Counting Jokes
Bert counted every three lines. I counted across three acts. For thirty years, both clocks ran at once.

THE NOTEBOOK
Where rehearsal keeps going.
The Notebook is where I follow the discoveries that arrive after the first draft—sometimes in the room, sometimes in conversation, and sometimes years after a production has closed.
A room. A line of dialogue. A whiteboard. A Post-it note. A box someone forgot to throw away. Small things have a habit of opening larger questions about playwriting, performance, memory, institutions, comedy, and the often invisible structures that shape how people think, speak, and behave.
No Notebook entry tries to explain a play completely. Theatre has always been a collaboration, and that collaboration doesn’t end on opening night. It continues in rehearsal, in conversation, and in the moments when a play becomes larger than the script that started it.
The best plans are temporary hypotheses.
FEATURED
Bert counted every three lines. I counted across three acts. For thirty years, both clocks ran at once.

One kind of creative trust was discovered. The other was constructed.
The object is hidden once. The authority standing beside it is hidden twice.
Some conversations begin with a play.
Others begin here.