Hair Like the Sun - Working with Claire Mix

When I first began writing the script, I was all on my own. I created the first draft in a three-week span of intense and inspired writing. I'm proud of that first draft, because if nothing else it sold Claire on the idea that her mother's story could indeed be produced as a stage play. It also demonstrated that this play would treat her mother's story with the care and respect it deserved, all while ensuring that it was a quality play that audiences would enjoy.

Of course, I feel I should point out that Claire had no idea I was writing this play when I set out to do it. Writing the play had been her goal, but she'd never been able to crack it. She, by all accounts, hit the roof when she found out about it. I can't blame her. Not only was someone writing the play she's intended to write, he'd already produced a completed draft. It was stunning news, to be certain.

Hair Like the Sun - The First Draft

This is a story about something that I wrote that you will probably never see: the first draft of 'Hair Like the Sun.'

I wrote that first draft in early 2013. It only took me about three weeks. I can be a fast writer when properly motivated, and this project motivated me. I watched Claire Mix's documentary and read her book in a day. The story immediately grabbed me and demanded I write it. I had no choice but to comply. (My fellow writers will back me up on the notion of being held hostage by a story.)

After three weeks, I had something. I was proud of what I'd accomplished in such a short amount of time. I was under no illusions that this was a finished product, you can't write a play in three weeks and not need revisions. That said, there's a lot in that first script that did survive to the final one. More importantly, it proved that Ruth's story could be told in a play.

A Story Worth Telling

I've haven't shared this before, but I'm writing a play called "Hair Like the Sun." It's set to premiere next year at the Texas Repertory Theater. This play is a labor of love, and I'm proud to be a part of it. The reason I haven't mentioned it before, though, is because talking about it makes it real. Suddenly I'm not just noodling around in my workshop, tinkering with a hypothetical script for a hypothetical play. Now I have to face the fact that this is happening.

This project is listed on a website. It has a date. It's been printed on flyers and mailed to people. This is a real thing that has a real date with real people who are investing real money. Already this is generating real buzz which means a real audience will fill a real theater to fill real seats. And for me, this is real scary.

When this project was just a fanciful idea, a "what if" scenario, there was very little consequence for failure. It was a small project known only to a handful of people. If it didn't work in those initial stages, we could have always told ourselves that it would have been wildly successful if not for events that weren't our fault. But then the unthinkable happened. We got a green light to actually produce this play.