You’re so lucky Zo, most of the time when I take dictation from the Universe, all I get is dead silence or something like “;(&@;$%%^&@;*)#>>>>>>…$…!”; Though on those rare days when the signal is good, what comes through sounds a bit like “Maybe you should have a muffin”.
Nonetheless, opportunities for creative uncertainty are legion in the theatre, and that is indeed part of the fun. But it’s also a problem.
Stage dialogue is necessarily a very dense form; any one line or speech has a LOT of work to do on many different levels – at least if the author aspires to anything more than your run of the mill romantic comedy, kitchen sink drama, street rant or pulitzer-prize-winning middlebrow porn where a passing reference to chaos theory or Picasso passes for "ideas". (To me anything that cheaply tries to push our hormonal buttons is porn, so that means Larry Flint, George Bush, Mel Gibson, Madison Avenue, God, Barbara Streisand, Hummer, Nutrasweet, Walmart and Disney are all pornographers in my book; as am I, occasionally)
In order to do such heavy lifting a line can be informed by: a word culled from a chat room; the inflections of my butcher’s speech; a character’s complex, mysterious motivations; the desire to underline a coup-de-theatre; the availability of a prop or the rights to a piece of music; my brother’s death; a stumbled-upon newspaper piece on Baboon culture; two lines in the AI entry of the MIT encyclopedia of cognitive science; an actor’s tone of voice; an audience members’ indigestion; the angle and color of a shaft of light; a noisy candy wrapper and, yes, that muffin the universe ordered for breakfast.
In short, I have enough serendipity informing my work, thank you very much. I’d kill for a little order.
Nowadays, most (though not all) creative writers who over-rely on "inspiration" (whether the source is God or Cosmic Strings or the leather-clad muse at Kinko’s) end up stringing together personalized versions of the cliché memes that trumpet out from popular culture and its various tribal subsets (genY, dinner theatre, "Womyn’s Lit", post 1980s rap and hip hop, the New York Avant Garde, NewAge cafeteria spirituality and Celine Dion - it’s all much the same because it all eschews the hard groping uncertain work of just being human and mechanically refuses to move beyond such pieties as "listen to your heart,"- the only message of American "art" since the Sound of Music.)
"But," drones the creative writing teacher, "if you write about what you know, inspiration will guide you."
One small problem. Thanks to long lifespans, education, travel, books and TV; thanks to multiple sex partners and multiple roles in multiple relationships in multiple worlds real and virtual; thanks to cognitive science and family therapy and ecstasy and prozac and a culture of obsessively narcissistic introspection; thanks to the fact that I can know Juliette Binoche (whom I’ve seen naked) a hundred times better than I know my aforementioned butcher; thanks to Email, Webs, Chats, FAQs, Tinderboxes, Circus Ponies, virtual spiral notebooks and Devonthink; thanks to modernity we all know at least something about EVERYTHING!
We live in a gloriously complicated world; and if a creative writer is going to write about that world rather than merely about himself and his little tribe, he’s going to have to deal with a lot of information. As I see it, an artist’s job is to open up the lines of communication between culture, mind and emotion, to be a kind of living Rosetta Stone. She must not tell us WHAT to think (we all know prejudice is bad and Texans are morons.) She must help us investigate and understand HOW we think and feel. Good theatre, in particular, aspires to be this kind of Virtual Mind, to provide a chance to inhabit a different way of thinking, perceiving and feeling for an evening.
Much of the time, a writer simply can’t cope with all the information that will potentially fill the "mind" of his work. He has to rely on chance, interest and intuition to winnow out the chaff so that his work is both simply entertaining and richly challenging.
Occasionally, this writer will turn to software for help.
As I gather and organize the millions of bits of info that may affect the composition of my next opus, my greatest fear is that some note, factoid, article or intuition - that I believed three weeks ago might someday mate with others of its kind and give birth to a small true moment of human recognition onstage – will get lost in the shuffle. I sure as hell don’t want to rely on a two-inch search field or a See Also button to find it for me, leastwise not until DT uses a thesaurus as big as the one in my brain to hunt things down or the Powerbook G5 comes out.
Nope, what I need is a way to put that damn note where it belongs (and replicants, aliases or clones wherever else it might belong) and often that place is inside another note. I don’t care how you do it: let me import, display and edit OPML, CPNotebook, word outlines, tinderbox Notes, novamind outlines, whatever.
Even better, give every DT folder a real text field just like any other note, and while you’re at it give me the option of seeing in that field not some essentially imformation-free icons, but all the text in the notes that folder contains, all in order, and editable. Now THAT"s a feature. (Tinderbox and Word approximate this, so it’s at least conceivable)
What I need is Devonthink Creative Pro 12.2 (or even 12.2b)
But I’ll settle for Christian’s idea of allowing collapsible text in a field.That would give me outlining AND search AND all my documents and articles in one place. I don’t care how he does it.
People like Christian and Mr Google-- who are trying their best to give us tools to handle the morass intelligently – are doing the most important work of their generation. I’m not kidding. Without such tools we will all soon be forced to choose between A) being overwhelmed, B)letting others (republicans/fundamentalists/microsofts) decide for us what’s important. or C) escaping to the woods – what’s left of them.
I don’t need order because I’m male, I need order because almost everything I do is complex, relational, intuitive and in flux or – simply put in Zo219’s terms – female.
(BTW Zo, this is why I get impatient with easy sexual stereotyping. I have, but I am not, testosterone. Gender differences, while indeed often rooted in genetic and phenotypic differences, are incredibly reactive to environment (I see startling proof of this every day in the theatre) and easy assumptions about "how males think" provide a particularly fertile environment for the kind of stupidity we see in sitcoms, football stadia and Palestine. Any writer who can’t link ideas intuitively and flexibly better keep his day job at the Piggly Wiggly or Fox News. Your assumptions go against the evidence provided by 90% of the (published, hence male) playwrights and poets of the last 3000 years. Moreover, my partner – a woman, a scientist and French to boot!-- loves outlines, bullet points and all the rest much more than I do!)
Nuff said.
Eiron.
>>p.s. Jesus, he does burble on. No wonder he can’t hear me - the universe
p.p.s. Jeez (s)he’s right - Bill this is what happens when I just let loose and write without a plan. Look at all those lists! If I had outlining here, I could have pared this down to 2 sentences and a >:(
Sorry,
as you were