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

Go the Saints!

January 25th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter

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Yay, the cheerleaders, Yayyy!

Oh, and also, the football players. This year, I think I will make the conscious, adult decision to pay attention to the Superbowl, and maybe even get a little excited about it! After all, in the most basic of heart-warming ways, The nomadic Saints really do deserve this win. It would be God’s way of saying, sorry about that whole uh – hurricane thing. And so, I will don Black and Gold and cheer and yell and eat Nacho’s in support of them. Mainly, I’ll just be eating Nacho’s and not understanding what’s happening. Until then,

Sports Journalist

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elegance

January 25th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter

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I’ve read and seen a number of plays lately in which exposition is far from elegant. ie, ‘Bob, it’s so great to see you! It’s been four years since I’ve seen you, and that was before I lost my house to foreclosure! How are you handling your recent divorce? Wow, it sure is hot here in Central Florida.’

I of course exaggerate. This is just a pet peeve of mine and something I really try not to do, and cringe when I have to. But, I am realizing: if the play is really good and compelling and beautiful, some of this slightly sloppy exposition is completely excusable, because it’s necessary. You simply most get from A to B, and keep going.

Now, if you excuse me, I must return to my job with a corporate housing company where I’ve been working for 2.5 years.

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other people’s plays

January 24th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter

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A couple of times now, I’ve been a reader for a theater’s playwright applicants for writer’s group, for their theater, etc. It’s always a difficult thing, to read / ‘judge’ someone else’s play, especially when it is that of an emerging writer like yourself. Oftentimes if I don’t like the play, I realize it’s because it’s similiar to one of my own, and the very things I don’t like about are things I myself have done. This weird self-loathing. Or sometimes, a play is so amazing, any tinge of jealousy is banished and you just want to celebrate how amazing it is and tell everyone you know. And sometimes you feel ‘meh.’  Either way, I try to remind myself that the play I’m ready is another writer’s baby, and I should absolutely treat it so.

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ugh

January 24th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter

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While I enjoy staying up late, I just can’t do it anymore. Anything past 1 am and I rendered totally useless the next day, and if it’s the weekend, it means I’m wasting my only writing time, unless you call watching legally blonde and eating pineapple cake ‘not wasting.’ I’m mad at myself.

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what is this?????

January 24th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter

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another picture of things that I’m eating

January 24th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter

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a load of crock

January 23rd, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter

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Santa (or, to cynics: my parents) got me  this sweet crockpot for Christmas, and today, we take an inaugural journey with a classic American pot roast! I sort of followed the recipe? Or sort of combined like seven of them. Essentially, you cut up a bunch of stuff and just sort of stick it in there, and then dump some stuff on top of that, and then if you feel like it, put even more stuff in there, and then you let it do its thing, for hours, while you do productive things. They are brilliant devices, designed for busy Moms, or overwhelmed playwrights.

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‘what a dump’

January 22nd, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter

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I’m just remembering, and have the pictures to prove it: In college, I directed a production of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf. Why did I do this? I think it’s pretty much because my boyfriend at the time really wanted to play George? And so, rehearsals commenced in the only SLIGHTLY haunted Old Playmakers theater. And I of course had no idea what I was doing or how to direct a play, so, pretty much, after trying in vain to convey what I was thinking, to tranlsate my own understanding of the play, I pretty much just had the actors over to my apartment and had them watch the Elizabeth Taylor movie version and said, if you could just do – this – that would be great.

And that is why I’m a playwright.

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my thoughts on the Tablet

January 22nd, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter

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At this point we don’t really fully know what it is, but I want one. Oh no. I think I really really want one. The thought of being able to write on the train or ANYWHERE really excites and scares me. Speaking of Scared, I am scared, or rather, know, that I will loose / it break it / get robbed. And yet, my want persists. Is it my birthday yet?

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pillow talk

January 21st, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter

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Steve: I’ve been watching too many nature shows of chimps killing each other for no reason and it’s making me really sad.

Bekah: They just – kill each other?

Steve: Well they gang up on one of them, for no apparent reason, or because he’s got short legs or something, just because he’s an outcast, and then they all kill him.

(Pause.)

Bekah: Well maybe they have to kill him because they’re protecting their species? It’s not like conscious but they just know they have to kill him because if they don’t, he will have kids with shorter legs, and then they will have kids with even shorter legs, and before they know it, they won’t be able to run from danger. And then they won’t be able to survive. As a species.

(Pause.)

Steve: Well that was the argument the Nazi’s made.

(Pause.)

Bekah: Oh.

Posted in animals, history, hmmmmm | No Comments »

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