I am many things these days: Mom, Wife, Step Mom, Chief Cook and Bottle Washer, Actor, Theatre Teacher, etc.
I am also a playwright. I wear this title hesitantly. Calling oneself a writer of any kind is a big deal, and I’m still developing my skillz.
It is not “playwrite” nor “playright” but “playWRIGHT.” One who puts things together, who makes things. Like a shipwright or a cartwright.
I put stories together. I’m working on a play now, no title yet. It has taken me over a year to get to it, trying on science plays (I am not the person to write a science play for kids, it turns out), community based theatre (I still want to work on this project, looking at stories from the local Latino Community and Pennsylvania Dutch community, but what I began writing was not for kids), and finally, my old stand by: story-based theatre.
I read a fantastic book of Latino Fairytales (because I want to write something of interest to people in my community, in Reading, Berks County, Pennsylvania, Mid Atlantic). There is a fast-growing Latino population here, and the best way that I know to build bridges of acceptance among people is through art. My art is theatre.
I read a story about a girl, a witch, who could fly. And I used that story for inspiration to write this play. My friend Kirsten said, “You are developing quite a style, an impresario-storytelling-fantasy-shifting-time-space-continuum-soft-and-warm-friendship style.” I can own that.
I wrighted this play. I can’t own all of it; it is a collaboration between me, my community, and the original creator of that story. But I am feeling more confident calling myself a playwright.