When we feel driven to write about personal stuff — stuff that happened, stuff that maybe might have happened, stuff someone told us happened — there's a ton of information. We need to sift our way through all that information to discover what is thare that we need to put forward, and what's the best way for us to do it. That's what we do at What's the Story?
IT STARTED WITH SOLO PERFORMANCE
Twenty-odd years ago, I set out to write a solo play about a family secret. Since I was a kid, I’d been obsessed with finding out what happened to the family patriarch who first came to the US at the turn of the 20th century, about whom nobody would ever speak. Clearly something terrible and shameful happened. I was determined to find out what it was.
When Looking for Louie opened in LA in 2000, it got a lot of attention.
I was on the performance faculty at the University of Southern California. Other artists asked me if I would help them write a solo play based on personal material. I worked with each of them, one-on-one. After a while, I noticed that—because it was just us—they were writing to please me, and that wasn't a good thing.
At about that time, I was asked to teach an undergraduate solo performance class at USC. There would be fifteen students in the room, and it occurred to me that I might be able to create a way for students to respond to one another's work in a specific, guided, constructive, generous, and (most important) useful way.
The simple approach I offered was based on empathy and curiosity, and it worked. Students received a broad spectrum of response—not just mine. I watched and listened to get a sense of what was important to each writer — what they wanted/needed to say. Why they were bringing this particular material into the room. Only then did I offer guidance, through their lens.
And they went places in their work that none of us imagined they'd go.
I stopped working privately with artists one-on-one, and invited them into a group process, which I called What's the Story?
Because that’s always the question.
Not, What happened? but What does it mean?
Why am I compelled to bring this forward?
OPENING INTO OTHER GENRES
My background was performance and writing for performance. As time went on, writers asked if they could get response to other kinds of work: memoir; novels; songs; screenplays; poems. We used the same process, and it worked. The question is always the same.
Since then I, too, began to write for the page. I got an MFA in Creative Writing: Creative Non-Fiction and Poetry (Antioch University, Los Angeles).
VIRTUALLY EVERYWHERE
The COVID pandemic shut down our in-person workshop in Los Angeles, and we continued to meet weekly via Zoom, which works just fine.
I used to say I would only work virtually with people with whom I have worked in person. Now the language of Zoom is largely universal, so I feel comfortable working with people I have never met IRL. I keeps the groups small so I can see everyone, and they can see one another.
Last year, my family relocated to Detroit, Michigan, to be closer to family. The workshop now includes participants from the West and East Coasts, and the Middle.
We take continue to take care of one another, through plagues and fires, and we keep on writing. We keep each other writing.
Twenty-odd years ago, I set out to write a solo play about a family secret. Since I was a kid, I’d been obsessed with finding out what happened to the family patriarch who first came to the US at the turn of the 20th century, about whom nobody would ever speak. Clearly something terrible and shameful happened. I was determined to find out what it was.
When Looking for Louie opened in LA in 2000, it got a lot of attention.
I was on the performance faculty at the University of Southern California. Other artists asked me if I would help them write a solo play based on personal material. I worked with each of them, one-on-one. After a while, I noticed that—because it was just us—they were writing to please me, and that wasn't a good thing.
At about that time, I was asked to teach an undergraduate solo performance class at USC. There would be fifteen students in the room, and it occurred to me that I might be able to create a way for students to respond to one another's work in a specific, guided, constructive, generous, and (most important) useful way.
The simple approach I offered was based on empathy and curiosity, and it worked. Students received a broad spectrum of response—not just mine. I watched and listened to get a sense of what was important to each writer — what they wanted/needed to say. Why they were bringing this particular material into the room. Only then did I offer guidance, through their lens.
And they went places in their work that none of us imagined they'd go.
I stopped working privately with artists one-on-one, and invited them into a group process, which I called What's the Story?
Because that’s always the question.
Not, What happened? but What does it mean?
Why am I compelled to bring this forward?
OPENING INTO OTHER GENRES
My background was performance and writing for performance. As time went on, writers asked if they could get response to other kinds of work: memoir; novels; songs; screenplays; poems. We used the same process, and it worked. The question is always the same.
Since then I, too, began to write for the page. I got an MFA in Creative Writing: Creative Non-Fiction and Poetry (Antioch University, Los Angeles).
VIRTUALLY EVERYWHERE
The COVID pandemic shut down our in-person workshop in Los Angeles, and we continued to meet weekly via Zoom, which works just fine.
I used to say I would only work virtually with people with whom I have worked in person. Now the language of Zoom is largely universal, so I feel comfortable working with people I have never met IRL. I keeps the groups small so I can see everyone, and they can see one another.
Last year, my family relocated to Detroit, Michigan, to be closer to family. The workshop now includes participants from the West and East Coasts, and the Middle.
We take continue to take care of one another, through plagues and fires, and we keep on writing. We keep each other writing.
LOS ANGELES + DETROIT + VIRTUALLY EVERYWHERE