Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Welcome to Our Blog

Welcome to the Playwriting One Class Blog.
This blog is a forum for you to share your ideas and work, to reflect on the lessons of class, and to take your discussions beyond the classroom.

The first post you'll be asked to contribute will be by the next class; it's explained in the syllabus, and is based on your reading. If you have questions, email me or call. I'm pretty accessible.

1 comment:

  1. Monologue for the simple man.

    The man in the picture just gone done working and is dirty. He holds a chainsaw in his hands. He looks tired, but his eyes look determened. He stands next to a huge tree.

    It may not look like the most glamorous job, and it isn’t, but it’s not that bad. I am a third generation lumberjack.

    I am trying to stay afloat. The money never stretches as far as I need it to and things don’t turn out the way I want them to. I work intensely all day long, usually in the sun. The work is hard, heavy and back-breaking.

    I’d like to lose this dead end job one day and go somewhere and move up in the world like Jessica says. But… I don’t exactly know where I would go, or what I would do, something a little easier on the bones for sure.

    Some folks would call me crazy for saying something like that. It’s tough enough to get any job in these times, particularly me without a high school diploma. Hell I shouldn’t be complaining, a lumberjack is paid well by the hour because of the hard labor. I am thankful for what I have, but I am using all of my resources and making no forward motion.

    There is not a lot of opportunity these days; you take what you can get. Physical labor is my only outlet. Who knows, soon I may not have the luxury of a choice. Everyone is fearful of the next round of job cuts.

    My father told me something. He told me that in life I shouldn’t just wait for somebody to give me a piece of their pie, that instead I should make my own pie. It was just some stupid expression that he had heard somewhere or possibly he just made it up, but that is easier said than done. It seems as though the road that I must travel to make my pie leads me exactly to where I didn’t want to be in the first place.