Interpretation

I write a lot of fanfiction. Sometimes I get quality reviews, even quality critiques. And sometimes I get reviews that say things like this: "Sorry to say, but that's kinda sad. But otherwise, good job." Sad happened to be what I was going for in that fic, and I thought I warned people about it upfront by including the word "angsty" in the summary. 

When I read reviews, I find that things which are perfectly obvious to me are not obvious to everyone. Sometimes I read the story over again and I can see that the flaw is in the writing, that I failed to accomplish what I was trying to accomplish. Sometimes, as in the case above, the flaw seems to be in the interpretation.

Granted, interpreting some of my writing might be a little difficult to people who come to fanfiction sites to read about their favorite characters making out (there are lots of these people out there). The story, the characters, the themes sometimes hover between the lines. I don't like to be thoroughly obvious in any form of writing because I like to make people do a little digging, which in turn is because I like to dig myself. My favorite writers of all types write in a slightly oblique fashion, making things a little difficult. Life isn't easy, and not all of us really want it to be.

I have been thinking a lot about interpretation this week. This weekend, for the first time ever, a play I wrote will be in performance. There will be three layers of interpretation between my original intent and the end result: the director, the actors, and the audience. This is as it should be, but I wonder...what will people see?

Friends have been asking me what I want their reactions to be, and up to now I have been unable to formulate a proper response. But every time I've tried to give it a shot, because the way I think about the reactions of others is broader than the scope of this weekend. So if you're coming to see New Works by Old Friends, and curious about what I want from you, here's my go at it for tonight:

I want you to be you. 

One of the downfalls of my creative side has been that I have tended to script life. I'll say such and such, and you'll say such and such, and I'll throw you this witty remark, and you'll give me this certain look, and I'll...etc., etc., etc.

I'm tired of that. I want people to be honest. I don't want to tell them what to feel or say or think. I want to interact with them in real life, not direct them in my own personal mental theatre. If I can keep my character inventions confined to the page, that will be a much more useful way to channel creative energy that has previously been wasted inventing scenarios featuring invented people who wear familiar faces.

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Speaking of familiar faces reminds me of a story about the opposite. Tonight I went to see the fabulous Deborah Lew perform at Calvin. While there, two girls I'd never seen before approached me.

"Are you Suzanne Winter?" they asked.

"Yes," I said, panicking briefly and wondering how they could possibly know...oh, right, my publicity photo for the play, probably from....

"I'm directing your play," said one, introducing herself. 

"We're both producers for the show, too," said the other, also introducing herself.

Note that I can't remember their names. I am not proud of this, and their names will definitely be the first ones I look up when I get the program in my hands tomorrow night, but my brain seriously short-circuited at being approached by strangers while I was alone. I am glad that for Friday and Saturday there will be people I know around. I can be a lot more extroverted when people I'm comfortable with are somewhere close by.