Pro Tip: Be sure to thank the “fucking dick and asshole” in your life.
I finished reading the book Slow AF Run Club by Martinus Evans this morning. I enjoyed it and recommend it to anyone who is interested in trying something new. Doesn’t have to be running ~ but I think it should be something intense. But this isn’t a book review. I’m writing because of Evans’ Acknowledgement section.
One of my favorite things to do when I complete any book is read the Acknowledgements. I look to see whose names I recognize. I pay attention to who gets their last name published versus those who are referred to by their first names or nicknames. I compare and contrast the acknowledgements of independent authors versus best selling authors versus famous authors.
It’s fascinating. Some are grateful to dozens of people and specific publishing teams and fill up three pages. Others write a single sentence of gratitude. Most say a cheeky version of “I can’t remember everyone but you know who you are!” Many thank a spouse, their kids or significant other. Ghostwriters and early manuscript readers are usually (intentionally) buried in the acknowledgements, a practice that always amuses me. God frequently gets a shout out, but not as much as editors and agents.
But in the hundreds (if not thousands) of acknowledgements I’ve read over the years, until this morning, I have never seen anyone thank a “fucking dick.”
Evans wrote, “I also want to shout out to the doctor who had the audacity to call me fat, laughed at me, and told me that I was going to die. I still think that you’re a fucking dick and asshole for saying what you said to me…”
Why haven’t I thought about acknowledging the fucking dicks in my life? I know several and I have been pissed at them for years. Decades even. Why haven’t I simply thanked them and used the energy from the doomed relationship to do something good for myself? For my family? For freakin’ society?
It’s not too late…
***
I just spent a few minutes writing my own “acknowledgements.” It didn’t take as long as I thought it would. It also didn’t rile me up. I expected the process to upset me, but I actually found the act of acknowledging simultaneously invigorating and peaceful. I “thanked” more than ten enemies. Similar to Martinus Evans, a few were doctors and nurses and I couldn’t remember their names either.
I’ve read numerous books and articles about forgiveness but the concept has been hard for me to grasp. Until now. Thank the fucker, forget their name, then go do something good. Bada bing, bada boom.
Thanks for reading. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go for a slow AF (and barefoot) run! -Connie
The view from our site. I can see my enemies coming!
Greetings from Rock Island State Park in northern Wisconsin. Jesse and I are camping at the place that alternates between being “our favorite place on Earth” and “Hell.” It all depends on whether or not we get stuck with loud neighbors. So far, so good in that department. Phew. All we can hear right now is the wind.
We got here a few hours ago, set up our site, ate some chips and hopped in the tent. It’s not even 8:30 p.m. and we’re tucked in for the night. No campfire this evening because it’s too windy.
We’re on a cliff that overlooks Lake Michigan. Stunning views. I recently read a book (Siri, Who Am I? by Sam Tschida)where one of the characters said he liked views that overlook large bodies of water because “you can see your enemies coming.”
I agree.
To be clear, the wind is not my enemy. The wind is my therapist, knocking all kinds of good sense into me.
Lake Michigan, thanks to the wind, has been tossing up huge waves with whitecaps for most of the day. The current is so strong that the weather authorities issued a “beach hazard.” That means no one was or is allowed in or on the waters. Well, maybe they’re “allowed” but it’s certainly not advised. The current could easily pull a swimmer under and the waves would cause certain shipwreck. We saw it happen here last summer. Somebody stayed out on the water past the warning and, in the morning, the boat was on its side, totally demolished on the rocks. It looked awful.
The wind is racing around us at 30 mph. Between the wind, tent and the lake, it’s noisy. There is a lot of…flapping.
I just checked. According to the “decibel meter” app on my iPhone, the loudness levels from the flapping are commensurate with a running vacuum cleaner or food blender. Hey, who doesn’t want to be surrounded by that when they’re camping on a remote island?
At least it’s still light outside. That means I’m not scared but I probably will be once darkness sets in. Camping makes me feel safe and alive…until it doesn’t. But dealing with my fears is part of what I like about camping.
We don’t camp very often. Once or twice a summer and it’s always hit or miss depending on our camping “neighbors.” Most of the time we have quiet neighbors but we’ve been stuck next to some obnoxious partiers a couple times. Now when we camp, when I see my enemies coming with their multiple tents, coolers filled with beer, lighter fluid and loud music, we immediately pack up and leave. I’m sure there are others who would put up a fight, but not us.
Sometimes I’m not sure why we risk our precious free time on camping.
The view from our tent.
Well, I know why I risk it. I love reading and writing while I camp. There’s something about it that makes me feel silly, serious and free all at once. And I love camping coffee. We got a new coffee pot for this trip and we can’t wait to break it in tomorrow morning. Oh, and I love the feeling of being outside for several days in a row. It unspools all my tension. Even though it’s loud, all this tent-flapping seems to be batting the stress out of me. Amazing. Next time you see me I’m gonna be hella peaceful.
The darkness has set in. It’s close to 10:00 p.m. I’m going to have to zip up the tent. The rain will be here soon and I’ll probably start “hearing footsteps” outside our tent. I always do. I always imagine there’s a creep with a hunchback running around our campsite, sniffing things he shouldn’t be sniffing. Generally speaking, I have a pretty good imagination, but it really comes alive at night when I’m camping.
Thanks for reading. Writing this has made me sleepy. Hopefully it has a relaxing effect on you, too. -Connie
P.S. If you’d like to subscribe to my (free) blog, please enter your email below. Also: This blog links to my Facebook page but I don’t have social media on my phone and cannot see or respond to any Facebook comments. You can “like” or comment below on WordPress and I will see that. But there is no pressure to do any of that. I am simply grateful for readers! ❤
Today’s prompt: Who is your favorite author and why?
Sometimes actors are asked, “What’s your favorite role?” and they’ll answer: “The role I’m currently playing.” Younger actors might toss in a grand Shakespearean role to prove they have the chops.
It might go something like this:
INTERVIEWER: What’s been your favorite role to perform?
ACTOR: (pretends he’s never heard that question before) Oh, that’s a hard question. (looks lost in thought for a second) If I’m being honest…and I know this will sound cheesy…I’d have to say it’s….it’s…the role I’m currently playing!
INTERVIEWER: Fascinating!
ACTOR: (laughs) Ha ha ha, yes. (lowers voice to whisper) But I absolutely adored the time I played King Lear in the Finger Lakes. Such fond memories.
End of scene
***
BLOGANUARY PROMPT-WRITER: Who’s your favorite author?
BLOGGER: Oh that’s so tough. Let me think. If I’m being honest…and I know this will sound cheesy…I’d have to say the author I’m currently reading! (pauses, lowers voice) But I loved Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. Such fond memories.
End of scene
***
In the words of Natalie Portman, “No more questions.”
Books we handed out at the Winter Solstice Poetry Caroling event in December.
There’s an old Latin phrase that serves as a mantra for artists who wish to keep it fresh. It’s “ridi, writi, looki.” It means “I read, I wrote, I saw.” Every year, I compile a list of the books I read, the shows I saw in person and the plays I wrote. Here they are.
BOOKS
susan, linda, nina & cokie by Lisa Napoli
Ida B. the Queen by Michelle Duster
Nothing Personal by James Baldwin
Reasons to Stay Alive by Matt Haig
The Midnight Library by Matt Haig
Smile, The Story of a Face by Sarah Ruhl
Mingling with the Enemy by Jeanne Martinet
Eurydice by Sarah Ruhl
Good Neighbors by Sarah Langan
Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates
The Black Panther Party: A Graphic Novel History by David F. Walker and Marcus Kwame Anderson (Illustrations)
Beautiful Things: A Memoir by Hunter Biden
I Hate Running and You Can Too: How to Get Started, Keep Going, and Make Sense of an Irrational Passion by Brendan Leonard
People Who Love to Eat Are Always the Best People: And Other Wisdom by Julia Child
Dearly by Margaret Atwood
Habitat Threshold by Craig Santos Perez
Owed by Joshua Bennett
Let Me Tell You What I Mean by Joan Didion
Selected Poems by Arthur Gregor
The Shining Moments: The words and moods of John F. Kennedy by JFK, edited by Gerald C. Gardner with an introduction by Adlai E. Stevenson
Halfway Home: Race, Punishment, and the Afterlife of Mass Incarceration by Reuben Jonathan Miller
The Book of Delights by Ross Gay
Building a Movement to End the New Jim Crow: an organizing guide by Daniel Hunter
A Libertarian Walks into a Bear: The Utopian Plot to Liberate an American Town by Matthew Hongoltz-Hetling
The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander
Appalachian Elegy: Poetry and Place by bell hooks
Just Under Clouds by Melissa Sarno
The Perfect Nine: The Epic of Gikuyu and Mumbi by Ngugu Wa Thiong’o
R.U.R. by Karel Capek
Song for a Whale by Lynne Kelly
Letterman, The Last Giant of Late Night by Jason Zinoman
Appalachian Reckoning: A Region Responds to Hillbilly Elegy – Edited by Anthony Harkins and Meredith McCarroll
Blubber by Judy Bloom
The Elephant in the Room: One Fat Man’s Quest to Get Smaller in a Growing America by Tommy Tomlinson
SHOWS
It was a relief and joy to see live theatre and dance. Even ordering tickets is fun! I will never take seeing live productions for granted again. That’s not just a new year’s resolution–that’s a lifetime promise. Looking forward to seeing more theatre in 2022 and here’s what I saw in 2021:
These Shining Lives by Melanie Marnich at Winnishiek Playhouse in Freeport, IL. Years ago I read Radium Girls by Kate Moore. Though written after Marnich wrote the play, I read the novel first and it inspired me to see the play.
Macbeth by William Shakespeare at Rock Valley College Starlight Theatre in Rockford, IL. This was a sprawling outdoor, nighttime production. Side note: The first time I saw Macbeth was in 1999 at Jungle Theatre in Minneapolis, inside.
Eurydice by Sarah Ruhl at West Side Show Room in Rockford, IL. After I saw the play, I read Ruhl’s script and her memoir “Smile” about her experience with Bell’s Palsy.
My daughters just before going in to see Eurydice, their first in-person play since February 2020.
Laughterreise by Fourth Coast Ensemble at The Annoyance Theatre in Chicago This performance included classical music, opera, poetry and sketch comedy.
Expanding Universe at Ruth Page Center for the Arts in Chicago (50-year Anniversary Celebration / dance in October).
Jeeves Saves the Day – Margaret Raether’s adaptation from P. G. Wodehouse’s “Jeeves” story / stories at Artists’ Ensemble in Rockford.
Spring dance recital at Ruth Page. Jocelyn is the dancer on your right.
I also saw my kids’ spring, summer and intensive dance recitals, also in person at Ruth Page, but can’t remember the names of those shows, sorry.
PLAYS
I have been writing plays for more than 20 years. My first play was the 10-minute mother-daughter drama, The Mason Jar. It received a staging at Stages Theatre Company in Minneapolis, a staged reading at Chicago Dramatists and was a finalist at the Turnip 15-Minute Play Festival in New York City. I have lost count of how many plays I have written since then but I know I will never forget my first. Here’s what I wrote in 2021:
The Dumbwaiter is a 10-minute absurd comedy about hospice and ageism and it was read at Naked Angels Tuesdays@9 Chicago in February.
What Comes Next is a 10-minute drama about homelessness and it received a staged reading at Chicago Dramatists’ 48-Hour St. Patrick’s Day Play Festival in March.
I finished another draft of the one-hour play Feverland. It’s about Al Capone as seen through the female gaze. It’s written for an all-woman (non-binary) cast, including Al, and challenges our society’s obsession with gangster life. It received a staged reading with the First Draft program at Chicago Dramatists in March. I am still working on it and I hope to workshop it in person in 2022.
I conceived and directed the Quarantanniversary at Naked Angels Tuesdays@9 Chicago, also in March. I wrote interstitial dialogue as well as the character “Rhonda Ross.” For this event, 40 artists showed up as their twin and stayed in character for the entire night. This means that the writers wrote as their twins, actors acted as their twins, the musician performed as her twin and the hosts led the meeting as their twins. It was a vibrant and cerebral evening of thoroughly unique theatre.
I wrote and tested six episodes of Chicago-based mock show The Stormy, Husky, Brawling Show at Naked Angels Tuesdays@9 Chicago, April through May.
I wrote and produced five more episodes of The Stormy, Husky, Brawling Show in June and July. Episodes aired on Facebook and YouTube. My intention with this project was to create a show that bridged pandemic online theatre to in-person theatre. We filmed some of it on Zoom, the outdoor scenes in person, and the studio scenes with a skeleton crew of fully vaccinated, socially-distanced actors. We stayed safe, created new art and moved toward the new frontier of theatre. You can read more about it here.
I wrote the 10-minute ghost drama Dora’s Bait Shop in October. It was read at Naked Angels Tuesdays@9 Chicago as part of the Halloween show.
Dora’s Bait Shop is a 10-minute play for three actors. It’s about a hunting accident.
I wrote the 10-minute filicide drama Natural Life in November. It was read at Naked Angels Tuesdays@9 Chicago.
I wrote the 10-minute holiday drama The Lunker of the Lake in December. It was read at Naked Angels Tuesdays@9 Chicago.
I also wrote this blog and organized two outdoor artistic events that were free and open to the public. In October, I conceived and directed the Silent Hiking & Writing Retreat where writers met, hiked in silence, wrote and shared their work with the group. And in December, I conceived and directed Winter Solstice Poetry Caroling. Instead of Christmas Caroling, we caroled our friends, neighbors and family with winter-themed poems. Both “pandemic proof” events were artistic, intelligent and fun. I plan to continue these events into 2022 and beyond.
I owe a debt of gratitude to Naked Angels Tuesdays@9 Chicago for giving me the space to test and share my new work. This is also where serve as music and comedy director. If you’re a writer or actor or musician or comedian, and you’re curious but skeptical about checking it out, let me tell you something: This isn’t your ordinary theatre clique! It’s inclusive, safe and fun. It’s a mecca for writers, actors, directors and musicians. It is brilliantly led by creative directors Joshua Fardon and Patricia Mario. Check us out! Or if you live in New York (the original!), Los Angeles or Miami, check out those branches of Naked Angels because they are excellent, too.
Thank you for reading! Happy New Year! -Connie
P.S. “Ridi, writi, looki” is not really a Latin phrase. I made it up.
Constance Kuntz 