well, it was bound to happen

I don't think I've talked much about feeling stuck on here. I've tried to keep this blog upbeat and positive, but sometimes it's unavoidable to deal with the opposites.

You must know that I do not love and that I love you,
because everything alive has its two sides;
word is one wing of the silence,
fire has its cold half

Pablo Neruda
XLIV
100 Hundred Love Sonnets

So yeah. I've been sending out packages left and right and I've gotten about seven rejection letters this week alone. Several of them have been extremely personal--stressing that it wasn't the play, it just didn't fit with them, and that I should submit again. Those are nice. Heck, any kind of response I get back is nice, but those are the ones that keep me going.

So when you're wondering if you got into graduate school (that was the big secret project--Hollins this coming summer), and you're getting reject letters left and right and you're struggling with several plays, one of which has you researching dead and missing soldiers, you start to question your purpose in life.

But, even thought I am feeling down about writing in general at the moment, I knew I will make it through. I have a thousand times before, and I will this time. I'll just get back to writing and plow through and I will eventually see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Even when I think things are the worst, I still wouldn't give this up for anyone or anything (although there was times in my past where I tried to). It's sustained me and kept me going. All I need to do is give my writing the same consideration.

New Year, New Look, New Play, Same Issues

I know it's nearly the end of February, but I wanted to start fresh now.

I think I've written about this play on here before, but I've started doing more research on 'Some Gave All'.

Before I get into that, I have to say--I don't understand how the plays I end up writing come to me. I was watching 'The Sixth Sense' the other day when I was cleaning up the apartment and I realized a parallel between Cole and me. Cole doesn't understand why the dead people are coming to him, and, with Malcolm's help, he finds out that they need his help. Similarly, I don't understand why the plays come to me and I don't have a Malcolm to let me know. Funny enough, there are 'dead' people who appear to me in a way--'Some Gave All' and 'Squall Lines' both have dead people in them who come back to life in some way. Part of me thinks that maybe these people have something they need to say, but then I remember that they are not real--they are characters--but what if they aren't? Yeah, these are things I think about when trying to figure out why I get the ideas I get. I try to just roll with them most of the time, but sometimes, something will come up and make me start wondering.

Anyway, back to 'Some Gave All'. I can't remember how this play came together exactly--which is strange because usually I can remember exactly how it all came together. I recall being at work and talking to Sheree about how I wanted to write a play about the current conflict in Iraq and how I wanted it to be anti-war. And then this play fell out and I have no idea how it links back to that original idea--of course, I haven't finished the play yet--I have a scant few scenes I have written as part of my personal '365 plays' project and that's it.

But now I'm learning more about POWs in the first Gulf War conflict and about Desert Storm and Desert Shield and about Iraqi and Middle Eastern fairy tales and Biblical Stories (Old Testament--like Abraham and Isaac--and about the current conflicts, and family and love and marriage, and a dead Iraqi girl who is a guide for a son looking for his father--and it's nuts. And sad. And beautiful. And I can't wait to see what falls out of it. I'm just going to let the idea guide me and I'll figure it out from there.