Swords of Damocles

We're almost there.

This week, after eleven months of planning, pining, and pulling what's left of my hair out, we return to the good old Library for another installment of this... thing... that we do. The set is mostly finished, the props are mostly done (as is Jules' patience with them), the actors mostly know their lines (for whom Jules' patience is infinite, and unwaveringly creative). Even the audience is starting to fill up, so if you haven't gotten your seats already please let us know as soon as you can. Even Clementine seems to want us to get this show on the road:

Even so, I still find myself running through nightmare scenarios in my head. There's the elephant in the room, of course - one positive rapid test and we're doomed. The 7th wave is now well underway - will mask mandates be back by Friday? Public health measures aside, there's also the weather - rain for the load-in is a problem, rain for the strike is a safety hazard, or a punishing heat wave in an un air-conditioned building could prove too much for some audience members, to say nothing of the poor cast members that all seem to be wearing heavy, multi-layered costumes. Discoverability is always a concern for us - people have lived in this community all their lives and don't know where the Ennotville Library actually is, or how easy it is to find. And yes, audience spots are filling up fast, but what if they peter out over the next few days, and we're playing to a crowd of mostly crickets? As it is without paid tickets there's no guarantee that guests will actually show up, though historically most of them do. And then there's the playwright's worst nightmare of all - what if people don't actually like my plays, or "get" them? Will they laugh when they're supposed to laugh, or will they laugh when they're supposed to cry? Will the kudos at the end of the night be genuine or facetious? And how will I feel about this when it's all over? Will I look back fondly, on what we all accomplished, or will I tormented, as I have been of late, by the things I got wrong?

I had planned to delete that paragraph. Just get the worries off my chest, get rid of it, and move on with another upbeat, get-your-tickets-before-they're-gone sales pitch. But you deserve better than that - I promised you that I would be honest here. So you can pick your way through the last paragraph if you really want to, but what it boils down to is this: we're almost at the finish line. The shows will likely happen this weekend. They may not, for a number of unlikely reasons, but living with that uncertainty, however small, is the "new normal" for people like me now. I'm not happy about that, but I need to find a way to live with it. Not just live with it, but thrive within it. I can't let the Swords of Damocles (for there are many) that hang over my head keep me from enjoying, whilst I can and as best I can, the wonderful journey that I've been on with this production. The swords are not going to go away anytime soon, but even if everything does come off without a hitch in another seven days this show will be over. Perhaps it's good for me to keep that in mind. 

So I'm going to have some fun this week, or fail trying. Hope to see you there.