Because I'm A Writer

Here's a phrase I hear a lot: "...which is funny, because you're a writer!"

"...which is funny, because you're a writer," as David Bowie often says to me.

Now, I guess I should be happy that David Bowie (and other people as well) sees me as a writer.  It's a slightly new experience for me to have people acknowledge I have talents/not see me as anything but a slightly needy five year old. But I guess I don't really fit into their expectations of what a writer should be, because the people I am forced to converse with to look like a decent human being are constantly saying things like, "You aren't very observant, which is funny, because your a writer!" or "you aren't very good at understanding people, which is funny, because you're a writer!" or "You aren't very good at focusing/ staying in the moment, which is funny, because you're a writer!"

"You're not a very good writer, which is funny, because you're a writer!"

Now, these are all valid points. I have the observational skills of a brick, and as a brick, I don't have much understanding of how these strange creatures that put me and my brethren on top of each other and build houses out of us work. And bricks don't have very good attention spans, which you may not know if you aren't a brick, and if you are, congratulations on stealing a computer from the humans. Our day to rule shall one day be upon us.

At the very least, it would explain why "Another Brick In the Wall" comes on every fucking time I turn on the radio.

 And I know that the typical view of writers are that they are mildly eccentric and occasionally forget to eat, yet acutely aware of the finer details and life and the thoughts of others, absorbing information for use in their future manuscript.  This is the viewpoint television has given us, and television is never ever wrong ever and should always be trusted. Actually, most writers I know are far, far, far, far more observant than I am, and seem to understand other people better, and while they may not be the dietary challenged Sherlock Holmes some people seen to think we all are, they pretty much fall in line (at least partly) with people's expectations.
And then there's me. I am none of this. And how strange it is! How amusing, that I am not a part of this strange writer world, not one of those strange, otherworldly people, and yet, I PUT WORDS DOWN ON PAPER AND THEY FORM SCRIPTS! What witchcraft is this?
First of all, why do you think this is a good thing to say to me? What part of your brain is thinking, "People find it absolutely hilarious when I point out their shortcomings!" You don't here me going, "You aren't very likable, which is funny, because you're trying to talk to me!"

I don't say that to Bowie, obviously. (Partly because he never tries to talk to me.)

I know these people are probably just- no, honestly, I haven't the slightest idea what they're trying to do, probably because I'm not good at understanding people. But I'm sure they mean well. But I can't help but shake the feeling that they're pointing out my short comings as a writer, or expressing disbelief that I could even be a writer, without the necessary observational skills. As if after they say it, they think I might go, "Well, you caught me! Of course I'm not a writer! I just flail aimlessly on the keyboard, and spellcheck turns it all into words!"

(which I'd need to do if I were a brick.)

 But you know what, people? I don't do that. Well, sometimes I do, but flailing aimlessly is an important part of the writing process. But, I do write. I have written stories, plays, monologues, and mini-musicals. And some people say they're quite good. Because my ability to notice if the walls have been painted a color doesn't affect my ability to hold a pen (or more likely, type on a computer), and my inability to not-space out during Math class doesn't stop me from being able to formulate sentences.
So, I'm sorry I don't fit into your view of what a writer should be.
But I wrote this and you didn't, so I don't really see why I should care.
Fuck you too!

In defense of the showtune

Some may think that Broadway is reserved for gooey showgirls in flashy gowns, and dare I say it..frivolous musicals!
But au contraire. 
Broadway can be home to some of the most meaningful messages (that just so happen to be set to music)
Here's a list of some of the shows I think carry a heavier story.

1. RENT

Summary: Rent tells the story of a group of impoverished young artists and musicians struggling to survive and create in New York in the thriving days of Bohemian Alphabet City, under the shadow of HIV/AIDS.

The Lyrics: "How can you connect in an age where strangers, landlords, lovers, your own blood cells betray?"-Rent 
"There's only us. There's only this. Forget regret, or life is yours to miss. No other road. No other way. No day but today."-Life Support

The Message: Most of the musicals I'm going to talk about with you here are going to have pretty straightforward meanings, that being said, the message of Rent is exactly what it sounds like. Coping with the difficulties of real life whether it be external or internal. Most characters, along with struggling in relationships, sexual identity, and finances, are also diagnosed with AIDS. A heavy-hitting virus both in Rent's time-setting and the present. The message (that applies to those not diagnosed with a fatal disease) is that life may be full of shit, but its what you make of it that counts.

2. Ragtime

Summary: Ragtime tells the story of three groups in America- represented by Coalhouse Walker Jr., a Harlem musician; Mother, the matriarch of a white upper-class family in the New Rochelle, NY; and Tateh, a Latvian Jewish immigrant.

The Lyrics: "Give the people a day of peace. A day of pride. A day of justice we have been denied."-Till We Reach That Day
"With the promise of happiness, and the freedom he'll live to know; he'll travel with head held high, just as far as his heart can go" -Wheels of a Dream

The Message: This musical is full of joyous moments and sorrowful ones, but every song is still designed to hit home and get the message across on what the characters are experiencing. Can I reveal the message of this amazing musical without spoiling it? Well I'll try. This musical (set in the early 1900's) is all about the struggle of living in America as any class, and expresses the horror of racial segregation and discrimination. This probably doesn't sound like a musical that would be enjoyable, but for those who like to feel that chill down their spine when they hear a piece of true music.. you wont be sorry if you give it a listen.

3. Hair

Summary: Defined as an "American tribal love-rock musical"..At first glance, this show is about a bunch of hippies insisting on the legalization of pot and the outlaw of violence. But NO. It is much more than that...or at least an expansion of that with deeper meaning (and sweet brass & bass)

The Lyrics: "We starve-look at one another; short of breath. Walking proudly in our winter coats, wearing smells from laboratories; facing a dying nation of moving paper fantasy. Listening for the new told lies with supreme visions of lonely tunes."- Flesh Failures(Let the Sunshine In)

The Message: This show never fails to make my heart feel like lead. Whether it be on the screen or on the stage, Hair has a heavy message to provide- War is an unbelievable mistake man has made. Unfortunately, this concept can be applied to every date from the 60's (when this was written) to now. And, I can guarantee that while walking out of the theater after a production of Hair, you will want to punch war straight in the face!
(whilst shouting rock opera, perhaps?)

I highly recommend each one of these musicals. Thanks for reading. (Part 2 to come)
*lyrics provided by allmusicals.com*

Ten Reasons You Should Only Date Drama Kids

The only thing missing from this list is my phone number. Winky-face and whatever it is the cool kids are doing these days.


1. We're all super hot.

(His first mistake was putting this picture where I could reach it.)

 No, seriously, think about it. When's the last time you went to a play, and saw someone unattractive on stage? Never, that's when. Drama kids were just born to be looked at. And you may be thinking, “Oh, yeah, sure, but what about the Techies and the people offstage? Surely they can't all be attractive.” Well, don't be stupid. The people offstage need  to be (and are, ow ow) attractive to keep the morale of the actors up. (And really, how can you not be sexy while lifting set-pieces and pulling heavy levers? Aw yeah, baby, raise that drop.)

2. Drama relationships last statistically longer than average High School relationships. Okay, that hasn't been scientifically proven, but it feels true. It last longer then those week-long relationships you see on Facebook, anyway, so there's that. We're better than your stupid Facebook friends.

 

3. We can memorize page long Shakespeare monologues. We can recite lines from Medea while hundreds of people are staring us down. We can probably remember your birthday. (Note- Don't expect this from Drama writers. We're writers, and therefore charmingly “out-of-it.”) (I say writers, I mean me, I'm just generalizing to make myself look better.)

  4. Don't like us? That's okay, we can just be someone else!

With the magic of acting, you could be dating Neil Patrick Harris, Audrey Hepburn, Robert Downy Jr., David Bowie, and if you want to date someone else, you're really just being greedy! Dating Drama kids is like having the Ditto Pokemon- you can be dating ANYONE. (Well, obviously, you aren't dating the Pokemon. Well, I hope not, you SICK FREAK.)

5. Even the most annoying Drama Kid is better than an annoying Average High Schooler. For example, that asshole Chad who keeps yelling in the middle of Bio about sex and drugs? He'd never be in a Theatre class. Let's face it, drama kids are just better then everyone else. 

6. All of us are really humble and not at all arrogant. 

 7.We'll give you piggy back rides.

(I reflexively hate these people, and the fact that I have no basis for my hate only makes me hate them more.)

How often do you get piggy back rides? Not enough, right? Well, if you date a Drama Kid, your piggy-backless days are OVER. I don't know why, but Black Boxes are fuming with piggy-back antics. It doesn't even attract weird looks or anything, it's just a thing that happens. And it will happen for you, because anyone who doesn't give their significant other piggy-back rides when requested is either lacking upper-body strength or is a communist. (So date someone strong.)

8.If you don't, we'll write an emotional monologue about our soul wrenching feelings for you. It'll happen, just saying. Meanwhile, if you do, we'll write a happy two character scene leading up to a song, about how happy and in love we are! Yay! (Until our relationship starts having problems, in which case we're back in emotional land, but GOD CAN'T YOU JUST BE HAPPY IN THE MOMENT.)

9.All of us are at least slightly crazy. Fun crazy, that is. Not “Oh god he's put the hamster in the microwave again” crazy, just “Is he riding around on his friend's shoulders while singing 'I Can Show You The World?'” crazy. So, you know, they'll keep things interesting. Who wants to be with a normal person, anyway? They're boring as hell. I heard they talk things like 'taxes' and 'politics.' Wild, man.

 10.Drama kids are like Heroin.

I was going to have a funny picture of a junkie here, but it turns out that's not funny at all so here's a kitten instead.

You try them once, and suddenly, nothing else is good enough, and every other high-school seems inferior, and you need more and more, and you think you can quit anytime but you can't and you try to get buy on some quick hard roadside monologues, but that doesn't even get you buzzed anymore and you end up with a tube in your arm attached to a kid singing show-tunes. Or something like that. Anyway, once you have drama kids, nothing else will do. (I think that's what I was trying to say. Hey, can you hook me up with Playbill, man?)

Why Julliard needs to get real.

"I can tell you there is no Musical Theater program at Juilliard. The administration considers it to be a lower form of art, not suitable for the school's main curriculum." 


That was written by a Juilliard graduate.

And I can't believe what I'm hearing.

My hearing is selective. Showtunes-only

Are those at Julliard refusing to see the more popular source of live musical entertainment? (excluding informal-type concerts)((ex: KISS, Aerosmith,...Nickleback)) Let me lay down a representation of what I believe a pie chart between the two would look like.

As shown in this playbill-colored pac...I mean pie chart.

Now of course, this is just what my vision looks like. And I think others could relate. Who here thinks that a  NY Philharmonic tour of the US would bank more than every on-Broadway showing plus tour of Newsies or Wicked? You see, I chose popular formal-style performers because I'm about to lay some fact on you.

Year	Gross*	Attendance (by millions)*	Playing Weeks**
Most recent year 2011	$1.081 billion	12.13	1,483
One year ago 2010	$1.037 billion	12.11	1,550
Two years ago 2009	$1.004 billion	11.88	1,440
Three years ago 2008	$986 million	12.85	1,653
10 years ago 2001	$644 million	11.39	1,464

Those are the statistics for Broadway sales as a whole.
Last year, the total approximate earnings was 1.081 billion dollars of money! *Arthur reference*

If Julliard thinks that that kind of money comes from a "lower form of art" than them... well they need to Man Up.

Here's their mission statement:
"The mission of The Juilliard School is to provide the highest caliber of artistic education for gifted musicians, dancers, and actors from around the world, so that they may achieve their fullest potential as artists, leaders, and global citizens."

To me, that sounds like they're prepping their students to be put straight into some of the best musicals that can be offered. Now, why wouldn't Julliard just acknowledge that fact and offer a musical theatre class to provide quality actors and musicians for a clearly growing art form? I still don't know. 

But hopefully they change their mind before I can reject their poor excuse for a musical/entertainment school.

Please.

And remember, Juilliard...

Its not just for gays anymore.

Auditions Are Like Sex.

 ... Your first time is probably going to suck.
Mine did.
My first audition, get your head out of the gutter.(The gutter in which I placed it.)

And do it quickly, Tim Curry's down there.

First of all, let me give you a bit of a background on me, partly because it will help in my narrative and partly because everyone else did it and I like conforming.
For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be three things in life: an author, an actor, and a pirate. I was a pretentious, annoying youth, and more than anything else, I wanted attention. Constantly. Writing was one way to get it- it wasn't normally something adults expected kids to do, so I did it constantly and shoved it in peoples faces. I liked doing it, I guess, but it was mostly so people would go, "Oh, look at that amazing girl, she wrote a short story, lets all shower her with praise!" I didn't start being passionate about writing until I discovered scriptwriting (which is a story for another day, which I'm probably never going to write about, so suck it.) Acting fell in the same vein: it was basically an excuse to have a bunch of people stare at you, and I loved it. I did some crappy elementary school plays (and felt smugly superior than everyone else because I knew my lines and they didn't), but mainly, I wanted to be in movies, so I could be famous.
Then middle school and early high school happened, and those years sucked for basically everyone so I don't need to elaborate, but it ended up strengthening my desire, because coming out of it, I wanted nothing more than to be loved by millions of people, and have people want to be around me. So I took theatre.
 I first auditioned for something during my Sophomore year of high school, and Christ, was I scared. I had no idea what to expect, all I had was the knowledge that soon, I would be judged, and the fate of my new-found theatre life depended on their judgements. And that wasn't the only thing freaking me out: My brother was already a big star, who had a leading role in the earlier musical, so it was absolutely great having that to live up to. Adding to it, I worshiped all of the people in the Theatre Company, and was mildly terrified of all of them. But with a bit of bravery and some friendly forcing from my brother, I went to the workshop to see what the show would be (doodle-doo, deedle-dee).

The play my school was doing was Julius Caesar.

Well, FUCK. That's welcoming! "Welcome to your first audition, here's some SHAKESPEARE," the teacher seemed to say, in the steely look in his eye and the way he towered over me. (Of course, almost everyone towers over me, since I'm about 5 foot 4 and everyone I know is freakishly tall. But he is the toweringest.) Basically, for the audition, we prepared one of the monologues from the packet we were given (they didn't have to be memorized, just prepared, so I made a punch of random annotations and notes on how to read it and then disregarded them the moment I actually read it), walked across the suddenly-gigantic Black Box to the table where the drama teacher and his associates were seated, and read the monologue you prepared.
Alone.
Except for three teachers, who sit there and watch you. Judging.

I guess I could have found a picture of an actual audition ,but fuck it. Unrelated: Have you seen the Star Wars documentary, when they're talking about casting the people, and the guy who played C3PO is being all weird and saying that the picture of C3PO "just called out to him?" I love that.

Of course, I know now that these three teachers are actually quite charming people, and I shouldn't be frightened of them unless I'm a troublemaker or a complete moron, which I'm arguably not. But at the time, these were three teachers that I didn't really know too well (and therefore assumed didn't like me because I was sort of stupid that way), who currently had complete control over how my life was going to unfold. I was fucking terrified, of them and auditioning.
My brilliant strategy, after making a few offhand jokes to pretend I'm not scared at all, of course not, who me, was to stare at a random point at the wall intensely (obviously not because I was scared, no, that would be silly, I just really like walls, walls are the best) and quickly mumble out the monologue, and then run away.
I didn't make call-backs, surprising no one.
 But on a surprising note, the next day during my drama class, the teacher approached me and asked me if he wanted his feedback on my audition (knowing full well I was way too much of a coward to ask him anything). He told me that I was very quiet, and they couldn't hear half of it- but he understood that I was terrified, and suspected that given the chance, I could do better. So I ended up in a chorus role (with one line!) due to my teachers believe that, despite my awful audition, I had potential.
My Drama teacher is awesome. Did I mention that? Go back and re-read this entire post with that knowledge, I'll wait.

Now, looking back and being able to see how truly horrible that audition was, I'm not sure why he felt the need to give me a chance. Maybe he was basing it off my classwork. Maybe he assumed that since my brother was fantastic, I might take after him at least a little. Maybe he has magical powers that let him see the future. Because I did keep auditioning. I got a few chorus roles in the mini-musicals later in the year, and the next year, I made it into the elite group for writers and got two featured roles in the mini-musicals. And I can confidently say, that without theatre, I wouldn't have survived high school. (I might speak too soon, though.)
So yeah, my first audition sucked, and I was terrified, and I felt a bit like shit when I didn't make callbacks, even though I didn't think I was going too anyway. (Hope is a bitch.) And maybe you feel that way too.
But think of sex. (That's my advice for a lot of things.) Yeah, the first time is probably going to suck, and you might be a little terrified, but you need to get it over with so that you can start slutting it up at local bars.

Get over this...

To get to this.*

 If you're scared, don't let that stop you from auditioning.
If your first audition sucked, don't let that stop you from auditioning again.
And if you have to read a Shakespeare monologue, it helps to cry under your bed in the fetal position. Don't worry, no one else understands it either, we're all just faking it.

*This is a lie. Neither relationships or auditioning will ever be like this. it will always be the first one. you just get used to it.

And suddenly, the fourth appeared.

I dislike introductions.

Or, at least, poorly executed ones.

I've often pondered available alternatives to the staleness of "Hi, I'm [some ineloquent moniker, like Chad... apologies to all named Chad, you unfortunate bastards], I like puppies and I have two kids!"
Not that Chad's life isn't potentially intriguing; I'm sure he'd be able to fascinate at parties with the best of them. But first impressions, though often fleeting in the duration of their occurrence, are of the utmost importance in many social situations (galas and benefits, business meetings, fated encounters at IKEA... is that just me? Oops), and our dear friend Chad would not be able to cut it in certain company.
So, dear reader, that begs the question: how shall I reveal myself to you?
...Clearly through the dissection of rudimentary social conventions. Moving on.

I, the songstress. I would dearly hope you can draw from that exactly what I do. Singing is my entire being. And not the simple (or simply ridiculous) fare that issues from the speakers of many of my generation (though that may be "music", it is anything but musical), but the classics, whether they be legitimate classical or poignant enough in lyric and delivery to earn the label "classic".

I hope you know who this is. This man is bloody brilliant. The fact of whether or not you are inclined to agree, you'll find, is one I'm not so inclined to care about.

 

...As much as I'd love to continue fangirling over Monsieur Simon, that is rather not the point. Anyway. You'll find that I differ from my cohorts in one respect: I did not choose theater when blazing my path through public education. This is not to say I lack an interest; in fact, I find theater and all its particulars endlessly fascinating (especially those of musicals; I'm a bit of a nutcase when it comes to musicals. Seriously. Don't even mess). But, being of the mind that I wanted my voice specifically to take me places in life, I selected choir.

...To be perfectly frank, it saved my life.

No, not in a way that would have involved me taking drastic action where my vitality was concerned. That situation's presence is not mandatory for a life to be saved. Choir gave me a person to be, a group of people to love and lead, and a perspective on my existence that I could not have gained anywhere else, and for that, I am indebted.

So I suppose that gives you some small taste of who I am, and if it doesn't, I'm playing the "I'm too fatigued to continue into further detail" card.

Yeah, fool. You just got told by Yoda. Pretty sure Obi-Wan shares his sentiments, too.  

I'm predicting a sharp increase in either my snarkiness or my hyperactivity in the next few posts, so stay tuned. It'll certainly be something entertaining.

This'll Do for an Intro

I haven't read any of my fellow blogger's posts because I'm kind of a bitch, I guess. Usually I have to be sleep-deprived for that to happen, but today just seems to be a special, glorious day.

I'm deprived of ideas so let me go read those posts and get back to you. Frankly I'm unsure of what's appropriate and what's inappropriate to post on the internet. (Let the joke just sink in...)

I'm not really sure how to find pictures I want on Wikimedia Commons yet so here's the picture of the day to break the tension.

Okay, apparently I just need to give some kind of blurb about who I am and how I got backstage.

Now the great question which every human being grapples with every day: Who am I?

I'm the fucking writer.

Writers are known for being notoriously confident. This man, for example, wrote a whole essay about why we should be as confident as him. Or something. I never read it.

I've been interested in writing my whole damn life. Ever since I was a young'un I wrote tedious works of prose to imitate the books I read and to wow my family.

For the record: writing doesn't grab the attention of your family. Running into a television stand and fracturing your skull does.

I never was any good with prose so I moved on to poetry. I was such a good fourth grade poet that they had me read the poem in front of the school. Which totally didn't get me beaten up. Not in Los Angeles. That would be silly.

Also in Los Angeles I got into improv. That was my first exposure to theatre, and it was awesome. You just went up onstage, said what you thought was funny, and people laughed. It was a major confidence boost, but like soccer and piano, I gave up my hobby when I inevitably moved to a new state.

That state was Kansas. And instead of just living there for a year like most places, I actually spent three or four years in a consistent environment. I played video games, I created lego adventures, and I got exposed to Red vs. Blue.

This was how I wanted to write. It was pure story and humor. I didn't have to go around explaining to people what was going on because in a video you could just see what was happening. So I started writing scripts. I never got around to filming them, but they were there and they were okay. I moved to Phoenix and spent a middle school experience losing my sense of value and doing some writing because that was funny and none of my friends were.

After two years of struggle I finally made it to high school and the glorious Black Box.

That's me on the right. In the Black Box. Being as awesome as the building.

I took theatre because I had the choice between that, band, and choir, and since I have a poor singing voice,  failed my lunchtime bandwork in elementary school for not practicing, and got laughs in fourth grade improv I chose theatre.

And I have never looked back.

Theatre's been the single most rewarding experience of my life: I gained confidence, an identity, and expanded my writing and have had it appreciated by my peers and adults.

Enjoy this moment, adults, it's the only time I'll imply that the general generation that considered this a legitimate threat superior to me in any way.

Yeah, that all wasn't instantaneous. It's taken me three years to get there, but for senior year I think I'm gonna enjoy that full force.

We'll see.

Backstage Bitch of the Day: The school year, and therefore theatre. doesn't start for another two months.

An introduction...to Me, and why you should be in theatre (but mostly Me)

This...

Hello, world!

is me.

Well..okay, its not. But this...

Why hello there

is also not me.

You get the point... This is who I want to be. Everybody has a dream. I just have the one that entails being cast as Kevin Price in an off-broadway tour of the Book of Mormon. It's not too much to ask. I would even be okay with playing Jesus in Godspell (chances are lower, since anyone with a voice can fit his range)

But anyways...

I also think that Bialystock from The Producers would be a great role that could give me a chance to show my over-acting side!

Enough with the role-playing fantasies *badum tss*

I'd like to first tell you how I became "The Hipster"

Really.. Id like to tell you, since I don't know either. Maybe it's because I have prescription hipster glasses. Maybe it's because of my daring and unique hairstyles. I do not know. Ask the bitch. (Next post: why our nicknames don't really relate to us).

A different and more related-to-this-blog post:

I came into the drama program at Insert school name here (Foiled again, molesters!) very unsure of myself. I did not want to sing in front of people and fabulous teachers that I did not know, and I definitely did not want to dry-read a script (especially since I had never touched a monologue in my life)((I didn't even know what a monologue was)), in fear of embarrassing myself, and being estranged from the Beautiful Black Box forever. I was afraid of writing down my name on the audition slip (and should I be okay with being put in the tech crowd if I don't get a role?)

Its quiet back here..*sigh*

Well Im glad I did.

If it wasn't for that tryout, I wouldn't have gotten the lead role that I did.. which probably would have led to not trying out for future productions, and my life would be going a different direction. I wouldn't be paying attention to the arts, and I would not be going into the Drama class next year in the hopes that I could establish myself as a serious contender and improve my acting ability.

Oh god, that sounded like an advertisement. No more with that.

tl;dr I don't regret that audition

But to finish off that cleverly placed ad, I recommend that everyone take their schools theatre audition slip, write down their name, and list whether they'd be okay with being cast into tech (If there wasn't tech, shows couldn't exist).

After that you'll be ready for your (very liberal ((and cool)) school's production of RENT.

Have fun. Now, make like Benny and leave.

but don't stop coming back

Introductory Post (Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Not Fuck Up Children's Theatre)

Hey, you person, Welcome to Bitching Backstage. In case the title didn't really explain itself (which it doesn't), here my associates and I plan on unloading our vaguely theatre related thoughts, for your viewing pleasure and for us to sit back and stroke our metaphorical beards on how clever we are.
There, I wrote a fairly civil introduction, we can all move on with our lives now.

Okay, so, recently, the church I attend has been attempting to start a little theatre company. And that's a worthy ambition, I can get behind that. That's not what I'm here to bitch about. (Well, it sort of is, but never mind.) (Never mind isn't one word? Huh, learn new things everyday.) It's a fun idea, And it's a good marketing strategy, too: Encourage the neighborhood people to come over and have their kids act with our kids (not my kids, obviously, the church's kids) and then ideally, the parents will say, "Watching my child skip around in a bunny costume gives me new-found faith in god!" and then stay forever. It's a good system, one that's proven twice as effective as miracles and parables, with half the chance of spontaneous crucifixions. Only half, though, because it does have the tiny little snag of it being children's theatre (here meaning theatre meant to be preformed by kids).
Now, maybe I'm just too sweet and cuddly, but I don't instantly hate children's theatre. I may be a bit distrusting of it, like a dog after his owners done the "pretend to throw the ball but don't" gag a few times, but that doesn't mean I won't still run after the ball once it looks like he throws it, but he didn't throw the ball so now I'm stuck here with my nose in the ground like a damn fool, panting and running and looking and I'm not sure if this is a metaphor anymore but I stand by it.
What was I talking about?
Right, Children's theatre. I don't instantly hate it, but I don't instantly love it either. I think Children's Theatre is a bit like Nicolas Cage.

I was just going to put a normal picture of him, but this picture exists, so here we are.

On one hand, he was in Adaption, which is the most amazing movie I've ever seen, and he did a great job in it, and if you say otherwise I have a bunch of sharp objects in my room so choose your words carefully. On the other hand, The Wicker Man. (I haven't actually seen The Wicker Man, but I suspect most people who make jokes about it haven't. Isn't the Internet great?) Similarly, children's theatre, and children acting in general, can sometimes make you want to pull out your small intestines through your nose and strangle yourself with them, but a good performance makes you feel a bit like you've just puked up a diamond. No, I take that back, that would hurt, I didn't think that through. I'm not sure what visual I was going for there, but it wasn't that one. It makes you feel surprised and excited, is what I meant. My theory with both Cage and actor kids (I guess they call them child actors, whatever) is that they're really about as good as the script they're given.
And that was the problem with the show the church put on. (Ah, forgot about that, didn't you? Yeah, so did I.) The Script was shit.
Okay, maybe I'm being mean. The script wasn't completely shit. I'm a writer myself, so being judgmental of others makes me feel better about my own lacking skills.There were other problems as well. For example, one of the children, who was playing some form of sailor (No, not that kind of sailor, this is children's theatre you Monster), delivered such monotone, lifeless ramblings of monologues that I actually grew rather attached to it: it made it look like the Sailor was drunk off his mind, and the more I watched, the more that seemed like an absolutely brilliant idea.

What can you do with a drunken sailor? Oh, HOURS of fun.

  But even the hilarity of drunken children couldn't make this play any more entertaining. It wasn't complete shit, no, which meant it didn't even have the decency to be enjoyably bad; it just stopped at bad. My mother, who was in the audience, described it as "hell," and at one point, checked her phone and was horrified to learn that she was only fifteen minutes in. The play was two hours long. She probably would have faked a heart attack to get out, had she not been under the slight obligation of being the pastor's wife.
Apparently, it was professionally written, which gives me rather high expectations for it. Apparently, they paid 50 dollars to use it, which is rather stupid because I just found it on Amazon for ten bucks. Apparently, I'm a bad person, because my first thought was, "I'm going to make so much money off of this."
Because I can, with all certainty, write a better children's play then the one they did. I won't, because the church probably wouldn't pay me, but I could. Because I know what they did wrong, And I know how to fix it.

Well, that's all for the first post of Bitching Backstage, thanks for reading. If you liked it, make sure to subscribe, and check back soon for another update!







No, I'm kidding, of course I'm going to tell you. Makes me feel all important and fuzzy.
To write good children's theatre, you have to respect and understand children. You can't talk down to them, but you can't give them overly complicated dialogue or long monologues, either. (But if you're putting a long monologue in a children's play, you're doing something wrong anyway.) If you go into it thinking, "I'm writing something for silly little kids," you're going to fail. It seems a lot of people who write scripts aimed at kids feel the need to prove they're smarter than the kids their talking too.
I respect kids. I don't like them, but I respect them. I'm basically a slightly taller five year old, anyway. And since I never stopped thinking of myself as a kid, I still mentally put myself at the same level as kids. The problem with the people writing the scripts is that they think they're on a higher level. And if you do that, it shows.
To make a successful kids show, pick a child's premise, Say, a porcupine in a bowler hat learns the meaning of sharing, and then write for your equals. The children's book-like story will lend itself to the needed simplicity and innocence, but writing it for your equals instead of people you look down will keep it good. Assuming you can write.
I can write. (Don't let the sprawling, untidy mess of a post that this is fool you.) I could write an at-least-decent kids play.
I'm not going to, though.
Fuck you, I'm no charity.
What do you think this is, a church?