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


November 5th, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter


Unfortunately, amidst self-imposed deadlines and beaucoup de new projects needing astartin – my roommate ( Asian Girl Dan ), received the entire set of Sex and the City DVDS for her birthday. And by entire, I do mean every stinking one of them. I can’t help it. I really, really can’t.

And neither can you.

Posted in love, the writing of drama plays, trying too hard, vices | No Comments »

child-rearing via iphoto

November 4th, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter


I have discovered the key to entertaining these things they are calling ‘children.’ See, children like: shiny things, things that have to do with themselves, things that make them laugh, things they can control, and things that make noise.

I.e., i photo. Babysitters, hearken: train your wards in the art iphoto (most kids are mac savy these days anyways; it’s weird. It’s very, very weird.) and let them go on to ‘town.’ Seriously, hours. And then also, hours. And then – bedtime.

Also, okay, fine – it is very cute.

Also – it is not tv.




Posted in life, working | No Comments »

I cuddled my coat

November 4th, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter


I wanted to see how it felt to hold me.

Posted in love, whining | No Comments »

a thorough report

November 2nd, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter

p1010046.JPG And also 


You don’t need me to tell you that Halloween, as an evening, as an event, definitely shifts as you get older. For one, this thing called ‘booze’ is introduced and this thing called ‘bedtime’ goes to the wayside. But as I am no longer elligible for drunken debaucherous collegeoween, involving unmentionables, falling face first in the ‘Quad’ and stumblethons – and have moved onto youngadultsortofgrownupbuticanbarelypaymyrentandmyhouselookslikeadormandsmellslikeassoween – I found that there are two possible approaches to this event, in terms of one’s garb, and mental perspective on the whole shebang.

One can take the it as excuse to wear a dress one would never have a reason to wear, despite this occasion, and tell yourself/others you are something specific: but really – you are just wearing the dress – as I did, bow dress and all, as a ‘Present.’ To; From.

OR: you can go a la Stella and Elizabeth, my roommates: and say, <em>I  am normally cute as all hell, pretty much always, but for halloween, I want to be fat and gross. I want to be a fat, fat manperson. I want to let it all hang out.</em>Which they did. So much respect for them, fans. Seriously, they are so stinking cool, and I am lucky.  If you see them on the street, tip your hat.

Stella and Eliz decided to go as Dan and Roseanne, the loveable, chubby low income stars of midday tv. Granted, Stella (Korean by descent, or so she ‘says’ -) decided she wanted to curl her hair and wear make up, rendering her ‘Asian Girl Dan.’ They were a fine pair. A full pictoral report: firstly, readying occured:


Elizabeth poofed of her hair and stuffed of her old lady pants with firm towel wads (which actually made quite an impressive bootay), while Stella donned sweat pants, yelled at Rosanne to make her a sandwich, curled of her hair, and  tried (to no avail) to suppress her own  stunning prettiness:


I – uh – I put a dress on and put a bow in my hair, and emerged a sort of giant toddlerperson, the Prize indeed for Stella and Elizabeth’s innovations.


And they – well – they looked – amazing. Disturbing, accurate.



Of course, costumes were later thrown to the wayside. Butt and belly towels proved stuffy and hot; I couldn’t sit/stand/be in my presentdress, Elizabeth’s giant tittythings, held together by a large yellow 42DD bra (which later acted as a fine hat) – became irksome, and gradually, layers of our other personages were removed, and we returned home – ourselves – but not until we discovered that doing Apathetic Subway Gymnastics in 34% of your halloween costume – at any age – is pretty great. We were like little girls, but drunker.



But seriously – Dad – we were home by 12.  I got to work the next morning 10 minutes early, with time to pick up an egg and cheese toastathon to boot.

See?  I am totally growing up, as we all are, as we all should be.

Posted in generally, holidays, i am scared, life | No Comments »


November 2nd, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter


Fans, it seems like my fate may lay solely in the hands of my play Green, about a soldier just returned from Iraq whose gun and cigarette happen to talk to him. This play is three years old, and is just starting to use its words and ride bikes.


When Clint returns from Iraq to his strangely liberal bible belt college community, Alex, his Bush-trash talking best friend, and Rhea, Alex’s confused and beautiful girlfriend await him with baited breath. Clint wants to settle back down into normal life, but his memories of his experiences at war make this adjustment harder for him than he ever anticipated.  Green is a fresh look at the high price of service, using magical realism and an amorous anthropomorphized fire-arm.

Something like that.

Lil’ Green has had quite the life: produced (as our first production ever) by WMC in 2004 – read in NYU’s HotINK festival of New Plays 2007 – finalist for the Tennesee Williams New Orleans Literary Festival 2007 – semi – finalist for ONeill Playwright’s conference 2007 –  National Finalist, Kennedy Center American College Theater Festival 2007 – and now the Kendeda thing, through Atlanta’s Alliance theater – with a reading presented in conjuction with SPF and Fox Theatricals.

What I need to remember about this play is that I wasn’t thinking when I wrote it. That shows, yes, for sure – lots of things in it sort of lack poor planning, but: I had no agenda. I was just having fun and wrestling with something that confused/intrigued me. I think this is the correct way to enter a first draft, with no calculation. Maybe?

The agency I have been a-courtin for sometime is trying to find  the ‘money project’ that might come from these stubby fingers – something I muster up in down time, some dramaplay fed by cheap white wine, white girl angst and a delightful, whimsical perspective on humanity.

It might be Green. It wasn’t You may Go Now, it wasn’t Walls – maybe – I hope – please – it will be this. The guy who’s directing a reading of it through the Alliance Theater Kendeda reading series – Rajendra Maharaj – an amazing director who’s working at the Goodman  – is represented by this Agency, and is going to get them in the door to see it. Le Yay! I feel like pants need to be wowed until they are off.

People, I feel pressure. The good kind that makes impromptu birthday cakes happen in the span of two hours; the kind that makes your heart race and your product good.

I feel this is my chance to blow it, or not blow it. Over the next week, I will be squeezing writey time between work and babysitting to re-enter this story, find the humanity, make it fresh. Perhaps the gun and the cigarette will make out. Perhaps someone will monologue about oil prices, perhaps I will channel three years ago, and the things I then felt. I think it’s actually a story about comfort, and feeling comfortable in ignorance – I think it’s about home?  We shall see.

In conclusion, I have decided that everything is important – nothing is no big deal.

Posted in horn tooting, the writing of drama plays, theater, tout, trying too hard | No Comments »

she was murdered to death

November 1st, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter


Due to my ‘morning commute,’ which I now have, like a Real Person, I have  taken to reading the free am paper, Metro. It gives you a basic rundown of how awful the world is, with pictures and everything.

This rundown contains many disturbing lifenuggets that will be wedged into your brain for the rest of the day – and perhaps your life. Metro also contains things that educate you on What People are Talking about, so that you can feel Smart.

So. fyi,  A real estate woman was bludgoned to death in her Upper West Side apartment. No one knows how, or why. A girl in Pheonix left her 1 year old son in her car for 7 hours while she worked her shift at Hooters, and was shocked to find him dead when she returned. And finally, a substitute teacher in some place like Florida or somewhere like it was arraigned for throwing a text book at a student. The book actually missed the student at which he was aiming – and smacked another student in the back of the head, like take that, the student.

Just so you know, all of things happened, or are happening. Just so you know.

Posted in generally, i am scared, life | No Comments »

Next Entries »

Bekah's Info



Recent Posts