Pat Tuesday: build-your-own-lore
Y’all! What a wonderful Tuesday.
I’m excited to report that BIG BEAR has made over $50,000 in less than a week. What’s happening?! I can’t begin to explain how excited I am to make this show, and the shared passion for creating independent theatre has honestly bowled me over—we still have some goals (that will allot us things like appropriately paying the cast and getting some super key set items), so if you have a chance, check out the Kickstarter. If we reach our current stretch goal ($55k), donors get some cool enamel pins!
We’re doing an improv show to raise more BIG BEAR money this Saturday, August 16th at UCB! Improv based off AirBnB listings featuring Angela Giarratana, Vic Michaelis, Jon Matteson, Joey Richter, Emily Skeggs, and Chris Renfro! Tickets (live and livestream) are still available but going fas—get them here!
I will also be going live tomorrow (Wednesday 8/13 at 12pm PST) with Jon Matteson and maybe some more cast to celebrate and look at AirBnBs—donors to the Kickstarter will get a link so you don’t wanna miss.
Anyway, on with today’s thoughts —
I think writers (and specifically screenwriters) have to overcome a particularly unique and challenging pitfall, one unique maybe just to them: making work so good that you make yourself invisible. Many playwrights have figured it out—it’s regarded as a voice that gets protected and nurtured—but it’s not the same in film and TV. It can be a struggle to continue to keep hold of your project in that world, and in many instances, writers get taken off of projects or replaced entirely. I did a punch-up room for a movie some time in the past 10 years (NDA, sorry) that had 70 (SEVENTY) writers who contributed to it, and at the screening I watched before its premiere, the credits at the end said “WRITTEN BY TBD”. Written by TBD?! We just watched an entire movie and we’re not yet sure who wrote it?!
I’ve frequently gotten questions about getting noticed as a writer, and I’m sure you’ve heard the traditional stuff, so I’m gonna give you some weirder advice: you gotta do stuff that gives you lore. By this, I mean you need to make stuff that people talk about, but it doesn’t just have to be “that script was good”. It’s important for you, as a writer, a day and age of short attention spans, to allow yourself to show a playfulness and commitment to your style. Putting on a play you believe in fully independently certainly builds lore, I’ll tell you that much.
Some of my own lore returned to me the other day at a bar. A stranger came up to me and said “you don’t know me—I do comedy and someone told me that one time you wrote a sketch a day for an entire year”—and I told him that’s very sweet, but that’s not true: I did it for two years.
Right out of college (2013), I decided as an experiment to help me find my voice, I wrote a sketch a day using a “this day in history” calendar as my prompt. I called it “History For Liars”, and to keep myself honest, I posted every day to Tumblr. Then, in 2015, I decided to do it again, this time with a focus on character monologues—so my dear friend Caroline would take a picture in Austin, upload it to Tumblr, and I’d write a monologue based on what I saw. That was called the “What’s Their Deal Project”.
They’re still up now. They’re probably bad and stupid, but if you wanna see what a 22/24 year-old Pat was workin’ with, give ‘em a glance:
I never did anything with these. This was 730 explorative moments of self-analyzing what I found funny, and 730 chances to express commitment and build reps towards this thing I knew I wanted to do. Sometimes I’d have some great ones, and sometimes it was 1 in the morning and I had a deadline to make. They were my own private thing, but 12 years later, I still have people coming up to me and asking if I actually did this. I guarantee you nobody that’s talking about these actually read them (they’re not impressive). And I couldn’t do it forever—I tried another one called The Brain Rack in 2018 based on a method of writing Ray Bradbury used to do, but I couldn’t get past February. However, the act of doing them has cemented in some peoples’ brains my skill, sight unseen—something that’s been helpful, because sometimes a writer’s work can land very far away from the writer’s name. To be clear, I’m not asking you to go out and do “stunt writing”—your lore can also be the quality of your script if you have wonderful friends/admirers who will sing your praises. BIG BEAR began to build lore after a table read because I had a group of friends there who all dedicated to sending it to people they love immediately. Just keep and mind that nothing can build lore if nobody else sees it, and as you figure out ways to push yourself, I challenge you to figure out ways to push yourself publicly. Your courageousness will be met with enthusiasm or at least curiosity, and voila, you’ve got some budding lore.
PAT’S PROJECTS
BIG BEAR on Kickstarter - we’re rolling along and continue to need your support, thank you!
Mamma Mia! But Different POP PUNK - my favorite jukebox musical clusterfuck is doing another show at Dynasty Typewriter this Friday! It’s a pop punk-ABBA mashup and it’s written by Jess McKenna and Zach Reino, featuring amazing talent. Live and livestreamed, check it out!
PRIME! The Amazon Musical by Moon Goon - Moon Goon, your favorite sketch supergroup, has their pro-Amazon propaganda musical going up this Sunday, perhaps for the last time! I directed this and play a sleep-deprived executive named Tevin Crest that you’re gonna wanna see. Live and livestreamed!
Orlando Medical on AOAOAOA - The ever-wonderful Hannah Pilkes stopped by Artists on Artists and we did a fake medical procedural—it was beautiful!
Mac McAnally on License to Chill - I got to speak to one of my all-time favorite songwriters and guitarists, Mac McAnally (of the Coral Reefer Band) on our Margaritaville podcast—every time we chat with him it’s the coolest! He’s on the road right now, go see him and the Reefers play with the Doobie Brothers!
PAT’S PICK
Well, I’ll Let You Go - I saw this play in New York last week, in this little church space in Brooklyn, and it’s some of the best acting I’ve ever seen. The structure is very cool and clear—an ongoing discovery of the details of a woman’s husband’s death told in only two-person scenes with an omniscient, ever-present narrator—and it builds so beautifully. Definitely check it out if you’re in the city and want to see some high-caliber theatre away from Broadway.
Okay gotta go! Love you! And subscribe/donate to the Big Bear Kickstarter, so many exciting developments coming soon!