Hi folks
Seeing all your creativity come flooding into the inbox is very gratifying. It’s why we do the challenge, to encourage the practice of playwriting, however you choose to exercise it.
In one of my past lives, I hosted a local theater arts discussion show on cable access, and during one of the interviews, the guest said that he was reminded of an artist (he couldn’t remember the name), but during a time of unrest and uncertainty, this writer said, “In the future, people won’t ask about what the politicians did or didn’t do about a bad situation. They will ask why the artists were silent.”
So thank you all, for continuing to write. And not being silent.
Initial numbers from the Challenge 9 submissions turned in yesterday:
78 playwrights, turning in material totaling 245 pages
(Another two full-length plays)
Let’s get you that writing prompt…
*****************************
Challenge #12 - The Weight
Write Wednesday, November 12th - or earlier if you like
Due: Thursday, November 13th, 12pm noon Central Time
(1pm Eastern Time, 11am Mountain Time, 10am Western Time for the US Time Zones)
So, my trainer friend Tim who I meet with twice a week is always devising new and intriguing ways to test my limits. He loves running (and I don’t hate it) so he’s got multiple routes around his suburban Eagan neighborhood that involve the nearby woods and a LOT of hills. Having inducted me into all these routes now, he’s added the fun of a weight vest to the morning runs.
The weight vest is kind of funny in that it repurposes the round metal weights that are used with the barbells on the weight rack. There’s basically a large heavy plastic bolt in the center of both the front and the back of the weight vest that gets draped over my head and the metal plates are slipped onto the bolt and then a large plastic nut is screwed on top to hold the metal plate in place. So I look a bit like a dull gray version of C-3PO from Star Wars, without the gold-plating to shine things up.
We started with 5 pound plates front and back, or 10 pounds total, then he was putting on 10 pound plates, so 20 pounds total, and just this morning we graduated to 15 pounds each side, front and back, or 30 pounds total. There are velcro straps on either side to secure the vest so it doesn’t flap up and down. Though it is possible to over-tighten those straps and make it a bit harder to breathe than is useful going up hills. More of an art than a science getting that right. We learn as we go.
Tim says the vest can hold up to 125 pounds total, but at that point he might as well strap on his two large dogs Charlie and Peppa (one in front, one in back) or perhaps his toddler Victoria strapped on my front and his tween son Wyatt on my back.
It’s a little mean, of course, because the whole point of working out is so you can lose that extra ten, twenty or thirty pounds so you don’t have to carry it around with you when you’re running. And then Tim just adds it back on anyway.
The neighborhood enclaves near his home are a bit odd with their street naming. There is one cluster of homes that has street names that are all some variation of Mallard:
Mallard Drive
Mallard Street
Mallard Avenue
Mallard Trail
Mallard Circle
Mallard Place
Which must make giving directions really difficult.
There is one visible duck, a wooden decoy sitting on the front porch of the home on the corner, as if it’s standing watch. If anyone disrespects the many mallard-named streets, the wooden duck shall spring to life and call upon its compatriots to descend and chase out the offending humans (yes, my mind wanders when I run)
There’s another set of streets that are all variation on Woodgate:
Woodgate Cove
Woodgate Plaza
Woodgate Curve
Woodgate Hill
Do any of the homes have any kind of wooden gate on the property? No.
If we have the misfortune of having our return time out in just the right way with the school bus pickup schedule, right as we’re rounding the final turn to descend a short hill back down to Tim’s house, some middle schoolers will be there on the corner and one of them, inexplicably, begins to sing the chorus to the song “Eye of the Tiger” from the film Rocky III (from 1982?!, so a good 25 years or so before this kid was even born - I guess it must be popular on Tik Tok) (my god, the hairstyles on the band)
Survivor music video
Rocky III version
“It’s the eye of the tiger
It’s the thrill of the fight
Rising up to the challenge of our rivals
And the last known survivor
Stalks his prey in the night
And he’s watching us all with the EYE - of the tiger!”
And of course, because I’m a playwright, everything is a metaphor, and wow, do I get a lot of wandering brain time as I’m forcing my body up and down hills, with or without weight (when it’s without weight, we’re focusing more on speed or distance, depending on the day). I recall the first day Tim strapped on the weight with 10 pounds, I wasn’t doing so bad. It wasn’t really slowing me down (20 and 30 pounds, definitely slowing me down). But ten pounds, it was there, I got used to it, I carried on pretty much as usual.
Grief came to mind.
The weight is like grief for me. And I’ve been regressing as the weeks go on and the weight gets progressively heavier. It was nice to start with the realization at 10 pounds because it was a helpful reminder.
30 pounds is getting to be a lot like grief when it’s fresh. The person is just barely gone. Your identity feels like it’s shifting radically under your feet on a daily basis. The absence of them is palpable. And you have to go on, but you don’t really feel like you can. The weight is genuinely getting in the way of you functioning like a human being around other human beings. You can’t see the weight they’re carrying of course. They probably are. But everyone else feels like they’re just fine. And you are not. You are a mess. Nothing will be OK ever again. And how are you supposed to operate when your brain is completely fried, and sleep is challenging, and you can’t stop crying at completely inappropriate times for the most random and inexplicable of reasons.
20 pounds is after you’ve had some therapy. And the sorting out of the leftover bills and paperwork and mail and house clearing and house sale is pretty much done. It’s not great but it’s also not completely unmanageable. You can see yourself getting to the other side of whatever it is. Feels more like a tunnel than drowning and some days you can see some light down there at the end. Some days.
10 pounds is, well, now really. You’re never fully going to be the person you were before. That person’s gone, just like the person you’re grieving is gone. But you can get through the days without falling apart. You can listen to music again and not be overwhelmed. You can still feel the weight, you know it’s there. But it’s just something you carry. It’s part of who you are now. And you’ve got some extra capacity. So if you see someone else just taking on the weight for the first time, you can help. You can tell them you were carrying all that weight once, too. You tell them to keep at it, it gets lighter, over time. And if they need to vent, they have your phone number.
Trucking over the hills with this silly weight vest on, I’m also reminded of that old song by The Band, from back in 1968, which rotated through the radio station my mom always used to listen to, called “The Weight.” It’s got that chorus:
“Take a load off, Fanny
Take a load for free
Take a load off, Fanny
And (And, and)
You put the load right on me (You put the load right on me)”
(Full lyrics for the song at the end of the post. It’s an odd duck, or mallard, of a song.)
Personally I’m partial to the Aretha Franklin cover of the song a couple of years later, just because it’s a bit livelier. Here’s a link to that.
But if you’re partial to the sleepier original, which has its charms, here’s a link to that.
So weight, ducks, grief, confusingly names streets, songs that are journeys, if any or all of that sparks a little something in you, grab an idea out of the air and start writing. Take any or all of those if they inspire you, and spin a scene or two out of them.
That’s what I do when I’m running, anyway.
Or if those don’t do it for you, but they make you think of something else you might like to write about instead, go with that.
Just write something.
****************************
If you’re not interested in this prompt, you can
try 2021’s challenge #12: Random Phrase Generator part 2
Or try 2022’s challenge #12: Omens
Or try 2023’s Challenge #12: Snapshots 2 (from Threshold Theater’s co-founder and Managing Director David Schlosser)
Or try 2024’s challenge #12: The Neon Sign, The Keys, The Door (from Threshold Theater’s co-founder and Managing Director David Schlosser)
Or, you know, just ignore the prompts altogether and write whatever you want - as long as you’re writing and turning it in by the deadline, that’s all that matters for the challenge :)
**************************
How to submit your work for Challenge #12
We’re streamlining the process this year with a Google form,
https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdy-wyjz-IITaNsOkXM1zVQu_yrt_o7E4Vp2eQnr-8VNnu49w/viewform?usp=header
but you still have multiple options for how you submit your playwriting output for the day.
After you enter the required fields of
email,
name,
challenge number (for today, that’d be 12 :)
and page count,
you can submit your writing in one of four ways:
Save your script as a PDF or Word Doc and upload that document to the Google form.
OR
Post
your script online (on your personal website, as a blog post, or as a
Google doc) and put a link to that online script in the Google form.
OR
Copy/paste your work from another source directly into the Google form
OR
Type directly into the Google form.
(Whichever option you choose, you can leave the other ones blank.)
Write Wednesday, November 12th - or earlier if you like
Again, this is: Due: Thursday, November 13th, 12pm noon Central Time
(1pm Eastern Time, 11am Mountain Time, 10am Western Time for the US Time Zones)
*******************************
And because we call can get in our own way so easily, here’s some words of reassurance on the basics of this month:
Friendly Reminders - Answers To Common Questions:
(Follow the links to read me expounding on these items :)
Don’t Stress About Writing A Full Play
Don’t Stress About Format
Don’t Stress About Sticking To The Writing Prompt
No. Really. I Mean It. Don’t Stress About Sticking To The Writing Prompt
Don’t Stress About Finishing An Idea (You Can Add Later)
Don’t Stress About “Succeeding” or “Failing”
Don’t Stress About What You’re Turning In Each Day
Don’t Stress about November 27th (however you recognize the holiday weekend) - 2025 edition
**************************
And, just to reassure you, no, we are not going to be sticklers about you following these directions down to the minutest detail - the important thing is that you write, and then that you share it with us, so we can keep track of who’s writing every day.
Also, no, there is no penalty for finishing and submitting early - but it also isn’t a race, so give yourself all the time up til 12 noon Central Time on Thursday to write if you need it. When you’re done, you’re done.
Again, remember, it doesn’t need to be great, it doesn’t even need to be responding to this prompt (the prompt is just there so you’re not staring at a blank screen to start with no idea what to write about :)
Doesn't even need to be complete - you could have the beginning or the middle or the end of an idea, maybe two out of three but not all, that's still fine. This is all about getting things started, you can write more later.
You have 18 more days to build on whatever you come up with today, if you want.
Just get anything on the page, even if won't make sense to anyone else, as long as it makes sense to you.
It just needs to be something.
***********************
And that something can be:
Lights up.
There’s a hill.
There’s a runner, weighed down by something.
Another runner comes along, pats them on the shoulder, encourages them to keep going.
They run off up the hill together and get to the other side.
Where there’s another hill, of course.
But they’re on their way at least.
Lights down.
The End
That’s always your escape hatch, every day.
That’s your base line.
Build on it.
Have fun.
Don’t stress.
Make an impulsive decision and run with it.
Breathe.
You’ve got the day.
Just write.
And take good care of yourselves, and each other.
Matthew A. Everett
Literary Director
Threshold Theater
(he/him/his)
No comments:
Post a Comment