That Awkward Moment When...

Friends...

Have you ever had the moment when you realize your parent/loved one has no idea what you do or, rather, understands what you do...but not how you do it?

My father got a hold of my play. He read it on Wednesday. Last night, he confessed this to me over the phone.

Now I wasn't hiding the play from my father...but I didn't send it to him for a reason. My play is different than what he is used to. It deals with topics he may find troubling coming from his daughter. I thought it may be useful to have the "introduction". Alas, that is not what happened.

"So, what did you think?" I asked.

My father took a deep breath in. "It was," he said slowly, "...interesting..."

Interesting. He used the word interesting.

And then he went further. He described what he thought happened. He was confused by the non-linear structure. He wanted to make the story logical and, in effect, created a back story that seemed (to me) even more illogical.

I found myself panicking on the phone. I thought all my friends who've read the play lied to me. I know the play still has issues-this is why I've submitted the play to several workshops (fingers crossed)-but I didn't think it was that bad. Later in the evening, I called my mom. I asked her if my play made sense. She said, "There were weird things, but yes, I got it." Okay. My friend called. I asked her. She said, "No, it makes sense". Okay.

So I thought about it and I realized that I am used to reading and watching plays like mine. Non-linear. "Illogical" characters (though I would just say that they are being logical in their own ways). Plot twists. My dad likes The Phantom of the Opera. I do too, but my play is nothing like that. I'm not sure if any of my plays are like that. I'm not sure if my dad has ever read a play like mine...which, on one hand, is really cool, but on the other, made our conversation a little awkward. We went back and forth, discussing his thoughts. He did say that the play made him think and when I mentioned making changes, he said that the play shouldn't lose that quality.

"It is good that two people leaving the theater may have two separate understandings of the play," he said. "I'm going to have to read this again...Oh, I sent this to your aunt, by the way."

I sighed. If my dad thought my play was weird, there is a good chance my aunt will too. I'm going to be the weirdo writer of the family. The weird, bad writer of the family.

Bah.

On the flip side, my dad read my play, thought it was weird, and still mentioned that it should be produced. So he is supportive...of his...weird...bad writer...daughter. Awesomeness.