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


May 25th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


And here I am, trying to write ‘good things,’ when really all I need to do is embrace Canine Comedy. Large dogs / small cars: clearly hillarious.

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fairly sad

May 24th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


Say: you know how when you get a text / call your phone lights up a little bit? Well now, I’ve noticed, when I see white or a weird light or shift in light out of the corner of my eye, I instantly turn and look, almost compulsively – as if the ENTIRE WORLD is a Bekah’s phone, and I am waiting for it to do something.


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lucky me!

May 24th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


One of the 8 zillion reasons that I love Ars Nova, sides their generosity / support, is their sweet sweet penthouse. I’m workshopping Be a Good Little Widow this week and get to sit here and write and pretend like I live in Midtown and have a few small dogs and order in Indian and have pigtails and write plays with legitimate, not skimmed over or forced, emotional depth (TRYING.) Please stay tuned for Widow, a funeral, coming soon!

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a complaint

May 23rd, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


Allow me to be a shallow 12 year old for like a MINUTE. The thing that annoys me sometimes, or a lot, about ‘me,’ or my physical person, is that I’m a tall person with the body of a short person and thus do not get the perks of either. I am not tall and lean and elegant, nor am I short and cute head patt-able. Maybe one day I will get over this, as there are clearly more important thinks to care about, but chances are, I won’t. When I’m old, I’ll most likely be tripping girls with my cane. (You know, the hot ones.)

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May 22nd, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


In my nearly 3 years of blogging I’m sure something else has been ‘nice’ before. Oh well. BUT!

As you might imagine, there are tons of rehearsal studios in Manhattan, where rooms are rented by the hour,walls are paper thin, and tap-dancing 5 year olds practice below grad students running Shakespeare, above aged broadway stars rehearsing for a vanity reading. And as you might guess, some of these places are nicer than others some are run by rats and angry ex-actors, with dirty windows and floors. But today, for my first williamstown fellowship meeting, I was very pleasantly surprised by Ripley Greer studios! It is a HAPPY place with a cafe! Sure, there’s weird clusters of babies and their stage moms, and lines of stressed out girls in black halter dresses, but I must say, still very pleasant.

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I confess

May 21st, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


Sometimes when I am particularly lost / confused / overwhelmed I listen to some or a lot of some Beach boys, and then suddenly, everything is fine? (Everything is fine.)

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May 21st, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


The other day, I had a delightful lunch with Marilyn like IN THE MIDDLE OF A WEEKDAY and decided that it was totally fine for me to have beer with said lunch? It was. Because: I was fixed this guy above, which is half hoegaarden and half Orange Juice. Drink one with your mushroom frittata, and you pretty much feel like you can do ANYTHING, including but not limited to saving the world, a funny dance, or playwriting.

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May 20th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


2010 thusfar seems to be my playwright-year to try and give voice to the dead….which definitely gives me a great sense of purpose but is honestly a bit depressing. Most recently, I’ve been working on Rotten, which is loosely based on the suicide of the lovely Phoebe Prince (above) who I of course never knew, but whose story I became obsessed with. Phoebe sadly killed herself last fall after being tormented by her high school classmates,  verbally and on facebook. I wrote it in true Bekah form, sort of frantically, for a reading of it at the women’s project, TODAY. We shall see how it goes. It was hard to dredge through the murky and powerful impulses behind taking one’s own life, as well as those behind cruelty. To lighten things up a bit, there are of course odd recreations of the single ladies dance, some beach boys, and some skittles. I went back through some of my EVEN MORE DEPRESSING poetry journals from high school, to sort of take myself back to that place. People, it was not fun. But: everything you feel then is that feeling, times 10. Joy, rejection, wantiness. But what truly brings a person to suicide? I may not have figured this out, but I am absolutely going to try.

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May 19th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


Whoooaaaaa you guys….as per Jason (Mr. Blaine Barbee)’s suggestion, I am blogging about a picture of Jason reading my blog. Next I will blog about Jason reading this blog and then the universe will explode, or, ‘2012.’

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what I’d rather be doing

May 19th, 2010 by Bekah Brunstetter


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