Tag Archives: Karen
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Will I ever again write on a topic that isn’t Trump related? I’ve been asking myself this question for weeks now. Why aren’t I writing about everything else that distresses me or demands attention, as I have in the past, e.g. racism, ageism, solitary confinement, women’s rights, war? We, in the U.S., are facing a future that in reality may be worse than any scenario I’ve imagined. I’ve never developed a plot like the one we’re living, because I don’t write horror stories. At least I didn’t before Trump rose from the bog. So, has fear overwhelmed me? Has my body been drained of blood and my soul drained of purpose? All I can say is: Hallelujah! Yesterday, I received an answer to my self-query when I heard about Jan Chamberlain and her decision to publicly resign from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir rather than sing at the upcoming presidential inauguration. […]
Pull it together, for crying out loud! I can’t settle. I can’t write right. Words fail me. My anger feeds my fear and my fear feeds my feelings of insignificance and impotence and that, in turn, feeds the deadening belief that everything I do from here on must be of great significance. I need to write a warning that’s gripping and funny and pithy, and personally momentous, while, at the same time, historically accurate and, above all, true. But, in fact, I can barely see the screen because I can’t stop crying out loud! Literarily. Literally. Then Miriam sent me Sarah Ruhl’s speech. Every artist deserves a daughter like Miriam. Remarks from playwright Sarah Ruhl on accepting the Harold and Mimi Steinberg Charitable Trust Distinguished Playwright of the Year Award at Lincoln Center, New York on Monday, November 14, 2016. Thank you so much. I am so honored, and humbled, […]
I’ve just begun reading the new biography of Penelope Fitzgerald. Fitzgerald published her first book at the age of 58 but didn’t become famous until she was 80. I’ve just begun my 6th full length play even though the first 5 have never, yet, met an actor, director or stage. I’ve just begun training my new puppy and coming to terms with my older dog’s cloudy eyes. I’ve just sent another play to the Yale Playwriting Competition. I don’t know, but I’m guessing I’m competing with the young, the edgy, the up-and-coming and probably haven’t a dust bunnies chance with a Dyson. A stranger asked me the other day (don’t ask me why), “How long ago did you retire?” Retire!? Me? Never! What the hell? I’ve just begun! Oh, imagine what possibilities might arise when we refuse to withdraw into the night.
