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


March 18th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter


The Cake is currently backpacking around America like a dang college drop out.  It’s currently in rehearsal in Fayetteville, NC,  Sarasota, Florida and Lake Dillon, Colorado.  I would like to please draw attention to Colorado’s phenomenal poster:



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I am Guilty Of

March 14th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

There’s a thing I do, as a contemporary robot person with robot computer phone brain and human heart, that I would like to stop doing. And so, like most things that I don’t enjoy about myself, I’ll lay it here, in hopes of embarrassing myself into Change.  Here it is: I make moral judgements on News Things before I’ve fully read about them. (It’s also a thing that we maybe all do, that maybe we should all stop doing.) I make these judgements quickly, based on a headline or a skim of an article that I cram into a tiny section of unoccupied time,  so I can participate in conversations and outrage and jokes,  so that I don’t feel left out, or alone. But WHAT IF INSTEAD, I waited until I’d thoroughly read up on the Thing,  before making my judgements, adding my commentary? Would I spend more time reading and informing myself, less time commenting? Isn’t my being informed on whatever the thing is more important that whatever commentary I might add which, especially if I’m not informed, is most likely not different from everyone else’s? And DID I JUST FIX THE WORLD?


Posted in a lot, arrogant art things, awesome, generally, hmmmmm, how interesting, i am a grown up, the whole world, words, worrying | No Comments »

I don’t know why or when

February 24th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I found this picture amongst my things, and I’m not totally sure Why or When it was:

But given my tanned legs / popped hip, I think I can surmise that it was taken at Weight Loss Camp, ie that one Summer that I wore Confidence around like a bikini (and a bikini, I also wore an actual bikini /  for gruesome details please see my play  Fat Kids on Fire) but most importantly, I need to know WHERE AND HOW AND WHEN I PROCURED SILK BOXERS WITH FRUIT ALL OVER THEM,

And if I was in fact wearing them at Fat Camp, WAS the irony of the fact that I was wearing shorts with food on them lost on me? PLEASE LET IT NOT HAVE BEEN LOST ON ME.

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give none trucks

February 7th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

The scene: an olderish, corporate-y guy and I stand pissy in the LA rain outside an Enterprise rent-a-car. We both need rentals because our Cars are in the shop, mine because my Car is having trouble being Phone, and what good to me is Car if it is not also Phone?!

Kind Enterprise Guy who is very much just trying to get through his Day, with a brightness covering a deep shame: Okay, so! Unfortunately, all we have right now is Minivans.

Corporate guy and I exchange a quick, telepathic look, communicating one thing: DISPROPORTIONATE HORROR AND DISGUST.

Me: Are you sure you don’t have anything else?

Enterprise Guy: I’m sorry, no —

Me: I mean, anything, do you have like a truck?

Enterprise Guy: No —

Me: A bike? Some rollerbades? A large banana?

Enterprise Guy: No. I’m sorry.

Me: Because I would rather drive a large banana than that Van.

Enterprise Guy: we really, um. Don’t have anything else.

The Corporate Guy and I both release sighs so big, the Enterprise Guy has to take two small steps back. 

Me: Okay, then. Thank you, but I’ll just walk to Santa Monica. And when my feet get tired, I’ll just walk on my hands until my hands become feet. I WILL LITERALLY DO ANYTHING TO NOT DRIVE THAT MINIVAN.

Corporate Guy: WHAT SHE SAID.

Corporate Guy and I set off on foot. 

Corporate Guy: Are we ridic-



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Why I’m Tired

February 2nd, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I hate it when people are like, I’m so busy and tired, here’s why I’m so busy and tired, and yet, I feel compelled to document the absurdity that was January. And so I’ve gathered these facts, for my own amusement, and maybe yours:

January 4th, my last This is Us episode started pre-production.

Jan 6th, The Cake started rehearsal in NYC.

January 10th-11th, the This is Us writers went to Vegas where I ate all of the tequila and the hotel moaned all night like it was crying, preventing any sort of sleep.

January 12th, I (with consistent help from Morrison, who managed to turn it into a weird game) started shooting myself up with hormones twice a day, in hopes of harvesting some eggs / making us some embryos at the end of the month.

January 15th my episode started filming. I gave myself shots each morning and night, worked 12 hour days, grew increasingly tired and perhaps emotional, but perhaps maybe it’s normal to sob when you pass teachers protesting in the rain? I stole naps when I could. I tried to focus. I humbly ate from whatever trough of mashed potatoes was provided between scenes.

January 21st my episode wrapped.

January 22-27 I spent each day at the doctor, getting bloodwork and ‘wandwork,’ if you will, increasing hormone dosages, crying at fingernails, drinking whole grain goldfish crackers like vitamin water.

January 28th I went under, eggs came out (TO GREAT SUCCESS / MORE ON THAT LATER.)

Jan 29th I flew to NYC with IV tape gum still pulling at my arm hairs to check in with The Cake, watched three days of run-throughs, gave notes,  continued to try and understand and communicate my play, saw some shows, saw some favorite people, ate meatloaf alone, had some meetings about some potentially very exciting new things. Last night, I got to the airport, found an empty outlet, dropped my things, collapsed onto a weird stool and just sat there, and realized, that I was exhausted.

And just for a moment I wondered, Why?


And then I realized that I was so tired because my dreams are coming true, sort of slowly and immediately at the same time.  And then I realized that when dreams come true, it’s exhausting. And then I decided: if you’re not careful, you’ll actually  miss your own dreams coming true. You’ll confuse them with fatigue. Then I decided to forever try and associate Tired with dreams coming true. Except of course when I am actually, really just tired, in which case, I will just GO TO SLEEP. GNIGHT, SEE YOU IN MARCH

Posted in a lot, babies, hmmmmm, how interesting, i am a grown up, i am lucky, lies, life, love, MAWWAGE., the future, the making of babies, the writing of drama plays, theater, things | No Comments »


January 25th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

Me: I know that the way I’m thinking about this is Crazy —

Therapist: Let’s not call it ‘Crazy.’ Let’s call it…..’Consistent with your Patterns.’


Therapist:…which are your Patterns.

Me: But are my Patterns weird? I mean, are they normal?

Therapist: ….They are your Patterns.

Me: Now I’m worried about my patterns and feeling guilty for having them. Wait, am I doing the Patterns right now?

Therapist: Yep.


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All of it

January 15th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I would like to document this Look that I’ve been curating since I was wee enough to pull off purple pants:

It’s sort of a winning, curious combination of questions, like: Is she being cute, TRYING really hard to BE cute so as to attract attention she claims she does not want, or is she earnestly presenting kindness so as to make others at ease while behind her eyes curating the darkest of thoughts, OR does she just have to pee? A: IT’S ALL OF IT


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December 31st, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

Once again, I choose not to limit my year in review to a mere nine pictures, because I mean, there were just too many Cakes. Honestly even the happiest moments of this year feel slightly tinged with sadness, but scrolling through, I was happy to see / remember that I managed quality time with ALL of my favorite women, saw 4 of the 10 (I think 10?) of the year’s productions of the Cake, went to Hawaii for the first time, and was endlessly, continuously amused by my husband. Not pictured are other accomplishments like ‘actually started flossing regularly sort of’ and ‘purchased a kitchen mandolin’ and ‘started writing things down in a single notebook’ and ‘opened airline credit card to obtain travel points only to discover that Airline does not offer direct flights between New York and LA which is literally the only reason why I opened the freaking card.’

Went to the Ovation Awards with Miss Debra Jo Rupp who WON, La Jolla Playhouse Cake production, got some bro time in NYC / workshopped my TBTB play, Highlands with Blaine and Carrie, KAUAI with Morrison, Chicago Cake with Mack, went to visit E in the mountains:

MTC announced OFF BROADWAY CAKE!, Morrison unearthed this incredible headshot, I made a bitmoji, TULUM WITH ELIZABETH, Gracie awards with This is Us writer Women, Elli’s wedding!, Alley Theater/ Houston Cake, a visit from Tim:

We revamped our back yard, Tim got married, MORRISON DONNED A GOLD FACE MASK, Emmys, Geffen Cake / LA remount, got an alumni award from UNC, celebrated 2 years marriage, desperately dressed up for Halloween for three trick or treaters, HOSTED A DREAM THANKSGIVING FOR DREAM FAMILY.


Posted in a lot, horn tooting, how interesting, i am lucky, life, love, MAWWAGE., things that I Have, tout, YAY | No Comments »


December 30th, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

To whoever thought to invent number shaped cookie cutters: CONGRATULATIONS AND WELCOME INTO MY WILL, IF NOT MY LIFE’S WORK, IF NOT MY LEGACY. You were probably a 19th century Grandma who one morning bent metal into a 2, and you are probably long gone, but still, I would just really like to shake your hand, if not high five you, if that was a thing Then.

Posted in a lot, food, generally, ha, holidays, how interesting, i am a grown up, i am lucky, procrastibaking, YAY | No Comments »

it’s always right there

December 18th, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

I’ve escaped to Idyllwild, CA for a few days to finally figure out my $&%^#(@* EXPLETIVE EXPLETIVE latest play that I can’t seem to crack. Play after Play, it really only takes a two hour drive and a few forced conversations with sweet old women who work in stores that sell bedazzled rabbit belt buckles, and maybe an aribtrary purchase of a blanket scarf to hide / live in — and suddenly, my brain is a bit more clear, and suddenly the profound playwriting thoughts come. Sure, once I’m back at home I realize they weren’t so much ‘profound thoughts’  as they were, say, ‘thoughts,’ but it always feels good to feel and share them. And so, humor me. Today I’m thinking about how, whenever I can’t figure out a character or a scene or plot point — THE ANSWER IS ALWAYS, ALWAYS the truth. It’s never something funnier, more exciting, more unexpected — it’s just always the truth. And my favorite thing about the truth is that it’s always there. OKAY, BACK TO SCARF HOME.

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