I'm Still Not Done with My First Full Length Play. And I'm Scared to Revisit It.
There’s no formula for readiness. Just a flood waiting to rise again.
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Hello! Welcome to my weekly newsletter!
Enjoy a dose of my playwriting process,
writing confessions, and all the mess in between.
Here’s a history of it:
I had an idea one day in 2019.
A family trapped on a roof during a flood.
The play was called The Flood.
I wrote Act One. Then shelved it. Because… life.
Then came The Tulis Group — a group of writers in Malaysia.
There, I started a musical called The Bookshop Café.
Then COVID hit. Couldn’t workshop the musical. Needed singers. Not ideal.
So I pivoted. I returned to The Flood.
Finished Act Two.
And thus began the readings, the workshops, the rewrites.
In 2024, I submitted it for a playwright residency because it was the most “complete” play I had. It had history. Rewrites. Scars. Heart.
I didn’t get selected.
But the programme director sent feedback. Really good feedback.
And now… I’m stuck.
Why?
Because I told myself this next draft would be the last one.
It’s been years. I want to move forward. Let it go. Let it live.
Everyone who’s read it remembers it. They say it’s rich. Emotional. Unforgettable.
Which is exactly why it’s terrifying. The staaakes!
There’s pressure now.
Because even though it’s just a handful of people — I feel like they’re waiting.
Across Malaysia. Singapore.
They’re waiting.
And the final draft is the one that will enter the world.
But here’s the thing:
I know what to do.
The story is clear.
The characters are clear.
The plot is clear.
I just need to sit and write it.
But I can’t force it.
Because if I force it, it won’t be right.
It won’t feel right.
And I won’t be able to write.
And I want this one to be right.
(see what I did there? lol)
So I wait.
For a flash.
For a shift.
For that thing I can’t ignore.
Because The Flood is always there.
It just sits at the back of my mind. Every. Single. Day.
Honestly, it’s exhausting. But necessary.
Raj, Sheila, and Leila — hang in there.
It’ll be worth it.
When I return to you, I’ll be better.
Wiser. Sharper. Braver.
And the version I write will be the one that can finally carry you to shore.
I don’t know when I’ll write it.
But I will.
Eventually.
Do you have a play like that? One you keep circling but haven’t touched in a while? Tell me about it. I’d love to know I’m not alone.