All Eyes on Me

I’ve mentioned before that I like attempting to do kind of a tricky thing in my writing— slant a character or circumstance to an audience to a certain problematic point of view, and then call to their attention how easy it was to fall into that unfair or inaccurate perspective. My hope is, not necessarily to shame or mock the viewer, but to encourage them to some self-reflection as to why they are vulnerable to seeing things in that flawed way, and maybe try to address it going forward. It’s a hard thing to pull off.

It’s been important to my work in two other places up to this point— Adonis, and Mrs. Hawking part IV: Gilded Cages. In Adonis, I want the viewer complicit in Aidan’s objectification, then make clear how it has hurt him, and have to challenge themselves to acknowledge the human tendency to reduce people to things. In Gilded Cages, I wanted the audience to like and sympathize with Reginald Hawking due to his charming, romance-novel-hero bearing, and then make them have to confront that we often want women to give such men a chance because we feel like they “deserve it”, but it doesn’t change the fact that his entire romantic relationship with Victoria violated her consent.

I’d like to attempt that same temptation to an unfair viewpoint, then point out the contradictory reality, with Veronica Dresden in Dream Machine episode 6. I’d love to have her come in and have the audience dislike her, stereotyping her as the nasty ex-wife being so, so hard on poor Ryan. But then point out that she spent years having to deal with him when he was not a good husband, father, or even person really, and that he’s not entitled to endless forgiveness from her. She has a RIGHT to her anger, and it’s unfair to cast her as the bad guy here. That can also force Ryan to confront his own responsibility and own more of what he needs to do going forward to make up for the person he used to be.

I think that could be some strong character stuff— if I can pull it off. This would be a later scene of episode 6, occurring after #2 - Sit Up and Beg and #1 - Nefarious Plan but before #10 - Come to Grovel. Leah won’t be in episode 6 too much— I like the idea that characters enter and recede from the spotlight from episode to episode —but I thought she might be the right person to engage with Veronica in this scene.



( Day #14 - Carrying Water )

October Review Challenge, #17 - "What’s your most romantic line?"

So I actually love romance. I love the dance of two people who are drawn to each other and tracing the path of how it breaks down reserve and obstacles to find their way together. I really enjoy writing it into a larger adventure, though I tend to not like pieces that are solely in the romance genre— I recently realized that it’s because I feel like in pure romance I don’t get to see the characters as people pursuing their own needs and goals outside of the relationship, and therefore have a harder time understanding why they fall for each other. But when it’s part of a story in another genre, I adore it.

I love when characters say romantic things to each other. Just the right line can hit you in the guts and take your breath away. They can be tricky to write— I mentioned I find the “picking of the words” part to be the hardest part of writing anything —but I think I’ve managed a few.

The most explicitly romantic piece I’ve ever written is probably Adonis. The genre is alternate history epic, but the relationship between Diana and Aidan is the heart of the story. A goal of mine for that story is that they are not excessively articulated, as both characters are going through things they don’t really know how to talk about it, so there’s honestly not a lot of individual lines that are particularly romantic out of context. It’s more the whole gestalt that makes the feeling, I’d say.

I also like writing romance that is... a little fucked up. I’m not sure why that is; probably I get a little transgressive thrill. People who probably shouldn’t be together. Unrequited loves. Things where the power dynamic might be off, like with Aidan and Diana. So I get a kick when I can make the audience’s guts twist because there’s something devastatingly romantic about a situation where things are messed up. I think there’s something compelling about Aidan, almost destroyed at the hands of powerful women just like Diana, terrified of being vulnerable to her, wanting her so badly he cannot help but lay himself open to her. But the foremost example I can think of this is the sad case of Colonel Reginald Prescott Hawking, completely in love with a woman who could never feel the same, and who in trying to love, he did the worst wrongs anyone could do to her.

I think there is something absolutely heartbreaking about what those two did to each other. They were friends once, but his falling in love with her was the beginning of the end, because she could never return it. And in this incompatibility, they caused each other irreparable harm. But it was important to me to structure their scenes in part IV: Gilded Cages together, where it explains how things happened between them, to feel romantic in order to make the true point— it didn’t matter how romantic their interactions were, because she did not and could never want that from him. So I really wanted the romance THERE.

He has a bunch of lines that hit it, I think. When Victoria doesn’t understand why Reginald is so willing to do whatever she needs, his answer is a gut punch: “My God, Victoria. Don’t you know?” And when he tries to assure her he’s there for her, I had him say “Never doubt me, Victoria. Please.” It was my attempt to evoke Hamlet’s poetry to Ophelia, “Doubt thou the stars are fire / Doubt thou the sun doth move, / Doubt all truth to be a liar, / But do not doubt my love.” But one of the absolute most devastating ones is actually in a supplemental piece, where they are together for the first time on their wedding night, which Victoria dreads without being able to say why. He promises her, with all the adoration in the world, “I’ll be gentle. I promise.” And proceeds to commit the gentlest rape in the world.

I guess I ought to mention something that is romantic in a less fraught way. I’d probably pick Arthur in his marriage proposal to Mary in Fallen Women. It’s been a long time in coming, but as much as he wants them to be together, he doesn’t know if it can fit into her life, and in powerful contrast to the Colonel, he is resolved to not allow that to impose on her life. Instead of trying to take charge and fix everything for her, he asks her to show him the way, promising, “Lead, and I’ll follow.” A solemn vow of low to go wherever she goes, and be what she needs, while being certain to obtain her consent. That may not always factor into the things I find romantic, but it can sure pack a hell of a wallop when it does.


Photo by Dan Fox

October Review Challenge, #6 - "What's a funny line you wrote?"

I have been preoccupied for years with the notion that I am way funny than people give me credit for. In recent time it's become an obsession. I've always written good jokes and amusing lines here and there, but I've tended to mostly write dramatic pieces that just needed leavening. But I've been interested in writing comedy much more lately, partially as a source of levity in pandemic times, and partially to prove to people that I am fucking funny, God damn it.

It's this that led me to my major Quarantimes project, Dream Machine— a sitcom written in screenplay form, read and performed over Zoom, loosely inspired by my repeated insistence that somebody should let me do my own version of 30 Rock. The whole point is that it's supposed to be funny, and though I can't do anything where there isn't some real character and meaning in it, and so I've been pouring all my effort into making them laugh-out-loud funny. It's been a refreshing change of pace, and has made for a new project I'm genuinely getting joy from. I'm also very close to having a finished performance draft of Gentlemen Never Tell, the Mrs. Hawking spinoff starring Nathaniel's older brother Justin, featuring one of his Wodehouse-style romantic adventures. It's also explicitly a comedy, and has the problem, now that I'm trying to edit it, of how every line is an attempt at humor and it makes me not want to cut. And that's beside all the dramatic pieces I've written that also having funny one-liners to lighten up the mood.

But if I had to pick one that's not only funny but discussible... I'd probably have to go with one from Mrs. Hawking IV: Gilded Cages, in the scene where Nathaniel is describing how he and Clara fell in love through letters when he was away in his year in the service, when he was stationed at Newcastle. This moment starts funny when Mary asks him how he knew Clara was the one for him, and his response is "When she broke things off with my brother." Implying that the moment she was free, he was certain they would end up together. Mary is impressed with his winning over Clara after that, and doing it from a distance in writing no less. So Nathaniel grins in a secret sort of way, and says in an understated tone, "Well. I write quite the letter."



I love this joke because of the levels to it. First the understatement of it amuses me, attributing their relationship purely to a little bit of epistolary flair. But I like how Nathaniel's comment could be taken multiple ways. Is he being euphemistic— subbing in his ability to "write letters" for some other thing he does well that made him an attractive romantic prospect? Or perhaps he is indeed referring to a skill at letter writing, which is amusing if you know that erotic letters were considered something of an art form in the Victorian period. Is he so good at composing that particular kind of missive that one can understand why a lady might be charmed? I kind of love both or either of these possibilities. Especially given that Nathaniel is a bit of a prude, embarrassed to talk about such matters directly. But the idea that the shy guy whose big brother loves to make him blush having a bit of a secret wild and sexy side. He just isn't as obvious about it as Justin is.

Historically the writing of subtext has been a challenge for me. Partially it was just struggling with the techniques of it— how you embed meaning without actually referring to it in words —and partially it came from the fear that even if I did manage to include it, the audience would miss it. I often failed in the direction of overwriting it for fear that it was too subtle, and not having any effect on the story at all.

In recent years, thanks to focusing on it with serious practice, I think I have improved. My tastes run much more lately to subtler storytelling, so I've tried to take that route with the things I write. I'm pleased to say I think my most recent major piece, Mrs. Hawking part IV: Gilded Cages, is the most layered narrative I've ever put together. It depends in large part on people who are on different wavelengths not realizing they're talking at cross purposes, who don't fully understand the implications of their actions, and who don't have the words or concepts to express themselves with complete accuracy. The fact that I managed to pull that off wouldn't have been possible if I hadn't grown in my ability to suggest things are happening that no party onstage is actually explicitly referring to.



The downside, though, is that very thing subtext made me afraid of all along: the audience missing it. Mostly I believe people grasped the ideas I was trying to go for in the piece— that Reginald's well-meaning overtures coexist with the fact that he doesn't understand consent or that he's behaving in a patriarchal manner. That young Victoria doesn't realize that she's acting out of white privilege, and Malaika doesn't see the dangers that creates for her in their relationship. But every now and then I've heard from somebody who didn't pick up on those things, and as a consequence they didn't follow aspects of the narrative. I've had a surprising number of people ask me, "Why was Mrs. Hawking so miserable with her husband when he was so nice?" I mean, I think it's partially that we have a problematic cultural tendency to pressure women into giving men a chance because they're "nice"— but also I think because we kept a lot of the harmful aspects of Reginald's behavior subtext as opposed to stating them explicitly, I think people missed it.

The story doesn't quite work, honestly, without the subtextual aspects. It doesn't make its point without them. But it's still a richer, more sophisticated piece to have these ideas woven in subtly, even at the cost of some of the audience missing them. I guess, if they're detectable by some and missed by others, that probably means I can finally be confident that I've done subtext right.

Blargh. This scene, which immediately follows Day #25 - "Act Tonight", is not working. The idea behind it is that Mrs. Hawking has come to sympathize, even identify, with this client Mrs. Khan (soon to be Mrs. Chaudhary) in the course of helping her, plus is in a self-reflective and melancholy mood due to thinking about the past. These are supposed to combine to make her more open and forthcoming than she usually is. However, the overwhelming consensus at the reading was that she was WAY TOO open and forthcoming to be in character, and after hearing that I agree. I need to find a way to get the information across here while pulling massively back to keep Mrs. Hawking believable, but I haven't undertaken that editing operation yet.

Blargh. I have five more of these to do and I think I'm out of Gilded Cages scenes I can post without excessive spoilers.

( Day #26 - How Did You Come to Do This? )

I am almost out of postable scenes from Gilded Cages. This might be the last one. Even though there were thirty-nine separate scene pieces, some of them were more "connective tissue" between moments, and others were pieces I don't want to show yet for fear of spoiling the ending. So I've only only a couple remaining, and I'm probably going to have to write a few more new things just to round out the thirty-one days.

I'm showing some of the early scenes of the case of Gilded Cages, which definitely need some clarifying work. It starts in medias res, and deciding exactly what bit of information should be parceled on when needs some fixing. Also, I need to make it super clear that the issue discussed here between the women is "men suck and marriage is awful" rather than anything like, say, the client's religion or other things. With Mrs. Hawking, the issue is ALWAYS "men suck and marriage is awful," but I don't want any confusion on that point. 😁

Also, I'm changing Mrs. Khan's name to Mrs. Chaudhary, on the advice of several readers.

( Day #24 - The Gang Case )

This scene follows immediately after Day #19 - "Rebellious Young Girls" as Elizabeth comes in. Though the true delineation of the "scene pieces" as I call them are when a new character enters or exits and changes the dynamic of what's going on, each one encapsulates a tiny arc that is begun and concluded with that change. I think every scene ought to have an arc, and the scene pieces within it a smaller one within that, which add up to the overall arc of the scene. I'll admit, my scene transitions are determined by practical means— I switch them only when the time of the interaction or the location changes —but it maintains a sense of domino-like progress throughout the entire play.

( Day #20 - Learning the Hard Way )

Governor Gareth Stanton— Mrs. Hawking's father —is a bit of a bugaboo in our story. We know she hates him, and in her opinion he was an awful man. We finally get to meet him in part 4, and see where this rage toward him came from.

( Day #17 - Best Solution )

I've been at GenCon this week, promoting on our release of Susurrus: Season of Tides for my job at Evil Overlord Games. So I've been behind on releases scenes. But here's another from Gilded Cages while I endeavor to catch up.

As a side note, I recently realized that Priyanka is a Hindu extracted name, not one an Indian Muslim would be likely to have. So I'm going to have to change it for accuracy's sake, but I haven't decided what to go with yet.

( Day #15 - A Small Alliance )

This is, to me, one of the most important scenes in Mrs. Hawking part 4. Drama has to move fast, so every moment has to pull double or triple duty if possible, advancing the plot and teaching you as much about the characters as you can pack in there. I knew I could only fit four scenes in the past, and I had to establish everything you needed to know about Reginald Hawking— who he was, what he wanted, how he came to marry Victoria, and what all was wrong with it. That's a lot to pack in, especially since I basically had to have him meet her in one scene, fall for her in a second, and BE DAMN IN LOVE WITH HER in a third. That's all I got to make you believe it.

This is the second of those scenes. It needs cleaning up, but I think I'm on to something here. A goal of mine in all their interactions is to make them simultaneously endearing and understandable AS WELL as kind of fucked up if you think too hard about it. I want you sympathizing with Reginald, even as you think the whole thing is wrong. A tricky thing. I think it's in the neighborhood.

( Day #12 - Vivat Victoria )