The Awkward Art of Watching Your Own Show
It’s terrifying. It’s beautiful. But you should be proud anyway.
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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.
There is nothing, NOTHING, quite as weird as sitting in the audience, watching something you wrote... especially if you weren’t part of the rehearsal process.
You don’t know what’s about to happen.
You don’t know how it’s been interpreted.
You don’t even know if it’s going to be good.
All you can do is sit, wait, and pray your name looks nice in the programme.
And sweat profusely.
And if it’s bad?
You freeze.
Do you leave?
Do you stay and act unfazed?
Do you tell yourself, “Well... someone might like it”?
Or do you pretend to like it because after all, people did put in so much effort.
Because when it’s bad, and you feel it’s bad, you genuinely don’t know what to do with your face. Or your soul.
But if it’s great?
Oh, you bask. Mother, do you baaaask!
You soak in the lines landing, the audience laughing, the gasps you didn’t expect.
You let yourself feel justified.
Maybe even, dare I say, proud.
That feeling? No drug comes close.
But here’s what no one tells you:
Watching your own show is never just about the show.
You’re almost reliving the writing.
You remember the day you wrote that monologue.
You remember the anger you felt when that scene poured out.
You remember where you were sitting when that line hit you out of nowhere.
Sometimes you cry, not because it’s emotional, but because you made that.
Sometimes you laugh, alone, because only you know the subtext that didn’t make it into the staging.
And sometimes you cringe, cos GOD DID I WRITE THAT SHIT?!
It’s weird.
It’s intimate.
It’s a little out-of-body.
Especially when you didn’t direct it.
It makes it feel both yours and not yours at the same time.
But here’s the truth:
No matter what changes were made, no matter how it landed, just remember:
You did that.
You put something into the world.
You gave it a life.
This play is here, because of you.
So sit there. Squirm a little. Cry a little.
But oh my god, enjoy the shit out of it.
Have you had the awkward feeling of watching your own play?
What did you feel? I’d love to know!