“People tell me I am a good writer,” he said “I used to write a lot on the outside but then I got really into robbing banks.” 
“Well sure” I said, “There is a lot more money in that.”

I was in Donovan state penitentiary (the current home of Sirhan Sirhan and  the Menendez brothers) with an organization called Playwrights Projects, which has a program that facilitates play-writing for the inmates. I was talking to an incarcerated man who wrote a short play.  It was about a man who pitches a world changing invention to Mark Cuban on Shark Tank. And through this he finally wins the love of a woman who happens to be a New York Times best seller author. Over and over in the play the protagonist says to his love interest “Man, it is such a turn on that you are a New York Times best selling author.” To which she would giggle demurely and say “thank you”. And isn’t that the whole reason why anyone would write a best seller? or do anything really, really well? Because it’s a mad, crazy turn-on for someone else?
…

I saw the musical “Waitress” a few nights ago. I am such a sucker for musicals. Oh man, every key-change at an emotionally pivotal point,  breaks me down. I get lost in a big dance number. And I fall for every slow sad reprise. Time slips by when I am watching a good musical in a way that it rarely does when I watch a play… I know I am sorry, Plays. I feel bad about this, because it shows that I really am just a simpleton. I have a masters in music–and even though I think that’s ultimately because I kept showing up to class and I sing pretty– I know enough about music to understand how flimsy the musical structure is in most musicals. I see the tricks that are being played on me, I feel myself being set up by chord progressions, like I am being walked up a set of stairs, just to be pushed off the edge. I know what you are doing to me, Musicals, but I love you anyways!! 

The lead in this production, Christine Dwyler, was an absolute pro, she is one of those performers who is able to weep and sing at the same time. Think about that. Not just weep on command, but weep on command while also, you know, singing. I personally only have have one apparatus that does both the singing and the crying, and I haven’t been able to figure out how to make it multi-task. So naturally, I was like: “Christine Dwyler, the way you cry while you are singing is such a turn on…Also, while I am at it, Sarah Bareiles, the way you write that Grammy and Tony nominated music is such a turn on!”

Back when I was living in New York, still relatively new, I was working in a cafe, and I had just found out that my most recent ex-boyfriend had started dating someone else, it was the same week that my co worker got dumped by his boyfriend. So we decided, “Let’s take our tip money and salve our tender hearts with standby tickets for a musical.” We ended up getting $38 standby for the first preview of the “Color Purple”, with Cynthia Erivo. We were sitting in the orchestra section. Because it was the first preview we didn’t know what we were going to see. If it was going to be good or bad. There was no press out to tell us what to expect. There were no labels on it yet. Let me tell you, as one of two broken-hearted musical-nerds, It was amazing. It was really amazing. In fact my co worker and I look back at this night with reverence for the magic that we wandered into. 
Cynthia Erivo is a goddess in a way that I cannot begin to describe. The audience gave her a standing ovation in the middle of the first half. I didn’t even realize I was doing it, She was singing a song and suddenly I was just standing, and ovating, and crying. And it wasn’t even intermission yet!* For anyone who hasn’t heard Cynthia Erivo sing (and I do recommend you treat yourself to a little YouTube concert, like, now) she has a fine voice, it is clear and well produced, not exceptionally beautiful, but lovely. But the power of her performance lies in her absolute sincerity. That night, she didn’t do anything for the sake of the audience, or for the sake of herself, she simply was Ceely, strong, beautiful Ceely. And every note was honest. 
Cynthia Erivo, the way you sing and you give up yourself for the character, is such a turn on! No seriously, if a recording of you singing ‘I’m Here‘ comes on while my mom and I are in the car, we both have to stop talking and just listen to you and cry. Such a turn on. 
I had a friend once describe a performer as “pulling perfection from the air.” I loved that. As if perfection doesn’t belong to any one of us, it is not something we can hope to hold on to. It is only there in the moments when we have done the work and we are willing to give ourselves up. 
*side note: I HATE undeserved standing ovations, I have, many times, been the curmudgeon who sits clapping at the end of shows while the rest of the audience dutifully sets down their Playbills and stands. Having experienced being profoundly compelled out of my seat by the power of a performance, I don’t think it does anyone any good to waste the sentiment.*  

…
I am sorry, I got carried away, I forgot that I was telling you about the Playwrights at Donovan State Penitentiary.  This was part of an organization called “Playwrights Projects”, where writer/facilitators work weekly with incarcerated men to write short plays. Then have cold readings of performances with local actors.  
On the wall of the prison was a big beautiful painting, a painting of the desert and a mountain, and a road that started right at the bottom perimeter and ambled into the distance. Outside the walls of the prison was a desert, and mountains that marked the very bottom edge of the United States and the very top edge of Mexico.
It was actually surprisingly easy getting into the prison. This may have been a fluke but we didn’t even go through a metal detector. And we brought in a tray of Christmas cookies. And then we just hung out in the visitor center with 15 inmates, with no guards, just a few of the prison employees. I can’t help it, my brain does this thing where I just kept on thinking of all the ways that I could have smuggled in a file. 
When the guys saw the tray of cookies out on the table every one of them seemed incredulous. “We can just take these?” “Yeah, go ahead””Like, now?””Sure.””Like as many as we want?””Well, like, leave some for everyone else. but yeah.”
The head of the program described having a conversation with one of the inmates, She said, “Sometimes the best way to get what you want is by being nice.” To which he responded “Yeah, that doesn’t work in prison.”

But these men seemed nice, they seemed kind and self aware, and in a lot of cases I couldn’t help but imagine that their plays were in some way autobiographical. One play was written from the perspective of two prison guard dogs, doing their job, observing the inmates and questioning whether they were free or prisoners themselves.

Afterwards I stood chatting with the actors, the playwright who had written about Shark Tank, and that super-fine, New York Times best selling author walked by. 
“Congratulations.” I said, “Did you enjoy the program?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking upwards at the ceiling, “but I think my play would have been better if they had let me direct it.”

“Hm. Well, the actors were just reading them for the first time, I thought they did pretty well.”

“Oh really? I didn’t know that. Well, then it was okay. People tell me I am a good writer I used to write a lot on the outside but then I got really into robbing banks.”

 “Well, sure, there’s a lot more money in that