So we have all been there.

You are writing, and this amazing, lyrical, poetic, gorgeous writing spews forth from your consciousness, and you are excited out of your mind how you have created such amazing work! You feel like you are the writer you always believed yourself to be! Your time has come!

"Oh my God, I am a genius!"

So as you continue writing your play, you keep referring back to this amazing, lyrical, poetic, gorgeous writing, hoping it will give you inspiration to continue to write amazing, lyrical, poetic, gorgeous dialogue, characters and more! You love these pages so much. They are the essence of who you are as a playwright. You hope that reading these pages over again will give you more divine inspiration to continue to be the writer you always believed yourself to be.

Ay, there's the rub.

When I was writing THE PEOPLE IN MY HIPS, my one man show about how I developed PTSD and more from training in Yoga, I had a number of pages, passages, narrations that I thought were profound. They were amazing, lyrical, poetic, and gorgeous! I loved them them so much!! In my mind, they were the essence of the best that I can write.

But as we got into production of THE PEOPLE IN MY HIPS, I realized that in order for the show to work, it needed to race faster and faster towards it's dramatic conclusion, and it needed to run under 90 minutes. Much of my amazing, lyrical, poetic, gorgeous writing was in the latter half of my play...

So, with great pain..... I CUT MOST OF IT.

I cut my best writing right out of my play!

Why? Because it didn't fit into the overall through line, pacing and direction of the PRODUCTION!

You always have to go back to the fact that your play is written to be ALIVE! And in that aliveness, there are some elements like pacing, through line and run time that don't apply or don't show up on paper.

Theatre is alive, and you need to be consciously aware of that as you are writing.

Sometimes in order to produce a great play, you need to KILL YOUR DARLINGS - those pages which you love that don't serve the overall production.

And it hurts.

It hurts bad.

But when you get a review like this, it makes it feel a whole lot better!

“THE PEOPLE IN MY HIPS is one of the most extraordinary pieces of theatre I have seen on or Off-Broadway in years. Mr. Wolf’s script is nearly flawless in its eloquence and is one of those rare pieces of work that reminds us of our common humanity. Mr. Wolf’s one-man performance is exquisite, inspiring, courageous and beautifully constructed. I laughed even as I was moved to tears. See THE PEOPLE IN MY HIPS soon. Because you will want to see it again.”

- Lise Avery, Anything Goes!! Internationally Syndicated Radio -

But my PRETTY DARLINGS weren't lost to the world. I did something fun to save them.

After the first production of THE PEOPLE IN MY HIPS, I took the play, and put all of the cut passages and pages I loved back into it, and turned it into a self-published book! And people loved it!

In story-telling of any kind, you have to remember that plays are different from short stories which are different from novels.

If you are developing a play, when in production develop the courage, if necessary, to KILL YOUR DARLINGS!

And your play will ROCK!

So today, I decided I would go somewhere new on my daily walk. Usually I get up early and get out by 7 am and go walking down by Hudson River Park along the bike path, but today, it was raining, and rain is not fun for a daily walk, so I decided to bag it, and sleep in.

At about 2 pm, it started to clear up, and while looking out my window at the gray skies and the even grayer Hudson River, I decided that I would take a new route, and walk down 42nd St to the Broadway Theatre District, and see what it looks like at Wednesday matinee time 7 months after Broadway closed due to the Coronavirus Pandemic.

I threw on my black hoodie for it was cool, and my black mask because... because that is the right thing to do, and I went on my merry way.

As I walked down 42nd St. I felt this sick sadness in my gut. I had heard that much of the Theatre District had closed, but I hadn’t seen it personally, and as you all know, I am the world’s most passionate theatre enthusiast, so I knew this walk was not going to be pretty.

My first casualty of the day was The Theatre Row Diner. My partner Jen and I had spent many a night there after performing, and had many Sunday morning breakfasts there too. But the wild thing about this Diner is it rests on the spot where I produced my first OFF-BROADWAY show My Father, MY Son on Theatre Row in 1990 at The South Street Theatre. Why it was named The South Street Theatre when it was on 42nd St was beyond me, but I loved that theatre, and I was deeply saddened when it was destroyed years later to build a diner.

And now, The Theatre Row Diner is out of business, like Theatre Row. Maybe in some sort of synchronistic world when this THEATRE PAUSE passes, someone will turn the diner back into a theatre, or better yet, into a Diner Theatre. What a concept! Come have breakfast and catch a show!

This is what I do when I am bent out of shape, I make jokes.

I walked by Playwrights Horizons and I was thrilled to see that they had a big colorful LED screen that said something happy:

“Stay safe! We miss you. We’ll be back soon!”

If you look at the picture below, it’s pretty wild.

Are they saying that we should just hang out and get drunk until we can come back?

Yes, I know it must be a picture from one of their performances, but, it was strangely sad and strangely funny at the same time.

Then I saw this:

7 months of Theatre Row being closed - yeah, I would prefer a LED screen with pictures of people drinking. I felt my tears well up and I stuffed them down. If I started to cry, I would never finish my walk, and I didn’t want to be that guy in a black hoodie and black mask crying like a baby walking down 42nd St. Not today.

Today I wanted to see and ACCEPT what is really happening here, or ACCEPT what is NOT really happening here.

Someone told me that in order to lose weight effectively, you need to get on the scale and see exactly how much you weigh. Without knowing your starting point in relation to where you want to be, how are you going to know how to proceed?

I will never give up on theatre, and I will be a part of the solution when it is safe again for theatre to happen in New York City, and if that’s true, I need to see exactly what is happening here in New York City, and not be a weepy baby about it.

So I took a deep breath, and continued on my pilgrimage.

I walked down “THE DISNEY BLOCK,” which is 42nd St between 8th Ave and Times Square, which was once, back in the 70’s and 80’s, a block of XXX movie theatres. Under Rudy Giuliani, who was the mayor of New York from 1994 to 2001, the Times Square area, and especially this block, was DISNEY-A-FIED as the XXX theatres were bought up and the sex shops were regulated.

Today, the DISNEY BLOCK was basically shuttered, other than Madame Tussauds, and believe it or not, Ripley’s Believe It Or NOT, the only other tourist attraction on the block.

I thought to myself:

“Hell, give me those XXX theatres back! Anything, please!”

I walked further down 42nd St, made a left, and I saw Times Square, and my heart stopped.

It was about 2:30 pm Matinee time on a Wednesday.

I sighed a deep and scary sigh.

“Where is everybody? Where are the people? Where are the theatre-goers?” and I had to laugh when I thought this:

“Where are the tourists?”

“Hell, give me back the tourists! And the reason they come here - BROADWAY! WHERE IS EVERYBODY?”

And only one Times Square character: the guy on the stilts dressed as The Statue of Liberty!

Where is Iron Man, and Batman, and, (I can’t believe I am saying this!) Where is THE NAKED COWBOY?

I stood there frozen holding in an avalanche of tears.

“I need to stay present.

I need to stay here and take this in…

and…

…I need to cry!”

The dam broke and it flooded on to my black mask, and I became that guy weeping in Times Square, that guy crying in a black hoodie, staining his black mask with tears, as the Statue of Liberty on stilts watched in silence.

“It’s gone.

Broadway is gone for now. Theatre is gone for now.

That is what I need to accept, so I can move forward.”

Suddenly, I remembered something… something that happened in Times Square, a little over a year ago.

When I was moving out of our theatre on 45th St, it was clear that we had accumulated way too much stuff, and because I was pressed for time, I had to find homes for everything pronto for I didn’t want to throw good stuff away.

It was a Sunday afternoon, right around Matinee time, and I loaded up a cart with about 20 folding chairs from our theatre, and I rolled it two blocks to Time Square.

It was hot, a real NYC August hot, yet still there were hundreds of people crammed into Times Square hanging out, taking pictures with The Naked Cowboy, The Statue of Liberty, Batman, Elmo and more. And then, there were others, theatre goers passionately pushing their way through Times Square to make a Sunday matinee performance.

There was a lean homeless man sitting on the pavement by THE GAP with a paper cup full of change in front of him.

I rolled my cart of folding chairs up to him, and said:

"Hey, would you by any chance want a folding chair for free? Then, you won’t have to sit on the ground.”

And what I saw was like nothing I could ever have imagined. His eyes lit up, he smiled a smile which seemed like the first real smile he smiled in a very long time, and then he said, “Sure, I would love a chair.”

I took one off my cart and handed it to him.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” he said.

He unfolded the chair, set it on his spot, and then turned it to face the Coca-Cola sign above the TKTS booth.

He then sat down on it like a KING on a brand new throne.

And instantly, I became that crazy man weeping like a baby in Times Square.

But I was weeping from joy.

That crazy hot August day, when I gave away the chairs, was one of the greatest days of my life. So many of the homeless were so thankful and happy, some even utterly overjoyed.

And all I did was give them something to sit on, and some respect.

And there I was today, again, weeping like a baby in Times Square, but this time, I was NOT weeping from joy.

I was weeping from the loss of a world I FEAR I will never experience again.

This Times Square was not the Times Square I remembered.

And then, I had the flash of The Time Square chairs.

I immediately stopped crying, and started to laugh through my tear-stained mask, and I am sure The Statue of Liberty thought I was crazy.

And Ms. Liberty was probably right.

I was crazy to get caught up in my FEAR.

I can’t change what has happened, but I can show up and LEAN into this brave new world, and choose compassion and choose to be a part of the solution. Times Square was again reminding me that even little things can make a big difference in your life, and in the lives of others.

A gift of a folding chair, and respect.

So do what you can.

And in that moment, I decided to take lots of pictures, share this story, and stop the weeping.

I took a walk by many of the Broadway theatres and I took pictures of the notices on their doors, in regard to closing, ticket refunds and more.

(Click on images to enlarge!)

And then I swung back around to Times Square and the TKTS booth, where, in my lifetime, I have spent many hours happily waiting on line for inexpensive Broadway tickets.

“WHERE

IS

EVERYBODY?”

“Where the heck is everybody?”

My stomach started to tighten again, as my tear ducts swelled.

I looked to my right and there were chairs and small tables that had been brought in by the city to create an eating area in Duffy Square, right in the middle of Times Square.

I grabbed a chair.

I walked around the TKTS booth, and placed the chair in front of the statue of Father Duffy. I sat down and I stared up at the Coca-Cola sign.

“I’m here in New York City.

And I am not going anywhere.

I am a part of the solution.”

And as I sat there, like a King on a brand new throne looking up at the Coca-Cola sign, I smiled the first real smile I have smiled in a very long time.

Here are some more pictures of my Times Square pilgrimage.

(Click on the smaller images to enlarge.)

You Have To Kill Your Darlings!

Current Tragedy on Broadway

“WHERE

IS

EVERYBODY?”