Dramaturgy | CreateTheater

Pipeline Starts with Development, Not Production

by Cate Cammarata | Jun 29, 2026 | Development, Dramaturgy, Getting Produced, NPD, Theater

Everybody wants to get produced.

That is the dream, right?

The lights come up. The actors are in costume. The audience is in the room. Someone has finally said yes. Your play is no longer sitting in a folder on your laptop. It is alive.

I get it.

But after years of developing, directing, and producing new work in New York, I need to say something very plainly:

Production is not where the pipeline starts.

Development is.

And if you try to skip that step, rush through it, or pretend you are “ready” before the work has actually been tested, challenged, deepened, and strengthened, you are taking a much bigger risk than you may realize.

I know I may be preaching to the choir here, but during this summer season I see too many writers spend money on various festivals – and then be disappointed.

Not because they were disappointed with their work – but because they were disappointed that the results they dreamed about didn’t materialize.

The Truth About Festivals

Look, I know theater is tough. But here’s the truth:

Production is expensive.

Audiences are honest.

And industry people have long memories.

A mediocre production of a promising play can do more damage than no production at all.

That may sound harsh.

Good. It should.

Because if you care about your work, you cannot afford to treat development like some annoying little hurdle you have to clear before the “real” thing happens.

You do not want to rush into a “festival production.”

Development is the real thing.

It is where the real work begins.

What Happens When You Produce Your Work Too Soon

There is a dangerous fantasy floating around among a lot of writers.

It goes something like this:

“If I can just get my show on stage, then everything will change.”

Well … maybe.

But maybe not.

Because getting your show on stage too soon is not always a win.

Sometimes it means the writer had access to money before the play had access to enough development.

Sometimes it means the show got onstage before it knew what it was.

Sometimes it means someone was so eager to make something happen that nobody told them to slow down long enough to ask the harder questions:

Is the story actually clear?
Does the structure hold?
Are the stakes high enough?
Does the ending land?
Do the characters have enough dramatic agency?
Is the audience emotionally tracking the journey?
Is this really a producible play — or is it just a strong draft someone really wants to be on stage?

Argh.

How many shows have you seen where you walked away shaking your head and asking, “How on earth did this script get on stage?”

The problems in your script do not magically disappear because you found a venue, hired a director, raised some money, and got your friends to come cheer you on opening night.

In fact, production often makes those problems louder.

Much louder.

Because once the work is in front of an audience, the weaknesses are no longer private.

They are public.

And like I said, the theater industry has a long memory.

A looong memory.

You may never get a second chance to make your show live up to its promise.

Think of Development as Insurance.

I know development can feel frustrating. And it takes so long.

You rewrite the draft.

Then you get notes.

Then you revise.

Then you hear it out loud.

Then you discover the second act has a problem.

Then someone gives you feedback you do not want to hear.

Then a director asks a question that makes you realize the emotional center of the play is not where you thought it was.

Then an audience laughs in the wrong place.

Or worse, they do not respond at all.

And you think:

“Am I ever going to get this play produced?”

I understand that feeling. But development is not punishment.

It is not busywork. And it shouldn’t feel like “developmental hell.”

It is the work. It furthers the work.

Development is insurance.

It is the process that protects the play before you put it under the heat of full production.

It gives you time to hear the work in different ways: with different actors, different directors, different audiences, dramaturgs, producers, and collaborators who can help you see not only what is on the page, but what is actually happening in the room.

That matters. Theatre is a collaborative art.

Because one person’s opinion is not development.

One reading is not development.

One enthusiastic friend telling you “I love it” is not development.

And one industry person giving you a note that sounds smart does not mean you should immediately rebuild your entire play around it.

Development is the process of learning how to listen.

To listen to your play. To listen to the room when your play is being read.

Does it hold the audience?

Or do they get distracted and pull out their phones?

Learn to hear what the work itself is telling you.

That takes time.

It also takes discernment.

CreateTheater Is Development

This is why I created CreateTheater.

Even the name denotes a process.

I didn’t form a theater company to rush writers into production before the work is ready, or to move half-developed scripts into festival showcases.

And I am not here to sell the fantasy that every writer dreams of: seeing their work in front of an enthusiastic audience before the piece is actually ready to meet them.

CreateTheater is a developmental theater company.

We concentrate on the part of the process many people would prefer to skip:

The messy middle.
The rewriting.
The hard questions.
The table reads.
The feedback.
The structure.
The audience response.
The honest conversation about what is working, what is not working yet, and what the piece needs next.

Because if your goal is to move toward production, the work has to be strong enough to survive production.

That is what a professional development pipeline is designed to do – to carefully learn what your show really needs.

Start Development This Summer

Our Production-Ready Writers™ 6-Month Play Writing Groups begin this week.

If you are serious about developing your play, I’d love for you to consider joining us.

Want More Info on the Production-Ready Writers™ Groups?

The World & the Want: Why Many Musicals Fail in the First 15 Minutes

by Cate Cammarata | Apr 20, 2026 | Dramaturgy, New Musical Development, Theater, Writing Tips

The World & The Want: Why Many Musicals Fail in the First 15 Minutes

Many musicals don’t fail in Act Two.

They fail in the first 10–15 minutes.

Not because the writers aren’t talented—
but because the foundation isn’t clear.

If your audience doesn’t understand the world of your show and what your protagonist wants, they have nothing to hold onto.

And if they don’t have that?
They’re gone—whether they realize it or not.

Start Here: The Stasis of Your Musical

At the beginning of Act One, you are establishing what’s called the stasis—the “normal world” before everything changes.

This is where you introduce:

Your main character (the one with the WANT)
The dramatic premise (what the story is about)
The dramatic situation (the circumstances we’re stepping into)
And the inciting incident (what’s about to disrupt everything)

This is not setup for the sake of setup.

This is where you teach the audience how to watch your show.

The Opening Number Is a Contract

Your opening number is doing far more work than most writers realize.

It must:

Invite the audience into the world
Establish tone, style, and storytelling language
Introduce key characters
Signal what kind of experience this will be

In other words:

It’s a promise.

And your show has to deliver on that promise for the next two hours.

As Stephen Sondheim said (building on what he learned from Oscar Hammerstein II):
“The Opening Number must tell the audience everything they need to know.”

If your opening number is unclear, unfocused, or tonally confused—
your audience will spend the rest of the show trying to catch up.

The Inciting Incident: Breaking the World

Once the world is established, something must break it.

This is your inciting incident—the event that sets the story in motion.

And here’s where writers often go wrong:

The inciting incident should not be passive or internal.
It works best when it is thrust upon the protagonist from the outside.

Why?

Because it forces action.

It disrupts the stasis and launches the story into motion.

The Point of No Return

After the inciting incident, your protagonist reaches a critical moment: The Point of No Return.

This is where they (your protagonist) must make a choice.

Not something that happens to them—
but something they actively decide.

From this point on, there is no going back.

This is where your story truly begins.

The I WANT Song: The Engine of Your Musical

If there is one moment you cannot afford to get wrong, it’s this:

The I Want Song.

This is where:

We understand who the protagonist is
We understand what they want
And we decide whether we care

This “want” becomes the super objective—the driving force of the entire show.

As Stephen Schwartz puts it:

“Pretty much any successful musical you can name has an I Want Song within the first 15 minutes… the lack of such a moment is a weakness.”

The I Want Song:

Clarifies the goal
Points the way forward
Invites the audience to invest emotionally

If we don’t understand the want—
we can’t root for the journey.

Not All Songs Do the Same Job

In this early section of your musical, you’re balancing three types of songs:

“I Am” songs – who the character is
“I Feel” songs – emotional processing
“I Want” songs – forward-driving desire

The key is this:

Every song must move the action forward.

If it doesn’t—cut it.

Because musical theater is not about expression alone.
It’s about moment to moment action onstage.

This Is Where Most Writers Get Lost

Writers often:

Blur the world instead of defining it
Delay the inciting incident
Avoid committing to a clear WANT
Or overload the opening with exposition that doesn’t move

The result?

A musical that feels slow, unclear, or unfocused—
even if the writing itself is strong.

Most Writers Think They Have This. They Don’t.

Here’s what I see over and over again:

An opening number that doesn’t actually define the world
An inciting incident that comes too late—or isn’t clear
An “I Want” song that’s vague or generic
A protagonist we don’t fully understand or root for

On paper, it all looks right.

In performance, it falls flat.

Because this work isn’t about knowing the terms.
It’s about executing them.

_______________________________________________

Ready for the Next Step?

Once your world is clear and your protagonist’s want is established—

you’re ready for the real work:

Building Act One so it actually drives forward.

Because setting it up is one thing.

Sustaining momentum is another.

Join Workshop 1 as an Observer here

If You Want to Make Your Act One Work…

Our NYC Musical Development Workshop 1: Developing the World & the Want is April 26th at 12 noon ET.
We take what you’ve written —and make sure it functions onstage.

Want to present your work on Sunday April 26th?

Fill our this form here before April 24th

Stay in the loop with our upcoming workshops!

Stay True to Yourself

by Cate Cammarata | Apr 12, 2026 | Directing Theater, Dramaturgy, Getting Produced, Writing Tips

Stay True to Yourself (Or Watch Your Play Disappear)

I’ve been telling our writers something over and over the past few weeks:

Stay true to yourself.

Yes, it sounds generic. It’s not.

I mean it in a very specific way: knowing exactly where your play lands.

Playwrights—especially early and mid-career—are hungry to be produced. And because of that, they become incredibly good at working with notes. They implement changes quickly. They listen closely. They adjust to make the play better.

Especially when the notes are coming from a “successful” director.

And that’s where things can go wrong.

Because in the middle of rewrites, it’s very easy for a writer to lose their way.

And once they lose it—they don’t always get it back.

Let me exlain.

The Mistake That Kills Good Plays

Here’s what just happened:

We had a writer who had done the work. Months of development. The script was strong. Funding was in place. A venue was secured.

We brought in a highly recommended director. Enthusiastic. Experienced. Seemed like the right fit.

At first, everything looked good.

Then we scheduled a table read—because after major rewrites, you have to hear the piece out loud.

What we heard wasn’t the writer’s play.

It was the director’s.

The original piece was about a family navigating grief, disconnection, and misunderstanding.

The new version? A political debate.

Same characters. Same structure. Completely different play.

And here’s the part no one wants to say out loud:

If that version had gone forward and succeeded—it wouldn’t have been the writer’s success.

It would have belonged to the director.

Fortunately, we hadn’t signed the contract yet.

What This Cost (And What It Taught Us)

This wasn’t just creatively frustrating—it was expensive. Time, energy, momentum.

But it clarified three non-negotiables:

1. Stop trying to please the room.
If you’re making changes to keep a director or producer happy, you’ve already started drifting.

2. Know what you want your audience to walk away with.
Not your “message.”
Your impact.

What should they understand, feel, or question when the lights come up? What do you want them to think about on the way home?

If you can’t answer that clearly, someone else will answer it for you—and rewrite your play in the process.

3. Choose your director like it matters—because it does.
Never go with the first “yes.”

Talk to multiple directors. Ask them one simple question:
“What is this play about at the end?”

If their answer doesn’t match yours, they are not your director. Full stop.

Don’t Become the Wrong Kind of Playwright

Let’s be clear:

I am not telling you to become the “resistant playwright” everyone dreads working with.

Collaboration is essential.

But there’s a difference between collaboration and compliance.

If you’re so open that your play can become something different… it will.

And then it no longer is yours.

The Line You Cannot Cross

You can take notes.
You can explore alternatives.
You can rewrite entire sections.

But you cannot lose sight of why you wrote the play in the first place.

Because once that’s gone—

You’re no longer developing your work.

You’re developing someone else’s.

And that is a much more expensive mistake than you think.

Ready to Develop Your Work Without Losing Your Voice?

This is exactly why we built our development pipeline at CreateTheater.

Because getting your work “ready” isn’t about collecting opinions—it’s about strengthening your voice so it can stand up in the room.

Inside our development programs, you’ll learn how to:

Take notes without losing your core idea
Clarify what your play is actually about
Collaborate with directors from a position of strength—not insecurity
Get your work to a place where it’s ready to be seen as you intended it

If you’re serious about developing your play or musical the right way:

👉 Explore our development opportunities here: https://createtheater.com/develop/

Don’t wait until your play has been rewritten into something you don’t recognize.

Build it right from the start.

Don’t Write Passive Protagonists

by Cate Cammarata | Jan 26, 2026 | Dramaturgy, Inspiration, Writing Tips

Stop Writing Passive Protagonists

(Or: Why Your Play Feels Flat Even Though the Writing Is Good)

Let me say something I wish more writers heard early:

Most scripts don’t fail because the dialogue is bad.
They fail because the protagonist doesn’t do anything.

I read a lot of new plays and musicals—early drafts, mid drafts, “this is almost ready” drafts—and one of the most common problems I see has nothing to do with talent or voice.

It’s this:

The lead character is present, but passive.

They’re onstage the whole time.
They have feelings.
They react intelligently to what’s happening.
They talk beautifully about their situation.

But they are not driving the story.

And no amount of lyrical language, clever structure, or emotional insight can compensate for that.

Here’s the core rule of dramatic writing

Strong scripts come from protagonists who make decisions.

They want something.
They choose actions to get it.
Those actions create consequences.
Those consequences force new choices.

That cycle—want → decision → action → consequence—is drama.

If your lead character is mostly observing, responding, processing, or waiting for clarity, the engine never turns over.

Presence is not agency

One of the most common traps writers fall into is confusing being central with being active.

Your protagonist can:

Appear in every scene
Have the most lines
Be emotionally articulate
Be deeply affected by events

…and still be passive.

If the plot would unfold essentially the same way without their choices, you don’t have a protagonist. You have a narrator.

Audiences don’t come to the theater to watch someone understand their life.
They come to watch someone try to change it.

What passive protagonists usually look like

Passive leads tend to fall into a few recognizable patterns:

They are waiting for someone else to decide
They are reacting to crises they didn’t initiate
They spend most of the play talking about action rather than taking it
Their biggest moments are emotional realizations, not choices
Things happen to them far more often than because of them

This doesn’t mean the character is weak or poorly drawn. Often, they’re beautifully written. But dramatically? They’re stuck in neutral.

Want is not a vibe

Another common issue: the protagonist’s “want” is vague, abstract, or purely internal.

“I want to be loved.”
“I want to be seen.”
“I want to understand myself.”

Those are human desires—but they’re not dramatic objectives unless they are translated into concrete action.

A playable want answers this question:

What is your protagonist actively trying to make happen in the world of the play?

Not feel.
Not realize.
Not accept.

Do.

Decisions are the story

Here’s a blunt test I use when evaluating a script:

Can I list the five biggest decisions the protagonist makes?

If the answer is no—or if the biggest moments are things they agree to, discover, or respond to—the script is probably underpowered.

A decision means:

Choosing one option over another
Risking something
Closing off other possibilities
Creating irreversible consequences

If your protagonist never puts anything on the line through choice, the audience never leans forward.

Yes, protagonists can react—but not all the time

“Reactive” doesn’t mean “bad.” You create the situations they react to. But we have to know what they want first, before they react.

Every strong protagonist reacts at some point—usually when circumstances change or when new information blows up their original plan.

This often happens around the midpoint.

They try one strategy.
It fails or creates unexpected fallout.
They reassess.
They choose a new approach.

That shift is compelling because it follows action.

Reaction without prior action is just stasis.

If the antagonist is doing all the work, that’s a problem

Another red flag: the antagonist (or circumstances, or other characters) is making all the interesting moves.

If the most decisive character in your play isn’t your lead, ask yourself why.

Your protagonist doesn’t have to win.
They don’t have to be likable.
They don’t have to be right.

But they do have to initiate.

Craft exercise: upgrade your protagonist

Try this with your current draft:

Write down what your protagonist wants in one sentence.
List every action they take to pursue it.
Circle the actions that were their idea.
Underline the actions that created consequences.

If most of the action is reactive, it’s time to re-engineer the story.

Then ask:

What choice could they make earlier?
What risk could they take instead of waiting?
What happens if they act before they’re ready?

Drama lives in premature action.

The hard truth (and the good news)

Passive protagonists are rarely a sign of bad writing.

They’re a sign of a writer who is being:

Careful
Thoughtful
Emotionally precise
Afraid of breaking something

But plays don’t come alive through caution.
They come alive through commitment.

When your protagonist commits—to a course of action, to a desire, to a flawed strategy—the play finally has something to push against.

Final thought

If you want your script to feel alive, stop asking:

“How does my character feel about this?”

And start asking:

“What do they do next—and why?”

Make your protagonist choose.
Make them act.
Make them responsible for what happens.

That’s not just good writing.

That’s good theater.

Creating Theater in 2023

by Cate Cammarata | Jan 2, 2023 | Dramaturgy, NPD, Producing, Theater

A Watershed Moment

COVID-19 will prove to be the watershed moment in defining the history of the 21st century. Apart from our communal human experience of the virus and its reverberations across the human spectrum, the arts and in particular theater must learn to surf the waves of change.

Remember body surfing the waves when you were a kid? The key lesson was to learn to relax and float on the surface of the water when the wave hit. Resistance and rigidity would result in dragging you down into the undertow – not a pleasant experience.

As theatremakers, how do we relax and float in the face of the tsunami of change hitting our industry? Let me tell you what won’t work: resistance and rigidity, holding tight to the model of what was instead of facing the challenge of what is.

Facing the Wave

The way I see it, the waves of change encompass the economics of theater, audience demographics, and the need for inclusive storytelling models.

First, economically, theater’s been devastated. I’ll leave it to others to provide charts and graphs on the precise numbers, but as a broad perspective we’re facing an industry where many of our brightest and talented workers have left theater (and left NYC) because they needed to survive. Those who stayed are now faced with rising costs on everything, fewer opportunities to work and even fewer opportunities to work on projects they like. Producers and artistic directors are also facing rising costs of everything, including the realization that we must pay our artists a dignified living wage. At the top of this theater food chain, where will this funding come from? Historically artists have been funded by the government, the Church or by wealthy patrons. How’s that working out in the current climate? We must look for a broader economic baseline, much like video and film has had to do earlier. In the meantime, major non-profit arts companies like the Roundabout are making major programming cuts.

Secondly, our audiences are literally dying off. We must change our offerings to suit younger audiences (like the Met’s decision to concentrate more on contemporary work). How do we plug into current culture? By being open to younger artists and taking their creative expression seriously, and being open to embrace the change that’s already here. If art reflects the culture that creates it, we marginalize any artist at our own risk. Remember when Off-Broadway used to be a place for experimentation and risk-taking? Where is that place now (other than TikTok)?

Finally, as times change the way we tell stories must also change. We know that the use of technology has changed the way we process events and tell them. The dramatic imagination is more cinematic and visual than ever before, and it intrinsically changes our storytelling structure. As an industry we must make way for more inclusive storytelling models, not just in terms of whose story we’re telling (although we definitely need more non-western, non-Anglo-centric perspectives) but how we’re presenting these stories. We must allow ourselves space to think outside the proscenium. People today crave experiences where they are immersed in an environment where they retain agency, much along the lines of the interactive video games they grew up with. I’m not saying that we should all follow the Sleep No More model, but marketers around the world have become aware that designing and staging experiences heightens economic value and customer satisfaction. If we want audiences to crave theatre, we have to provide those theatrical experiences in innovative and compelling ways.

Keep Your Eye on the Current

Just as you would never body surf without checking the weather beforehand (at least, not as an adult), so should you understand the cultural and economic currents of the moment. I’m concentrating on smaller cast sizes, deepening audience’ engagement and clarifying the emotional journey. No matter what the story, I’m remembering that essentially theatrical experiences are about the audience’s encounter with the story.

Above all, remember that this moment too will pass. Enjoy the ride and let your audiences do the same.

Are You Getting the Most from Your Readings?

by Cate Cammarata | Aug 22, 2022 | Dramaturgy, New Musical Development, NPD

Now that you know to go virtual (check out my last blog post here) do you know the steps of development? Are you making the most out of your readings?

As a professional theater maker, you need to know what must happen at each step of your script’s developmental journey, and how to get the right audience into the [virtual] room.

What’s the Goal?

If you don’t know the goal, any step will take you there – but you’ll spend way too much money trying to figure it out if you don’t plan out a strategy at the very beginning.

Know your goals before taking the first step, but also know the NEXT step before planning this one.

Usually a table reading is a good first step. It is necessary to “hear” your play read by others, and listen to the feedback afterward. Does it “work”? What are some specific questions that you have – can your readers help you with them? At this stage you’re checking for resonance and engagement. Resist the temptation to listen to each piece of “advice” unless at least three people comment on the same thing, and do a quick “gut check” to see if you agree with them. Important: record the feedback to analyze later.

What would be the next step after this? Another table reading to see if the changes made the script better.

Staged Readings

Staged readings can take place online or in person. Zoom readings are more efficient (and cheaper) and have the added convenience of assembling a team from around the world. If you have a “star” actor or director, this is a good choice, and your online reading should be recorded and shared for archival purposes (more on that later). Check with your AEA representative first regarding union rules of recording readings, since they may have changed.

For musicals, edited staged readings that include prerecorded songs are best. Make sure that you have permission to add your video clips to your website, social media and YouTube accounts.

Sometimes it’s best to produce an in person staged reading. Online readings are tricky for scripts that require a lot of physical comedy and/or lots of physical action. An in person staged reading can make your musical come to life if you arrange your music stands in groups that accommodate “blocking” and can even convey a sense of movement that approximates choreography. Also, for musicals it’s often easier for audiences to feel for the protagonist when they’re “live” (physically in the same room) than when distanced over the internet. However, because of the much greater expense you should only plan an in person staged reading when you’re sure your script “works” by testing it over a few zoom readings.

Plan for this at least four months ahead, as planning is critical. Casting, reserving studio/theatre space, and cultivating the right audience to show up is critical! Don’t underestimate the amount of time, promotion and expense that this may entail. It’s best if you have an interested producing partner (theater, producer, relative) to share the burdens of planning and expenses.

Common goals for a staged reading are:

Find out something about the script, music, dance ( the performative elements)
Promote your show for a higher level of audience (producers, ADs, possible investors)
Use the reading to get a better sizzle reel to show off your work online (YouTube, website, social media)
Use the reading as a chance to “test out” a director or lead actor to see if you want to include them on your ongoing team or to see if they “get” your work,

Do NOT plan a staged reading if your show needs editing or if you know there are still “problems.” An in person reading should only be used if you think your show is “good to go” and want to get it in front on influential people. Otherwise, stick to table reads, where the real work can be done.

Don’t forget to engage a videographer to record your reading for archival purposes! It will help you move to the “next step.”

Final Developmental Readings

Do the best quality staged reading you can afford when you believe you are ready to be produced. After the “29-hour” staged readings above, AEA tiers are used for the development of new works (especially musicals) usually prior to an intended planned production. These tier agreements replace what used to be called the Staged Reading Contract, the Developmental Lab and the Workshop agreements. Although these readings are pricey, they allow for video recordings. Usually these Tier AEA readings would only be held if there is a production already in the works, with a commercial producer or regional theater taking the lead.

This is the top of the development chain, and it means your next step is a full production. Although plays may also use the tiers, I find that they are more useful in the development of new musicals.

New plays are new musicals that are not represented by a commercial producer or a regional theater may still move on to a full production, but these are usually developmental productions like those using an AEA Showcase Code and/or those shows in a Festival.

More on Showcases and Festivals next week!

Have questions? Comment below!

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