backtrack vol. 1: playwriting in atlanta

may 28 - june 3, 2023

Welcome to backtrack, a section of melancholy coffee dates where I focus on things that happened before I started this whole writing business. Now obviously I won’t be cataloging every significant thing that has happened to me in these nearly 22 years I’ve lived, but I will do some from the past couple months.

When I think over my college career and what was the “best part” of those strange four years, the simple answer is the people. And while that is of course true, the close second is the playwriting department. The influences of Paul Amandes, Carson Becker, Grace Reasoner, Sarah Schorle, Alana Gordon-Levine, Elliot Lockshine on my life cannot be understated. I would not be who I am as a person or a playwright without them. I love you all so deeply.

Their belief in my writing and their never-ending support led me to apply for a summer playwriting festival in Atlanta, Georgia back near the end of 2022’s winter semester. And in my final two weeks at Columbia College with all these amazing individuals, I found out I got in.

Let’s make one thing abundantly clear: I had no clue what to expect.

As I sat on the baggage claim floor in Atlanta-Hartsfield International Airport four weeks later, I still had no idea. I had received the week’s itinerary only days prior, and got on a plane out of Boston hoping I would figure it out as I went. And thankfully, that is exactly what happened.

After playing approximately 1.7 games of sudoku on the floor, the intern assigned to pick me up (if you’re reading this, hi Grace!) arrived and we were on our way to housing.

Horizon Theatre, our lovely hosts and producers of the festival, got us rooms at Georgia State University for the week, and after a little chaos about misplaced keys, my fellow participant Kadin and I found our rooms and settled in (which for me meant a cold shower, Queer Eye season 6, and a microwave cup of Velveeta mac n’ cheese I had stashed in my backpack, eaten off the bottom of my razor. Don’t ask.)

I also spent much of my morning texting the lovely aforementioned Sarah Schorle, who to my great luck, was also accepted into the festival. And it was deeply saddening when, after sending back and forth “I hope we’re roommates” texts for days, we found our we were not.

By the time our interns showed up at GSU to bring us to the theatre, I was still alone in my little apartment. But I finally met up with Sarah (whom I had not seen since college graduation) and we were shuttled over.

For anyone who hasn’t been to Atlanta, it is a surprisingly drivable city. And while I don’t believe I was ever really in the heart of it (hey, I didn’t have much time to explore my surroundings), commuting by car seemed to be the most practical choice. Compared to Chicago, there were much more cars and much fewer pedestrians.

After a quick 15 minute ride we arrived at Horizon Theatre for the first time, a regional theatre in Atlanta tucked in the back of a multi-use building. We entered through the back door and went down a ramp painted blue with string lights across the ceiling. And the paint didn’t stop there; the lobby and the stairwells were covered in fun colors and patterns. I loved it immediately.

This colorful space felt perfect for a week of creativity, and I found myself tucked into its corners during writing time daily.

Our first night consisted of playwright speed-dating, a typical icebreaker activity but with approximately 26 people. Each round had different questions, and one of my favorite interactions were bonding with the other Sam (an incredibly talented playwright from Texas State) over our hatred of the movie A Bug’s Life.

Afterwards we got to watch Horizon’s closing night performance of Support Group For Men by Ellen Fairey and chat with the cast. Later on in the week, Ellen herself joined us on a zoom call to chat about her process and career as well.

When I was dropped off at GSU that night, I concluded that I was one of two participants who had no roommates, which I was pretty relieved about. While I consider myself an ambivert, I have a bit of trouble in “forced” social situations like sharing a living space with someone I don’t know. But I was more than happy to chat with everyone when I wasn’t about to collapse from exhaustion. And that was most nights of the festival.

The rest of the week went by in a blur of workshops, meals, cups upon cups of weak coffee, playing Wordle and the New York Times Mini Crossword at breakfast (there is now an active group chat where we send our stats each morning), pen smudges on the side of my right pinky, and lots of laughs. At night, we each got to have a ten-minute excerpt from the piece that got us accepted read aloud with professional actors in the Atlanta area, and it was both fun and inspiring to see how different all of our work was. And for anyone wondering, yes, mine was the girl scout play (Bearica lives on).

Each writer was also assigned to one of 5 mentors, 3 of whom were MFA students and 2 of which were produced playwrights. I got paired with the absolutely lovely Ro Reddick who is working on her MFA at Brown. Ro was the most grounded force in the room at all times, but also had a great laugh and even better advice. I feel very lucky to have worked with her and the rest of my writer cohort (Brianna, Jackson, & De’Aveyon).

Our assignment for the week was to write a 5-minute commissioned play for a group of up to four actors. After chatting with Ro, I decided I wanted to lean into theatricality and something a little outside of realism, which led me to my play RULES. If anyone grew up playing the card game Mau like me, then you’ll be familiar with the concept. This is a card game in which you are only allowed to know two things: it is loosely related to uno, and you aren’t allowed to talk. You learn the rest of the rules by receiving penalty cards from the players who know how it works. And if you win the round, you get to create your own secret rule that you can punish people with until they understand it. And that is about as much as I can explain.

Our 5-minute pieces were saved for the end of the festival where we did a full group presentation staged reading. Mine ended up opening the event, so my nerves got out of the way real quick.

And before I knew it, people were being shuttled back to the airport and then it was my turn. My flight was just under 3 hours and I watched “The Whale”, which could be another post on its own.

And then I was home. And it was done.

I’m so grateful for this experience and the opportunity to work with so many incredibly talented and passionate and kind people. This festival is something I’m going to be thinking about for a long, long time.

It would be impossible for me to fully explain every amazing bit of advice or every great quote I heard over the course of the week, but I will throw in some tidbits for the road. And a final shoutout to Sarah, for being my codependent human as well as a wonderful, wonderful friend.

Sam’s NSYPF tidbits:

• Language constructs memory

• If you don’t want to write something, ask yourself why

• Write real people; good people do bad things, bad people do real things

• Don’t enter a room with only gratefulness; know your worth and be confident in it

• People are paying for your lease on the world

• There is no shame in working the jobs that allow you freedom

• Why do you want someone to read your draft? For acknowledgement of your hard work, or for feedback?

• When you are an artist, your work is going on all the time

• If you are not 100% ready to let go of your work, DO NOT PUBLISH IT!

• Saying “no” makes it easier to say “yes”

• Don’t be anybody’s bitch

• Speak up for yourself, your characters, and for others in production rooms

• “If you hang around the barber shop long enough, someone will give you a haircut” -Denzel Washington (apparently)

Bonus! Here’s a list of plays I was recommended throughout the week:

• 7 Methods of Killing Kylie Jenner - Jasmine Lee Jones

• Portrait of Dora - Helene Cixous

• Mary Page Marlowe - Tracy Letts

• Top Girls - Carol Churchill

• Guards at the Taj - Rajiv Joseph

• Wives - Jaclyn Backhaus

• Hamletmachine - Heiner Müller

• Rhinoceros - Eugène Ionesco

• The Wolves - Sarah DeLappe

• Dry Land - Ruby Rae Spiegel

• Graceland - Ellen Byron

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As always, thanks for reading and caring about the words I write down. This is becoming very therapeutic for me.

Next time on backtrack: The Eras Tour!

- Sam