I attended my first rehearsal of Blue last night. The first act is entirely blocked and they will be moving to the second act starting next week. I watched an entire run-through of the act and although it’s very raw and the actors are just learning their lines and blocking, there were definite moments where the writer in me left the room and I became an audience member.

It’s such a strange feeling to be sitting in rehearsals and think back to when I first began writing this play five years ago. I was in the basement of my house, the year was 2003, the month was February and it was one of those ugly, cold, Canada winters where even the most optimistic person can’t help but feel a bit out of sorts. What made it even more oppressive at the time was the 4 months it took to finish the first draft of Blue. I should add that I’m one of those crazy writers who write long hand in their first draft. I love the pen in hand to paper. I can’t think on a computer. I’m not sure where Blue came from, but the play sort of took on a life of its own and the characters started writing it for me. If you have great characters, they’ll create the plot, they’ll create the drama. If your characters are one dimensional, boring – your writing is going to suck and worse yet, you’ll suffer for it. I’ve been there, many, many times and yet I keep coming back – pen in hand, blank paper before me. Why? Am I a glutton for punishment…maybe. Or maybe it’s just the slow joy of seeing your baby grow up. I have no kids – but every script I have the privilege of finishing, is like one of my own.