For those of you who don't know: I'm a member of the Writers Guild of America and I'M ON STRIKE. Meaning, I should be on the picket lines protesting the greed of our country's entertainment industry. It also means I had to stop discussions and/or rewrites of my screenplay which is due to go into production sometime in early 2008.

However...

I'm in Cincinnati. I've been here for three weeks doing a writing residency at the Taft Museum. There's no where to picket. And of course everyone keeps asking, Are you able to do your playwriting residency with the strike going on? Well... my answer is always simple: Writing theater is not under the uber-umbrella of the Writers Guild. [Although maybe it should].

So... although I plan to hit the pavement upon my return to New York City and/or Los Angeles, I have been doing the best I can here in Cincinnati in support of my fellow writers. At every public library reading, at every high school workshop, even at the highlight reading of my play, [not to mention random phone calls with local relatives and friends], I bombard my listeners with the truth about our fight for New Media respect and compensation.

It may not be picketing in three to four hour intervals on the streets of L.A. or NYC, but it's the best I can do from the Ohio/Kentucky border.

By the way, the Writers Guild and the Alliance of Motion Pictiure and Television Producers resume talks on Monday, November 26. Wish us the best!

Until next time,

Keith

An interesting thing happened a few days ago. I was giving a playwriting workshop for high school students. Students who live predominately within the city-limits of an educationally bankrupt city. My strategy was to read a monologue from my play PATRON SAINT OF PLANTS. A play about George Washington Carver. In the monologue, George, defends his right to live in this world to an opposing, jealous co-worker. I then asked the students to write a short monologue where they defend their right to live in this world to an opposing imaginary foe.

Well...

Most of the students dived in willingly. Except for one. A young woman. 17 years old. And who refused to take off her coat, even after being asked FIVE times.

The young woman was sitting there without pencil or paper. And talking. I walked over to her to ask if everything was okay. She mumbled, "I ain't writing nothing." So always-positive Keith asked: 'Is there something wrong with your hand?' And then it happened. Some devious light bulb clicked on in her head. And she smiled and said, "Yeh. By the way there is something wrong with my hand." She then pulled down the sleeve of her coat to reveal a penny-sized lump on her wrist. Her smile grew even more devilish. She asked, "Do you see it? Do you see it?" And I certainly saw it. The button-sized growth that has probably been there since birth. But what I also saw was her middle finger. Erect and profane. Directed at me. She didn't lower her hand at all. She kept the middle finger pointing and all the while asking, "Do you see it? Do you see it?"

So I took a breath. Scanned the faces of her table-mates and their approving giggles. Then I looked back at her and said as calculating and weighted as possible, 'That's really unfortunate. Your behavior is really unfortunate.' Her eyes spread wide with mischief. Sort of like the Grinch. And with her middle-finger still pointing, she laughed: "Oh, you think I'm giving you the finger? Oh, he thinks I'm giving him the finger." She laughed so more until her teacher walked over and pulled her insubordination and distruption out of the room.

I was hurt a little. Not my feelings. As a former teacher, I've certainly had teenages attempt a lot more demeaning things to me. But I was hurt by this young woman's willing nuisance. Her thrill of terrorizing someone who's offering creative space, and her complete avoidance of her own personal and educational neglect.

She is certainly not a pioneer in the the world of insubordination and thin self-esteem, but the unfortunate thing is others congratulate this behavior. They actually consider someone who's unwilling to face themselves and learn to empower a radical, a leader. And that truly concerns me.

Until next time,

Keith