Have I ever talked about one of the greatest plays I ever wrote? I probably have. When I started high school, all freshmen were compelled to take study hall regardless of their grades. My sister was a senior that year and had the drama bug real bad; she had basically already decided that the theatre would be her vocation. Her problem? Budget cuts had taken away our school’s drama program and choir (two of her greatest talents).
So, she took things in hand and started the Drama Club.
Anyway, I was dragged along. We did a lot of improv. Memorized lines. Tried to cobble together a few performances. What we needed were plays to perform, and something a bit better than the freebies we found online. So, my sister asked the members of the club to write plays.
There I was, sitting with nothing to do in study hall: my homework was done, I had B’s and A’s in all my classes and a somewhat lamentable obsession with an online video game, Dragon Fable. So, I wrote a play heavily influenced by the fantasy tropes and humor of the Artix games about a ne’er-do-well rogue accidentally saving the day and replacing the town’s actual defender in the popular eye. The Rogue quickly found himself out of his depth, having to face challenges way above his weight class, and, eventually, he and the original defender of the town had to team up against some big bad, become friends, and both be welcomed back as heroes. Fairly simple, and I had worked in a bunch of jokes that were popular at the time. I think one of our teachers had made a rule that the girls couldn’t all go to the bathroom en masse anymore as it was becoming a problem to have seventeen girls all get up and go to the bathroom together in the middle of class, and I remember writing a scene where all the girls would freeze up suddenly, declare in unison their need, and then head to the bathroom together like mind controlled zombies. Juvenile? Probably, but I had fun.
Anyway, I wrote it on paper as we weren’t allowed to use computers unless it was necessary for our assignment. After a month or so, I had finished this Magnum Opus and took it to our home computer to type it all out. That perfunctory work never quite happened. I would start and stop, get a few pages done; get bored. One day, after many days of neglecting to touch my play, I found that the scribbled pages were gone. My mom had tidied up.
So, it is one of the great lost plays of history, referenced in whispers here and there in different corners. As I look back over my writing from those early years, though I like to think some spark of talent was evident, I am somewhat grateful that my little comedy never saw daylight. It has gained a sort of romantic mystique in my mind, a great never was I can smile at self-indulgently. I can always sit back and wonder, “What if…” while shedding a nostalgic tear.
Oh well, que sera, sera and all that. My sister has actually made some money, off and on, writing plays; more than I’ve made with my little stories, so far. Maybe one day we’ll collaborate on something. I have a few ideas. There were other plays I wrote, some of them that did see the light of day; none of them very good. This one is the best perhaps because it is forever beyond criticism.
Tale Told 