I’ve found my script, an old 10 minute play called Stick Up. It was the first thing I wrote when I quit marketing to do writing. The rules to the Naked Fairy Tales website insist it only be 10 pages, and Stick Up is closer to 14 pages, but I figured a way to format it. I called them just to be clear on specifics. The girl told me to come with two copies of my play to the reading. Watch the play readings, then submit mine at the end for next week. Sounds wonderful.
I read through my play and timed it and it was about 9 minutes long. I thought I’d be fine. Only thing was I don’t have a printer. No problem, just stop by a Staples or Kinkos (now FedEX office.) Sure enough there was a Staples around the theatre. I wanted to conserve paper so I had two pages printed per sheet. You know, so it reads like a book. Like so…
I go the show and boy did the plays sucks. There was only one that I didn’t hate. The rest of them had no conflict, no stakes, and insufferable pauses. Granted it was reading so the actors didn’t know the scripts but the plays died none the less. I don’t know where this “under 10 minutes” thing went because they went through 5 or 6 in the whole two hours.
Finally, the plays all done. People dispersed to the bar and it once again became a social environment. I looked for the two emcees to whom I was to submit my script. I find one of them and he’s talking to someone, I wait patiently back. In conversation with the other guy, the emcee stops, mid-sentence and addresses me, “What?.”
Startled, I presented my script. “I brought this for next week. My name is Jack.”
“It is 10 pages?” he jumps to.
“Yea, less, it’s 8.”
“Why’d you format it like this. You see my gray hair? I can’t read this.”
“It was to save paper. I can email it to you.”
“Why do you have two copies? You just need one.”
“I called ahead, the girl told me to bring 2 copies.”
“Well you don’t need two copies. Just one.”
And then he turned by to the guy he was talking to and we were done. Fuck that place.