playwriting stories.

A finished his playwriting assignment this morning. It was a rough draft.

"That means it doesn't need to be finished, mom."

***

About two weeks ago, the playwriting students saw a Stephen Sondheim play. Stephen Sondheim founded the teen playwriting group. So it was no big deal that each student had his address and wrote him "thank you" letters for comping tickets to the play.

Tonight, one student received a reply from Mr. Sondheim.

"Because she asked him to reply," said my A.
"Erm...did you ask him to reply?" I asked.
"No. Why would I do that?"
"No reason. Just wondering. What did the Sondheim letter look like?"
"It was in courier font. Like it was written in a typewriter, in neat little blocks. He answered a question about the new Sweeney Todd."
"Wow."
"Yeah. And then all my classmates said they were now going to revise their letters and ask him a question, too."

***

So...did you turn in your rough draft?
Yep. And you know what?
What?
There was this student who didn't turn in his. So our professor asked where it was. The student said, "it's printing."
Oh yeah? (me, suspicious of this student's real motives)
Yeah. Then midway through the class, our professor asked for it again. And the dude said, "It's printing."
OK.
Then finally, when our pizza arrived and everybody was ready to leave, he said it wasn't ready yet. It was "still printing."
Uh-huh.
Guess what?
What?
When the printer finally finished printing, his play was about a foot thick. [A demonstrates the width with his hands] Our professor freaked and asked him to have mercy on the poor trees that gave up their lives to be his rough draft.