What We're Writing - The Play's The Thing

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I'm not ready to show anything from UNTITLED CLARE AND RUSS NUMBER 10 (How's that for a catchy title?) It all seems a little too new and tender, and, perhaps more pertinently, I'm still figuring out the structure, so God knows how much of what I've already gotten down will ever make it in the long run. I have in the past written and tossed up to three book openings before settling on a way forward.

Instead, I'm going to share a cool project I've been working on: a stage adaptation of my (one and only) short story, A Collect for Noonday. For the past three years, the Portland Stage Company, our premiere professional theater, has produced an evening of staged readings from local crime fiction writers. This year, they asked several of us to write something original for the performance.  Rather than a ten-minute short story with a narrator, which is what most of the readings have been in the past, I adapted my short story into a stage play titled Small Town.

It was an exciting creative experience, and it's left me very interested in composing something else for the stage - or even trying my hand at a screenplay, which is, as I understand it, another thing altogether. (If I go for the latter, I'm going to ask for advice from my friend Jeff Cohen, who's been teaching writing for the screen for twenty years.) If you're going to be in southern Maine on February 10, please join Gerry Boyle, Brenda Buchanan, Dick Cass, Paul Doiron and me for the Fourth Annual Crime Writers Staged Reading!

EARLA is in the diner. CLARE FERGUSSON and RUSS VAN ALSTYNE enter.

EARLA: There you two are. I was beginning to worry.

CLARE: Worry? Why?

EARLA: It's Wednesday, in't it? If I don't have the chief of police and the Episcopal minister in my diner for lunch Wednesday, I figure there's trouble going on somewheres in town. Here, sit down, I saved your table.

RUSS ushers CLARE to their seats.

EARLA: How's Mrs. Van Alstyne?

RUSS: Fine, Earla. Busy. Thanks for asking.

EARLA (to the audience): If the reverend was my daughter, I'd tell her you’re too pretty and too smart to be settling for once-a-week lunch with a man who won’t never leave his wife, dear.

EARLA: I’ll go fetch your coffees. EARLA exits

JIM CAMERON enters

CAMERON: Reverend Fergusson. How are you? (CAMERON drops a file folder on the table.)

CLARE: Mayor Cameron?

CAMERON: I won’t interrupt your meal. I just need to touch base with Russ. How is everything at St. Alban’s? Any more Sunday parking problems?

CLARE: No, it’s fine. You’re here to see Chief Van Alstyne?

EARLA enters

CAMERON: It’s Wednesday. (to EARLA) Can I get a Coke? (to CLARE) Easier to catch him here than to try to track him down on while he’s patrolling. (EARLA sets two coffee cups and three menus by RUSS) Oh, I’m not staying. (He picks up a menu and begins reading)

RUSS (hands CLARE a coffee cup) Reverend Fergusson.

CLARE: Thank you, Chief Van Alstyne.

CAMERON (to the audience): For godsakes, why can't they just call each other by their first names? Everyone knows what's going on.

PAUL FOUBERT enters

FOUBERT: There you are, m’dear! I was going over to the church and then I realized, she’s not going to be there on a Wednesday afternoon.

CLARE: Does someone need me at the nursing home?

FOUBERT: No, no, no. I want to float an idea past you. (to EARLA) Cup of tea, please. No, make it a pot. I can still get a pot, can’t I?

EARLA: You sure can.

EARLA exits

RUSS: Jim. What are you doing here? Do you know Paul Foubert?

CAMERON: Of course I do. Half the nursing home budget comes from town taxes. (to RUSS) Look, the roadworks building’s been broken into and vandalized again.

RUSS: When?

CAMERON: Emory McFarland called me an hour ago.

RUSS: He’s supposed to call us, not you. Last time the damn fool washed away any possible evidence before we ever got there.

CLARE: This happened before?

RUSS: About a month ago.

EARLA enters. She distributes tea FOUBERT and a soda to CAMERON, then takes out her order pad.

EARLA: You folks know what you want?

RUSS nods toward CLARE

CLARE: Chili and fries.

FOUBERT: That sounds good. Make it two.

RUSS: The usual.

EARLA: Mr. Mayor?

CAMERON (buries his face in the menu.) I hadn’t really planned on staying.

FOUBERT (to CLARE) I wanted to ask if you would consider--

CLARE is shaking a huge amount of sugar into her mug.

 FOUBERT: Good Lord. Why don’t you just order a bottle of Karo syrup?

CLARE: No caffeine.

RUSS, amused, reaches for the sugar himself as she puts it back. Their fingers touch. They jerk away.

CLARE: If I would consider...?

FOUBERT: Consider doing an ecumenical service for the nursing home residents.

CLARE: You mean, separate from my individual visits?

FOUBERT: Exactly. I’ve read a fascinating study on the health benefits of community worship. I’ve seen how people respond after a visit from you, or from Rev. Inman or Dr. McFeely. I’d like to get something started that our patients who don’t have a prior church connection can participate in. As a group.

CLARE: Huh. An ecumenical service. I have to admit I like the idea...

RUSS: And you have so much spare time to devote to it, too.

CLARE makes a face at him.

 What do you think, dear readers? Do you like live theater? And have you ever been energized by trying a new sort of creative endeavor?

A Night at the Theater

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Last night, I had the extraordinary experience of seeing my characters come to life in a stage reading. Now, as someone who studied and worked as an actress (about 800 years ago) I'm no stranger to stage readings, and I've seen my share of amateur ones in recent years as each of my children has participated in the Maine Young Playwrights Festival. But this one was a first for both the author participants and the Portland Stage Company, our city's professional (Equity) theater.

In conjunction with their latest production, Arsenic and Old Lace, the PSC decided to have a readings-and-conversation night with five Maine mystery authors. The whole thing was kicked off and masterfully organized by our own Brenda Buchanan.

Amazingly, the crowd turned out. It was almost a full house! Now, the fact the theater put on a wine and beer reception with delicious Otto's pizza might have had something to do with it...

...But I think there were a lot of crime fiction lovers who would have come anyway.

 The amazing cast of actors assembled on the stage to read from Brenda's Quick Pivot, Straw Man by Gerry Boyle, The Poacher's Son by Paul Doiron, One Was A Soldier (that's mine) and a suitably scary short story by Chris Holm.

 I didn't get any pictures of the performances because I'm too darn polite to whip my phone out in the theater. But it was an impressive array of talent, both from the actors and from my fellow authors. It was interesting - none of the selections we chose (each author could submit up to three pieces for the director to review) were particularly...mysterious. All of them were character studies, with two or more people connecting - or not - for a moment. I swear, the excerpt from The Poacher's Son could make an excellent one act play with very few changes.

 Afterwards, we answered questions from the audience...

 ...on stage and off.

Fingers crossed, the PSC will be doing this event again. There are so many exceptional crime fiction writers in Maine, wouldn't it be great if all of us could get a turn in the limelight?

Many thanks to the wonderful actors who brought a part of One Was A Soldier to life: Bess Welden as Anne Ellis,

Elizabeth Freeman as Clare Fergusson,





and Whip Hubley (who managed to convey a man wearing only a towel while still fully dressed) as Russ Van Alstyne.