A slow-growing idea for a play

I think I have an idea for a play. Not saying it too loud, as I don't want to panic the idea and make it evaporate. But I understand its contours just enough that I can start making notes and asking myself questions on a mind-map.


For me, nurturing an idea to the point where I can begin to ask questions about it is often a long, slow process. Something comes into my mind, and I make myself a little note about it; maybe do a couple of thought experiments about how this thinglet might seem as a short story, a play, a song...And then I set it aside and just let it be there.

I revisit the idea, by accident or on purpose, from time to time. And every once in a while an idea lets me know it might be ready for a closer look.

This particular idea first came to me in its fledging form at least 30 years ago. And it has stubbornly stuck around all that time, slowly gaining facets and and depths, so I guess I should do it the honor of trying to wrap a play around it.

A nice thing about being a writer is that you don't really have to know why you write about certain things, why certain ideas make your eyebrows wiggle. If you get good enough (and lucky enough) as a writer, people will do that work for you in their reviews and doctoral theses. If your body of work never gets so prominent that critics want to dissect it to see what makes it tick, that's just fine, too. It's the body of work that's the primary thing, not the analysis of it.

The writer, unless he's Henry James, is more inside the story he is writing than outside it. He is as avid (and maybe as scared) to find out what happens next as is any of his characters. And that's how it should be. The writer should pull critical functions off to one side during the writing process, and bring to bear a naive enthusiasm for the unfolding story. Time enough for critical scrutiny in the second and further drafts.