Wednesday, December 17, 2025

Writing Roundup: 2025

This year I've ...
My story "House Rules," which appears
in Behind the Revolving Door, was
nominated for a Pushcart Prize.


... written and presented "No Trouble in River City: When Broadway Revisals 'Fix' the Wrong Things" at the MLA 2025 Convention

... attended and written about 119 theatrical experiences for 2025

... written full reviews of 15 shows

... written five new poems (okay it's not a lot but it's better than zero)

... ranted about Eugene O'Neill and got paid for it

... submitted 191 pieces for publication

... had nine of those pieces accepted for publication (eight are out now; one is slated for next year)

... had one of those nine pieces nominated for the Pushcart Prize (I'm aware thousands of pieces get nominated; it's still nice)

... queried the manuscript of my second collection 38 times



Next year, I'd like to ...

... get back on the story-writing horse

... write that Beauty and the Beast /  Lilo and Stitch paper

... succeed in finding a publisher for my collection

... I dunno, write another parody of "The Raven"? That seems to be a thing I do

Tuesday, December 16, 2025

Best Theater of 2025: Another Year End, Another List

Hello hello and it's time for another year-end round up of my favorites of all the theater I saw in 2025. I've been thinking this month about what a shame it is that the Fall season brings us so many strong pieces of theater, many of which don't survive past the new year for one reason or another (if it's a star-studded play, it's often a limited run anyway), and can therefore be forgotten come awards season, even if they're remembered fondly for these end of the year Best-Of lists. But then, I wonder if the weightedness of the Spring season representation at the Tonys et al is mirrored for the year-end lists. Do Spring shows that burned brightly but briefly make the cut? (Not to brag, but it looks like my list is almost evenly divided between first half of the year and second half. Go me!)

This is just me musing. I haven't run the numbers. But hey, speaking of numbers, this year I saw 128 pieces of theater with 9 repeats, leaving 119 unique pieces of theater. Of those 119, 70 were plays, 39 were musicals, and 10 were streaming.

In order of appearance, these ones stuck around in my brain, my heart, and/or my gut.

Monday, December 15, 2025

Weekly Margin 2025, W50: Meet the Cartozians, This World of Tomorrow, Prince F****t

12/09/25: Meet the Cartozians
What: 2nd Stage presents Talene Monahon's play about the Armenian people in America and their complicated history with conditional whiteness and assimilation. Its first act based on the true story behind the 1925 court case United States vs. Cartozian, in which Tatos Cartozian, a survivor of the Ottoman Empire's genocide of Armenians, was about to become a naturalized U.S. citizen but suddenly had that citizenship revoked. In his subsequent trial his attorney successfully argued that Armenians counted as white people rather than Asian, and were therefore permitted American citizenship (archaic laws regarding citizenship limited eligibility to white and Black people only). The play's second act takes place a century later, as Tatos Cartozian's descendant stars on her own reality show (a stand-in for the Kardashian family) and is interviewing four people of Armenian descent to discuss what their Armenian identity and traditions mean to them. Over the course of this discussion, the question of whiteness is again interrogated, with some characters insisting Armenians are white while others are adamant they are part of the larger SWANA amalgam of ethnicities and therefore not white.
And? The above summary sounds pretty cold and clinical when written out, but I wanted to articulate the larger questions and theme of the show. But the story told is incredibly heartfelt and deeply personal. It's impressive when a playwright is able to take on a philosophical argument--with far-reaching implications--without making the play feel like a lecture or a debate. Here, every argument is grounded in full characters who all have something to lose and a desperate need to hold their own ground. David Cromer is truly a fine director, always able to drill down to the deeply human in his productions, and I'll be interested to read the script to see what moments were Monahon's and what were Cromer's. I'm thinking of the decade-spanning thousand-yard stare of both of Nael Nacer's characters as a quiet roaring is heard, perhaps in his head, perhaps in our collective memories. The dark history of a monstrosity survived even as the scars from the trauma linger on. The cast is doing terrific work, from Andrea Martin's reliably scene-stealing work that manages to be both hilarious and heartbreaking, to the quiet dignity of Nael Nacer's work especially in the first act, to Will Brill's continuing to show off his wide range, to, well everyone, but those are the three I wanted to highlight.

Will Brill, Andrea Martin, and Nael Nacer as Wallace McCamant,
Markrid Cartozian, and Tatos Cartozian. Photo by Julieta Cervantes.


What: The Shed presents a new play adapted from three of Tom Hanks's short stories, about Bert, a man in 2089 who becomes enamored of traveling in time to the New York World's Fair in 1939--and the woman he meets there.
And? One of the important lessons I learned in my twenties, both from a very good creative writing teacher and from The Shakespeare Forum, is the importance of meeting a piece of work on its terms rather than the terms you think it should be. So this is going to be a mix of my attempt to meet this play on its own terms but also contending with it within the larger context of theater. To handle the latter part first, the stakes and tension never feel fully established: it's not clear the importance of the work Bert is neglecting and ultimately abandoning when he keeps returning to 1939, and so his choice seems obvious and easy. Meanwhile, the MacGuffin of the damage time travel can wreak--as well as the deus ex machina of overcoming that MacGuffin--are glossed to the extent that those stakes also don't feel particularly grounded or real. As a play in the larger context of how plays usually work, it seems a weaker, flimsier piece.

But I was still touched by the love story, so I need to also meet this piece on its own terms. And it deserves that from me especially, since the majority of my fiction writing doesn't pivot on the tensions you would see in traditional stories, but rather engaging in characters and moments in time. So if we agree that it's not the writers' intent to really delve into what it's like in the future or the important work being accomplished there, if we engage instead with the emotional themes, perhaps we can land where the play and production would like us to land. Where when we look neither toward the utopian future nor toward a nostalgia-tinted past, but focus rather on the immediate need to engage with the present. When Bert travels back in time it's a bit like Groundhog Day, he can visit only one day in one location over and over again, but he can choose how to play with the nuances within that. That day is all he has, but the same is true for Carmen, the woman he meets and falls in love with. Carmen has a past she'd rather not revisit and a future that feels uncertain and unknowable. She focuses intensely on the present, on what she can do with her today. And here in this day is when they can meet and perhaps both find a second chance at life and love. The charisma and chemistry between Hanks and his costar Kelli O'Hara does a lot of the heavy lifting here, reminiscent of Hanks's past films with Meg Ryan. And so that is the play being told: themes of enjoying this precious moment we have, and the fairy tale soulmate love we might find. Meeting the play on those terms, it's a sweet narrative. Perhaps they don't all need to be bombastic.

Kelli O'Hara and Tom Hanks as Carmen Perry and Bert Allenberry.
Photo by Mark J. Franklin.



Monday, December 8, 2025

Weekly Margin 2025, W49: Gotta Dance! with American Dance Machine

What: A tribute to iconic musical theater choreography ranging from Bob Fosse to Jerome Robbins to Gene Kelly to Michael Bennet to Susan Stroman to Billy Wilson.
And? full review here.

Georgina Pazcoguin, Taylor Stanley, and Afra Hines perform
"Manson Trio." Photo by Bjorn Bolinder.


Thursday, December 4, 2025

Margin Notes: Gotta Dance! with American Dance Machine


Seen on: Tuesday, 12/02/25.
Anthony Cannarella and Samantha 
Siegel with the ensemble in "Sing, Sing, Sing."
Photo by Bjorn Bolinder.



Plot and Background
A tribute to iconic musical theater choreography ranging from Bob Fosse to Jerome Robbins to Gene Kelly to Michael Bennet to Susan Stroman to Billy Wilson.

Thoughts:

What an absolute delight of an evening! This is an excellent showcase, not only of the varied visual voices of these choreographers, but also of the dancers performing them. While watching, I was struck over and over by how many different styles a musical theater dancer must master. There's the precise and sinuous body isolation of Bob Fosse, the flair of Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen, the exuberance of Susan Stroman, the gestural and explosive athleticism of Jerome Robbins, the joy of Lynne Taylor-Corbett, the loose-limbed fluidity of Billy Wilson, the romantic grace of Christopher Wheeldon, the classic showmanship of Michael Bennett and Bob Avian. And, well, the shimmy of Joey McNeely. It's such a glorious tasting menu--a feast, really--of choreographers at the height of their game.