Witness… The Thrill of Adventure

The life of a writer is full of more unfinished projects than finished ones. I can’t be alone on this sentiment, right? It just happens; it can’t be helped. Whether it’s from writer’s block or boredom or just sheer distraction, some projects are going to be left by the wayside, orphaned and dreaming of their day in the spotlight, one day, it’ll come, trust me, my precocious British accent speaks the truth, the sun will come out tomorrow, etc. These days, I either try not to move onto a new project until finished/satisfied with my current one, or I get overly ambitious and work on multiple things at once and just deal with the burnout when it comes. When I was a kid, though, boy, there were so many mostly empty notebooks on my shelves, like a Mario Kart novelization, or a collection of Goosebumps-esque short stories, or my epic fantasy trilogy that was based on a latchkey kid story I played out with my action figures one Saturday afternoon while alone in the house.

Another one of the those unfinished tales was “The Blue Diamond.” I was big into Michael Crichton as a child (I’ll get more into this in a couple weeks) and wanted to emulate his fun, popcorn style of writing. I thought of four stories I wanted to bang out by hand as quickly as possible: Diamond; a sci-fi/disaster thriller called The R.E.N.T.O.R. (which stood for who the fuck knows, but it involved a giant, crazed robot); the first of that fantasy trilogy that was based on the improvised antics of toys, Savior for the Gods; and a post-apocalyptic travel tale called The Evolution (which turned out to be eerily similar to Stephen King’s The Stand, even though I’d only ever looked at the spine of the paperback on my parents’ bookshelf). Diamond was the only one I started, much to the chagrin of my parents, who once again wasted money on four blank notebooks for me (college-ruled this time; I was growing!).

I set out to be really meticulous for this book. As it primarily took place in the jungle, I researched the animals that lived in Nairobi… aaaaand that’s about the extent of how meticulous I was. I didn’t even follow my research because I wanted animals that weren’t native to Nairobi to make appearances in the story. I found a way to justify this, though, by having some evil corporation (how’s that for trying to emulate Crichton?) relocate animals into this new location to see how they would fare. For the most part, though, I just wanted a typical adventure story with a valiant hero, traumatized by the past, doing his best to survive and mentor a young protégé. So, basically, Kingdom of the Crystal Skull almost two decades before that was even conceived. Only, you know, good. Well, probably not good, but better? Let’s say better. Which isn’t saying much.

Now, never minding the fact that this will technically be shit storytelling, let’s cut from the mid-90s to 2017, mostly because once I put the Diamond novel down, it never got picked back up, as my tastes began to change with my age (how atypical), so nothing really happened with it until the original Imagine if You Will… series began to swirl around in my head. Before that, though, I was starting a new step in my improv journey: coaching and teaching. An official teaching job would still be several months away, but in the spring of 2017, I was approached by the improv team Cat Dance to coach them for one three hour session.

This was going to be my first time coaching instead of being coached, and it was going to be with CAT DANCE. In the Endgames Improv community, Cat Dance is legend. They were a seminal team, a regular at Harold Night and other Endgames shows. They would experiment with form, and would always, ALWAYS have me guffawing in my seat. After their longtime coach moved away from SF, the Cats began rotating coaches, and during a post-sketch show celebration, one of them, Mike Manziello (Cristobal), asked if I was free that Sunday.

I was honestly taken aback. I personally didn’t feel I had reached coaching level. I had taken a coaching workshop, yet still felt I wasn’t ready. But I figured I would never be ready unless I dove in headfirst, just like any regular improv scene. There was extra intimidation, though, because the Cat Dance lineup at that time consisted of many veteran improvisers, people with more experience under my belt, and there I would be, a 30 year-old schmo, giving them tips and tricks of the trade. Cue imposter syndrome! Still, I went into it with my head held high, or as high as it could get with my shit posture. It helps because coaching improv isn’t necessarily about teaching new things, but rather strengthening the improv muscles, and maybe focusing on one area in particular on the off chance the team discovers something they want to try all the time. It’s not about being critical or demanding; it’s about being an impartial yet supportive voice and surmising ways to make the show even more entertaining for future audiences. The coaching session went well, I was invited back, and eventually, Cat Dance asked me to become their regular coach, which I was honored to accept.

Caitlin, during rehearsal, in a scene where she has ghost roommates (the rest of the team offstage).

This gave me a front row seat into the inner workings of Cat Dance, so I got to know each member’s individual style and mannerisms very well, if I say so myself, which made writing a script intended for them extremely *chef’s kiss*. Cat Dance is just as capable of grounded scene work as they are going to crazy town, something I think I unconsciously considered when writing “Diamond.” While my original intention was to keep the story in set reality (or at least some mildly heightened version of it, not unlike “The Wrong Button”), upon approaching the climax, it became clear that things were going to take a turn. Hence, the surprise, Raiders-like introduction of the supernatural and Wendy’s possession by the Blue Diamond. I wasn’t taking any technical or budgetary constraints into account here like I had in the past; I wanted to watch the Cats get trapped in a blue-colored cave because I thought it would be fun.

“The Blue Diamond” performed live, 2/15/19.

(See, doesn’t this look fun?)

There were some snags when it came to the original plans for the actual production, though. It was always going to be third, coming after “The Wrong Button,” and I had wanted the performance to occur some time during the summer— you know, blockbuster movie time, and this was kind of an homage to one of the greatest blockbuster franchises ever? But Andrea Barello (Don) was going to take an extended vacation during that time. Recasting Don was out of the question, so “Diamond” was put on hold until February 2019. Then the Cats came to me and asked if the whole thing could be done as more of a live radio play instead of a full-blown production, making things a little less stressful when it came to memorizing lines and such. This made some sense to me, and a little tweaking to the opening helped sell the whole radio play motif. I was also told that the performance would not be taking place at regular Endgames venue Stage Werx; in the time since I began coaching Cat Dance, Endgames had bought and renovated a new training center, and even juiced up two of the classrooms into full blown performance spaces, with lights, audio, the works. While that would mean a smaller audience, it also meant more likelihood of a fuller audience— 20 people in a venue that holds 35 is much more satisfying than in a venue that theoretically can hold 100.

Caitlin (Wendy) and Andrea (Don) perform “The Blue Diamond” live at Endgames Training Center South in the Mission, SF.

Let me tell you, the stress of producing your own work for the stage SUCKS, or at least that’s been my personal experience. Before the Imagine if You Will… plays, I had only ever produced a live production of a full length screenplay I wrote in high school called Consequences for a Fringe Festival put on the drama company. While I technically handed over the directing reins to two friends so I could act in it, it still felt as if everything fell onto me, and even if that wasn’t entirely true, I sure as shit acted like it did. Casting, promotion, soundtrack selection, etc., and I demanded perfection… not verbally to everyone involved, but kind of unconsciously, and definitely from myself. Living with ever-growing butterflies in your stomach for weeks up to the first performance date is like… well, exactly what that sounds like: living with ever-growing butterflies in your stomach. Butterflies don’t belong in your stomach! Gross! It reached the point that I tore one of the actors a new one in front of EVERYBODY after he didn’t pick up an important set piece he promised he would. This was the angriest most people had ever seen me, and it frankly scared them (in an amused sort of way, but still). Thankfully, a backup set piece was handy, and the play went swimmingly. (Side note: I hate to name drop, although I also love to name drop, but the star of the play happened to be Jane Levy of Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist fame, who was a freshman at my high school when I was a senior. So there’s that 🤷‍♂️)

Anyway, there was more of that mounting stress leading up to “The Blue Diamond” live, stress that was only compounded by the fact that I had to move from San Bruno back to Marin County during this whole thing. I had to print out the posters (featuring Casey Marquez’s HOLYSHIT! Richard Amsel tribute), pack up boxes, learn how to use a lighting board, get the junk I wasn’t taking with me picked up, promote the play on all the socials, make sure the apartment was clean so my landlord could show it, buy music stands for scripts & make sure I had access to prop microphones, drive back and forth from San Bruno to Novato (about a 50 minute drive both ways), rehearse with the Cats, and not explode. I’m happy to report that I did not explode, and both the move and the play were successful.

Mike (Cristobal) and Amit Dubey (the original Lee Kreen).

Alas, it was the last live episode of the series. I would have liked to put on a fourth, but after three, the steps needed to pull it off were proving to be exhaustive. I think that’s when the podcast idea started to germinate in ye ol’ noggin there, but I can get more into that next week.

—Andy