On Sunday night, me, Carly, and four local actors gathered to do a read-thru of Jimmy Gorski is Dead, our March show, which I wrote. Eep!
Ok, so it wasn't the official beginning. The actors who read were friends who graciously volunteered their time and talents (and were rewarded with drinks, because Carly is nice like that). Erin will be performing one of the roles in the show, but unfortunately couldn't fly in from Cincinnati for just one night, and the rest of the roles won't be cast until early January. The point of this read-thru was for me to hear the latest draft out loud, and get feedback so I can do any necessary revising to the script before we officially begin rehearsals in February.
Now, I don't have children, but I imagine that hearing your play read out loud for the first time is sort of like sending your kid to school on the first day of kindergarten. You spend so much time nurturing this little creation. You forgo sleep, food, showering, a social life for it. No matter how frustrating it gets, no matter how much it kicks and screams and pees in your face, you ultimately love the crap out of it, and want everyone to love the crap out of it too. So you print it out and clip it together all nice, hand it off to people you trust, and hope they don't beat the ever-loving shit out of it on the playground.
Luckily, that did not happen Sunday night. The readig went really well, and the feedback I got was really valuable, and will ultimately make the play better. There will be rewrites (there are always rewrites), but that's why we do this. Hearing other people's insights and questions made me think of things I hadn't thought of before, or see things from a new perspective. And while taking that feedback and incorporating it into the script can be challenging (I guess that's the equivalent of a teacher telling a parent that their kid isn't perfect. "What do you mean? Little Tommy's an ANGEL!") I know that ultimately it will make for a much stronger play, which is what it's all about.
Npw, back to my quill and inkwell in my garrett with my flickering candle!
-Kristen M. Scatton