EXTRA CRITICUM

'Steps' of Rejection

I recently wrote a blog post pointing out the obvious: that any writer who has sold 450 million books has a clear marketing advantage over an unknown scribbler. I was comparing J.K. Rowling and an unknown author, Robert Galbraith, after those two writers were outed as being the one and the same (though somewhat transgendered perhaps).

Besides giving us the year’s best book publishing controversy, the incident provides a nifty case study on the power of brands, even if the brand happens to be an artist.

The Campaign Trail

"Let me just say, I don't think you're pandering enough."

I looked up to see a fellow actor half-smiling at me, mouth screwed to one side, eyebrow cocked. He had a half dozen scripts in his hand. I had one.

We were both volunteers for the Young Storytellers Foundation's Big Night performance of short scripts written by 4th and 5th graders at a local LA grade school. After weeks of mentoring, pint-sized writers got to see their work acted out by professional adult actors in a public performance in their school auditorium, in front of an audience of their parents and classmates.

Rejection? Of COURSE it's personal!

I’m very busy figuring out ways to market and publicize Best Lesbian Erotica 2011, of which I’m the series editor. The part I like best about being editor is sending word to the people whose stories have been chosen that they are in the book…particularly if I know the person who wrote the story.

What’s not as much fun, but is also necessary, is to notify the people who didn’t get in this year. I don’t like doing it, and I don’t like getting those notes myself (particularly if I know the person sending it).

"The Way In": In Praise of Muppets.

How did I get here?  What was my “Way In” to theater and TV?  Simple: the puppets made me do it.

No, don’t run away.  I’m serious.  The reason I’m involved with theater or TV in the first place is because of… puppets. 

See, at an early age, my mom plunked me down in front of the TV and I watched things like Bugs Bunny, and Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, Underdog, Rocky and Bullwinkle and The Flintstones (also Nixon’s resignation – but that’s another story).  I loved TV, and I loved all those shows.  But back then my favorite show, my very favorite show of all… was Sesame Street. 

The Way In: David Licata

What you have to know is this: I was raised in a cave. By wolves.

Mind you, they were loving wolves and they made sure I lacked none of the "necessities." I had shelter and clothing and delicious food and more toys than anyone else I knew. But in my home music was not played, books were not read, and decorative objects you'd be hard pressed to call "art" hung on walls. To be fair, my parents did take me to at least two big Broadway events--The Magic Show with Doug Henning and Dracula with Frank Langella--but seeing these didn't set me on fire.

Then, when I was twelve, we moved to a suburban town and it seemed all of my new friends' parents played music in their homes and had books on their shelves that they actually read and there were fine, unique, and often bizarre drawings and paintings and photographs hanging on walls.This was a new world to me.

The Way In: Kathleen Warnock

I heard voices. Not the saints, like Joan of Arc, but pretty damn close: Geraldine Page, Elizabeth Ashley, Amanda Plummer.

This was in my first post-college career, when I was working happily as a sportswriter on a newspaper in the Deep South. I always wanted to work in newspapers, and one of my favorite plays is The Front Page.

I got to see a production of it (with Terry O’Quinn in the lead) at Center Stage in Baltimore, back in the days when a college student could pay $3 and sit on the steps of the auditorium (I guess they didn’t have fire codes in those days!) Others in the cast included James Rebhorn, Patricia Kalember, and the playwright John Pielmeier as escaped convict Earl Williams. Another Center Stage production that blew me away was their Cyrano de Bergerac, with F. Murray Abraham (well before Amadeus) playing the title role, brilliantly. And with a student rush ticket, I could see touring shows at the Morris Mechanic Theatre, where I answered an ad when the company was looking for a taxi horn for the pre-Broadway run of A Day in Hollywood/A Night in the Ukraine. They comped me to the show, and after, I went backstage and haggled with Alexander Cohen as he tested the horn, and finally decided to buy it (and give me more tickets to the show). I believe it was the understudy horn, though I like to think Priscilla Lopez used it in her Tony-winning performance.

The Way In: Lisa Barnes

The fun revival of Hair on Broadway reminds me daily of the moment I drank the Kool-Aid. 1972 - Los Angeles, the mecca of divorce, drugs and too much sun highlighting my grand teen angst. I snuck into The Aquarius Theatre in Los Angeles with three other under-agers and found my purpose in life. They got my despair and gave me hope - and I knew I had to do for others what that experience did for me.
 
I sat on the steps of the theatre afterwards, sobbing. Deeply shy at the time, I found the courage to run up to the cast members as they left the theatre, hugging and thanking them all. Then the courage to get in front of up to 2,000 strangers and emote in hopes that someone out there might feel "gotten".
 
[Picture above: from a production of Well at Vermont Stage with member of the original Broadway cast of Hair, Dale Soules.]

A New Series: "The Way In"

Coming soon to EXTRA CRITICUM will be a new series of posts called The Way In in which artists describe how/why/when they first knew they wanted to devote themselves to a life in the arts.

Regular E.C. authors and readers alike are invited to contribute to this ongoing series. Readers with an "Ah ha!" moment to share are encouraged to type it up in an email and send it along with a recent pic of yourself at work to Rolando Teco. The Way In mini-memoires will be posted in the order they are received.