(I am reposting the blog I wrote for Boston Public Works here. Just for you!)



Cassie M. Seinuk is P2.

So many of you--my friends, colleagues, peers--have been the victim of me sharing the Boston Public Works Indiegogo campaign with you and asking you to show your support and donate. I hate doing it, I really do. We all do.  It’s like that time when your great aunt gives you money for Afikoman (see Jewish translation below), and you really want to sneak a peak inside the envelope, but have to wait until later, and you’ve cleaned up from a five-hour Passover seder to finally peek inside that envelope and look for dollar signs. It’s the same thing really, but just like you don’t want to humiliate yourself by greedily ripping open the envelope and slobbering on it like Cookie Monster would a chocolate chip, asking your great aunt Silva (name changed to protect the family) for $25 seems incredibly rude. 

Even more so, asking best friend Jennifer (name changed to protect the grad student), is even more awkward and, let’s face it, terrifying, because that means you’re saying , hey, person who would never ever give me money as a gift, can I have money as a gift?  

So… you know, it’s not easy. It’s even weirder when you message someone on Facebook, like your flat-mates  from 2007 in Scotland (location changed to protect the ultimate playlist makers), asking them to support your dreams… they might even ask, who is this? We don’t like doing it. It’s not fun. It’s squirmy sometimes.

BUT in the past three years since this Indiegogo/Kickstarter/Crowdsourcing phenomenon began, I too have been broke, often unemployed, and constantly weighing theatre tickets over meals, playwriting books over cups of coffee, and of course, donating to your campaigns over a drink with friends.  No, this isn’t I’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine… but wait, isn’t it? Isn’t that what the whole crowdsourcing phenomenon is about??? That’s what I always thought… Pretty much until now. I always thought if I gave 10 or 15 or even 25 here or there to your I'm-Making-My-First-Record Campaign, or Building-My-Own-Restaurant, or Starring-In-My-Own-Web-Series campaign, that I would one day, when I needed it, get some sort of “pay-it-forward”-cute-Haley Joel Osment-return of the favor. Was I really so wrong to think that? I support you, you support me? Maybe. But that’s besides the point, I support you because, frankly, I believe in you. I do. I really do. I’m still the girl sitting with my face glued to the TV screen watching the VHS tape of Mary Martin in Peter Pan clapping my hands off, screaming, “I believe in fairies!” (Many of you fairies turned out to be some of my best friends…) Look, for those of you to whom this rant applies, I believed in you. I had one less iced latte, whiskey drink, or, dare I say, ice cream (for those of you who really know me you know how serious that is) so that I could support you!

Regardless, it doesn’t mean that if I didn’t donate to your campaign, or if you never had a campaign to begin with, that this whole rant above doesn’t apply to you. It does. It applies because remember that time we went out for dinner and for whatever reason I took the bill? Or that time we went out for coffee and you needed two more bucks and they didn’t take credit cards? Or that time I got you, again dare I say, COMP TICKETS! (Sorry, I was loud just there). Or that time you were in a show and I came, or you needed a friend and some cookies and I was there with a bag of rainbow cookies form that bakery in Spring Hill (location changed to protect my co-kitty-mamas), or that time I met with you for extra time to run lines (you all know who you are)… It’s not because I wanted to be repayed someday, it really isn’t, that’s not the way the world works, clearly, but it’s because I cared about you, and believed in you, and wanted to support you.

Look, this whole blog isn’t about donations over $36, really it isn’t even about donations over $18, and actually it’s really about donations of $9.  It’s about 9 bucks a playwright. 9 bucks! 9 smackeroos! That’s all I am asking of you. Because believe me, I do know what it’s like to be waiting for the next pay check, and boy do I really hate asking you guys who are in my shoes, but then I think about myself, and how many times I buy a beer or an iced chai latte, and how I can take that money this month, or week, and put it towards the first season of Boston Public Works, where my dear friend Cassie aka Frass aka Cashew aka Cah aka Cass aka Cassiopeia aka Nuk aka whatever you call me, will have her first EVER full length production (that runs for more than two days as a thesis project – all you Runners out there, no disrespect, H.D.C!) … get to the point Cassie! 9 bucks. Right?

Here are some things you can buy for 9 bucks:

• 2 Starbucks Grande Iced Caramel Macchiatos
  
• 1 sandwich at Diesel Café in Davis Sq.
  
• 1 frozen yogurt with a bunch of toppings if you go to a self-serve place and don’t realize how much stuff weighs…
  
• 2 small ice creams in cups at JP Licks
• 1 can of Lysol Disinfectant Spray, Fresh Scent - 19 oz. Spray Can 
•  1 book at a book store (and a cheap book, most paperbacks are up to 12.99 these days) 
• 1 HD download rental on iTunes!

 Look how many things cost only 9 bucks!   Here are some things we will need to buy for our shows that will cost 9 bucks or less! 

• Small hand props – like a blue ball in FROM THE DEEP
• A bag of Ping-Pong balls also in FTD! 
• A clock! 
• A wrench! 
• A wine glass! 
•  Costume pieces - T-shirts, shoes, most clothing from thrift stores like Goodwill are under $10! 
• A hat!  

 These things I listed are things Boston Public Works will need in just a few months! So when I ask you to donate, think about those things, if you can’t give us a million dollars, I mean. If you are prepared to tell me, Cassie, I'm waiting on a check, or Cassie,  I’m unable to support but I’ll shout out, or Cassie, I’m gonna ignore you right now – Please don’t. Please think about the sets of Ping-Pong balls I’ll be needing in February, or the Goodwill hat that a character in John’s play might wear, or a wrench Jesus will use to fix a car in TURTLES, or a wine glass that Emily’s character will sip from… Think of those items. And then think, can I give enough to cover the cost of one small prop or one small costume piece? We need those things, almost as much as we need the theatre to do our plays in, and the lights to hang, and the royalties to pay the playwrights…(just kidding on that one).   

 If you can spare two Starbucks drinks, or one sushi roll, or make one sandwich at home this week instead of your favorite sandwich shop, the whole Boston Public Works gang will shower you with our undying gratitude. We really will. We are very good at playwriting, but we are also very good at showing our love.    

Thank you! 

I’m going to get back to stalking you all on Facebook now…   Love the very awkward and kooky curly,   Cassie aka P2  

 (PS: Afikoman, meaning "that which comes after" or "dessert” is a half-piece of matzo which is broken in two during the early stages of the Passover Seder and set aside to be eaten as a dessert after the meal.)


Click here to donate 9 bucks!

It's finally LIVE! Help make the first season of Boston Public Works happen, and support us as we take our plays into our own hands!

Just like our friends 13P, The Welders, and the others popping up all over the country, we are putting the power back in the hands of the playwrights, and hoping to change the way art can be made! Not only are we forging a path for ourselves, but we are leaving behind a road map so that you too can do it!

Why support us? 
You believe in our work.
You know how hard it is to get that coveted first production.
You love me?
You love plays?
You want to make a direct impact in the next season of theatre in Boston.
You think Jim Dalglish is super handsome?
You have seen a reading or workshop of one of our plays and thought, hey, I really want to see this fully produced!

There are many reasons to click donate, and at the end of the day it's up to you. But I hope we can both continue to support each other on our journeys as artists and friends.

Also, donations are AMAZING! But also share! Share with your dog, your cat, your parents, your neighbors, your book club, that billionaire you know, and pretty much everyone you know!

If I haven't sold you yet, watch the campaign video here, and learn more about what we plan to do in the next three years!

Check out our LIVE campaign here!

Okay. So this is re: my blog post from a few weeks ago “Let’s talk Trees” about hard copy submissions and why I think they are a huge problem in the submitting world — So, today I got my StageSource reminder telling me to submit to Fire House Center For The Arts and I thought to myself, ever year I see this posting, and for some reason every year I don’t submit… and I couldn’t remember why, but when I downloaded the application rules I remembered.

I’ll bold the stuff that really bugs me:

·      Electronic submissions will NOT be accepted.

·      You must submit (4) copies of each script. Please include the title somewhere on the first page of each copy, but no author name. Please only staple the top left of each short play copy.  One acts and full lengths may include clips or binders.

·        Please include a character breakdown: gender, ages, genre and description with each script.

·        Do not include your name on the (4) copies. Make sure not to identify the author in headers, footers, etc.

·        Please submit a single separate information page for each play you enter.  Include the following information:

1. TITLE OF PLAY        3.  ADDRESS AND EMAIL

2. AUTHOR’S NAME     4.   PHONE NUMBER(S)

·        Scripts will be recycled and not returned.  Copyright licenses always remain with the author(s).

Submissions must be postmarked by Friday,….

Okay, Class, these are the problems: No electronic submissions, and you must not only mail (that includes shipping and postage money, people), but you have to send not 1, not 2, but 4 copies of your script!! If you get your scripts printed outside the home (and don’t work in an office where you can sneakily use their laser jet printer, that can be up to $50 in printing…and you still have to ship it! How is this NOT a submission fee?

How can we “boycott” submission fees and not boycott this?

You’re answer to me is probably, “Jewbana, then you don’t have to submit.” And I will say, “I won’t.” Followed by, “Suck it!” Look. I’m not gonna lie to you good people of the internet, I want to be liked, and I want to be successful as a playwright, but why should I go broke and kill trees in the process? The theatre, especially the bigger ones like Fire House have budgets and printers and copy machines, I know it takes 600 theatre folks to get a copy machine to work — but seriously. I don’t understand how we can say that it’s unfair to ask for a submission fee and not consider printing 4 copies and postage as a submission fee?

Gary Garrison of the Dramatist Guild said:

As of today, the Guild will no longer publicize calls for
submissions that have a fee attached unless that fee is transparent (where does the money go and to whom) in the description to the reader. The subtext: it is not okay to charge a dramatist a fee to supplement a theatre or producer’s production opportunity. YOUR ART IS FEE ENOUGH!

So, that being said, if I am being charged a $10-30 submission fee, but they let me know it covers the cost of printing that they are going to do on their end, so that I don’t have to print and mail my script, then maybe it is okay? Still that’s a lot of money to print my scripts and then recycle them and print someone’s script on the back. That’s a lot of money (period).

But Gary continues, and this is where I really feel he should be on my side about electronic submissions only:

If a theatre or producer tacks on an additional $10, $15 
or $30 fee, one submission now costs anywhere from $20-50, with no guarantees that anything will come of it. And yes, I know: there are no guarantees for anyone in the theatre. But all too often this feels like, “we’re not going to guarantee you anything, AND we’re going to charge you for the privilege of that, AND you’ll probably never hear from us, AND don’t expect any kind of critical reaction to your material, AND don’t expect notification of who, in fact, was chosen.” And if it’s not a money issue then it’s a spirit issue: it’s demeaning enough to submit your work to theatres and producers that you never hear from. To pay someone for their silence is too much to ask anyone…… we will no longer list an opportunity that requires you pay a fee to be considered for inclusion.

Enough is enough.


Theatre’s will not guarantee acknowledgement that they have even received your script, let alone, as Gary says, there is no guarantee that your script will get chosen — so you are paying for someone else’s play to get produced. If I print 4 copies of a script and mail it to you, I want to know you received it, and I want to feel like the money it takes me to print and mail my scripts is being acknowledged.

To sum this all up, I would almost rather pay a $10 submission fee than spend $50 printing script, killing trees, and wasting ink — where in many cases the company will receive a script read the character breakdown, decide it’s not what they are looking for and toss the script into a recycling bin or feed it to their pet shredder.

I say, Enough is enough! No more hard copy scripts!