Why I tell the stories I do…

There a lot of people in my world who keep expecting my next piece to be an edgy – hip play that pushes the boundaries and has lots of cool swear words and images. That isn’t going to happen. I just ain’t edgy.


People figure since I’m a blue collar dude from Chicago, I should be cranking out Mametian work rife with angst and f-bombs. There really is no reason to – Mamet already does it and very few do it better.


I try to tell stories that create a world that I would want to live in or at the very least control in some way or another. In some cases I want to recreate a moment so I can go back and fix what was broken for me – or for someone I love – in that moment. Sometimes I go back to pay tribute to the people or the event – or both. Sometimes I just want to go back because things were simpler in the 20th century.


My father used to take me to movies that were way over my head when I was a little kid and afterward we would go to the Majestic restaurant and get a cup of sherbet and he would patiently explain it to me. This created a passion for creating art that could be shared with a family across generations.


My mother and I used to write (terrible) pop songs. We pulled every cliché out of the book and arranged them with a forced rhyme scheme which I then typed up on her Princess Electra typewriter. Even the melodies we banged out on that old Sear guitar were predictable – but what a time we had. This created a passion to develop art with someone I love.


I tell the stories I tell because they are mine. They are my moments. They are my memories. I only hope I strike some universal chord with them and inspire someone else to mine their history for their won stories to share.  Thank you…

Published in: on February 4, 2008 at 9:01 pm  Comments (1)  

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One CommentLeave a comment


    This is PERFECT for a writer like myself. I’m not trying to change anyone’s minds (asking people to be nicer to each other isn’t exactly the most courageous moral stand one can take) and I’m not here to tell anyone the answers to life. All I want to do is rephrase the question, if I can.

    But mostly, I want to shine the light on a moment in time where perhaps justice triumphs in the end or a situation gets the laughing-at it truly deserves. I want the person who paid for a ticket to forget how much their babysitter charges or how uncomfortable their seat is or how they could have saved some money and rented a movie instead.

    Thank you for writing this. It’s always good to see that another writer agrees that something doesn’t have to have an edge to be worth writing about in today’s theater.

    Brian K. Morris

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