I’m finding out, in a big way, that spending 30 years “directing” children in a classroom is a lot different than trying to herd four adults across a theater stage as they recite their lines.
Since I wrote this particular play, I have imagined it all acted out in my mind dozens of times. That’s the good news. The bad news is that apparently not everyone can read my mind.
I’m smiling as I write this, because I know, for certain-sure, that everything will work our just fine in the end. The theater is a truly magical place, and all will be well. But between here and there, I’m fussing and fretting and wondering where on earth we’re going to find all the props we need, and how on earth we’re going to get a motorcycle up to the 2nd Story Playhouse anyway.
So right now I’m developing a very huge and healthy respect for anyone who has ever done this directing gig themselves.
Wowza! What a joyride!
