About whoisjanefisher

Ghostwriter, lover of the arts, and wannabe world traveler.

In The Night – Screening at NYMF!

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In The Night - Screening at NYMF!

Screening for the first time ever as a special part of the New York Musical Theatre Festival this summer!

Screening Saturday, July 21st
7 PM and 9 PM
Theatre at St. Clements
423 West 46th Street
(Between 9th & 10th Avenues)
New York, NY 10036

Tickets are available here: https://web.ovationtix.com/trs/pr/914175

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We’re going to NYMF!

The New York Musical Theatre Festival has selected
In The Night as a special feature to be screened at the festival this summer in New York City!
We’re coming to the big screen!

The New York Musical Theatre Festival (NYMF) serves as the preeminent launching pad for a stylistically, thematically, and culturally diverse array of new musicals, and provides a way for artists to mount professional productions that reach their peers, industry leaders and musical theatre audiences. It discovers, nurtures, and promotes promising artists at all stages of development, and seeks to inspire diverse audiences through vibrant, accessible, powerful new work.

The NYMF has turned out such hits as Next to Normal, Altar Boyz, [title of show], and The Great American Trailer Park Musical. We are honored and excited to be a special part of this year’s lineup!

SAVE THE DATE!

ONE NIGHT ONLY!
Saturday July 21st
Theatre at St. Clements
New York City

Ticket information
COMING SOON!

Flight.

JaneSome musings on the week after my birthday.

When I look back to where I was a year ago and where I am today, well, the first question that popped to mind was really, what’s the difference? Sure, I’m a year older and the names and faces of my problems have changed some, but overwhelmingly the questions at the root of them are still the same. And there’s still Graham. Sometimes I think I really need to either give him the boot or tell him to commit…… but ultimatums never really work, do they? I suppose because, “ultimately”, there’s still you at the center of the issue, never taking a side one way or another, just letting someone else’s stomping tip your scales in the next direction.

And which direction is that? A circle can be deceptive. It seems like you’re going to new angles and directions, but really it’s all just different flavors of one arc. You’re not really going anywhere at all, except perhaps closer and closer to the center of whatever you’re winding yourself around, making it increasingly difficult to extract yourself and chance course. But sometimes, by the time you notice that, you’ve completed a few rotations and are well settled into the cycle.

The circles match the path of the earth, so whose to say when they’re wrong and when they’re right? But what I want to know is, if there is a way to travel in circles, where each circle gets larger than the last? Where you experience more with each rotation instead of less? Where—instead of becoming more firmly pulled down by gravity—if one can reach closer and closer, year after year, to the stars?

I suppose then the danger becomes being flung wildly off-course and shooting off in a single straight line, forever. But then again, it seems that in that case you would finally be flying.

Why not?

JaneThe thing about spring is it just makes me want to dance. What’s wrong with that, you say? Well nothing, unless you’re strapped to a desk typing at a rate of 70 wpm. And why does it always seem that the most beautiful weather comes with the most excruciating deadlines?

Still, there was some good news. I heard from my friend in Greece, and she told me all about this incredible program where you travel the countryside putting on shows. Sounds like a dream job! I’m so impressed with all she has done since graduation. I feel like while I’ve hidden behind a computer screen and shrunk from life, she’s gone out and grabbed adventure and her dreams by the reins and told them where to go! It’s inspiring to see, really.  But it does make me feel like a little chicken.

Something she said to me really got me thinking. And it was a pretty simple thing to say, too. When I told her I was so proud of her accomplishments, but could never do them myself, she simply said, “Why not?”

Well. . . why not?

All Dressed Up

JaneIt’s always at this time of year I catch myself switching from secretly looking at pictures of wedding dresses to covertly flipping through pictures of red carpet gowns. Oh sure, I pretend not to care about all that garbage, but let’s face it: I love a good dress.

Growing up, it was so fun to play dress up! Even today, as a culture we’re obsessed with it. But why? Why not?

Adornment. It’s got the word “adore” in it. We all want to be adored, don’t we? It’s tough to admit, and yet I have to admit I do. None of this humility BS—I want to decorate myself in feathers or sequins or pearls and run dancing into the sunset!

But what happens when you get there? I don’t know. I wonder, if Graham and I ever get married—will I still look at pictures of wedding dresses? Will I still watch “Say Yes To The Dress”?

Do the actresses who parade the red carpet the Academy Awards still long for the next time? Once you get there, once you are the muse, what do you long for? I wonder, if I ever got there whether it would be enough. Or if I would be compelled to want something else.

I hope if I ever do get there, that I won’t just want a bigger, flashier, more expensive adornment. I hope that if I ever get there I’ll want the opposite—the gift of silence: nothing but trees, sky, and the crashing of waves upon the shore.

But that’s probably bogus and romantic of me to imagine. Probably I’d want the dress.

Feburuary 13th.

So here it is, Valentine’s Eve again. Or as Barney Stinson calls it, “Desperation Day.” Thanks, Barney. And it’s not that I’m lonely, I mean I do have someone. He’s just not here. And I know I’m not going to see him, we agreed not to do these “stupid commercial holidays.”

So why am I sitting here, staring at the DVD cover to my copy of When Harry Met Sally, not even remotely fooling myself?

He didn’t say it, but I know he’s spending the day with his wife. As I suppose he should. If I was his wife, or a wife at all for that matter. . . I’d expect to see my husband on Valentine’s Day. Even if I knew he was a high-fallutin’ intellectual elitist snob who wouldn’t know romance if it kicked him in the face.

I shouldn’t call him. I shouldn’t call. And I won’t. But it’s not going to keep me from wishing he would.  “I think I should hear her out,” he said. That’s what he said to me the last time I brought it up. “She wants to talk to me about us. . . and I think I should hear her out.”

That was six months ago. How have I become this passive? What did she say? Did she even say anything? Or maybe the whole point is that there’s nothing to say. It will either happen or it won’t. He’ll either leave her or she doesn’t. And I’ll either sit here, or. . .

Or what? Sit here? Is there an alternative?

I clearly need to make one.

The next story.

JaneIt’s around this time of year I get to thinking. . . what use have I made of the past year? And the answer I get from myself is usually, “You did pretty well, Jane. Could have done better, but look what you had to work with.”

Well…….. mediocrity no more! I picked up the pamphlet for that acting school in Greece again. Just holding it in my fingertips gave me goosebumps, like I could feel the energy of the program leaping right off the page into my veins. It made me elated, excited—gave me a fleeting feeling of empowerment that I could do it; that I could do anything.

Of course, like all fleeting feelings of empowerment, this one was quickly replaced by gut-punching fear. But unlike with other bouts of gut-punching fear, this time I held my ground. I marked my calendar with the application date. I’m going to do it. Or at least try. I’ll never regret giving it a try.

One nagging question already, however. Who’s going to write a recommendation for me? Yikes. Certainly not Graham. He’d flip out if he knew I was so much as thinking of leaving, let alone leaving him without a new manuscript. Maybe I’ll have time to write both, my application and the next story. I should probably let the dust settle from the holidays, before I make any sudden movements.

Actually, on second thought, I should probably take action before inertia slows my heart rate back down again. I need to choose whether the next story I create will be his or my own.

All Tied Up.

When I was in my twenties, I thought that in my thirties I would have all the answers. That I would have figured it out by now.

Now that I’m here I have to laugh. Have I figured out anything except that I haven’t figured it out yet? Does that even count?

Heh. Maybe that I analyze so much is what’s holding me back. How do you stop analyzing? Certainly not by writing about it. Maybe I should stop doing this! Maybe I should take up watching sports?

Or what if the point is that we never figure it out, that we’re always just pushing forward. Sometimes the current is with you; sometimes you go upstream. All I know is I’m over 30. Come on . . . something!

I know, I know…. It’s just a number. But still! When am I going to feel like I’ve grown up and gotten it all together? Where’s the nice little bow to wrap around my life?

I hear they were having a discount on bows at Target. I should probably just go pick some up to stick around my apartment, after all, it’s the holidays. . . no one would think it strange.

I remembered why I don’t like it.

JaneSo the universe is putting me to the test yet again. I recently took yet another ghost writing job. So close, yet so far from acting.

I took the job, feeling like I NEED THE MONEY!!!

Well a few days into it, I remembered why I don’t like it, how my boss keeps me in a repressed little box, and is at this point just utterly degrading my full potential. His version of being direct is being ungrateful, while I’m performing miracles making wine out of water with 24 hour turn-arounds and he is still focused so hard on what’s wrong or could potentially be wrong that he makes you feel incompetent while all you are doing is the best you can, with the resources he has chosen to give to you. I’ve asked for better, he says no….apparently doesn’t understand the concept you get what you pay for, and the icing on the cake…is the few little things he tries to make me wrong for, was Actually in REALITY right & efficient, it just wasn’t HIS WAY, and I’m being made to deal with his fears, and anxieties for making promises to his client that HE can’t live up to. YET I’M AUTHENTIC IN MINE!

And this time I know it’s not just me. It’s time to be the “stars” we are meant to be!!!

And I’m finally promising myself, NO MORE! I’m walking through the terror of my final test.

And so I’m throwing my hands up in the air and asking whatever is out there….”tell me, what now?”

Please, give me a sign.