If you think a writer has a cushy life, swaddled in his housecoat, pecking away at his computer keyboard while sipping warm tea, think again. This week, I've been hard at work talking up my play, The Bone House, to students at various Edmonton schools. The whole point is to generate enough buzz so that people come see the show when it opens. I'm pitching to audiences who have no clue who I am. Some days, I have to work harder than others, but I love doing this part of the job. And yes, marketing is a part of a playwright's job. I'd even argue that it is part of a novelist's job (although some novelists would bust my kneecaps for daring to suggest this). I survive on royalties. If the show sells well, I do well. If the show tanks, I'm filling out a job application for Chapters. Some writers hate this part of the job because they equate marketing to used car sales tactics. Nothing could be further from the truth. If you love your story, all you're doing is sharing your passion with others and letting them know where they can see the show. I'm having a blast visiting schools across the city and watching the reactions of people who go from cynics to believers. I can't wait until the show opens.
On a sad note, I learned some bad news about my other play, The Forbidden Phoenix. One of my actors had to drop out. That's reality of the business, but it still sucks to lose someone who talented and positive. The real sad thing is the actor's note just reminded me of how little I have to do with this upcoming production in Winnipeg. It's almost like I'm hearing family news about distant cousins. I just don't feel connected to the show, even though I created it. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
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