I'm calling it: I am never going to write a series of epic posts about Comic-Con. I am simply far too busy. The
abridged version covers most of what happened, but for more Comic-Con goodness, including all the crazy costumes, you will have to check out my
Facebook albums.
And, you know, while you're there, you should really check out my
Dinosaur
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You should read plays to see how the best playwrights write to give both direction and room for inspiration. Ideally, you will then see a production, or at least a movie of it. I recommend the following:
August Wilson: Joe Turner's Come and Gone; The Piano Lesson.
David Mamet: The Duck Variations; A Life in the Theatre; American Buffalo.
Caryl Churchill (my vote for the best living playwright, sadly underappreciated in America): Mad Forest; Fen; Cloud Nine.
Craig Lucas: Reckless; Prelude to a Kiss. (When I was a playwright, people used to say my work reminded them of his. Reckless especially.)
Robert Schenkkan: The Kentucky Cycle. (If you ever get a chance to see a production of this, seriously, go. It's amazing onstage, and hard to screw up, even by an amateur or college company.)
Tony Kushner: Angels in America.
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Ha ha ha! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
It sounds, though, as if you're no longer letting their expectations get under your skin to the extent where you feel obliged to do things you don't want to do, and be someone you aren't. Is that right?
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I don't know. That phone call ruined my entire fucking goddamn day, and I thought I was better than that.
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I don't think anyone ever gets so utterly mature and together that a phone call from their controlling, dysfunctional parents can never ruin their day.
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total respect for my elders.
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