Hi everybody,
First of all, and most importantly, thank you GS, TT, Ann2, Hopalong, Lollie (welcome back!), Bones, Lighter, and WiseChild for your comments. Your encouragement means a lot to me...
Concerning "Dr. Frank, Therapy App," the play not accepted to this year's Boston Theater Marathon, I got a couple lovely e-mails from Kate Snodgrass, the Marathon director. First, she gave me the general public ratings (remember, in the first round, anyone can pick up a packet of plays and rate them.) The scale ranges from 1-2 (essentially, not worth the finger energy that went into typing the script), to 9-10 (a must see at the Marathon.) Then the reader is expected to comment on why he/she gave the ratings they did. I received a 2 (with no comment), a 6 (interesting idea, but didn’t like the idea of listening to the computer rather than seeing a person), and a 7 (imaginative and well-done, but s/he was bored by it).
Then Kate said: “Personally, I liked the play. It WAS imaginative and funny.” Also: “When a play works—like this one does—and it doesn’t get in, there’s no answer.” She also suggested that the play (unbeknownst to me) had made it to the final round (evidently because she advanced it herself), but the judges, if she remembered correctly, thought it was more a “skit." She said ”skits are usually about plot and not about people having strong needs, and the judges usually opt for the people plays.”
My e-mail response to Kate:
“Hi Kate,
Thank you so much for the feedback (especially yours!). And your support. Yes, judging is subjective—we all have different brains. But, if I may take a moment to respond:
“Dr. Frank, Therapy App” is a play about a real person (Timothy) facing a world of narcissism and self-deception, finding someone (if only in cyberspace) who finally understands, and then suddenly and tragically being deprived of that precious connection.
The reader/viewer is introduced to this subtext from the very first line of the play:
“Why is it that every time I read a biography about one of my heroes, by the end of the book they’re no longer my hero? And I’m not even sure I’d want them for my friend. It just makes me feel more alone.”
Considering the play a “skit” (all about plot, and having little to do with human needs) is confusing to me. Yes, the play is funny (I hope!)—but the subtext is one of tremendous pain, the pain of aloneness and voicelessness. And this is pain many, including myself, have felt, our entire lives.
By the way, ironically (given that the Marathon is run by a Boston University department), one of the first times I felt this pain was as a first-year doctoral student--some 40 years ago--in Boston University’s Clinical Psychology program . My mentor was an older psychoanalyst, who had me listen to tapes of his therapy sessions with a patient and then wanted me to comment on them. After the third “listening session,” he asked me what I had to say about what I was hearing. I said: “I know there are unconscious processes in the brain, but what I don’t understand is why psychoanalysts group them all together and call them ‘the unconscious.’ I naively expected him to respond: “That’s an interesting question—let’s talk about it!” Instead, he went on a 3-minute rant, calling me a “fucking American psychologist,” and essentially never spoke to me again. (Hmmm…maybe I’m one of those “fucking” (blank) playwrights!). I have many more life stories on the same theme as "Dr. Frank, Therapy App" … but the point is: The play is about the human need for connection and voice and how narcissism and self-deception often get in the way.
Thank you again for providing this opportunity for me to submit my “stuff,” your willingness to give feedback, and your work for a wonderful cause. I so appreciate it…
Best,
Richard
P.S. I donated $... to the Boston Playwright’s Theatre this afternoon…”
And Kate's terrific response back:
“Yep, pain is in all of us, isn’t it? Hidden sometimes, and sometimes….
Thanks for the donation. That is very kind of you! And keep sending in plays, will you? I had a friend—now a Pulitzer Prize nominee—who wrote novels (his name is James Burke). He would send out a draft to a publisher, and when he got back a rejection letter, he’d file it, and then send the exact same draft out to another publisher., and on down the line. He didn’t think about it, didn’t change a word, but kept at it. It’s a job. And... It’s all about finding the person who understands what you’re trying to do.
Thanks again!
Best, Kate”
So, wait 'til next year. Thanks again, everyone, for your support and encouragement!
Richard
