At the height of the lockdowns almost two years ago, when it was still so uncertain when I would ever be able to collaborate with my fellow creatives in a theatre again, I went a little mad. Not Lady Macbeth roaming the halls in my nightgown mad, but the creative madness you describe above. It’s not as though I’m ever free of it, but having the directed focus of another project on the horizon allows me to rest a little easier at night. When I know what I’m acting in, or directing, or hired to write next my creative energy has its proverbial outlet and sleep may come. But when that was all taken away I spent weeks filling journals and eventually a plastic storage bin of journals. I determined what I had to offer the world from isolation was to lead a renaissance of wit. Comedy had become about approval more than humor, altogether too divisive and predictable at the same time. It was less intelligent and more pandering. Where were the modern-day Oscar Wildes? The scintillating intellects with their rapier wits? I read a sentence about Mark Twain. “Mark Twain is an American humorist.” And I thought, “That’s it!” I’ll be an American humorist…locked in my home. I wanted to reach people first through my writing and then with my voice. Self-publishing on a website, parlayed into a podcast. Wit Soup. I secured all the socials under Wit Soup. I paid for my domain. I even developed a logo which filled another plastic storage bin with paper, markers, and a million different designs. Then I booked my next gig and dropped it all. Wit Soup sits in bins in my closet. Maybe I’ll be the next Erma Bombeck, or maybe Wit Soup was just “Another Wake You Up Song”. Only time will tell. But it got me through, and kept me on this side of crazy. Whatever side that is. And it gave me some of my favorite nights of drinking, where you’re drinking and writing and drinking and writing, and then it’s morning so you probably should sleep, so you doze off on the sofa, and when you wake up it’s still morning and there’s still more writing to do…so the logical thing to do is…drink! It’s the most like Tennessee Williams I ever feel. I haven’t had one of those nights into mornings in a while, I guess because I haven’t needed one. Wit Soup is in the closet, and I have projects on my plate. But one of those projects involves writing, so those nights into mornings are in my future. But I’m OK with that…because I know you will be awake to bounce ideas off of at 2AM. 🤣
Love it!
At the height of the lockdowns almost two years ago, when it was still so uncertain when I would ever be able to collaborate with my fellow creatives in a theatre again, I went a little mad. Not Lady Macbeth roaming the halls in my nightgown mad, but the creative madness you describe above. It’s not as though I’m ever free of it, but having the directed focus of another project on the horizon allows me to rest a little easier at night. When I know what I’m acting in, or directing, or hired to write next my creative energy has its proverbial outlet and sleep may come. But when that was all taken away I spent weeks filling journals and eventually a plastic storage bin of journals. I determined what I had to offer the world from isolation was to lead a renaissance of wit. Comedy had become about approval more than humor, altogether too divisive and predictable at the same time. It was less intelligent and more pandering. Where were the modern-day Oscar Wildes? The scintillating intellects with their rapier wits? I read a sentence about Mark Twain. “Mark Twain is an American humorist.” And I thought, “That’s it!” I’ll be an American humorist…locked in my home. I wanted to reach people first through my writing and then with my voice. Self-publishing on a website, parlayed into a podcast. Wit Soup. I secured all the socials under Wit Soup. I paid for my domain. I even developed a logo which filled another plastic storage bin with paper, markers, and a million different designs. Then I booked my next gig and dropped it all. Wit Soup sits in bins in my closet. Maybe I’ll be the next Erma Bombeck, or maybe Wit Soup was just “Another Wake You Up Song”. Only time will tell. But it got me through, and kept me on this side of crazy. Whatever side that is. And it gave me some of my favorite nights of drinking, where you’re drinking and writing and drinking and writing, and then it’s morning so you probably should sleep, so you doze off on the sofa, and when you wake up it’s still morning and there’s still more writing to do…so the logical thing to do is…drink! It’s the most like Tennessee Williams I ever feel. I haven’t had one of those nights into mornings in a while, I guess because I haven’t needed one. Wit Soup is in the closet, and I have projects on my plate. But one of those projects involves writing, so those nights into mornings are in my future. But I’m OK with that…because I know you will be awake to bounce ideas off of at 2AM. 🤣
Hi Mark, I loved it, you have a gift of writing keep doing it & sharing your words of wisdom .