bekah brunstetter
Bekah Brunstetter I care deeply. About a lot of things. Like really, really deep. Ow
playwright in brooklyn, NY

baby’s first high fashion moment

April 28th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

MOVE OVER BEYONCE

I HAVE A PURSE THAT MATCHES MY NECKLACE

THE NECKLACE ALSO MATCHES THE PURSE

IT WORKS IN BOTH DIRECTIONS

Posted in a lot, things that I Have, trying too hard, what I'm wearing | No Comments »

I’M COMIN HOME

April 25th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

My Mom got Morrison and I a subscription to Our State, North Carolina’s official magazine, which is her very subtle way of shouting at us to move there. It’s full of pictures and articles about all of the awesome things happening there, or as Morrison lovingly calls it, ‘Propaganda.’   While it is inconceivable, really, for us to do our work in NC, it’s still fun to fantasize about, which is, of course, what it is:  a fantasy. People who actually live in NC go about their lives with work and stress and do not spend all of their time in whimsical sandwich shops or making three bean salads or exploring caves. But still, the magazine is very effective. I know I was just there a week ago, but how soon is too soon for another casual trip home perhaps for a CHEERWINE FESTIVAL?

Posted in I write for television?, YAY, a lot, life, where i want to live | No Comments »

dead mall

April 24th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Like most kids who grow up in the suburbs, when I was a kid,  I fetishized the mall, like just so deeply and badly needed to get a ride there so I could get my cartilage pierced at Claires or eat a cookie the size of my face or just walk through racks of low-rise pants that didn’t fit me. It’s not my favorite thing about myself, but I am somehow calmed by rows and shelves of Things, organized neatly by color and size. Since I fixated on Malls so much when I was young, I am really disturbed by the fact that they are now dying, so much so that there is now a term for the abandoned or nearly abandoned spaces, ‘dead mall.’ There’s even a term for the abandoned large hub of the mall, the JCPenney’s or Dillards or Sears: that gaping pit emptiness is called a ‘ghostbox.’ There needs to be a word for what I’m feeling — this sense that I am inside of slowly changing world — a world that is moving so fast I barely notice the changes — but every now and then, when I pause, I glimpse the change and it makes my skin buzz and my stomach sink. What is this feeling? Futuresense? Changefeel? DEADMALL?

Posted in a lot, hmmmmm, how interesting, memories, tout, trying too hard, words | No Comments »

in complete madness and in health

April 22nd, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Six months married today, so yeah, I can officially say that I know everything. Mostly I’ve been struck by the values of patience, compromise, and listening. But even more mostly, I am blown away basically every day by Morrison’s ability to handle my madness when I overload myself and short circuit, how he can not only calm me down but also, how quickly he can get me  (us) to the place of laughing at the absurdity of whatever the situation.  If it’s not funny at its core,  WHY EVEN LIVE IT AT ALL?

Posted in DRESSES!!!!!!!!!!!!, MAWWAGE., a lot, boys, generally, how interesting, i am a grown up, love | No Comments »

heat, brought

April 21st, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Last night, our short film Again had its first screening at the Tribeca Film Festival, in an evening with five other beautiful shorts.  They treat you GOOD. A representative to usher you around / make you feel important, a theater with reclining leather seats, a big piece of paper with words on it to stand in front of. Of all of the pleasures and joys, the most greatest was watching Morrison bring the heat as if he were born to do it, on the red carpet,

and that big ol’ fancy screen.

Posted in MAWWAGE., YAY, a lot, boys, i am lucky, le film, love | No Comments »

STRIKE! STRIKE! STRIKE!

April 20th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

For the first time in my adult working life, I just voted to strike. Sometimes I forget that I’m in a guild, as I don’t feel like a laborer. Writers’ work happens mostly in our minds, but we still need a guild to protect us from tomfoolery, like, say, the fact that tv and film producers’ income has DOUBLED in the last eight years, while writer’s income has decreased by 30 percent. Our pension is suffering, we’re working for less money, and we’re expected to do it with gratitude that we are working at all. The problem with this is that writers are dreamers by nature, which is super easy to take advantage of. I’m still sort of shocked that I get paid at all to write, but I have to put that aside and stand up for fair pay — especially given the INSANE amount of money that is being made off of what we write.  And so, STRIKE! I’m choosing to hope that this is just a bargaining tool for the negotiators, but either way — see you on the picket lines, or back in the writer’s room with what we deserve (SNACKS) (AND HEALTHCARE)

Posted in I hate money, LA angst, YAY, a lot, factual smarts, generally, how interesting, i am a grown up, optimism | No Comments »

how to drink a unicorn

April 19th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Today, on AMERICA YOU RIDICULOUS BEAST: for a limited time, at limited locations, Starbucks is now serving UNICORN FRAPPUCINOS.

They describe it as  ”made with a sweet dusting of pink powder, blended into a crème Frappuccino with mango syrup and layered with a pleasantly sour blue drizzle. It is finished with vanilla whipped cream and a sprinkle of sweet pink and sour blue powder topping.” A part of me is like,  this is everything that is wrong with the entire world. And then of course the other part of me takes THAT part of me / turns it into whimsical crystalized sugar / shoves it up my nose / starts jogging through the night to Canada to get in line for a ‘FLAVOR-CHANGING’ UNICORN THAT YOU CAN DRINK.

Posted in ....ew, YAY, a lot, hmmmmm, worrying | No Comments »

blOG

April 17th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Oh, did you think I was done with niece pictures? NOPE. Meeting wee Olivia Grace, or OG as her parents call her, was so incredible and moving that it perhaps could merit its own blOG. The absolute best part of was having proud Dad / big brother Pete hand her off to me with such tenderness and help me understand how to hold her as my instincts are to handle a child like a discount bag of rice that is really important for some reason, like if you drop it, your life will change forever, in a bad way. After I fumbled, he adjusted her –

Then medium bro Dan joined. He expresses feelings with the fervor and regularity of a wise old tree, which is to say, only occasionally. But OG melted him instantly, at LEAST 13%. SEE THE TINIEST OF SMILE THAT IS THERE?

I then got to just stare at her forever. I think I have a new favorite show.

EMMY FOR BEST SHOW THAT’S JUST WATCHING A BABY BE A BABY GOES TO:

Posted in YAY, a lot, awesome, babies, boys, brothers, family, i am lucky, women, words | No Comments »

the rewrite

April 15th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

I’m in the middle of re-working a movie I wrote a few years ago. Rewriting pulls out the lose threads of my brain and makes everything, my Face, my Self, the World, feel unstable and wrong. WERE I TO SELECT AN IMAGE, IT IN FACT LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE THIS:

Imagine each piece of yarn is either a character or moment or my own self-loathing and doubt or a TIGHT FRENCH BRAID OF ALL OF IT. The goal, of course, after a certain amount of wading through and tripping over and choking on the mess, is this:

And then naturally, this.

Posted in YAY, a lot, silly, sucking, tout, trying too hard, whining, words | No Comments »

scriptpiphanies

April 13th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

I would just like to formally apologize to every actor who came to callbacks for The Cake last night for how much I was frantically writing during every read. If I were you, I would of course assume that I was making a long list of everything that was annoying about my body and voice and just me as a human, in general. But actually,  when a playwright sits in on auditions for their play, suddenly all of the emotional holes in the scenes become clear, and the playwright must frantically write these holes downs along with any ideas re: how to fix them before they escape. Unfortunately sometimes this must happen while an actor is beautifully emoting. Basically La La Land is a documentary, and sometimes, I AM THE VILLAIN IN THE ROOM I’M SORRY.

Posted in a lot, the writing of drama plays, theater, things, tout, trying too hard, words, working | No Comments »

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