A New Idea

Oh, dear. It's happened again. I can't get anything done. I'm late everywhere. I'm making bad decisions. I'm crying a lot. And why, you ask? Did something "horrible" happen to me?

Yes. It did.

I have an idea for a new play.

I know there are those of you out there who are saying, "Okay, you've finally lost it altogether there, Noble." But let me explain...

It is truly horrible. A new idea. Someone once said it's actually the greatest form of procrastination...which could be what's happening, but I don't think that's it, because this idea is...well, it's STICKY. Meaning, that my brain and it, are stuck together. Like a couple of teen-agers in a movie theatre...ah, high school...

But I digress.

So, an idea for a new play. What a delight, you say! What a joy, you say! How empowering, you say!

The writers among you will understand that that is not what it is at all. What it is is what young parents experience when they're told they're pregnant. And they weren't planning on it. Suddenly, EVERYTHING CHANGES. And what changes most? It's the THINKING. We Parents-To-Be are not thinking about the delight or the joy that is the impending child, we are thinking about: "How the hell am I going to pay for their college?" or "I'm never going to fit into my skinny jeans again!" or "We're going to have to MOVE!" or, the most common exclamation of all, "We're never going to have sex again!" And these fears pervade EVERY WAKING MOMENT.

It's the same for the writer with the sticky new idea, only the exclamations are different. It's more like: "I can't go to work today, I need to get this idea for the second scene down!" or "I'm sorry, what did you say, I was thinking about where the act break should be" or "I can't possibly help you with your wedding, I have to figure out if the play's going to be set in London or Paris!". Then, of course, there's the inevitable near misses on the freeway and the sleepless nights, and, my personal favorite, the standing onstage in the middle of my current play wondering if one of the characters in the new play should have an upper or lower class British accent...it's really pretty awful. Kind of like not paying attention to your teen-ager, because the new baby needs to be changed.

So, what do I do? What do we do, we writers? We do what we've always done. Our lives be damned, the play must get written. The baby must get changed.

Sigh...