Baby in the deep end.

Lucius Robinson, my director, and I were talking over on the phone recently. I said, “I’m leaving you my baby!” and he said, “We’ll take very good care of it!” and I blurted, “No! Throw her in the deep end!”

For NIGHTWORK, I was present at every single rehearsal—if for no other reason than it gave me so much pleasure to be around people I loved and take delight in their inventiveness. This time, for WHAT EVERY GIRL SHOULD KNOW, I’m going to be on call, but not present (like a patroness, dare I say?), one of the reasons being that I have so much other stuff to do, like write another play.

I was there at the first read-through last night, and if I was at all nervous about leaving my baby, I’m not now. They get it. They not only get everything I’m trying to do, they see things I could never have seen. I think that’s another one of the deepest pleasures of theater—letting go.