fantasy moment

Every playwright fantasizes about her first New York Times Interview. How she’ll breeze two minutes late into the Cobble Hill cafe, a free moment between rehearsals,  in 400 dollar jeans but it’s not a thing that’s discussed, just a thing that the journalist notices,  order a chardonnay at eleven AM, speak deeply of important things in a way that no one quite ever has.


Yesterday morning I had my first NYT  interview over the phone re: the incredible upcoming Women’s playwright’s festival in DC. I will have you all know that I did this interview in my night shirt, which is a thing that I have, not having yet brushed my teeth, shoving string cheese into my face while also trying to get dressed for work, and I can’t fully remember anything I said and there was no glamour or profundity and my greatest hope / wish is that I SPOKE IN SENTENCES AND USED WORDS RIGHT.

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