Heartland Plays

A Single Burst of a Water Pipe

Rebecca — Sat, 07 Apr 2012 00:05:59 +0000

Last year the theme for our summer inter-related arts half-day camp with the non-profit I started back in the 90′s was “Give Me Water.” I’ve written before about water and its necessity to sustain life and its ability to take it away. A week ago I discovered a place in between: how a single burst of a water pipe can drown a home. A few years back I fell in love with a house in Danville, Kentucky. Truth is, Kentucky is one of the most beautiful places on Earth and I can say that because I have traveled around the world. Okay, so I have traveled around the world…doesn’t mean I’ve seen it all. But among the samplings of the wondrous places I’ve had the great fortune to see, I can tell you Kentucky marvels the rainforest with its lush greens and tall trees, the Serengeti with its thoroughbreds racing across fields of bluegrass and the Austrian Alps with its enchanting mountains and limestone palisades. I often tell people who have never seen it that Kentucky is one of America’s best kept secrets, perhaps not so much now since I say it so often. And Danville is a lovely small town centered between horse farms, moon rainbows and bourbon. And my modest 1920′s two story stucco with its art deco fireplace and hardwood floors just minutes from Main Street is my place to call home. So when I got the call that water was exploding from the upstairs bathroom and the house was flooded, it was almost like hearing that my best friend had been hit by a bus and that first visit into intensive care when you see your loved one battered and torn to shreds, well, you want to throw up. I live by the mantra that “it’s not life and death” and the latest variation of “I have two legs” inspired by the young mother I saw at Christmas while I was shopping for a new pair of boots and she and her family were laughing and joking and full of good cheer even though she only had one leg. We are whiners in this country, we really are. So I hate it when I feel so bad for caring so much about nothing more than wood and mortar. But I do, and I feel so bad that I wasn’t there to take care of her, of it, of that place of my own that I call home. I am fortunate that I have wonderful friends to help me through this not life and death crisis like Pat and Emily who offered me places to stay. And Guy who took the time to check on the house to give me a bird’s eye view before I arrived by plane. And Susan who pulled my antique doll from the drenched closet and my husband, Mark, who calls me hourly to keep up my spirits. And Bruce, who I trust completely to tend to her wounds just as you want the very best doctor to care for your loved one when hit by a bus. When all is said and done, I know this is small potatoes. Not a tornado. Not famine or war. Only a single burst of a water pipe heard no where else in the world. I’ll survive, and so will my house. After all I have two legs.

A Warm Winter in Montana

Rebecca — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 03:12:05 +0000

It’s been a warm winter here in Montana. Seldom below 20. Yes, I realize that is below freezing but for Montana, it is practically a heat wave. I’ve kept myself even warmer catching up on submissions from reading scripts to editing scripts to marketing scripts to offering contracts to sending rejections…not one of my favorite things to do, but only about 1 in 10 submissions are accepted. Some authors may wonder what makes the difference between a script that I warm up to and one that leaves me cold. One may be surprised that it isn’t a brand new playwright that gets the cold shoulder. Ironically, they are usually easy to spot with ill formatted scripts and one page scenes that translate into four or five page acts. Okay, so I admit, the Act I that runs four pages is an instant turn-off and usually ends up with a quick, thank you for submitting but I don’t think your play fits our market. On the other hand, we recently received a play that looked like the author had never typed a script in his life…and probably hadn’t…and yet it was one of my favorite works of the new year; quirky characters with deep, dark, humor that grabbed me from the first utterance, and I do mean utterance, of the former high school athletic star that now sat sputtering “Get him!” from his wheelchair while his father poured him endless glasses of whiskey. Yeah, it’s true, the author needed to tighten the script and solve inconsistencies, but it is our pleasure to work with him because, frankly, it was not just a good play, but a REALLY good play and we are pleased to have the opportunity to publish it. Old themes from new perspectives also catch our attention. One of our recent favorites the “professor having an affair with his young protege”…heard that enough. But the professor is a master of mime and his wife tends her garden as if the only problem in life is to raise her son like the plants she nourishes…and those images and sensibilities translated become fresh like greens in the garden silently devoured by the insects that feed on them. Sometimes the mere list of characters and setting at the beginning of the script invite me to curl up with a warm blanket and hot cup of tea and see where the story takes me. Okay, so I read scripts on the computer, but the tea is always next to me…and the sign of a good play is one where I find myself on page 30 and my tea is cold. If by page 10 the page is cold and the tea gone, I typically skip to the end and read the final scene to see if anything may have transpired that would warrant my reading a single page more. I do wish more authors penned comedies, and more understood the difficulty of many theatres in casting a play with 8 men and no woman…though that doesn’t keep us from publishing a fine script of all men but there is a greater chance your script will be read cover to cover with a cast of 8 women. All in all, though, the real winners are good writers. Well, not just good, but REALLY good. And it never fails to amaze us what exceptional scripts we receive from established writers…not just those living in big cities on the east or west coasts, but in small towns all across America. There is no such thing as a “local” writer when it comes to exceptional material and supporting the work of a talented author from your hometown is better than a cup of hot tea on a cold day in February and for me that is a high mark to hit.

The Wonder of Friends in the New Year

Rebecca — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 01:37:46 +0000

Last night was one of those wondrous evenings of dear friends ushering in the New Year together. Mark and I have been on a whirlwind holiday dash to see family across the universe, or so it sometimes seems when your plane leaves minutes after six and and by two P.M. the topography has changed from the wilds of the west to the fields of the midwest, neither particularly covered with snow; an oddity for this time of year. From one Christmas celebration to another, from one side of the family to another three hours away. And then a seven hour drive south to the beautiful small town of Danville, Kentucky where in a short number of hours friends would be gathering in our cozy soon to be decorated home for a sentimental journey through our history together, and a few precious hours before midnight to catch up on the latest year’s experiences, joys, trials and triumphs. I shopped until two A.M. after arriving shortly before midnight. In the morning the house, which I had not been to since May, was transformed into a magically inviting place with colored lights and decorations and a warm, gentle fire in the fireplace. Throughout the afternoon, the focus turned to preparing colorful arrays of fruits and vegetables, shrimp and desserts arranged in aesthetically pleasing configurations on glass and silver plates, as an artist can’t help but do. There were offers to help with the decorating and preparations, but with little acceptance as I create as I work, without planning or foresight, taking the props and tools and resources at hand, and working them into a collage of sensory delights much as one does creating a play or a dance, a song or a painting… that one of a kind thing that we must do because it is inside us, and that we hope will please those around us. When the guests arrived and the house filled with cheer, it was obvious to me that the real gift on New Year’s Eve was not the decorations or the food, the colored lights or the fire, but my precious friends who would take their time from their own lovely homes to share the start of 2012 with Mark and me. They are each a special work of art created well over time and when presented to to the world, are received with love and appreciation. They have earned a standing ovation for all that they are and all they have given me. Here’s to you, my dear friends, and to a joyous and propserous New Year!

From the Wilds of Montana to the Streets of LA

Rebecca — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 19:11:12 +0000

Mark and I just got back from a quick weekend in LA. Drove out through Las Vegas, had a delicious meal in the Tower restaurant at the Paris with scrumptious crepes the next morning. Delivered the car we were driving to my stepson and helped him get set-up in his new apartment in West Hollywood, enjoyed a vegan breakfast and a donut with grandchildren at the Farmer’s market next to the Grove then hopped a plane back to Helena, completing some edits on two plays by 1:00 AM and getting them off to our webmaster to add to our Heartland Plays, Inc. catalog. It’s amazing how life gets sandwiched in between bites of this, that, and the other and yet it is the substance of our existence. I work, I write, I create yet much of what I discover about humanity lies somewhere in between. What we learn from our personal experiences drive our drama and the more serious the funnier it becomes. We woke up this morning with a bull elk standing outside our bedroom window. We got a text while we were in LA from my son and his family back here at the ranch that the bears had gotten into their trash and pooped on their deck. From one extreme to another, the best of both worlds. Old and young; upright and four-legged; the real and the fantasy world; city and country. A foundation for a perspective on life which we, as writers, share with our audiences on the written page and on stage.

Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head

Rebecca — Sat, 21 May 2011 22:15:25 +0000

For all the places in the world that need water… and I know there are many…I apologize in advance… And for all those who have more water than there boots can hold, I ask your forgiveness…but sitting at my desk overlooking another dreary spring day is finally getting to me. Okay, so I shouldn’t complain. I have fresh clean water to drink. The deer and the antelope and all the other amazing creatures that live and hibernate around me have green grass to eat and streams to wander. If I had time to plant a garden, the flowers and vegetables would find splendor in the moist ground. But me… I just want some sunshine and a little warm weather to enjoy before spring is gone. I took a few weeks to return to Kentucky to cut out a month of lingering winterspring weather here in Montana. It was chilly and rainy almost the entire time. I mowed the lawn three times and had three 65′ tall trees that had loomed dangerously in the wind for too many years removed from around the house. I planted new flowers and pulled freshly sprouted weeds and I put on my new hat and went to the Kentucky Derby where I lost on every race. All this in the three or four days that it didn’t rain, and some while it rained because there was no other choice. I must admit, though, that it didn’t take warm weather or clear days to enjoy the races with my husband and friends, or my trips about town spending time with familiar faces I’ve missed seeing across the long miles, or sharing Easter with my dad and my family in Ohio or sharing a birthday celebration with my stepson, Nathan, in Chicago on the way back to Montana. They brought their own kind of sunshine to my life. So, I guess overall, it’s a waste of time to complain. The weather is what it is and for some it brings joy and others, unfortunately, much more destruction and pain then a few wet days have ever caused me. So this is a reminder to all of us who just want to see a few sunshiny days before the trees turn red, that we are the lucky ones and to be eternally happy for the good days we share with family and friends no matter how many clouds fill the sky overhead.

The Times, They are A-Changin’

Rebecca — Mon, 14 Mar 2011 23:14:59 +0000

Yeah, the times are a-changin’. Used to be it was virtually impossible to get your plays read by a publisher. That is, unless you had an agent or significant production history…like a play on Broadway. But with an onslaught of new play publishers, scripts are being scarfed up like rent controlled apartments on the upper east side… if there still are any. I wouldn’t know because I left New York City many years ago–and still miss it. When I first founded Heartland Plays, Inc. I was filled with optimism that I could change the course of publishing– rooting out some of that talent that I know is languishing behind keyboards in coffee houses and kitchens across American, in small towns and universities and big cities and remote islands. In truth, we have found some truly gifted writers. But good work is becoming increasingly scarce. Although our publishing model is in line with the new wave of online publishing, I am concerned that too many of our writers are ending up with their work posted in play banks and not with publishers who intend to market their work. Heartland Plays, Inc. is not a play bank. Our submissions go through a highly selective process that searches for work that demonstrates professionalism and talent and that we hope will contribute to great theatre and not just to numbers and titles in a play list on a website. But recognizing that the times are a-changin’, we know that we must work all that harder to attract that talent and work all that harder to draw attention to the plays we publish; plays we hope will be read often and considered seriously for production at theatres across America. As we reach more directors through our attendance at theatre conferences, through our e-mail and print advertising and yes, through our website, we feel confident we can make a change at theatres in small towns, and universities, in big cities and on remote islands, wherever audiences and actors share time together– touching lives, entertaining souls and altering thoughts and perceptions through the dramatic arts.

The Desserts of Your Labors

Rebecca — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 19:20:35 +0000

The new year started with a bang. We had a great New Year’s Eve party here at our home in Montana. I stayed up till five in the morning the night before making five different types of desserts, only one of which I had ever made before. Following “The Joy of Cooking” cookbook I found in the cupboard left over from the 10 years our home operated as a Bed and Breakfast and special events facility, and of course, which I had never opened before that moment, I made my selections based on the directions I could actually understand. I have never been very domestic. I didn’t take Home Ec in high school. I had never washed my own clothes until college, or mopped my own floor until I owned my own house. After I moved to Kentucky from New York City, I raised a great garden. Most of it was flowers. It was, however, the one period of time in my life when I truly enjoyed creating special meals from fresh garden vegetables for my family. But I went to graduate school when my son was ten and his best recollection of my cooking from that point on was that I never cooked real food but assembled “sides” much like Cher in Moonstruck. When left to my own devices I would live on fresh fruits and veggies, nuts, yogurt, cheese and bread and butter. Lots of butter. Fortunately for me I have low cholesterol despite my addiction to high fat milk products. Which brings me back to the delectable desserts I created; rich in cream and chocolate. There was rum chocolate mousse with fresh home-made whipped cream topping, wine gelatin with whipped cream topping, chocolate coffee custard with whipped cream topping and plain old vanilla custard dusted with nutmeg. At 4:00 AM I realized I had to wait 30 minutes for the gelatin to cool before mixing in the rum sauce so I pulled out the flour and whipped up my old standby; apple cinnamon pastry bites. I carried the last of the desserts to the fridge in the garage just before 5 in a foot of snow at about 10 below. But oh, what a hit those desserts made. Okay, so what does any of this have to do with theatre or writing or plays or productions? I don’t know except that we all know when the creative bug bites, we work till we’re done, and oh, wow, what a story our thoughts can tell. Our plays are like desserts served at a party. We create them, we present them and then we wait to see what response we get. A half-eaten wine gelatin won’t get you past the first reader, but when the next director gorges himself in your work like a sorbet glass of rum chocolate mousse, then there is a good chance you’ve got a hit! Here’s to a great new year to you with many success stories and many stories yet to tell and may you always, now and forever, enjoy the desserts of your labors.

Live and Well!

Rebecca — Mon, 20 Sep 2010 21:55:16 +0000

It’s been a long time coming, but Heartland Plays, Inc. is finally going live with our new website! What started as a 30 day revamp of our website has turned into a four-month programming extravaganza. The initial drop dead deadline for launching the new site was right in line with my trip to Venice Beach, Florida for the International Community Theatre Festival. I had made a number of posters proclaiming the June launch date. The day before my flight I was making new signs that stated “Visit our new website coming in July.” In July I e-mailed a message to all our authors with a link to the work-in-progress to assure them we we had our eye on the ball, though a little behind schedule. It took a number of subsequent meetings with the programmer to get us on the same page. Theatre doesn’t work like every other business. We’re not really selling a product, we’re granting the rights to use intellectual property. That’s not so easy to fit into the standard shopping cart. In early September I sent out a new e-mail requesting that the authors check for mispelled names and titles and to bring any blatant errors to our attention. I gave my word we’d be live by the end of September. And with September 30th a little over a week away, I’m scrambling to keep my word. When you think about it, four months isn’t that long. Nothing much is born that soon after conception. I sincerely hope that by taking our time to try and get this right, that theatres will come to respect our company and take adantage of our time and money saving purchase process. Kermit the Frog used to say it isn’t easy being green but the Internet sure helps play publishing do its part. I am really excited about theatres having the opportunity to read our plays for free and to purchase the performance rights without all the paperwork and mailing contracts back and forth and waiting for books to arrive. And since we actually grant theatres the right to download the script, it will be so much easier to “spread the written word.” The director can just e-mail the file to every actor, designer, stage manager, costumer, props mistress, production assistant and so forth and each can copy his or her own script. And no one ever has to worry about getting books back to the director. Or erase all that blocking and all those notes! I guess I’m getting a little ahead of myself, but I truly am excited about going live and I hope to hear from authors and directors as to the ease in using the site. It feels so good to be live and well once again!

Drowning in Plays

Rebecca — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 21:56:45 +0000

I have a terrible cold. My third cold this year. I haven’t had a cold for ages. Working with kids in the theatre training program in Danville, Kentucky seems to have given me some sort of natural immunity…until now. Out here in Montana they must grow their own western strain of bugs and they love me… can’t get enough of me. Today I’m drowning in… Hmmm, you expected me to say “snot” now didn’t you? No? Well, I wanted to but I thought it was a little too crass. So, lets look at a more pleasant way to drown… in manuscripts. After a winter hiatus from reading plays and focusing instead on editing the best for publishing in our online catalog, I’m back to working my way through the huge pile of manuscripts lingering in the dark waters of my “to read” file. I know there are treasures buried there just waiting to be discovered and I plan to dive deep to find them. If what we’ve already found among our submissions is any indication of what’s still out there, I can’t wait to get my feet wet again. Okay, enough with all the water metaphors. The truth is, I love reading your plays and am sorry I have taken longer than expected to get back to you regarding your submissions. Acquisitions take a lot of time. And once we offer a contract, there is still the process of editing and formatting your play. I’m a little afraid to announce again that we will begin accepting new submission in May, but there you go. So, if you’re reading this, you have a heads up that we will be soliciting submissions again soon. I’ve set the deadline for getting to the bottom of the virtual stack on my desk for May 1 and then I’ll be ready to jump back in the water with a whole new set of fins. I wouldn’t mind a moment to catch my breath before diving in again… uh, oops, sorry about that. It’s not funny any more. It’ snot.

New Plays Now and Then

Rebecca — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 21:59:54 +0000

It’s 2010. 2010! How can that be? An entire decade into a new century. A hundred years since George Bernard Shaw wrote Misalliance… 1400 years after some scholars say Shakespeare penned A Winter’s Tale and two thousand four hundred and forty years since Sophocles etched out Oedipus the King. And yet perhaps the greatest tragedy of all… Twenty three years since I won the Kentucky Playwright Award for By Reason of Insanity. During the festival of new plays legendary playwright Horton Foote (A Trip to Bountiful) likened the work to Strindberg. The audience erupted with questions and comments. I figured 10 years best and I’d have my first Broadway opening. Twenty some plays later I still haven’t quite figured out the mystery of success but I have figured out that there are a whole lot of playwrights out there that have work that deserves a spot up in lights. Pair that with a whole lot of audiences that support their local theaters whether they’re attending the work of a centuries known playwright or the premiere of a brand new play and you just might have a bead on one of the long roads to success. The key is, the play has to be good. Okay, so it helps in Community Theatre if your sister’s playing the lead or the director is your second to last best friend or you’re interested in checking out the new seats you helped pay for with your last donation. The point is, however, that communities have a tendency to support their community theaters and community theaters produce a lot of plays in this county. So it’s hard to imagaine that lots of really outstanding playwrights still have trouble getting their work seen, let alone making a decent living off their talent. And yet nobody owes them that opportunity and few over the centuries die anything but penniless if they counted on talent for their daily bread. But persistence does make a difference. And so does publishing, especially in this time of cyber communication, interstate interlocking and multi-national interfacing. The future of publishing as a means to reach new audiences particularly in communities all across America follows a well-known premise that Shakespeare him-or-her-self espoused. That is, that plays are meant to be performed. Few people pick up a play to read so publishing plays in book form has its limitations. I happen to read lots of plays but I’m an editor and a publisher. And besides that, I love reading fine drama. But when a theatre is looking for a new play, particularly a Community Theatre, who’s going to sit down and read a list of two thousand descriptions of new plays, select 20 or 30 of interest and pay for a perusal copy of six or eight or ten playbooks? So why not go the easy route and just pick a title everyone knows, avoid the perusal copy and the shipping cost and the time it takes to fill out the paperwork. Let Actors Theatre of Lousiville spend the time and resources to tell us what new plays are worth seeing. Or not. Play publishing is looking ahead at saving theatres time and money and a few trees along the way. Heartland Plays, Inc. is a role model for new play publishing. Using the Internet, allow theaters access to your plays so they can be read for free. It’s a lot easier to take the chance on a new play by a less than world reknown author if it doesn’t cost anything but time to read it. That’s where play publishing is headed and Heartland Plays, Inc. has arrived. What better opportunity for a theatre then to read a description of a play that sounds interesting by one of our truly gifted authors, click on the sample button and read the script. For free. Heartland Plays, Inc. offers reasonable licensing fees and the convenience of downloading the play for a nominal fee and making as many copies of a play as is needed or wanted without violating copyright. Now, isn’t that novel, since we know almost every theater has violated copyright at one time or another. Imagine, the director can send an e-mail to every cast member and every single member of the production staff with an file attachment of the play and each can copy his own script on his own recycled paper (we all accumulate more than we can imagine) and the theatre saves a whole lot of money on individual scripts that end up lost or never returned. Heartland Plays, Inc. is moving ahead one script at a time behind the greatest paradigm shift in play publishing since the turn of the century. The 20th century, that is. My, how time flies!