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


February 7th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


Meet Hank. I found him when going through my Grandma’s old stuff, and instantly decided that his name was probably Hank, and that he was probably a secret lover of hers, so I couldn’t bear to let him be thrown away. And so, now he sits on my desk and watches me write. Technically it’s not cheating because he is most likely dead, and also made of paper.

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papa bear!

February 6th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


See our patriarch, Grandpa Bray, shoveling 26 inches of snow! Go Grandpa Go!

Also, a special mention is deserved by my Mom, who single-handedly TOOK THIS PICTURE AND THEN EMAILED IT TO ME WITH HER NEW PHONE ALL BY HERSELF.  Amazing. I think hell just froze over. Or is that Maryland?

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Original Works!

February 6th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


Hello it is I! Commercial!

What? You like plays? What? Do you know Original Works Online? Perhaps you should be-fan them on facebook here. 

The are an excellent west-coast based publishing and licensing house whom I’ve been working with since I finished Grad School. They published one of my first full-lengths which was a huge confidence booster. I like them. You will too! Also, the do FREE PLAY DAYS (during which, they select a play to be free.) Browse their catalogue, it’s pretty diverse and full and rad.

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grown-up hair

February 6th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


I think I am now a grown up? I suspect this because I can now afford to pay for my own haircuts, I actually listen to the person cutting my hair, I have accepted my hair and no longer try and fight it, and I haven’t dyed it blonde / orange / blue / burgendy / ‘the color of the night’ in YEARS. Welcome to adulthood, ms. brunstetter.

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February 6th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


This is why I do not try new things!

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February 5th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


While bored and jury dutying, I decided that what I REALLY needed most in my life, the answer to any and all philosophical dilemnas, was a pair of clogs. And so, I searched. I found Jan’s Ugglebo clogs? One of those sketchy, old-timey looking websites that makes you think it’s a scam run by some guy in his basement in queens. But, the clogs were rad, made-to-order in Sweden, select your own leather, reasonably priced. But you couldn’t even order on the site, you just fill out this request form thing with your phone number. And so, I did.

Dun dun dunnnn.

I forgot about it until yesterday, sure enough, I got a call from Jans himself. Fans, Jans is real, and he is very Swedish, and he is very nice. We had a long conversation about life in New York ‘I come to New York in the Seventies and I make lot of money at Bank! But then I did not like it and moved to North Carolina! And now I sell clogs!’

 After a long heart to heart in which Jans and I shared frustrations of city life, credit card information and our feelings, I ordered my clogs (bright blue leather.)

So I say to ye: order some clogs from Jans!! He is so nice and they’re real affordable / adorable. He even makes man and baby clogs. Well techincally he doesn’t make them, I think his friends in Sweden do. But still, in my mind, I am hoping he looks something like this:


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this just made my day

February 4th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


Brought to you by Evan Cabnet, or: the final boss of the internet. Find more here.

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February 4th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


I just wanted to be Beyonce for a minute and speak strictly to my ladies (hayyyyy).  I just have a few things I need to get off my chest, like how much I love old Leanne Rhimes songs and why does Midol make me feel like I’m on crack????? and I confess that I haven’t had a haircut in six months and when I was little I had a little friend up the street who had a little playhouse with ELECTRICITY and I was just really jealous because I did not have  this, but I DID have a pool in my backyard.

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February 4th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter



Good morning.

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travel angst

February 3rd, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


Yesterday, when filling out my juror questionaire, I had to write my ‘hobbies.’ (Who has time for hobbies???) This is always hard, as all I can ever think of is ‘you know, living my life’ and ‘thinking things’ and ‘doing stuff’ and then there’s also writing plays, and then I feel  like a one-dimensional person for not ALSO being into wildlife or pottery, so I usually add ‘ scrapbooking’ and ‘bike-riding’ and ‘travel.’

But: this idea of travel being a hobbie of Mine. Hmm. I do love going places once I get there. But everything before and after makes me nauseous. See the new few months: NEXT WEEK I’m going to San Fransisco and LA, and then a few weeks after, I’m going to London for a week. And I am already getting nervous feelings involving getting to and from the airport, $, the play things themselves that are happening while I’m there, $ again, missing working, feelings of guilt for missing work, etc. I try and defeat these nervous feelings with the excitement of going, and being there. But when I am somewhere else, on a vacation of sorts, it is always a constant battle for me, to supress angst with the Joy of Travel. This is hard. Unless you’re in Mexico, or the Catskills. Or so I’ve learned.

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