Yellow Brick Road Stepping Stones

It was a funny thing being in the front.

I’m not used to it.

I wasn’t only told to do so, but I was strongly encouraged to do it the easy way … voluntarily, otherwise I would have been dragged out of the audience.

And that, I did not want.

So I stood there, among the other writers, in my New York & Company 7^th Avenue Slacks and black converse, while other lady writers were in dresses and high heels, waving to the people who were clapping.

I thought it was going to end there … but no … the director of the theater thought it would be a good idea to introduce the writers, one by one. So … there I was at the end of the line, nervously waiting my turn. When he finally introduced me, I announced that I had written La Visita … and they applauded.

 

 

It’s not like I didn’t think they were going to applaud, they clapped for everyone else, but somehow it was different. Other than my kids, I don’t think anyone has ever applauded for me. Maybe volunteers during a race, or at graduation. But nothing like this … this was for imagination, for story, for my words.

I looked at my friends who were sitting in the audience waving at me, and I waved back. I was grateful for their presence and those that had come to the previous shows. The praise and kind words were humbling.

But that was not my favorite part.

I like being behind the scenes.

I liked sitting in the audience and watching their reaction, watching people that I didn’t even know smile at little nuances I had written and hear their laughter during comedic moments. I loved hearing my friends laugh at what I had written. I enjoyed watching the actors become my characters and live out my words on stage. I enjoyed watching the impact of my story.

Most of the time with fiction, I don’t hear or see anyone’s reaction, unless they write to me and mention something. So I’m usually hidden away in the lonely writer sanctuary in the middle of the night, high-fiving myself. But this time around, their smiles and laughter were some of the best high-fives. The hugs from my friends meant a great deal. The compliments from the other writers and actors in the festival were reassuring.

Being in the audience took me back to that good feeling, that girl-scout shindig during my elementary school years, where I stood next to my troop leader, Maria, and watched as the girl scout masses at the camp  watched the show I had helped write and put together.

I felt good and I was proud.

I had landed on another stepping stone in my yellow brick road, one that also took me on a Bucket List Adventure … seeing my words come to life.

And now I’m back in my WordPress community sharing the news and catching up on some reading, and comments. I’ve been on a semi-hiatus for some time because of all the work it took to put this together, but now I return even more inspired to follow the writing journey and take you along with me, if you want to ride on this bus.

Buen Camino my friends.

 

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Negatives and Positives and Girl Scout Flashbacks

Good things don’t usually come out of bad experiences. I mean they may come afterward but I usually have to work at it in order for something to happen.

It just doesn’t come out on its own, I have to find the lesson.

I have to search for the funny in it. My lens changes and I’m on the lookout and eventually … it happens. I find strength, awareness, thicker skin, appreciation for myself, acceptance that failure happens and I get back up. I find something immeasurable that contributes to me as a person.

But this time … this time I found opportunity.

Like most writers certain places, people, or experiences spark inspiration and the story just comes out. You weave fact and fiction into your storytelling and at the end you’ve created something out of a negative experience. Could be a great story, could just be writing therapy, or it could be both.

I found that one of my previous writing sessions fueled by familial dysfunction turned into therapy, which turned into laughter, which turned into a short play, which turned into a writer’s opportunity.

This week I was notified that my short play had been accepted into a 10-Minute Play Festival at one of theaters downtown.

I had a total high-five moment when I read the email … for once … it wasn’t a it’s-not-you-it’s-me rejection letter. It started off with … Congratulations. So after having a quiet celebratory moment I woo-hooed myself. I was able to bring about something positive, from such an emotionally draining experience.

I celebrated the news and kept this happy moment to myself for a while before telling a few friends and while I was quietly smiling at this moment I had flashback.

I was in the fourth grade, I was a girl scout, and I had gone camping to the big girl scout wilderness camping pow-wow convention. On the last day of workshops and badge earning festivities each troop needed to have a talent to present on stage. Some groups sang, others danced. Apparently my troop decided to act.

 

Does anybody have any ideas for our play? Who wants to help write it?

And there it was … the spark.

While others wanted to be on stage, in front of the crowd, I wanted to be behind the scenes. So I scribbled down notes, dialogue, and action. We practiced a little bit and then they hit the stage.

I stood next to my troop leader, Maria, hugging her in excitement and angst, squirming just thinking about how my words were gonna be out there. She smiled and hugged me back as we watched it unfold.

“It’s gonna all right,” she said.

It was the first time I saw my words live and in action. And it was all right. People laughed at the funny parts. People smiled. And some people didn’t, and that was all right too, because I was still smiling. I had done it.

And now years later I was gonna get to do it again. That has brought back the fourth-grade-girl-scout-giddy feeling and for that I am grateful. Something positive did come out of something negative.

It’s totally possible.