(A WRITER, on stage, writing at a desk. Another man, a CHARACTER, sits at another desk, as described by the WRITER.)
WRITER:
Act one, scene one. A run down hotel room. A man sits in front of a battered typewriter. Beside him sits an empty bottle of scotch and a picture of a woman at a park. A naked light bulb casts shadows over the man’s worn face as he stares at the photo. He speaks.
(The CHARACTER looks up thoughtfully and is about to speak. He pauses, and then moves to speak again. Long pause.)
CHARACTER:
Well?
WRITER:
What?
CHARACTER:
Aren’t you going to give me something to say? You’re the writer.
WRITER:
I’m thinking.
CHARACTER:
The play can’t start until I say something.
WRITER:
The very first line of the very first scene is the most important line in the entire play. It sets the whole tone of the piece. The words have to be chosen and arranged perfectly or everything that follows will sound false.
CHARACTER:
Sounds great – let’s hear it.
WRITER:
It’s not something you can rush. Just give me a moment.
CHARACTER:
Sorry, I didn’t mean to rush you… Take your time… Don’t mind me… You know, they say you should start with a joke. “A priest with syphilis walks into a bar with a German Shepherd on his shoulder— ”
WRITER:
Would you just be quiet for a minute? I’m trying to think.
CHARACTER:
What’s this play about anyway?
WRITER:
It’s about life. It’s about love found, then lost, then found again. It’s about how the dreams of youth turn into the regrets of age. It’s about…
CHARACTER:
You have no idea, do you?
WRITER:
No. No, I don’t.
CHARACTER:
Just make up something.
WRITER:
I’m trying.
CHARACTER:
Try harder. I have to have something to say.
WRITER:
I said I’m trying.
CHARACTER:
You’re a writer. Write!
WRITER:
It’s not that easy! Just leave me alone for a moment. Let me think…
CHARACTER:
…they say you should write what you know.
WRITER:
You’re not helping!
CHARACTER:
Maybe I’m a millionaire bachelor on my way to a steamy rendezvous with the lustful daughter of a school teacher.
WRITER:
No.
CHARACTER:
Maybe I’m a bantam weight prize fighter coming to grips with my leukemia.
WRITER:
No!
CHARACTER:
…and there’s this chesty nurse with a heart of gold…
WRITER:
Would you just shut up!
CHARACTER:
I have to be something, for Christ’s sake… Millionaire bachelor?
WRITER:
No!
CHARACTER:
It’s a lot better than anything you’ve come up with. Not much of a writer,
are you?
WRITER:
I’m working on it! Can’t you see I’m working on it? I just need that one idea, that one kernel of truth that will give birth to the entire piece, those first few words that set everything in motion.
CHARACTER:
You’re putting too much pressure on yourself. I know, skip the first scene.
WRITER:
What?
CHARACTER:
Come back to it later. Just start with scene two.
WRITER:
Start with scene two?
CHARACTER:
You’ve built too much of a mental block around the first few lines. You’ll never get past it. Just pretend you’ve already written the perfect first scene and you’re ready to start scene two.
WRITER:
I can do that.
CHARACTER:
Okay, just clear your head and think of something for me to say.
WRITER:
I can do this. Here.
(The WRITER hands what he’s written to the CHARACTER. The CHARACTER pauses thoughtfully, then speaks.)
CHARACTER:
I am slain… What?!
WRITER:
It’s a good line.
CHARACTER:
You can’t kill me in the second scene.
WRITER:
Why not?
CHARACTER:
Because you don’t have any other characters!
WRITER:
Oh… Maybe I can write some other characters.
CHARACTER:
You can’t even write me. How are you going to write someone else?
WRITER:
I’ll just write what I know.
(The UBER-WRITER enters, carrying a notebook.)
UBER-WRITER:
This draft isn’t going that well. Maybe I should re-write this scene from scratch.
WRITER:
Uh, where did you come from?
UBER-WRITER:
Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.
CHARACTER:
Who are you?
UBER-WRITER:
I’m the writer.
WRITER:
I’m the writer.
UBER-WRITER:
No, you’re the writer character in a play that I’m working on. It’s about a writer suffering from writer’s block talking with the imaginary character of a play he’s never going to write.
WRITER:
I’m just a character?
CHARACTER:
What do you mean, “never going to write?”
UBER-WRITER:
Oh, he’s never going to finish it. See, it’s all about the creative process. You know, the inner dialog of the soul and all that. I can’t have the writer character successfully finish the play.
WRITER:
Why not?
UBER-WRITER:
Because then it wouldn’t be art. He has to suffer needlessly if my play’s going to have any weight.
(The ALPHA WRITER enters.)
ALPHA WRITER:
That’s such a bad cliché. What was I thinking?
CHARACTER:
Okay, now who are you?
ALPHA WRITER:
I’m the writer.
UBER-WRITER:
I thought we were the writer.
ALPHA WRITER:
This is all getting out of hand. I’ve got a lot of editing to do.
WRITER:
What are you talking about?
ALPHA WRITER:
This whole play within a play thing. I thought it was a good idea, but obviously it needs more work.
UBER-WRITER:
Play within a play?
ALPHA WRITER:
I thought it would be clever to write a play about a dialog between a character and his writer nestled within a larger play about the life of a struggling playwright. It’s just starting to get out of hand.
WRITER:
This is all just an elaborate play?
ALPHA WRITER:
Oh yes, you three, this stage, the audience, the whole city – it’s all just something I’ve been working on for the last few months.
CHARACTER:
Everything here is just something you made up?
ALPHA WRITER:
Everything. I don’t want to brag, but I’m really pleased with the level of character development and backstory I’ve achieved. You see that guy there… (HE POINTS TO SOMEONE IN THE AUDIENCE). He’s an ex-hockey player secretly in love with that woman from the other table. That woman over there…she’s a hard as nails police detective determined to solve one last case.
CHARACTER:
What about that guy? (HE POINTS TO SOMEONE ELSE IN THE AUDIENCE)?
ALPHA WRITER:
Nobody. I’ll probably cut him in the rewrite. The point is that everything is happening just the way I outlined it with the director. There’s really no reason for anyone to get upset. Everyone’s sub-plots may seem chaotic and scattered now, but it will all come together meaningfully in the end.
UBER-WRITER:
So we don’t actually get a choice in any of this?
ALPHA WRITER:
Sorry.
WRITER:
Every moment of joy we have…every moment of sorrow…is because you decided to write it that way?
ALPHA WRITER:
I’m afraid so.
(The CHARACTER, the WRITER, and the UBER-WRITER reflect on this for a moment.)
WRITER:
Can I just ask you one question?
ALPHA WRITER:
Sure.
WRITER:
What was your first line?
ALPHA WRITER:
“If it weren’t for the broken cigarette machine, we never would have met.”
WRITER:
Not very good, is it?