One Word After Another

My words come in many forms

The above image is from the production of my play, Crossed Connections, produced at 6th Street Theater Studio in 2015, as part of the Redwood Writers Play Festival. Photo thanks to Eric Chazankin. (Please admire, but don't steal his work.)

EXCITING NEWS!
  • I have started a playwriting critique group (because there wasn't one). 
  • We are calling ourselves 45th Parallel Playwrights and we meet the 4th Saturday of each month at Keizer Homegrown Theater, in Keizer, Oregon. 
  • If you are a playwright or want to practice your cold-read skills, visit us 4th Saturday 10-12 (except for Dec. 21st). 


The play starts with three women meeting at a park. Each is on a phone, drinking a covered coffee and yelling at her child. As they communicate with each other and on the phone, something shocking is revealed. It starts:

ALEXIS

Hey. Bernie.

BERNIE

Yo, Alexis.

(Yells to ROBBIE.)

Robbie, off the wall. Kripes, already he’s doing crap.

(CARLA walks to bench, stares down at Bernie. Bernie moves over. All nod greetings.)

CARLA

Remember Charles, it’s very important for mommy to get back to work. We only have 23 minutes. I set an alarm on your little watch.

(ALEXIS and BERNIE exchange looks.)

ALEXIS (to BERNIE)

Haven’t seen you in weeks.

­­BERNIE  

Yeah. I noticed. I mean I didn’t notice you. Noticed you weren’t here.

ALEXIS

Been busy. Got a new boyfriend.

BERNIE

Yeah? He got a job?

ALEXIS

That’s the first thing you ask me?


Lynn Millar - copyright 2019 - everything is mine and is my fault.

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