"Not Writing" by Clare Barron

Where I Zoom

Periods of not writing have always been part of my writing practice. And when I talk about "periods" I mean like years. I wrote a couple plays in college, then took a break from 22 to 25 because I felt like I didn't have anything to say. I started writing again at 25 then had a major mental breakdown at 30, was diagnosed with bipolar, went on psychiatric medication, and haven't written a play since. It's been four years.

I often think about that period from 22 to 25. And yes, fuck me. I was so young. Who cares if you don't write plays from 22 to 25 lol but the important thing is I really gave up on writing during those years. I decided, "Okay, that's it! I am not going to be a playwright. I choose a different path." 

This is where I sometimes sit on the floor and think about writing, lol

And then I changed my mind.

1. It makes me feel good to know you can give up on something, and then change your mind. 

2. I really feel like my writing got better because I took that break. And that's my suspicion about breaks in general. 

We're all kind of on a break together now. Some of my friends are so productive during Covid, and I admire them for using this time. I am not. I've been really struggling with mental health. Bipolar, like a lot of mental illnesses, is triggered by stress, so it always flares up at the least convenient times. I feel like all my coping mechanisms are not available to me. Sex. Bars. Dancing. I'm the sort of manic-depressive who craves company. When I'm feeling sick, I drag my body out into the world and put it in spaces with other people who will get me drunk, take care of me, etc. 

I don't write here

That's the brutal thing about this pandemic. It puts our various identities in relief. You have kids? Now you're really gonna feel what it means to be a mom. You're single? Now you're really gonna feel what it means to be alone. Who's getting sick? Our essential workers. Who are our essential workers? Mostly black and brown people who are risking their lives and not getting paid what they deserve because racism is a pandemic and people are dying from it every. single. day.

What I want to say is that it's okay not to write. For this whole year! For this whole next two years! It's okay to not be a "successful" playwright in your twenties... thirties... forties... It's okay to not be a "successful" playwright at all. The systems that govern us are so broken and corrupt. Why do we need them to validate us?

Morning coffee on the patio w/ the cats and our kiddie pool

Something I asked myself when Dance Nation was happening amidst the flurry of "teenage-girl plays" that spanned the last few years is, would these plays be as lauded, popular, etc. etc. if they were written by sixty-year-old women. Look at the reviews for those plays. They use words like "voyeuristic," "raw," "trembling." There was a sexual (!!!) excitement around getting to be a fly on the wall and watching these young, nubile creatures (lol) talk about sex, blow jobs, periods, YES, so thrilling to be in a young woman's private space, a young female writer's private space... 

The American Theater gets a real hard-on for a 27-year-old debut, and it's impossible to separate the art from this world-premiere fanfare. I've played with this whole sexualized image of youth my whole career. It is authentically who I am, but I'm also using it because I know that as a young, white woman in America, this is one reliable way in which I can have power. My youth, my whiteness, my thinness, my Yale degree have all given me permission and protection to talk about whatever the fuck I want and still be taken seriously. These aspects of my identity have gotten me attention, gotten me jobs… They’ve made me palatable to people in power.

I haven't consistently drank this much alcohol since my college graduation week.

What makes me sad, though, is not just the way that critics and institutions cum for young writers. It’s the way that we, the artists, internalize this and become obsessed with success at 26 or 29… And to be clear! With good reason! We're terrified. We need money and security. Success in theater has always been about security. If I'm successful, I'll get to keep making my plays (actually not true, but that's for another time lol). If I'm successful, I can teach, or get a TV deal or whatever. It's fucking hard to live in New York without success. It's fucking hard to wait fifteen years for someone to put your play on. It fucking sucks. It's not fair. And it often makes you bitter and depressed and with good reason!

Our need for success makes taking breaks really scary. Our obsession with young success makes people go crazy and feel less valuable as they get older.

We have to fight both of these things. 

I haven't written a play in four years. I don't know if I'll write a play ever again. Who cares. 

I haven't done my laundry since pre-pandemic (dated 6/23/20).

My prayer for us is simply that we're not afraid to get old. My prayer for us is simply that we value the things we learn with time. That as much as we celebrate and listen to young people rising up. We also make space for people who have been living before us. Who have been working before us. That we do not forget the labor that has already been done. The things that have already been said. Before #metoo. Before Black Lives Matter. PEOPLE WERE WRITING ABOUT THESE THINGS AND THE THEATERS WERE NOT INTERESTED. I pray that we lift up the voices that came before us. That we read our old plays and rediscover what's there. That we allow for people to emerge at all ages. We allow for people to begin at all ages. To quit, and return again. To take breaks. And to come back to us. And we will welcome them with open arms. 

All photos courtesy of Clare Barron.