9 Months To Birth Your Play
9 Months To Birth Your Play is a new series designed for artists to explore well-being-centred approaches to their practice whilst gaining a more rigorous understanding of the psychology of drama. 8 Well-being Workshops by neuro-psychodynamic coaching psychologist Anna Webster run alongside Writing Workshops from 9 exemplary artists working in the wonderful world of new writing today.
This is the final workshop in this series.
Reading Back & Taking Notice by Kaite O’Reilly
First, get a roll of wallpaper…
Nobody ever taught me how to write plays and put them together in a way that is satisfying both for the writer but most particularly the audience. There was no-one to advise on what to do once that murderous first draft was finally completed, and the task of revision and rewrites loomed…
I was a child of the cut and paste generation. Thatcher and her policies had broken the wheel (“there is no such thing as Society”) so we had to reinvent it with chewing gum and string and a kind of hopeful defiance. The lack of resources and need to answer back, make some noise, create something in what felt like a destructive capitalist hinterland made autodidacts of many. The NME ran features showing guitar chords: ‘now make your own band’ and Roddy Doyle, so the story goes in Dublin, sold his books out of a suitcase on O’Connell Street. It was get up and get going, even if by Shanks’s pony, an attitude I embraced when deciding to write my first play.
I was burning to communicate, to share through this empathetic, ephemeral, devastatingly alive medium – but how to do it? Those were the days before the ubiquitous MAs in creative writing and when only a handful of theatres had what they called ‘literary departments’. I learnt like most of us – by doing it. I made myself an active reader and audience member, analysing plays, interrogating what I thought worked, or didn’t, then digging into why. I took apart plays I admired, following a character’s throughline by tracing their journey through each scene, highlighting their dialogue and actions, much as an actor might. I underlined pivotal plot points, when new information with consequences was released like a ticking bomb, ready to be detonated at a precise moment in future pages. Through close reading I began to appreciate cause and effect, marking the seeding of consequential action and its eventual flowering in an appropriate hue. By colour-coding published texts and analysing what was happening at any moment, I in effect got under the bonnet and made a diagram of the engine’s inner workings. By taking apart I learned how to construct and began to understand what I now would call dramaturgy.
So far so good… But how then to apply this analysis to my own sprawling piece, so raw and underdeveloped and lacking in the mechanisms I’d been identifying so easily in the magnificent scripts I loved. What the hell to do?
I knew I had to make this theoretical knowledge practical, to find a way of diagnosing, treating, and being my own script doctor. I needed to be inventive. DIY. So I created a process for myself to support my revisions which I found helpful and perhaps you might too:
Read and re-read and then re-write in the light of the ending.
If I’m happy with how the play ends, I go back and ensure that the plot points all lead to it, so we get that optimal result: a surprising and satisfying conclusion for the audience, which somehow feels unexpected but inevitable. They can retrace the seeds planted, carefully tended throughout, to yield this particular harvest. This is following the inner logic of the world you’ve created and the psychological and emotional life of your characters.
How I do this is by tracking all the elements that make the piece – the logic, the throughline, the journey of the characters and the events of the play from inception to conclusion. If I’m unhappy with how the play ends, doing this work invariably provides me with a satisfying new ending.
I now largely do this work instinctively, in my head, but when I was starting out, I needed to write it down – to externalise the inner workings of the script so I could scrutinise them and see the mechanisms, consequential action, moments of conflict, action, response and resolution/outcome. In order to do this, I needed a large piece of paper and many different coloured pens. So…
First, get a roll of wallpaper…
I take my roll of wallpaper and with marker pens I number the scenes horizontally, leaving a lot of space between each scene. If I’m not structuring my units of action as scenes, I identify and label specific beats or page numbers, so I am always precise and know exactly where I am at any moment.
I then make a vertical list starting with character names, going through scene by scene and filling in a graph revealing:
- Who is in each scene? If a character is absent from a scene, simply leave that space blank.
Once I’ve jotted down the dramatis personae I make the following new vertical entries, filling in, scene by scene:
- What is happening in the scene/beat? Action.
- What is being seeded (subtext) or explicit – what does the audience see/know at this point?
- What purpose this moment serves: seeding or progression of plot point, revelation of relationship/character, comedic moment to create contrast, etc.
- What is the emotional temperature of the scene/beat? Noting if there is rising tension, conflict or resolution, etc.
This scrutiny reveals areas requiring rewrites, restructure, edits, or new material to plug holes or bridge one state to another.
Once I have the bare bones of what is happening, I then scrutinise the characters and go through one at a time, following their throughline, checking it is clear and strong and credible. This enables me to trace the emotional and psychological journey the characters make, so even minor characters are changed and different by the end, offering the audience satisfaction.
Each scene/beat I ask:
- What is the character doing, what do they want, what is their motivation?
- What do they know about the events of the play at any point?
- What is their emotional/psychological state and reaction to the actions/events?
- What is their attitude to others present, and to themselves?
- Is there progression and growth? Is the character’s behaviour consistent or logical for their state? Is there change and development or are they playing one note?
This enables me to understand the dramaturgical role the character is playing. It reveals if a character is necessary for the storytelling (even as comic relief), or merely a plot device and whether they are active, or a passive taker-up-of-space. It can reveal where further edits or new material is required to create complex, active characters who are the protagonists of their own lives. Reading the script following one character’s journey ensures there is logic in emotion, reaction to action, the passing of time, and what each character knows about the events of the play at each point. Plotting the graph makes me aware of when a character is absent for too long, or onstage when they have no need to be there, just cluttering the space, and their exit might enable a fresh new dynamic in the moment.
I then check again the emotional and dramatic temperature of the scenes, an easy way to identify ‘sameyness’ in dynamic, tone and emotion. Too much heat without respite or counterpoint can lead to melodrama or an exhausted audience – we need to play them, offering variety, downtime, release, tension, rising tension. Externalising and tracking scene by scene allows an overview of myriad aspects – the narrative arc, the characters’ journeys, the dramaturgical ebb and flow of the drama, etc.
All this can be overwhelming, so a really essential lesson is:
Do one task at a time
It’s a mistake to try and multitask. When re-reading a play it’s easy to be distracted by additional thoughts, desires to edit, or add. Take one task at a time. Be really disciplined about having one focus which carries you through each reading of the script, as it is too easy to become overwhelmed and therefore disheartened. Comb it through one strand at a time – e.g. the logic/story/characters’ journeys; the tempo-rhythm and flow; dialogue, etc. Try and complete each task before you move to another, as otherwise revision can feel chaotic and disorganised.
Have a constant dialogue with your creative self
Check in with yourself about your intentions and ambitions for the script. Remind yourself what you hope to achieve and make sure you stay on track – or follow a new one if your intentions have changed during the course of writing the play.
Be clear on what role you are playing at any time
Are you being a critic or a problem-solver? Are you editing or adding? Mixing roles from editor/critic to creator/solver can involve jumping from one brain function to another, which can result in confusion.
Most importantly… Be gentle on yourself
The industry is challenging, as is the process of being creative, so don’t beat yourself up if you seemingly ‘fail’. Redefine what ‘success’ is on your own terms. Be compassionate to yourself. Some days the juice isn’t flowing, so do something else with your energy and come back refreshed and positive, not allowing previous disappointments shadow a new day. At times it really is just a state of mind, so go lightly, and with curiosity. Seek out joy. And do back and neck exercises often during the day.
Finally, remember: Living well is the best revenge.
Good luck with the revisions. Celebrate each small achievement. You may not yet know what ‘it’ is, but you are constantly learning what ‘it’ is not, and that brings you closer to your goal and completion.
Onwards!
Kaite x
About Kaite O’Reilly…
Kaite O’Reilly is a multi-award winning playwright and dramaturg, who writes for radio, screen and live performance. Prizes include the Peggy Ramsay Award, Manchester Theatre Award, Theatre-Wales Award and the Ted Hughes Award for new works in Poetry for Persians (National Theatre Wales). She is a two time finalist in the International James Tait Black Prize for Innovation in Drama (2012, 2019) and The Susan Smith Blackburn Prize. She was honoured in the 2017/18 International Eliot Hayes Award for Outstanding Achievement in Dramaturgy for developing ‘Alternative Dramaturgies informed by a Deaf and disability Perspective’. A leading figure in disability arts and culture internationally, her Atypical Plays for Atypical Actors and The ‘d’ Monologues are published by Oberon/Bloomsbury. She was production dramaturg and narration director of Rambert’s ‘Peaky Blinders’ dance theatre The Redemption of Thomas Shelby. Her first feature film, The Almond and the Seahorse, featuring Rebel Wilson and Charlotte Gainsbourg, will be released in the UK in 2024.