ten red hen

Writing, writing, writing away at this play, asking myself questions like, "how do demons learn to communicate on earth, do they have radio, or simply guide-books by Lonely Planet? or do they speak in minimalist Gertrude Stein-style prose?" and "how is the third act going to be the radical shift it needs to be? What do I mean?" as well as realizing, sharply, painfully, that I can't write like Christopher Marlowe.

While also dealing with space problems for doing the show itself, a bit disheartening considering that it's going up in a little over a month come hell or high water.

Ah, the wild and wacky world of poor theater! Get your red hots here! Come and get 'em!