Chris Leyva on Inside the Actor's Studio

Not really.

This morning, I entered into the room at 8:35. I had agreed to meet with a class of sixth graders. Sarah Moore, my friend Bryan's wife, had asked me to come and talk to her class about playwriting. They were in the midst of writing their own plays and she had wanted a playwright to come in and talk to them about where ideas come from, how a playwright writes, that kind of thing. She asked me how I'd like to lead the presentation, if I needed a dry erase board or construction paper or whatever. Would I be bringing a copy of a play I wrote? I didn't know. My instinct was to go in au natural, nothing in hand, and just talk to these kids about what it's like for me to write a play. I wanted it to be less of a "presentation" and more of a conversation that the students would lead by asking questions. I knew that their questions would lead me into more interesting territory than if I were to simply sit before them and talk to them for half an hour.

I was led to the school's "Media Center," which is actually their library, but with G5 Macs. I saw a large open space of carpet and a single, not quite adult sized chair in the middle of the room. Was that for me? I was led to the chair, I was told that the students had been preparing questions, so they'd be very eager to talk to me. I sat, drumming my leg with my thumbs, trying not to be nervous. Then, suddenly, streams, seriously streams of children came flooding into the room. Apparently all five fifth and sixth grade classes had decided to show up. Kids sat on the floor in front of me, fling back and forth, filling up all that once empty floor space that sat before me. I had expected about 30 kids, maybe, but no. I counted and estimated... There were about 125 kids there! A complete audience. If we were in Theatre B, it would almost be a sell-out crowd!

I nervously tried to find my focus, trying to remember all those answers I had planned to say to the questions I guessed were coming. Just tell them the truth. Don't dumb things down. Watch your language. Just pretend you're on Inside the Actors Studio with about 125 little James Liptons... Not that Inside the Actors Studio would interview a playwright... Well, not with talent such as J-Lo out there to give their theatrical wisdom, right?

After a brief introduction from Sarah about what an MFA was and where I went to school, I spurted out two sentences about writing plays and enjoying writing plays and how I get ideas from everything... I quickly went to questions. Two hands. This'll be easy. After the first question, which was basically, how long have I been writing plays?, many hands went up. I told the kids that I'd been writing short stories since third grade and then enjoyed it so much, that I started writing plays in high school. I talked about acting in a play, and how that made me want to direct because I loved the interaction between the live audience and the actors. I was asked if any of my plays were made into movies... I answered, "No, but a producer asked to read one of my plays... but he didn't think it'd make a very good movie."

I told the kids that I've written a lot of plays that I don't like, but I keep writing and writing. "How long does it take to write a play?" Years, I said. I go back again and again. I revisit and rewrite and rethink. I found it important to let the kids know that they'd be working on things for a long time. A teacher piped up, "We don't have years, what advice do you have for the kids that are writing plays in a short amount of time?" If you're working together, something that helps things work more quickly is to fight for the "best ideas." Don't fight for your own ideas, but fight for the best ones. A lot of the things I like from my plays came from other people. Write about something that you're completely excited about.

"Who are your heroes?" Walt Disney, Tim Burton, Bertolt Brecht. Anyone know Brecht, any Brecht fans? Two teachers raised their hands. "Do you like Shakespeare?" Oh, yeah, Shakespeare, he's really great, too. He wrote my favorite play-- "Hamlet." "What did you want to do before you wrote plays?" I wanted to be a Disney animator. I almost went to school for it (CalArts), but I was better at writing the stories than at drawing. "You could work for Pixar!" Yes, I could. Every two weeks I go online and look at Pixar's website, hoping one day they'll have "Writer" on their job postings.

"Do you like musicals?" I'm writing a musical right now that's based on a book about New Mexico in the 1800's. Musicals are hard because the songs get to express all the emotion. In a play, I can write, "I'm excited! I'm excited!" In a musical, I write, "I'm..." and the songs say, "EXCITED! LALA, I'm excited!! LAAA!" "What's your favorite cartoon?" Are we talking animated feature, short, tv show? (Confused look) "TV show?" Darkwing Duck.

"Have you ever written a story in class when you weren't supposed to?" Yes. And when I used to work at the credit union in town, I would write stories instead of doing certain things I should've been doing. And if you kids ever find yourself in an assembly, be careful what you say because the CEO of the company might be listening to you. "Or a teacher." Or a teacher. You think they can't hear you, but they can!

"What is your favorite play you've written?" My play "All Grace." It's about a sculptor in World War II. I'm very proud of it. "What's your best play from the audience's view?" That's a hard one... I would say, "Solamente Una Vez." People seemed to like that one. My friends said it was really good.

"What happens when you get to a dead-end on a play?" Good question. When you get to a dead end on a play, and it always happens more than I'd like it to happen, you have to keep writing. If you get stuck at the beginning, move to a different part of the play and work on the middle. Just keep writing. The hardest part of a play is getting started. Those first words are hard to write, but once they're out, don't let yourself stop. (Was I talking to the kids now, or was I yelling at myself)

I left that room energized about my plays. These kids have never read a word of my work, but I could tell by their silence and attentiveness, their straining to raise their hands that they were interested in what I had to say. I even told Sarah that if the kids had questions about their plays, they could e-mail me. I agreed to come back the following week to listen to the kids' plays and give comments and help.

How many of these basic truths have I taken for granted since I've been writing? How many simple things had I forgotten? It's important to return to the basic questions: where do ideas come from, why do I love theatre, what am I proud of, who inspires me... It's the answers to these questions that help refocus an artist.