Now that our playwright Mel Nieves isn’t rewriting By the Dawn’s Early Light, he has time to reflect and write about about his writerly process. 
As the final weekend of July approaches, we (the casts and creative team) just finished a second run-through of both plays. The script for “Los Embrujados” has been locked-in (meaning, set in stone – no more re-writes) for about a week or so, except for a dash of some Spanish thrown in for flavoring here and there. It’s been pretty much sitting back and taking in the actors as they slowly-but-surely make the roles their own, and listening to Walter’s (Walter Hoffman our director) insightful guiding of the actors as they search for the proper tone for the story they are telling and experiencing.
With “Miidnight Mass,” it’s been a bit a little different. For the most part, the script has been locked in for a about a week or so, but something was bothering me. In fact, it bothered me so much that I would wake up in the middle of the night with a single thought: “What was missing?” It wasn’t until watching a documentary about the war in Afghanistan on Netflix one late, late night that a light finally flickered into my brain.
Though the additional snippet of dialogue was not large in word count, it was large as to the impact it had for the scene and for the actors. It is always a satisfying feeling to have actors look at additional dialogue and not smile because it’s simply more lines, but to see them smile and say, “Thank you” for writing the note that they were struggling to reach and find.
During this last run-through of both plays, I couldn’t properly listen to them in their entirety. My thoughts were with the new lines that I had added for a very important scene in “Midnight Mass” and that’s all I was waiting for. I had the new lines written on a piece of paper and as the scene approached and the sequence began I listened and hoped that these new words would work. And with our wonderful actors, Alicia Fitzgerald and Kevin Prowse, the new lines hit the proper note and tone. Afterwards the actors in unison said: “That’s exactly what we needed. Thank you.”
So what happens now when all the re-writes have been completed and the scripts are now locked, so to speak… is the playwright still needed? Do I simply say: “See ya on opening night!” I don’t know about other playwrights, but this playwright isn’t going away anytime soon. And to be honest, it’s not a matter of protecting my work, but it’s a matter of helping the actors when they are stuck or in need of clarification regarding a moment in text or simply a line of dialogue. It’s funny the majority of the questions from the actors are along the lines of “What were you feeling when you work this?” rather than what the character I’m writing about is going through. It has also been interesting meeting with the set and sound designer as they ask me my thoughts regarding certain things that I describe in the script.
It’s funny: a theatre rehearsal space is my favorite place to be at. I can spend hours and days in that room with actors and writers going over things in a text or just talking shop. In this space is where I feel more myself, more intellectually and spiritually confident. All writing I believe is to some extent autobiographical and there ‘s a lot of me in both scripts –only it’s been more so with “Midnight Mass” (not to take anything away from “Los Embrujados,” which I am most proud of).
It’s been a very interesting process with “Midnight Mass,” and I believe that reason is because it was a play that I originally wrote almost five years ago. I’m obviously not the same person or playwright that I was five years ago and it’s been an interesting and most fascinating of collaborations between the voice I had then, with the voice I have now. I think it’s been a good collaboration between the two voices. I can see the difference in my writing style between then and now and I believe both voices have blended well with each other.
I hope when you come see the plays, you yourself will think so too.