Plays    <<------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<<

Plays and Productions:

Blood & Beer Slate Theatre, 2018

Bobbie & Evan: A Twisted Carol (with Beau Pritchard)   StageRight Dec 2014

Evening with Mark Twain                                         Tour

Voices                                                                          Cornish College of the Arts

A Rogue and Peasant Slave                                     Shakespeare Plus!

Death Strikes!                                                              New City/Prose and Poetry Society

The Stranger (1 Act version)                                       New City Playwrights Fest

                                                                                        Belltown Theatre Center NewWorks

Santa Clause vs. the Purple Ray of Death                New City Playwrights Fest.

Childhood, Life, Love, and Death                                New City Playwrights Fest

Straight Men                                                                  New City Playwright Fest.

Why Do Fools…                                                              Macha Monkey Workshop

Bobby in ’68                                                                    One Man Show/Workshop

>>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->>    Books

Fabulous Fictioneers                                    Pop Culture Essays           PS Publishing: Published June 2019                

Robert E. Howard and the Battle For Conan      Non-Fiction                TwoMorrows Pub: Summer 2020

"Bobby in '68", an excerpt:

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BOBBY KENNEDY: Poverty. This was an ‘issue’ that hides in plain sight. It was class, it was race and we couldn’t see it because it was right in front of us. It didn’t have students marching, it didn’t lead the Brinkely/Huntly report but it shaped more lives than the war, it killed as many futures as the Viet Cong.

It was the one thing I ever agreed with Lyndon about; poverty. It had to be fought, but it also had to be understood. Sending a bunch of well-meaning white people into black neighborhoods might make us feel better, but visible poverty is one thing, it was the deeper poverty we had to go after, it was a wound we had to heal. If they’d let us.

Mississippi. It was some of the worst poverty I’d ever seen, the kind that should have hung America’s head in permanent shame. We went outside of the towns, past the city centers and people wanting to hand me keys and plaques, as the poor were always away, hidden, off main roads, on the cheapest land, the kind of land no one would want except those that had no other choice. There were rows of dusty shacks… shacks is being generous. Clapboard, missing windows, missing doors, repaired with flattened tin cans, old signs, planks ripped from other houses that were so bad as to be completely unlivable. No running water, just a communal pipe sticking out of the ground that you had to let run for minutes until it cleared enough of mud and rust that you could drink it. It should have been boiled, but you can’t tell a thirsty child to wait while water boils and cools. There was a lot of sickness. You don’t talk about being sick when you’re poor, you don’t talk about expensive things like doctors, drugs, because you don’t talk about what you can’t have. It’s expensive to be poor. They pay a tax greater than any of our CEOs.

Kids sat outside in the dirt, hungry, rags barely covering the sores on their arms and legs. Stomach swollen from too little food, not too much.

            HE KNEELS DOWN TO TALK TO A YOUNG BOY

What did you have for breakfast?

Molasses.

What did you have dinner?

Molasses.

For lunch.

Don’t have no lunch.

The shacks were clean, the families kept them as clean as possible. The flies… The flies were terrible. They descended on you, clung to you, searched you like a hungry man; crawling into pockets, under clothes, into eyes and mouths. At one home I found the family listless with hunger, the children near catatonic.

No, you all wait outside, no pictures please. I’ll be fine, I have friends here.

The smallest boy had a stomach distended from hunger. A little girl just lay on the dirt floor, like a pile of rags, so sick, so weak from malnourishment she couldn’t even brush away the flies that nearly covered her. She just lay there… my god.

Honey? Hi…

BOBBY PICKS UP THE CHILD. HOLDS HER, SHOOS AWAY THE FLIES AND WHISPERS LOW TO HER. HE ROCKS SLOWLY BACK AND FORTH, SOFTLY SINGING.

My life has been wasted, it’s all been for nothing. Nothing…

          ------------

"Why Do Fools", an excerpt:

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IN THE BEGINNING: CONFUSION MEETS CHANCE

BOB STANDS CENTER, LOOKING OUT AS IF TRYING TO FIND SOMETHING, HE HOLDS A COUPLE BOOKS. BEAT. DEBBIE PASSES BY BEHIND. SHE STOPS AND SURVEYS THE STILL FORWARD LOOKING BOB. SHE REVERSES COURSE, PASSING WITHIN INCHES RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM.

DEB: Oh, excuse me.

BOB: Uh, sure.

DEB WALKS TO THE SIDE OF THE STAGE, BOB, AFTER FOLLOWING HER WITH HIS EYES A BRIEF SECOND, LOOKS AWAY. DEBBIE HEADS BACKS PASSING BY AGAIN, BUMPING INTO HIM.

DEB: Oh, geeze, sorry!

BOB: Oops, that’s okay. Almost dropped my books.

DEB: Oh these books? (Debbie puts her hand on them)

BOB: Yeah, right.

            DEBBIE KNOCKS THE BOOKS FROM HIS HANDS. HE LOOKS AT HER, SHE LOOKS BACK.

BOB: (Puts out his hand) Bob.

DEB: I know. Debbie.

BOB: I know.

            PAUSE

DEB: You going to pick those up?

BOB: Maybe.

DEB: Want a ride home?

BOB: Maybe.

DEB: Car’s in the lot.

BOB: Orange, U of A sticker.

DEB: Maybe.

BOB: You going to pick these up?

            DEB WALKS OFF TOWARD THE LOT

BOB: Maybe not…

            BOB SCOOPS UP THE BOOKS, RUNS AFTER HER

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"The Final Problem of Sherlock Holmes", Excerpt:

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LIGHTS DIM. PROFESSOR MORIARTY ENTERS, STANDING CENTER IN A SPOT OF LIGHT.

MORIARTY: Enter.

            MORAN ENTERS. HE LOOKS AROUND HIM, NOT SURE OF WHAT OR WHOM HE SEES. MORIARTY DOESN’T LOOK AT HIM.

MORIARTY: Do you know who I am?

MORAN: I have heard of you.

MORIARTY: I am more rumor than legend, more fancy than fact. That is the way I prefer it.

MORAN: Then it is true…

MORIARTY: It is all true, it is all lies. Do you know why you are here?

MORAN: I can guess.

MORIARTY: Then please do so.

MORAN: You have need of my skills.

MORIARTY: True, and also incorrect.

MORAN: Sir?

MORIARTY: We have need of each other Colonel. I have need of your skill as a marksman to look after certain… assignments… both here and abroad.

MORAN: Ah yes, of course.

MORIARTY: Of course, and you have need of my services as well.

MORAN: Do I?

MORIARTY: Please Colonel, don’t embarrass yourself any further. You fled India ahead of desertion and fraud charges…

MORAN: Now see here. I…

MORIARTY: (Holding up his hand sharply) Stop. Do not lie; it sickens me. There have been several women who all have thought themselves to be Mrs. Colonel Sebastian Moran, there have been several men left holding worthless ‘investments’ and more who hold notes not worthy of the parchment they are written on. Your ill-gotten money you’ve lost to horses, cards and whores…

MORAN: Am I on trial?

MORIARTY: Even now you make your living by cheating others at chance, a living only able to keep up your front and club memberships and that not for long. You have disgraced and degenerated your skills of the hunt, of iron will and the sharpest eye in the British army.

            I am here to give them back to you.

MORAN: I am listening.

MORIARTY: You will be on a retainer, enough to keep you in style and in society where I will need you. You will live in a flat I have procured for in in Central London, with memberships in every club that I deem important to my cause. You will have an account to draw funds from, limitless. In exchange, I will make use of your organizing skills and your ability to inspire discipline in followers. And your marksmanship, most obviously your marksmanship. 

This is agreeable to you?

MORAN: If I say no?

MORIARTY: (TAKES OUT A NOTEBOOK, READS) I have already dealt with Sir Geoffrey Northing who held several of your worthless notes, with Lord Marbury who was spreading rumors of your inexplicable sharpness at cards, (he had an explanation, by the way), and one Miss Wilde. A delicate little thing who claimed to be with your child…

            These are a few of the problems I have already taken care of; a smallish demonstration. I would say you would be a ruined man, taken down by your own lusts and wantoness, within the month.

MORAN: I see.

MORIARTY: Do you? I offer interesting and challenging work, something you are lacking in this human jungle London; money to keep you amused and away from some of your baser desires, and safety. From the law, from your enemies, from yourself.

MORAN: I accept.

MORIARTY: A man of few words. I appreciate that, I am told it is a habit I should adopt. Of course, if you had not accepted.

            ROBINSON AND HIS GANG STEP OUT OF THE SHADOWS

MORAN: I see.

MORIARTY: So you say. (HE REACHES INSIDE HIS COAT, PULLS OUT A MASK) You will need this.

MORAN: A mask?

MORIARTY: Much of your value lies in your anonymity; unmasked you have no value to me. In this sanctum, with my minions, you will be masked.

MORAN: I am no man’s minion.

MORIARTY: Nor shall you be. My LAST lieutenant ran afoul of a man, a‘consulting’ detective and had to be… replaced. With you.

            MORAN PUTS ON THE MASK.

MORIARTY: I will inform you when you are needed. It will most likely be soon. Mister Robinson will see you out.

            MORAN EXITS WITH ROBINSON. MORIARTY AGAIN TAKES OUT HIS NOTEBOOK.

MORIARTY: Holmes, Sherlock. To be watched.

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The Stranger: Excerpt: 

THUNDER

         ENTER TWO MEN IN SUITS, HATS, WITH A BORED AIR ABOUT THEM. I'M NOT SURE IF THE AIR IS BORED OR THEY ARE, BUT HEY! IT'S NOT MY PARTY. DETECTIVES MURPHY AND O’MALLEY.

                                          IT STARTS TO RAIN HARDER 

STRANGER: And the rains came.

MURPHY: Hey Boyo.

O'MALLEY: Going somewhere.

STRANGER: And it brought the cops. Murphy, O’Malley. Yeah, I'm heading outside. I figure we can take an indoor scene just and play it outside, like Neil Simon writing for the movies.

MURPHY: Kinda obscure Simon joke, whadda you say, O’Malley?

O’MALLEY: Dennis Miller territory.

MURPHY: And we all know how Miller ended up… 

         MURPHY MOTIONS TOWARDS THE STRANGERS DESK. O'MALLEY NODS AND STARTS SEARCHING THE DESK, HOLDING UP VARIOUS ITEMS FOR APPROVAL.

STRANGER: You've got a warrant?

MURPHY: With the Patriot Act?

STRANGER Oh yeah, that’s right. Bush. Where’s he been keeping himself? We were getting worried about him, wandering the condo in Dallas, in his old presidential pj’s, telling people alllll about his really, really cool library and dog paintings.

MURPHY: You done?

STRANGER: Nah. (LOOKS AT WATCH) This is a two act structure, we got an intermission yet…

O’MALLEY: (TO MURPHY) Where were we…?

STRANGER: Search warrant?

MURPHY: Right. Don't need one shamus.

STRANGER: You won't find any evidence of anything you know.

MURPHY: Ain't looking for evidence.

STRANGER: Then why the roust?

O'MALLEY: Office supplies. (TO MURPHY) We need a stapler?

MURPHY: Take it. Ok, Stranger, where's the good stuff?

STRANGER: I don't know what you're talking about.

MURPHY: The man doesn't know what we're talking about...

         O’MALLEY COMES FROM AROUND THE DESK. BOTH FENCE IN THE STRANGER DOWNSTAGE. 

O'MALLEY: Maybe we should teach the man what we're talking about.

         O'MALLEY GRABS THE STRANGER BY THE JACKET. MURPHY TAKES OUT A NOTEBOOK.

MURPHY: Three days ago a suspect...

O'MALLEY: That's you bright boy.

MURPHY: ...Suspect was seen leaving Office Depot with several large bags of merchandise. When questioned, the clerk claimed that suspect...

STRANGER: That'd be me again?

O'MALLEY: Is the Pope Irish?

STRANGER: Uh, no, he isn't.

         PAUSE.

MURPHY: (PUNCHES THE STRANGER IN THE STOMACH) Well, he SHOULD be!

O'MALLEY: You got something against the Irish, bucko?

STRANGER: Not in front of them, no.

MURPHY: Suspect had purchased several reams of white bond multipurpose White Shark copier paper...

O'MALLEY: That's mighty hard stuff.

STRANGER: Well, I'd planned to cut it with store brand.

MURPHY: I just bet you did.

O'MALLEY: You know Murphy? I don't see a copier around here...

MURPHY: I think you're right.

STRANGER: Hey, I was just getting the stuff for a friend.

MURPHY: Sure you were...

O'MALLEY: Yo Murph, I don't think bright boy here understands the situation...

MURPHY: I think you're right. You don't know about budget cuts, do ya bright boy?

STRANGER: Well, I do work for non-profit…

         MURPHY PUNCHES HIM IN THE STOMACH

STRANGER: Do you have to do that?

MURPHY: PBS Watchin’ son of a bitch.

O'MALLEY: You got somethin’ again free speech?

MURPHY: Here’s yer tote bag boy!

         HITS HIM AGAIN

STRANGER: I don’t think hitting me is speaking...

MURPHY: Talking semantics now huh? You a big college man?

STRANGER: Junior College man, on Pell grants.

O'MALLEY: (Looking over to desk) Don't forget the tape dispenser...

STRANGER: It's missing the little wheel.

MURPHY and O'MALLEY: Leave it.

O'MALLEY: You know, I don't think bright boy knows what budget cuts do to a guy...

STRANGER: It was too early in the scene to reuse the 'non-profit' joke. Which was kinda lame anyway. So I went for something they'd appreciate:

         Oh yeah? What's it to ya?!

         MURPHY SHOVES STRANGER INTO O'MALLEY"S' WAITING ARMS.

MURPHY: You don't want to get him riled, bright boy.

STRANGER: Found the level of the room.

O'MALLEY: That's his problem; he's never been on the office beat. He's never seen two guys on a filing deadline fight over one copier. Never seen a guy reach ‘ta punch in his department code, only to find out that there's no paper, no FREAKIN' paper! Some boyo used the last and didn't check, didn't refill, didn't say a damn thing, just walked!

MURPHY: Come on man...

O'MALLEY: No, the man's doesn't know. The man's gonna learn!

MURPHY: Come on man, maybe you should get some sleep.

O'MALLEY: No! I wanna talk to the man! He's gonna learn! One ream of paper, that's all I want! That's it. I've tried all night to raise it Murph! One lousy ream…

MURPHY: I know, but it's not in the budget.

STRANGER: Do we have to go to paper tonight?

MURPHY: Come on, I've spent the whole night following Mal around trying to cheer him up, right Mal?

O'MALLEY: That's it! There's gonna be some truth told here.

MURPHY: Come on Mal…

O'MALLEY: NO! Have we ever told the truth in this precinct? Well, there's gonna be some truth told here tonight!

MURPHY: Not in front of the boy...

O'MAL: No! Truth now! Is it really such a good idea to cut cops and firemen instead of oil subsidies? Is it? No equipment, no Kevlar... I have to hang around the morgue just to get my bullets back! 

MURPHY: Mal…

O'MALLEY: No, he doesn't know the truth, the man's gotta know! You know why I'm here, going through your desk right now?

STRANGER: Filler?

O'MALLEY: No, I'll tell you why... Cutbacks Stranger! That's why you couldn't get a hold of us for those two months. We didn't have a squad car! All the money for tax cuts, none for cars...

STRANGER: You should talk to your congressman...

O'MALLEY: I saw my congressman. I campaigned for him. Did he remember me?

STRANGER: Yes?

O'MALLEY: No! Me made sit around all day, then when I did see him, he didn't remember. Left me there, in his office, alone. Then I took it.

STRANGER: His pen, right?

O'MALLEY: No, his tape dispenser. And his scissors, you can never get good scissors anymore.

STRANGER: For spite?

O'MALLEY: No.

STRANGER: Sounds like spite.

O'MALLEY: No, it wasn't spite.

STRANGER: You sure?

O'MALLEY: Yes.

STRANGER: I got an OED around here somewhere.

O'MALLEY: Yes, I'm sure! Anyway, that's why we need the stuff...

MURPHY: Come on Mal...

O'MALLEY: Maybe I should just go away. Go away and never come back.

MURPHY: That might be for the best...

O'MALLEY: Then I looked up, and you know what I saw?

STRANGER: The sky?

O'MALLEY: No! I saw the bulbs were out! Why they got those special track lights for the squadroom I'll never figure out.

MURPHY: That was during the Reagan Administration.

O'MALLET: You gotta special order the bulbs, you can't just buy them off the shelf, and they're always out... Hey, what kind of bulbs you got here?

STRANGER: Uh, well...

O'MALLEY: Nah, wrong wattage. The constant scratching, digging for just on more piece of paper, one more paper clip. You never get the time to just sit and smoke...

MURPHY: Headquarters is non-smoking...

         MURPHY STARTS TO LEAD O'MALLEY TO THE DOOR. O'MALLEY TURNS TO THE STRANGER.

O'MALLEY: Do you understand...?

STRANGER: Hey, I'm in non-profit... (See? timing is everything)

O'MALLEY: Then you understand...

STRANGER: Sure, I've unbent a few nails in my time…

O'MALLEY: He understands...

MURPHY: Come Mal, don't look back.

O'MALLEY: He understands...

MURPHY: Forget about it Mal, it's copier paper...

         O'MALLEY EXITS. MURPHY TURNS BACK.

MURPHY: Sorry. If we could just get enough supplies together, we'd be free and clear...

O'MALLEY: (OFFSTAGE) Free and clear...

STRANGER: It's ok, nobody dast blame this man...

         MURPHY GLARES AT HIM 

STRANGER: Hey, someone had to say it.

MURPHY: Don't think we've forgotten about that paper, boyo. We saw Whitey leave here and know you’re in deep with one of the biggest paper dealers in this town.

STRANGER: Is that what he does? With the front he puts up? Kinda lame…

MURPHY: You know damn well shamus, you handed off the paper to him. We’re watching you.

STRANGER: Always nice to have an audience.

MURPHY: We'll be back.

STRANGER: Don't leave town

MURPHY: Don't leave... town.

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