Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free* monologue a day- -and still going!
first year - Feb. 13, 2014 - Feb. 12, 2015 second year - Feb. 13, 2015 - Feb. 12, 2016 third year - Feb. 13, 2016 - today!
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I've continued with a monologue a day until the spirit moves me to stop - if you have any ideas for a monologue you want me to write, please let me know at tigerteam1@gmail.com.
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Monologue Mania Day # 1272 Return of the Scripts by Janet S. Tiger (c) Aug. 8, 2017
Return of the Scripts (c)
Return of the Scripts (c)
by Janet S. Tiger (c) 2017 all rights reserved
tigerteam1@gmail.com
(The writer comes out holding a bag of.....you guessed it...scripts)
In my lifetime, I have had many scripts returned.
This is because I am old enough to remember when scripts were hard copy - paper - and they were delivered by mail or by hand to the directors and theaters and actors.
Paper that started to get a little worn after awhile, when it was returned over and over, resent out to save copying costs. So a new title page and last page are attached- hoping the new readers will not identify the age of the script from the worn edges. Like make-up, like a disguise. To hope the scripts will be read and maybe, maybe, asked to the party Asked to be produced....or at least, a second read by another person in the organization.
How many scripts came back? Well, I sent out hundreds and most did not win, most were not produced. Okay, a lot were, but the percentage was small. Most came back, and you get used to it. It is never a happy day to see an envelope in the mail. At least not in the past. Now everything is electronic. The rejections on email. So the hurt is instant, but not as physical.
But these scripts returning was the most difficult of all the scripts I have ever gotten back. Because they are from a friend. Many years of scripts. A person who produced my work, liked my work, enjoyed talking about my work.
Now she can barely remember that she has a granddaughter who is my own daughter's age. Do I have a granddaughter she asks me? Yes, I say, her name is Emily...... Oh, I remember now, and there is a light in her eyes for a moment.
The bag of scripts is by the door. The scripts, are being given back to me as there is no room in the new room for much, so the scripts are returned.
It is hard to go through them, marked with notes for the productions. Corrections, suggestions. All in her handwriting that is so distinctive. From another time, because, since she is older than I am, she was trained to write nicely by hand.
I try not to cry as I look at the notes, memories flooding back from 20, 30, 40 years ago.
A note about an actor jumps out at me, the sadness lifts for a minute as I remember and laugh, remembering how we laughed together over him. Were we ever that young?
Now when I have something produced, which is less and less as I slow down, I write in the notes that she produced the world premiere. That this show has gone on to win prizes and be done in many places.
She may not remember, but I do. And so there is another returning....I will return to visit whenever I can. When I can't come in person, I will call, and hope she remembers who I am. And I will pillage from her life some of our story together, which will adorn other works of mine that she will never produce. But I will know.
(Turns to leave, stops, looks back with tears in eyes)
And somewhere deep inside, I know she will.
-----------------------------------------------
For my dear friend Diane - don't worry, like MacArthur, I will return!
tigerteam1@gmail.com
(The writer comes out holding a bag of.....you guessed it...scripts)
In my lifetime, I have had many scripts returned.
This is because I am old enough to remember when scripts were hard copy - paper - and they were delivered by mail or by hand to the directors and theaters and actors.
Paper that started to get a little worn after awhile, when it was returned over and over, resent out to save copying costs. So a new title page and last page are attached- hoping the new readers will not identify the age of the script from the worn edges. Like make-up, like a disguise. To hope the scripts will be read and maybe, maybe, asked to the party Asked to be produced....or at least, a second read by another person in the organization.
How many scripts came back? Well, I sent out hundreds and most did not win, most were not produced. Okay, a lot were, but the percentage was small. Most came back, and you get used to it. It is never a happy day to see an envelope in the mail. At least not in the past. Now everything is electronic. The rejections on email. So the hurt is instant, but not as physical.
But these scripts returning was the most difficult of all the scripts I have ever gotten back. Because they are from a friend. Many years of scripts. A person who produced my work, liked my work, enjoyed talking about my work.
Now she can barely remember that she has a granddaughter who is my own daughter's age. Do I have a granddaughter she asks me? Yes, I say, her name is Emily...... Oh, I remember now, and there is a light in her eyes for a moment.
The bag of scripts is by the door. The scripts, are being given back to me as there is no room in the new room for much, so the scripts are returned.
It is hard to go through them, marked with notes for the productions. Corrections, suggestions. All in her handwriting that is so distinctive. From another time, because, since she is older than I am, she was trained to write nicely by hand.
I try not to cry as I look at the notes, memories flooding back from 20, 30, 40 years ago.
A note about an actor jumps out at me, the sadness lifts for a minute as I remember and laugh, remembering how we laughed together over him. Were we ever that young?
Now when I have something produced, which is less and less as I slow down, I write in the notes that she produced the world premiere. That this show has gone on to win prizes and be done in many places.
She may not remember, but I do. And so there is another returning....I will return to visit whenever I can. When I can't come in person, I will call, and hope she remembers who I am. And I will pillage from her life some of our story together, which will adorn other works of mine that she will never produce. But I will know.
(Turns to leave, stops, looks back with tears in eyes)
And somewhere deep inside, I know she will.
-----------------------------------------------
For my dear friend Diane - don't worry, like MacArthur, I will return!
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* Note: A few words about 'free' - all these monologues are protected under copyright law and are free to read, free to perform and video as long as no money is charged. Once you charge admission or a donation, or include my work in an anthology, you need to contact me for royalty
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Janet S. Tiger 858-736-6315 CaregiversAnon.org
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8
2 comments:
Beautiful. Perfect.
Beautiful. Perfect.
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