plays

PITZ + JOE

PITZ & JOE is a full-length about a sister who brings her brain damaged brother home to rehabilitate him. Everything about Joe has been compromised. He has suffered a profound loss of his life: memory, time, thought, speech, movement; all freedom. Within the harsh world of these huge limitations a different and intangible freedom emerges; that of shedding the past and living in the now.  

2 Characters, 90 minutes. Full Length Drama, contracted by Warner Bros. 

Productions + Credits: Philadelphia Theatre Company (workshop), Williamstown Theatre Festival, Williamstown, MA (workshop), GeVa Theatre, Rochester, NY (world premiere), Arizona Repertory Theatre, Tucson, AZ (staged reading), Hudson Theatre, Los Angeles (production), The Redhen, Chicago, IL (production), National Head Injury Foundation (presentation in Washington, DC)

Below is an excerpt from a monologue from the play.
Almost at the cold light of the morning- a reckoning between brother and sister. 

COUNT DOWN

COUNT DOWN is a full-length about the fragmented lives of abused girls, a teacher who tries to make them whole, and the inherent dissonance between the child welfare system and the reality of the girls who have no choice but to spend their childhood and adolescence in its care.  

9 Characters (8 female, 1 male) 2 hours.

Full Length Drama

Productions + Credits:  The Strand Theatre, Baltimore, MD, 2018 (full production), Women’s Voices Theatre Festival, DC, 2018, Puffin Cultural Forum, Teaneck, New Jersey (full workshop production), Produced by Jane Dubin. Bank Street Theatre, New York City (full production), Finalist for Playwrights First Award, The National Arts Club, NY, NJSCA and Mid Atlantic Individual Playwriting Fellowship, 2009

Bank Street: Double Play Productions, Jane Dubin. Directed by Elyse Knight, choreography by Penny McCourt, photography/lighting by Jill Nagle

Strand Theatre Company, Executive Director Elena Kostakis, Directed and choreographed by Bari Hochwald.

Below is an excerpt from a monologue from the play.

MIRIAM

It isn’t. I feel like I’m going to throw up because of this stupid ass place. I’m getting an early bed because this place forces me to get sick and F’up my digestive system. How would you like to be force-fed corn dogs? I’m not even supposed to be eating pork. Do you have any idea what’s in one of those pole dogs? Cow lips, that’s what’s in that shit, cow lips and intestines - cow, pig, chicken, goose, cat, duck, dog, sheep, horseshit, all pumped into the fine lining of a pig’s intestine, then rolled in cracked corn meant for squirrels. 

How would you like it if you were forced to eat and if you 

didn’t you would have to go to bed at 8:00, and then YOU WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO CALL YOUR BOYFRIEND?

FOR DEAR LIFE 

FOR DEAL LIFE is a full-length, is an ensemble piece about the 1979 Tehran hostage crisis, seen through the lens of a hostage who is trying to put his life back together.  10 Characters playing multiple parts. 2 hours.

Credits: Finalist for Charlotte New Plays Festival, Charlotte, NC, Jean Cocteau Repertory Company- Finalist for ShenanArts Fellowship, VA

Below is an excerpt from a monologue from the play.

Jesus, the last damn thing I want said about me is, “They got to the Col,” or, “He chickened out. Broke down and talked.” Some private or corporal hear that and say, “If he can’t take it, how the hell am I supposed to?” I won’t talk. (pause) There’s enough broken glass in this cell to slash my wrists. There’s been enough shit littering my days and nights in Iran to tempt Jesus.
(standing on the chair)
Hey Buddy, you knew you were gonna walk up that Mount, gonna have a few nails pounded into ya. That’s same as takin’ your own life. You made a choice. I seem to have a few options here. Slit my wrists, swallow some glass, bash my brains out on the wall. I think I prefer the old Spanish mode of capital punishment for my sins.
(LELAND hops up and down several times, trying to reach a cord hanging above him)
Son of a bitch, is this why you made me so goddamned short? This is the goddamn method I choose. It’s the safest, cleanest, most sure way and I want some kind’a goddamned help from you.
(LELAND hops, reaches and grabs the cord)
Thank you. Thank you.
(Tying the cord around his neck)
Bless me Father for I have sinned, I have not been to confession for some 270 days. I’ve been swearing every day since, so I can’t give you a count on…..

LAST KISS

LAST KISS is a full-length. In the summer of 1967 when no young working-class man could feel safe and secure, unless he could find a way to evade the draft, a final push for Vietnam leaves a small river town in the Midwest without its young men. Two women and their daughters struggle to survive the loss of their men and the loss of innocence.  5 Characters (4 female, 1 male) 2 hours.

Productions + Credits: Ensemble Studio Theatre, New York, NY (presented in Octoberfest Festival) & Lexington Center for the Arts, Centenary Stage’s Women Playwrights Series, Hackettstown, NJ, North Carolina’s Festival of New Works, Davidson College, Finalist for Reva Shiner Award, IN, Finalist for ShenanArts Fellowship, VA

Below is an excerpt from a monologue from the play.

CHRISSY: One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand. I gotta get up. I’m gonna sit over there, on the rock, by the fence. Okay. I’ll be quiet now so I can see your world while we wait for the hummingbird.
(She sits)
Okay. This is good. This is nice. I can sit here. I can sit here for more than a minute. I’ll pipe down.
Silence.
I try. I really do. Please let me talk to you. Let me talk and then when I’m all talked out, I’ll stop. When you’re not around I try and I can’t. To sit. But as soon as I sit I look at another spot and things look better in that spot, see, let’s say, over there, by the sprinkler. It looks good to me. I’m gonna sit there now. That’s what I do. Is that bad? It worries me. I might have a problem, like ants in my pants. I really understand ants in my pants and it’s very serious. I think I may never stop moving. I think I’m going to miss something. Something important. What? What would I miss? The hummingbird, the mailman, a telephone call, a visit. I wait…..

SAFE

SAFE is a full-length. Larkin is hip deep in trouble, about to turn 18, and precariously close to some serious jail time. With a mother who feels her son is safer locked up in facilities and a father who is living out of a truck, Larkin’s only savior may be Nitz, a kid Larkin finds sleeping in his bed when he returns from a stint at a facility.  7 Characters (1 doubling, 2 female, 4 male) 2 hours.

Full Length Drama

Credits: Writers Theatre of New Jersey Soundings Forum 2012

Below is an excerpt from a monologue from the play.

Larkin has just come home from a juvenile to find Nitz, a homeless kid taken in by his mother, in his room. 

LARKIN takes a band aid box from a book shelf over his head. He opens it, pulls out weed and papers and rolls a doobie. NITZ sits up. 

NITZ
Ever hear, “Ain’t No Grave?” 

LARKIN lights up. 

NITZ
It goes: 

(imitating older Cash) 

“There ain’t no graaave can hold my body down. There ain’t no grave can hold my body down. When I hear that trumpet sound, I’m gonna ride right outta the ground. Ain’t no grave can hold my body down. Well look way down the river, what do you think I see? I see a band of angels and they’re comin after me…” this is the thing about this song. Johnny starts out with a nice enough strum, gentle, like a lot of songs, and then when he says, “when I hear that trumpet sound,” a drumbeat comes in. One constant beat along with a cymbal brush, and I swear to you, the drum beat sounds like a nail going in a coffin and the brush sounds just like dirt, not heavy wet dirt thudding on the coffin, more like dry, very dry dirt, showering the coffin. So it’s like the coffin is being made and the grave being dug, and the burial is happening all at the same time, but not, because somehow you experience the words of the song and the sound as a story of what will happen.  

LARKIN
Shit, you can talk a blue streak. 

NITZ
I’m just so happy to have somebody to talk to!

LARKIN
Well, talk away cause after tonight you won’t be here and not just in this room, jack-nut, this whole house.

NOTHING BUT A GOOD MOTHER

NOTHING BUT A GOOD MOTHER A young girl drops her 17-month old son into a River.  The story leading up to this inexplicable act is set side-by-side with a forty-two-year-old woman who is desperately trying to have her first child, and the crusade for birth control in the 1900’s.  8 Characters (8-character ensemble, 90 minut

Credits: Writers Theatre of New Jersey, Women Playwrights Project, Writers Theatre of New Jersey. Forum Reading Series. Semi-finalist, MultiStages New Works, finalist, Downstage Left Playwrights Residency. Speranzea Theatre, Fall Festival. Finalist, A is For, 2026.

Below are two excerpts as MYA, a teenager, struggles to be a good mother.

Maya is asked by her aunt to describe when she was happiest for an essay to pass her GED.

MYA

Happiest? When I’m eating a Moonpie. I don’t know happiest yet. When a boy first looks at me. How’s that? I love it when the first time a boy looks at me, really looks at me in my eyes and smiles and wants to dance with me or talk to me or just sit near me. I feel like a thing in me in my heart or something gets warm and it spreads and then everything is good. I’m good, my life is good, my whole day is good and I’m somebody. Just to be looked at makes everything change and I can see like a bright blue day you know a day when everything around is a color not all gray. If I could, if I could make a way to change my life, don’t you think I would?!  Some days I jus’wanna snap my fingers, like that, and my life is changed. Changed forever. I’m gonna ask Isse if she can watch Mateo. I hate it when I don’t have somebody to watch Mateo.

(SHE eats some Moonpie)

Mya is at her wits end with her son, Mateo. At this point in the play, she simply wants help. No one hears just how desperate she is.

MYA

Mateo, Mateo, cuac, cuac, cuac- please Mateo. I don’t know what you want. What do you want? I gotta get washed. I gotta pee. You gotta let me pee. What do you want? Milk? You want milk? I’m gonna warm up milk but you gotta stop crying. NALDA? NALDA? You home? NALDA!!! (MYA sits on the bathroom floor.) Somebody help me. I got nobody. Please. Somebody, somebody, somebody. (MATEO cries)Mateo! Mateo, mommy’s right here. I gotta get a bath. I need a bath. Please, Mateo, stop crying. Mommy’s right here. Mateo, Mateo, cuac, cuac, cuac- please Mateo. (drops a rubber duck in the stroller). Play with the cuac-cuac. I don’t know what you want. What, what do you want? I gotta get washed. I gotta pee. You can’t be with me every minute. You gotta let me pee. You gotta let me wash, you gotta let me study, you gotta let me eat. You gotta let me. What do you want? Milk? You want milk? I’m gonna warm up milk but you gotta stop crying. NALDA? NALDA? You home? NALDA!!! MATEO STOP!!! (MYA holds her head.) Somebody help me. Please. Somebody, somebody, somebody.

MEDICATION

MEDICATION When Colleen decides that her father, Justin, will return home to die, her childhood friend and once sister-in-law, Nora, arrives to help her with the difficult task of caring for Justin. From the moment Nora arrives the family is turned upside down, every step of the way, no one able to deal with the present and forever holding on to the past yet trying desperately to keep it at bay.   6 Characters (full-length, 2 hours)

Ray, Justin’s oncologist, has fallen in love with Colleen. In this scene, Justin isn’t quite sure how his pain meds pump works. Ray takes this opportunity to assure Justin and then to reveal his intentions.

RAY

So, look here, it’s perfectly safe and easy. This is your PCA, patient-controlled analgesia. The infusion team set the pump to deliver 5 milligrams per hour. So, it’s constant. Now when you press this button, you’re going to give yourself a bolus, a dose of 1 milligram all at once. This is your rescue dose, so you’ll never be in any pain. The lockout interval is 15 minutes.

( Colleen gets up and looks out the window. )

 JUSTIN

So, all I do is press? What if I press twice?             

 (Nora gets up, stands near Colleen, puts her arm around Colleen)

RAY

It’s set, Justin. We can change the setting when- look, see, you can’t overdose.   

JUSTIN

Cause I wouldn’t want to do that. Overdose. Col! Where’d ya go?                     

COLLEEN

I’m right here. 

 JUSTIN

I’m good to go now, Col. Time for you to get ready. Get all gussied up. Shake a leg will ya!

COLLEEN

Why do I feel like I’m going for a checkup?

JUSTIN

You look through your Mom’s dresses. And Nora, Rose don’t got no dresses with slits up the back.

NORA

I got this Justin.

JUSTIN

Ok, doll.

NORA

Oh, Justin, I just love it when you call me Doll.

(Colleen is reluctant to leave)

JUSTIN

Well, don’t just stand there, you two.  I’m happy as a clam. Don’t you worry none bout me.

 (NORA ushers COLLEEN out. THEY are jabbering excitedly. A door opens, then closes. We hear muffled jabbering and laughing. RAY pulls up a chair. HE sits. It’s quiet for a moment.) 

RAY

Those two are connected at the hip. 

 JUSTIN

They go way back. Like sisters. Col is a happier woman when Nora’s around. Makes me happy, just hearin’ em giggling.

RAY

Look, see here, Justin, I’m sure it’s no secret how I feel about your daughter. I want you to know that it’s not something that will pass- with-

JUSTIN

Me.                   

RAY

Quite. Justin, I would like your permission to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.

JUSTIN

You’re gonna have to ask her on that. She’s as stubborn as the month of March is long. She was with a fella, beekeeper. The guy loved honey and rare books, didn’t read em, just collected em, and when she broke up with him, he was so heartbroken he moved to Hong Kong is all I know- so there’s that. She’s a smart cookie, Master’s in Special Education, kids loved her, she loved them. She gave it all up, for me. Loyal as they come. Left her house, her job, her life in Illinois to take care of me. I can only hope - - - well, look, once things, ya know, settle, ya might wanna get her back at it, teaching. Aw, I’m yapperin on here, Doc. Look, ask her. Can’t think of a better man than you.

(JUSTIN closes his eyes.) 

RAY

Thank you. Look, see, I’ll leave you to some peace and quiet.

GRACE REVISED                 

GRACE REVISED  GRACE, GRACE, the storyteller, is an 89-year-old woman who plays all characters until memory and time conjure up JEANETTE, Grace’s mother, and YOUNG GRACE, Grace as a child. The backdrop of the play shifts from the grittiness of Morristown, New Jersey in the early 1900’s and the magic of Long Branch where JEANETTE and YOUNG GRACE, each summer for two weeks, can escape from the harshness of a man’s world. The three women take us on an odyssey that spans time (, place, and language.  3 Characters. (a full-length with music 2 hours)

Jeanette, now in an arranged marriage with Dominick, a domineering and angry man, fears for her unborn child. What if the baby is a girl born into this man’s world. Theresa, Jeanette’s cousin tries to reassure Jeanette only has she knows how. Grace, the storyteller watches her mother, Jeanette and learns how she came into this world.

THERESA

No. You. You the right mother. But- you make me Madrina.  You got a gift, Du’netta. Nobody cook like you! Nobody make the manicotti, lasagna, osso bocca, ribollita, pasta e fagioli, zuppa di scarola, torrone, there ain a pie you can’t make. Use gift God give you, make money and hide it away. And one day, you take you baby girl away to una terra encantata.         

JEANETTE

Where?

THERESA

Long Branch! By the sea! Meet friends, new. And old. Jeanette, talk to you baby girl. Go sit under the oak tree and think about what I tell you an don be looking to the acorns. Ain gonna do you no good. E per amore di Dio, don look at Mr. Aletto the organ grinder’s monkey. You end up with a hairy baby that got a tail. 

JEANETTE

(sitting under the oak tree) Cara figlia, lo sono tua Momma. I sing you a song. Ninna nanna marinare/'Ngopp a varca, miezo o mare/Io te parl e nun-

 GRACE 

Do you hear it? The whoosh of their wings,                     

 JEANETTE

Te vurria magna' de vas/Ma ho paura e te sceta'/Cosi' guarde da luntane/Co' stu core innammurata

 GRACE                       

the ocean mixing

with gull-calls,

Momma, I cannot

Yet see you-  

JEANETTE

Quann aggia' spetta/D'averti questa sera/Co'sta luna quiena?

GRACE             

tumbling together,

gull and sea-salt call,

rinsing and washing,

JEANETTE hums the tune.             

GRACE

Momma, I know

there were three                      

before me,

their heartbeats

I hear, unformed,

whispering me to sleep.

JEANETTE

Ninna nanna nanna nanna/Ninna nanna nanna nanna. 

(Lights Fade slowly, Ninna nanna continues as the lights come up on JEANETTE, holding a bundled child on her chest. SHE has a small glass bottle. ) 

JEANETTE

Sei stato battezzato, Grazia. Tuo padre give you the name of his Momma. Era una donna dura. I name you Grace. Is softer but you must to be strong. Cosi, (taking a dab of water from the bottle, and blessing) I name you Grace Marie, star of the sea. 

 (Lights shift, the Moon casts shadows of trees with leaves, leaves falling, to bare tree limbs as seasons pass. The sound of wind turns to the sound of static, crackle of a radio, then roar of a crowd. A whistle blows. JEANETTE stands on one of the platforms in a boxing stance. Her shadow is cast across the backdrop. JEANETTE shadowboxes as the RADIO plays. It is now 1926.

Music link. Music by Frank Basile. Frank Basile singing (not the actors)

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1N7q_y2cAzP8h5rqUFDCAcz7XGPRmu76t?usp=drive_link

IAMHERE

Screenplay, Finalist, Inspired Screenwriting, Film Freeway.

After an accident alters the lives of a father and son, a sister brings her brother home. It is often the ones most damaged and dismissed who show the way to healing.

Inspiration for Iamhere: One Thanksgiving, years after my brother’s accident, I videoed my father washing my brother’s hair, his hands, cleaning and cutting his nails, shaving his face, and getting him dressed. I’d seen him do this many, many times, but it wasn’t until I viewed the brief footage, no words passed between father and son, that I saw the depth of what their relationship had become. Only films have that power and that is reason enough to write a screenplay. Caretaking is an impossible act of faith and help can be found in often-dismissed people and communities if only we choose to see. The video, long lost, stayed with me; one moment between father and son. How did father and son get to this moment? That question and one moment inspired Iamhere. 

ONE ACTS: Blighted, By Satellite, Starting Today, All Hallow’s Eve