Succubus Goes Before the Fall

I can not tell you the shear, unadulterated, intense joy that is hearing your words spoken by intelligent, joyful actors. It is overwhelming, exhilarating, and delicious. I sat behind a green curtain in the dark in the lobby of the New Langton theatre listening to my silly silly play, and I felt insanely and stupidly in love with my own words. I admit it. I felt unadulterated joy in my own accomplishment. In the dark, by myself where no one knew, I congratulated myself every time the audience laughed or giggled or sighed or sat stone silent listening. Is it a perfect play? No. Is it even a good play? I don't know. But I had a good time. I was proud of the actors who made these silly characters come to life. I was delighted at the fight scenes and the choreography and the costumes and the lights. It was honestly like I'd never been to a theatre in my life and I was introduced to some new magic every few minutes. I don't have time to be humble here, I'm proud of myself and this thing that came out of me. Maybe in a few weeks I'll think logically about the show and the reception and what I heard and saw...but this high feels so good. So ridiculously fabulous. I am walking in the clouds. I am sailing through calm waters. I am floating on air.

It's no wonder so many successful playwrights are assholes...You can't feel this self congratulatory and not be a little bit of a jerk. It is an incredibly vain act to have your own thoughts played back to you again and again and again.

And now I can say I am a produced playwright. Pride and Succubus Summer 2008 produced by Thunderbird Theatre Company, San Francisco