Am headed to Red River Theatres tonight for the screening of the winners from the New Hampshire 48-Hour Film Festival. (Read the excellent pre-review here.) Hope to see you there!

Careful what you say around me...

...it may end up in one of my stories.

Recently a friend was lamenting his life's situation - a number of unfortunate circumstances brought on by the economic downturn. I, of course, suggested he write what he knows--after all, he's living a wealth of material right now. Instead he permitted me to use whatever I want from his life. And so I did. Today. In my newest ten-minute play for the stage. I've gotta say - I love it! It's a jolly fun-filled romp through an agonizingly painful reality. (I always fall in love with my words at first glance; we'll see what a few days cooling period does for me--and how I feel when I revise them at the end of the week.)

Yesterday after the excellent performances of several short plays and scenes from longer pieces at the New Hampshire Theatre Project, we authors joined the actors and directors on stage for a Q&A. Much of our discussion revolved around our characters and how we write them. Do we picture the stage as we write, one fellow writer in the audience wanted to know, or do we--as she's been doing lately--picture the characters in their real life circumstances and write with that in mind?

Each of us agreed that it's far better to picture our characters as real, multi-dimensional beings, tackling what life throws at them as best they can. And in the case of the ten-minute play, we may only glimpse their problem, but it's best to show us that turning point--or one of the main turning points in a character's life--that ten minute window into an "a-ha" moment for a character and how a character reacts when pressed into a corner.

By glimpsing that moment on stage, we create a life before and after the scene. Audiences can infer enough to build up what occurred before the curtain opened, and hopefully will care enough to ponder what comes next in our characters' lives.

While I don't always know if the audience is wondering over the future lives of my characters beyond the story's end, I often hear that my stories of family have touched someone and that they can relate because either they too have lived something similar, or they know someone who has.

What a gift to give a writer. That an audience member empathizes with any character you've created means you've shared yourself with others, and probably even created truly three-dimensional characters.

So watch what you say around me. It might end up as a piece of one of my characters' lives. Though if it touches and even inspires just one person in the audience, maybe that's good enough reason to share your stories with me after all....

(Pencil drawing above by Leo.)

Summer Reading, Happened so Slow...

Not that life's returned to normal, but I am today able to focus (finally) on some ordinary summer hobbies. Thought I'd share, as I finally submit my last book request form for this fall's semester of teaching at UNH.

I picked up the Stephen King "On Writing" again - and am requiring it for my Advanced Scriptwriting class and for the Media Writing class - but would also like to suggest anyone who likes to write read it over the summer. It's unlike any other book on craft you've ever read. I know a few others who have read it too and agree with that assessment (including my son).

The other book, which was required of my last Media Writing class and which is again required of my class this fall, is Mignon Fogarty's "Grammar Girl's Quick and Dirty Tips for Better Writing." It incorporates silly examples, but is by far the easiest to comprehend grammar manual available today. Read it and keep it. Refer to it as necessary. Again, this is a light read and though it seems incomprehensible to say: it would make a good beach read. Or at least a great, quick, grab-me book for that next time you find yourself in a long wait line.

What else is everyone reading this summer? (Please, do share!)

I have about three books going now including two Asperger handbooks and a short story compilation by NH Humorist Rebecca Rule; I'll be re-reading the two "textbooks" mentioned above and all the others required for my classes ("The New Rules of Marketing & PR" by David Meerman Scott, "Little Miss Sunshine: The Shooting Script" by Michael Arndt, & "The Shawshank Redemption: The Shooting Script" by Frank Darabont).

I will also be reading four others: a new biography by Concord Novelist Merle Drown, a first novel written by a Goddard MFA dorm mate of mine (Bev Hamel's "Bethania: The Village by the Black Walnut Bottom"), the unfilmed original screenplay adaptation of "A Raisin in the Sun" by Lorraine Hansberry (I LOVE her stage play by the same name; apparently the 1961 film may have been based on another adaptation), and the play "Death and the Maiden" by Ariel Dorfman (I'm producing a play adaptation of his this autumn and wanted to read more plays he's written).

Of course I also have a couple more plays to read by that incomparable Irish dark humorist Martin McDonagh (who wrote the screenplay to the awesome film IN BRUGES) and, as always, I have a huge stack of books I'll probably never get to read, but will daydream that I might.

Happy summer reading (and movie watching), everyone!

Am flying to Maryland today to finally interview a fascinating cartographer who worked on the DEW Line project up near the Arctic Circle in the 1950s.

I stumbled upon him, or rather his photographs, while researching my graduate thesis project, a spec script set in Nunavut, Canada—in and around Baffin Island. His daughter had posted her father’s photographs from his time there to her flickr account.

Our first correspondence was in February of 2008. And here it is June 2009 and I’m finally listening to the advice of William Zinsser and getting on that plane. “If a subject interests you,” he writes at the end of chapter 23 in his book On Writing Well, “go after it, even if it’s in the next county or the next state or the next country.

“Decide what you what to do. Then decide to do it. Then do it.”

I am so happy to have finally arrived at step three, even if I wonder if I might be subconsciously endorsing Nike.

- - - - -

PHOTO CREDIT: Bill McTigue, as posted to flickr by his daughter Terry (link to entire set of photographs above).

Island Dreaming...

Led my last class today in UNH-M summer school (by attending the matinee at Red River Theatres!) and met with my independent study student for the final time before his next assignment begins this fall. So once my grades are in, I will be kicking back, uh, er, strike that:

I will be writing, redesigning my fall classes, weeding, lawn mowing, reading, visiting colleges with my teens, interviewing a fascinating fellow in southwestern Maryland, helping my son with his new challenges, dramaturging (if you'll allow me to make that a verb) a play for a New Hampshire performance this fall, helping to plan the next New Hampshire Film & Television Office Stage Reading, finishing up my duties as one of three judges for the 48-Hour Film Project of New Hampshire (if you don't like a decision, I was out voted by my two contemporaries...that's my story and I'm sticking to it!), and, of course: island dreaming!

Our last full week of summer we'll once again be visiting the Casco Bay region of Maine. Almost every summer for several years now we have driven up to Portland, unloaded our cargo at the docks, parked our car for a week or two in the Police Garage, and made the pilgrimage to one of the jewels of the Casco Bay region. This summer it's Chebeague Island - our first time there...and our next to last Casco Bay Lines-served island to visit.

To say I love our time away on an island that is so close, yet which feels so far away, is an understatement. I like that we are car free for a week. And we sometimes even go computer free, except two summers ago when I awoke and worked on my graduate thesis every morning, watching the lobstermen and the seagulls cull the bay. And I love the fresh lobsters, sunsets, and family time...even if we hardly see our teens who, along with their cadre of guests, fish, dive off the docks, and suntan every day.

Sweet dreams, everyone. I know mine will be. :)

Don't Cry Over Bald Tires...

You know when you cry about one thing, but it’s really about another, larger thing going on in your life? That was me today as I pealed out of the tire merchandising lot where originally they were going to replace all four of my bald tires under warranty (which aren’t even a year old yet, doggone it!), but instead decided to point out some ridiculous miniscule text that apparently declared that my tires were TOO WORN OUT to be replaced for free. Say what?!

Okay, so fast forward about three miles. And I do mean fast. Too fast. And I’m sitting at this traffic light crying, feeling completely ridiculous, when it hits me: it’s not the tires that I’m crying over (though I am mad at that snow job and will NEVER buy a Toyota again even if they are the only car company left at the end of all this automotive fiscal mess…).

I’m crying because after weeks of reading and studying this thing called Asperger Syndrome, and trying to figure out how to help my son, I feel like I’m no farther than when I began. Like I’m stuck in my bed sheets trying to outrun the monster in my nightmare. And even though I read the part in the OASIS book last night that said if you feel like you’re stuck after recently having received the diagnosis for your kid: stop, take a breather, you’ll feel better in a few days.

So there I am sobbing and feeling self conscious, like everyone is watching me wondering if the crazy woman is going to be able to see when the light finally turns green. My worries were for nothing though as the ditzy woman next to me chatted on her cell phone and blew her nails dry. (I mean OMG – I thought I was the problem on the road at that moment!)

And so that’s my day in the life of a parent of a kid with AS. And it doesn’t even compare in the tiniest amount to what my son is going through. But if I think too much about it, I may go insane. So instead, I think I’ll heed the lesson in the book and take a few days off. Finally read that Rebecca Rule book that’s been sitting on my nightstand. She’s a New Hampshire humorist (and a great woman); I’m looking forward to letting her entertain me.

(Graphic above by my son Leo; he just had artwork accepted for exhibition at the Annual Asperger's Association of New England Conference in Boston this October! We're awaiting word which of his pieces was selected. Uh, sorry for the bad photo of a great piece of art; that's a mom for ya....)

Walking a road less traveled but finally named...

...in comfortable, familiar boots.  (Drawing by Leo.)

We have it: the confirmed diagnosis.  For our son.  Asperger's Syndrome.  On the Autism continuum.  Somewhere near full-functioning, but not quite. Not yet.  But perhaps one day.

And with it a door has been opened.  And a light switched on.  And every other illuminating, "a-ha" style metaphor you or I can conjure.

So this is what is on my mind these days, and what I will likely most often blog about.

I'll begin with a link to a poem on the Asperger's Association of New England website.  Bet you didn't know there was such an organization, did you?!   Neither did I till an early diagnosis by another doctor sent me searching for answers to my hundreds of questions.  And now I can't live without the comfort and support of the group.

The poem is "Because My Son Thinks Different" by Debi Baron.  It reminds me of the time I went to collect Leo from kindergarten and the teacher met me at the door.  She told me how, in honor of Earth Day I think it was, she handed each child a circle after talking about globes and maps, and asked them to draw Earth.

As she made her way from student to student, admiring their handful of green continents among the blue of water, she arrived at Leo's drawing.  On it was one single land mass, surrounded by water.  She complimented him on it, while trying to gently point out that there are actually several continents.  "Now there are," he confirmed.  "But this is before the continents shifted; it's Pangea."

The teacher was impressed, if not a bit alarmed.  I was proud, and not at all surprised.  

And so it was too with his recent diagnosis.  And I'm relieved that it was he who prodded us to bring him to a specialist to help determine why school is so difficult for him--even though at 16 he knocked the GED out of the park and scored high enough on the SATs in seventh grade to never have to take them again.

He will be an adult next week.  And while this new path still has a few potholes to weave in, around, and out of, I am happy to see signs that he is maturing.  A college sophomore on medical leave of absence, he hopes to transfer schools eventually.  First though he wants to take a couple community college courses to regain his self-confidence in his classroom abilities.  And this week he began a job, which he landed through his own connections, so he's feeling a huge sense of accomplishment there.

And while we still have tons of questions, we're learning to take one day at a time as a family.  Thank goodness life is about the journey and not about the destination, since--even wearing our comfortable boots--we'd likely arrive a wee bit late....