Missing Spalding

(December 14, 2006)

I feel like watching Monster in a Box tonight. I have that and Gray's Anatomy, but on VHS only. I should get the DVDs. I gotta get Swimming to Cambodia.

You know, one time I had this idea that I would get like five of the local writers I know and have a Reader's Theatre night. I'm pretty good with lighting, I could meet with them in advance to work out a "timing" thing with like a spotlight and different gobo's and gels. Lighting really makes or breaks a show, I'm tellin' ya. Without some kind of smart lighting, a Reader's Theatre would just be...well, reading aloud. Which is fine but...I mean, Reader's Theatre, come on.

I should have fucking thought of it earlier in the year, because this feels like the right time of year to do it. I just can't see it happening in the summer. Maybe somewhere in the back of my mind I feel that writers are more hopeful and energetic during longer days of sunlight and beachy weekends and fruity drinks. So the writing is fluffier. While the more interesting stuff gets rooted out during the dark of days, with holidays looming, family issues coming around again and self-realization and resolutions abounding. I mean, people kill themselves.

Not that it's got to be a whole big dramatic thing. And, again, everyone is always so swamped this time of year, would anyone do it?

Hm. To take it one step further, I could also start a writer's group, and in that case the Reader's Theatre could just be something held twice a year for our friends who wonder what we do in the fucking writer's group all the time.

The perfect room is at the BCA. It's like almost black box, but has an old school feel. It's echoey.

I had no idea this is what this entry would be about when I started it.