So I'm sitting on my porch in Provincetown, really enjoying the 4th of July weekend; great weather, good friends, fantastic fuckin' bar-b-q (I made it, so I can brag) and relaxing before I head to the Kennedy Center for a two week playwriting intensive where I mentor/teach/guide 40 playwrights for all across the country; they're all ages, a wide range of experience, a wide range of interests. They're paying a lot of money to be there, so I try to really deliver the goods while we're together. It's all to say I need to rest up before I get out there because they keep me running pretty much 24/7. And I can usually do that in Provincetown.
But this weekend I have a problem: a ride-by playwright who won't shut up.
Every time the guy rides his bicycle up or down the street, he's got yet ANOTHER question to ask. How do I get an agent? Where can I send my play? How do you know when your play is finished? Are rewrites as hard as everyone thinks? What's the best theatre in the country for new plays? And on and on and on....
Now, usually I don't mind giving it out; I like helping writers. But this guy's got no sense of boundary or propriety. He never asks, "you busy?" "Can I ask you a question?" Not even a "How are you?" His need is all I get; his bicycle, his mouth, his need -- and more mouth than anything else. And of course I enable him because I don't shut him down. But I just can't -- I can't shut him down or out. He's got a dream, and I've been on the other end of someone tromping on my dreams. But I'll tell you this: if he's not careful, his manners and his mouth could get in the way of anything he wants -- particularly from theatre people.
To be clear: it's not that The Drive-By, Peddle-By, Mouth-By Playwright shouldn't ask his questions. He should. But he desperately needs an awareness of what's in play beyond his own need. And if this a business built on relationships, he needs to learn now that two people in a balanced EXCHANGE OF IDEAS forms a relationship.
