Today is a bit of a milestone for me: I’ve officially written every day for ten years.
(TL;DR: reflections, gratitude, and much earnestness.)
The impetus was a trip to New York in February 2016 to see Hamilton, which was my utter obsession senior year of high school. I spent the whole show blasted back in my seat, and left the theater (totally cheesily but entirely earnestly) convinced that I HAD to teach myself to write like I was running out of time. I started writing my first play the very next day and just haven’t stopped.
I’m nothing if not stubborn, and I’m glad I got this particular habit to stick. I love writing. Not every aspect of it, not all the time. But I love the life it’s allowed me to build. I love the people that playwriting has brought into my orbit, I love feeling like I’ve found my place in the world, and I love the shivering exuberance of finding the missing moment, of stumbling into an essential truth of a scene, of feeling the pieces click into place.
I owe many thanks to
@alisousa for supporting me, indulging me when I duck out at random times to tap-tap-tap away, and providing the best live-in dramaturgical services a girl could ask for. Thanks to my parents for that life-changing NYC trip and for all the years of cheering me on and tirelessly showing up to for me (as well as for getting me hooked on the gateway drugs of Les Mis, Guys & Dolls, and Jesus Christ Superstar on those long Wisconsin drives). Thanks to
@goodheart9na for being down to take on (and make infinitely better with her perspective and expertise) no fewer than seven different scripts of mine and always leaving her inbox open for more. Thanks to my first mentors
@jefftalbott ,
@tyler.r.marchant , and Laurie Schmeling, for reading so many terrible early drafts and giving me the feedback to improve and the encouragement to keep going. And shoutout to
@lin_manuel for being the spark a decade ago. I did it. I wrote my way out, and into something pretty damn special.
