Close to packing it in . . .

I came close to packing it in with the O'Neill piece this weekend. Sort of one of those 'what have I gotten myself into moments'. And then I went back and read it with a very critical eye. I figure a trim here or there and it's do-able. It's not as close to my heart as Old Hickory and never will be, and it's one that I wouldn't mind someone else tackling, but for now I'm down with doing it. It has some wonderful things to say about art and the life of the artist, and this guy is definitely staring into the abyss, so that's a nice acting challenge . . . a good workout.

It is a daunting task to learn the lines. It's about half of what Old Hickory was this time last year, as I remember it was 21 pages when we did the One Man Talking, and O'Neill is 10. It'll absolutely be a challenge, especially since I can't spend three hours a day every day working the lines, which I could last year as I wasn't working . . . it'll get done and then I can move on.

Speaking of moving on, I am working on yet another solo piece that intrigues me. Another hillbilly gothic tale of murder, this time not ex-wives . . . if it works out it could be a companion piece to OH, which is sort of my goal. Make it an evening of hillbilly gothic, maybe even call it that. We'll see. Gotta get it written first. I'm making progress, a little chip at the block every day, one of these days the only thing left will be this play . . . as long as I'm having fun with it that's the main thing . . . otherwise, why bother?