I have pages and pages of notes, little sections of dialogue that I’m writing all the time. ((All Happening Parallel, Emergent Properties, Words That Were Given)) Some go back many years, some are more recent. ((Go Back To Shooting)) And when I know that I have a play that I have to do in the future, or sometimes when I fantasize of it, “Oh, I got to have a play ready in case something comes up,” I’ll look through that pile of notes, and look for some interesting pages, and I might find an interesting page, let’s say, that’s about somebody in a dentist’s chair.

And I think that’s an interesting page. Hmm, I wonder if there’s anything else in these hundreds of pages that might relate to that in some way. And I start looking for other things that in some way I might put with it, and that’s how I grow a beginning text. Then when it’s time to — it gets closer to going into rehearsal, I look at all that stuff, I rearrange it, I rewrite it and rewrite it, but it grows organically that way. ((Mad Bloody Mission)) And then I discover that what this play was really about, wasn’t exactly about a dentist, but it was about somebody who can’t handle fear for instance, and I don’t know that when I begin.