I am a professed control freak. I micro manage myself because I like to minimize any unexpected surprises. I have a hard time letting go. I don’t particularly like change. And although these are not things I generally tell people when I first meet them, I don’t try to hide these more astringent personality traits either. Why hide what you can’t change, right? Well, as I’ve discovered over the past five months, sometimes change is necessary to move forward and sometimes letting go is exactly what you need.
When I worked in television I was responsible for writing scripts, casting, choosing wardrobe and props. If my scripts were children then I was a helicopter mom. Part of me loved being so involved and in control of the end product, but part of me wished for a time when all I would be responsible for was writing. I also longed for a time when I could write what I wanted to write and not what some man in an expensive suit told me I should be writing.
Having the opportunity to write The Block was a pleasure. I wrote it in fifteen days and fell in love with my characters in the process. I carried a stage in my head, acted out the scenes, the blocking, and the subtle gestures that made the characters real. It was truly one of the best days of my life when Alyssa called me and said that Point of You wanted to produce it. I was finally doing something that mattered with my writing and it felt amazing. However, as I started re-editing and re-working scenes, it dawned on me that I would have to give this up. In accepting Point of You’s generous offer to produce my play, I would have to give up my control and let them breathe life into my writing in their own way.
At first I silently freaked out and then not so silently (sorry, boyfriend!). But at the same time, I knew that I did not want to be one of those writers that was constantly underfoot, making suggestions or stepping on the director’s toes. I did not want to be one of those writers who are off-putting or impossible to work with. I wanted to be as generous and accommodating as Point of You had been with me. So I took a few deep breaths and told myself that if letting go meant furthering something that I love and a piece of work that is important to me, then that was a sacrifice I was willing to make.
In the end, I had nothing to worry about. Not only did the director Jeff Love nurture my play as if it were his own, the actors took on my characters in ways that I had not even imagined. It was more than I had envisioned in my head on that tiny stage I had created for myself. I was touched by the actors’ attention to detail, their thorough creation of background stories and their understanding of the meaning behind the writing. I was touched by their sincerity and their passion for their craft. But most of all I was surprised by how much I learned about myself through this process.
Life is not meant to be controlled and theatre is definitely not something that can or should be. A line skipped, a door locked, a cue missed (all things that make the experience unique to each night and each audience) is what makes going to the theatre so exciting. I’m not saying I’m totally cured of my control-freak ways, but thanks to Point of You, their amazing cast and this experience (which was all at once humbling, reaffirming, comical and joyous) I am much closer to the carefree, go-with-the-flow, flowers-in-her-hair kind of girl I want to be. Thank you!
