Mercy! Mercy! That Dang Nabed PERCY!

More on One Act Play Class

More on One Act Play Class

I like to write my blog’s in the evening and give it a rest. Then I work them in the morning putting it in final form. There is a lot to be said for letting your writing cool off so you can skim off the flux that rises to the surface over night. The same can be said for firing off emails in the heat of the forge and regretting not allowing them to settle to room temperature. I’m sure everyone can attest to the truth in that and probably think of a few personal examples.

Teaching a course is every bit as much a learning experience for the instructor as it is for the students. When I designed the One Act Play course I did a smart thing. I took a great reference text by Buzz McLaughlin, “The Playwrights Process” and used it as the core document. To be sure I read several other texts on the subject but his was far and away the most useful. What he did was sit down with sixteen (16) of the top playwrights in the country and use those interviews to write the book. It was a great idea. What resulted was not what Percy Goodfellow thinks, Buzz’s view of the craft, or some researcher or college professor, but the views of the Profession’s top practitioners.

It soon became clear that the first two lessons had to deal with an outline and character sketches. A good stage play doesn’t just come together by magic as the playwright idles along. From the outset there needs to be prior planning and some clear thinking…Listen to what Buzz had to say.

“….plays are wrought rather than written… raw materials must be shaped and formed into a working whole by following precise specifications. All parts must serve as a function to the finished piece. And like the wheel the play must have a hub, a center, which distributes the load evenly. It must spin freely. It must have perfect balance. If a wheel is made wrong it will quickly fall apart while running on the roadway. If a play is made wrong it will quickly fall apart while running on the stage.” This is something most students don’t realize when they start out.

They think, “…how hard can this be?. Three little scenes, some action and bango!, I’m finished. Why I’ve written short stories the same length that have gotten me a lot of praise and compliments. I have arrived! Is Percy ever going to be impressed with what I crank out.”

So my reasoning went on how students think to begin with and based upon it saw the need to front end load as much structure as possible before giving rein to their talents. I want them to succeed so badly but it soon becomes evident that this is a bit more difficult then they anticipated and somehow still need to bring out the best out in their work.

Some don’t see it in these terms, perhaps think me a bully or that I go too far in telling them what to do. They write something that might sound good on the surface but that wheel wobbles and threatens to fall off before the third scene rolls around. I get nervous as I read their creation, imagining what the audience is thinking as they sit watching and listening to this "drama" unfold. Then I have to figure out what’s missing or poorly wrought and tell them what it is so they can consider fixing it. Sometimes they choose not to fix it and become indignant and discouraged and wonder if I really know what I’m talking about. I am acutely conscious regarding my own limitations but still I know when something is wrong and not working..., even if I can’t always precisely put my finger on it. So I say, “have you thought about this or that…?” And they come back…“What the heck are you getting at Percy? “ And the frustration builds and the pain intensifies. At this point the temptation is great for the student to throw in the towel and I have to try and sense when to back off.

The point is that learning any craft is a painful process. Some pick it up quickly and for others it takes longer. Some of the quick learners peak and go no further….Some of the strugglers have the light come on down the road and surge forward. My challenge is often deciding what is enough and what is too much. However when I see the first drafts budding to maturity, the blush on the rose if you will, it's quite a high. I have some great students this semester and each brings to the table a unique set of experience, talent and writing skill. How lucky can a guy get?