You Don’t Have a Writing Problem. You Have a Positioning Problem.

You Don’t Have a Writing Problem. You Have a Positioning Problem.

 

You Don’t Have a Writing Problem. You Have a Positioning Problem.

Many playwrights think the reason they aren’t getting produced is because the script “isn’t ready yet.”

Sometimes that’s true.

But more often?

The play is not being positioned in a way that helps the industry understand:

  • where it belongs,
  • who it’s for,
  • why it matters now,
  • and why a theater should invest in it.

That’s not a writing problem.

That’s a positioning problem.

And positioning is one of the most overlooked career secrets in theater.

Because here’s the uncomfortable truth:

Regional theaters aren’t just selecting “the best plays.”
They are selecting:

  • plays that fit their audience,
  • plays that fit their mission,
  • plays they know how to market,
  • plays that help them raise money,
  • and voices they understand how to champion.

If industry professionals can’t quickly understand where your work fits in, they move on.

Not because your writing lacks talent.

But because your work feels difficult to place.

 

The Industry Needs a Clear Narrative

When artistic directors, literary managers, producers, or development staff talk about writers among themselves, they simplify.

Not maliciously. Practically.

They say things like:

  • “She writes elevated working-class dramas.”
  • “He’s doing smart political satire.”
  • “They’re developing commercially viable musicals.”
  • “She writes female-driven dark comedies.”
  • “He’s very good with intimate family plays.”

That becomes your positioning.

And if you don’t shape that narrative intentionally, the industry will either:

  1. Create one for you, or
  2. Not remember you at all.

Ouch.

Many playwrights unintentionally position themselves as:

  • “all over the place,”
  • difficult to categorize,
  • perpetually developing,
  • or unclear in voice and audience.

That doesn’t help anyone want to produce your work.

Theater institutions are risk-averse.
Clarity reduces perceived risk.

 

“But I Don’t Want to Be Put in a Box

This is where many writers resist positioning.

They think:

“I don’t want to limit myself creatively.”

You’re not limiting your artistry.

You’re creating a recognizable entry point.

The industry needs to find a way into your work.

Once audiences and theaters trust your voice, you can expand.

But until then, clarity matters more than range.

If every bio, every submission, every website page, and every conversation describes your work differently, people cannot create a coherent understanding of you as an artist.

And confusion stops momentum.

 

Regional Theaters Need Specific Things

Another big mistake that playwrights make is assuming theaters are looking for “great writing” in the abstract.

They’re not.

Regional theaters are looking for plays that solve their problems.

That may sound cynical, but it’s actually empowering once you understand it.

A theater may need:

  • audience-friendly new work,
  • plays with flexible casting,
  • small-budget productions,
  • stories that connect to their community,
  • work that attracts younger audiences,
  • diverse programming,
  • or material that fits a specific initiative or grant.

Your job is not merely to write a play.

Your job is to understand:

Why would THIS theater want THIS play right now?

That changes how you position your work.

 

Stop Pitching Your Play Like a Student

Also, many playwrights still describe their work academically instead of strategically.

They focus on:

  • themes,
  • symbolism,
  • inspiration,
  • process,
  • or what the play “means.”

But theaters are evaluating:

  • audience connection,
  • producibility,
  • casting,
  • scalability,
  • relevance,
  • and programming fit.

Compare these two descriptions:

Weak Positioning

“A poetic exploration of grief and memory examining the fragmented nature of identity.”

Stronger Positioning

“A funny and emotionally grounded four-person drama about two sisters forced to run their family funeral home after their father’s death.”

One sounds abstract.

The other sounds clear.

One creates questions.

The other creates possibility.

 

Your Career Is Not Built One Submission at a Time

Another major misconception:

Writers are led to believe their careers are built through isolated opportunities.

One submission.
One contest.
One reading.
One fellowship.

Instead, sustainable careers are built through cumulative positioning.

Every piece of public-facing material should reinforce the same narrative:

  • your artistic voice,
  • your audience,
  • your scale,
  • your strengths,
  • and your producibility.

That includes:

  • your website,
  • your bio,
  • your play descriptions,
  • your social media,
  • your interviews,
  • your workshop applications,
  • and even how you introduce yourself in rooms.

The industry is constantly asking:

“Do we understand this writer?”

If the answer is yes, opportunities accelerate.

 

The Most Producible Writers Understand Alignment

The playwrights who consistently gain traction are not always the most talented.

They are often just the clearest.

They understand:

  • which theaters align with their work,
  • how to talk about their plays,
  • how to describe audience appeal,
  • how to communicate scale,
  • and how to frame themselves professionally.

They make programmers’ jobs so much easier.

And that matters more than mosts writers realize.

 

Ask Yourself These Questions

If you want to strengthen your positioning, start here:

1. What kind of experience do audiences have at my plays?

Are they laughing? debating? crying? intellectually challenged? emotionally comforted?

2. What theaters would realistically produce my work?

Not aspirationally. Practically. Have they produced similar work in the past? Do your research.

3. What budget level does my work require?

Can your plays be produced regionally without enormous financial risk?

4. What recurring themes or styles appear across my writing?

Your voice is often more visible to others than to yourself. Ask your friends and colleagues what they see.

5. Can someone describe my work in one sentence?

If not, your positioning may be too diffuse.

 

You Are Not Just Writing Plays

You are building:

  • artistic identity,
  • industry trust,
  • audience expectation,
  • and professional clarity.

That doesn’t mean becoming “commercial” or “generic.”

It means becoming understandable.

Because when theaters can clearly see:

  • where your work fits,
  • who it serves,
  • and why audiences will care,

your chances of being produced rise dramatically.

Not because your writing suddenly improved.

But because your positioning did.


If you want to learn how to write and position plays that regional theaters actually want to produce, join our upcoming webinar:

Write a Producible Play

We’ll cover:

  • what makes a play attractive to theaters,
  • common mistakes writers make,
  • how producers evaluate submissions,
  • and how to develop work with real production potential.

Because great writing alone is rarely enough.

The industry also needs to know what to do with you.

If this opened your eyes to how producers actually evaluate your script…

Then you’ll want to be in the room for our live training:

Write a Producible Play Webinar on May 30th

 Off-Broadway Producer Patrick Blake and I will walk you through exactly how to check your work so it’s not just compelling, but something a producer can get on board with.

Stay in the loop with our upcoming workshops!
What Makes a Play Producible?

What Makes a Play Producible?

What Makes a Play Producible

Every playwright wants the same magical sentence:

“I want to produce your play.”

But here’s the truth nobody tells you:

A producer is not just evaluating your script.

They’re evaluating:

  • whether they can afford your script,
  • whether they can market your script,
  • whether audiences will buy tickets to your script,
  • and whether you are someone they actually want to work with for the next several years.

That’s the real game.

In a recent CreateTheater webinar, Off-Broadway producer Patrick Blake broke down what producers are actually thinking when they read a play or musical.

And honestly? Every playwright should hear this before sending their next script out.

Because producibility is not about “selling out.”

It’s about understanding how theater actually gets made.

A Producer Is Asking Three Questions

Patrick said it best:

A playwright has to:

  1. Find a producer
  2. Get a producer to want to produce the show
  3. Get a producer to want to work with them

That’s it.

That’s the whole ecosystem.

Most writers only focus on #1.

But #2 and #3 are often where plays die.

First: Is the Story Worth Producing?

This sounds obvious, but producers are still human beings first.

They have to love the piece.

Patrick talked about reading scripts he adored artistically — but ultimately passed on because the economics didn’t make sense.

And here’s the important nuance:

A producer does not need your play to be “commercial” in the Broadway sense.

But they do need to believe:

  • it can find an audience,
  • it can sustain a run,
  • or it can advance the theater/company’s mission.

That means your play needs:

  • a compelling story,
  • active characters,
  • a strong structure,
  • clear stakes,
  • and something emotionally or culturally fresh.

Not “perfect.”

Just undeniable.

Producers Think in Salaries

This part of the webinar made everyone laugh — because it’s painfully true.

Patrick said:

“Writers think in characters. Producers think in salaries.”

A playwright sees:

  • two children,
  • a dog,
  • a chorus,
  • and a musician onstage.

A producer sees:

  • union contracts,
  • insurance,
  • payroll,
  • pensions,
  • overtime,
  • and replacement costs.

That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t write ambitiously.

It means you should understand what your ambition costs.

One of Patrick’s examples was a play set in a monastery library with a beautiful spiral staircase leading to a second level.

Only one actor used it.
Once.

The playwright insisted on keeping it because:

“It looks cool.”

The producer passed.

Why?

Because “cool” costs money.

The staircase meant:

  • more construction,
  • higher insurance,
  • more risk,
  • and a bigger budget.

And none of it fundamentally served the story.

That’s the difference between theatrical imagination and producible execution.

Big Difference: Necessary vs. Expensive

This is where playwrights often get defensive.

But the real question is:

Does this element deepen the storytelling?

Or…

Is it there because you’re attached to the image?

That distinction matters.

Producers are constantly calculating:

  • Can this recoup?
  • Can this tour?
  • Can this fit into a regional theater?
  • Can this be mounted Off-Broadway?
  • Is there a simpler way to achieve the same emotional effect?

That doesn’t mean “write small.”

It means:

make every expensive choice earn its existence.

The Best Writers Know How to Take Notes

This was one of the most important parts of the conversation.

Patrick and the group talked about playwrights who refuse every adjustment, every production consideration, every logistical concern.

And here’s the hard truth:

That reputation spreads.

Fast.

The writers who keep getting produced are not necessarily the writers who say “yes” to everything.

They’re the writers who stay collaborative.

A producer wants to feel:

  • you can solve problems,
  • you can adapt,
  • you can communicate,
  • and you won’t become impossible once rehearsals begin.

One of the best phrases mentioned in the webinar was:

“I’ll think about that.”

Not defensive.
Not reactive.
Not precious.

Just open.

That openness keeps conversations alive.

Find the Right Producer

This was another huge takeaway.

Most playwrights submit blindly.

But producers specialize.

A producer who develops experimental immersive work is different from:

  • a regional theater artistic director,
  • a Broadway commercial producer,
  • an Off-Broadway nonprofit,
  • or a family theater company.

Patrick recommended researching:

  • Tony nominees,
  • theaters producing similar work,
  • and producers already developing projects in your lane.

In other words:

stop pitching horror musicals to children’s theaters.

Find alignment.

Then build relationships before making asks.

That’s how theater actually works.

Relationships Matter More Than You Think

Theater is deeply relational.

Patrick talked about how playwrights often approach artistic directors with:

“Here’s my script.”

But the stronger approach is:

“How can I help?”

Volunteer.
Attend readings.
Support other artists.
Be part of the ecosystem before expecting the ecosystem to support you back.

People produce work by people they trust.

That’s not cynical.
That’s theater.

Attachments Only Help If They Actually Help

This section was fascinating.

Writers love attaching:

  • directors,
  • actors,
  • dramaturgs,
  • collaborators.

But attachments are only valuable if they:

  • help raise money,
  • help sell tickets,
  • or help attract industry attention.

A famous actor? Helpful.

Your cousin who “really gets the play”? Less helpful.

That doesn’t mean don’t collaborate.

It means understand the producer’s perspective.

Every attachment changes the equation.

Sometimes positively.
Sometimes not.

Social Media Matters Now

Patrick made a point that every playwright needs to hear:

Your online presence has become part of your producibility.

Because audiences are fragmented now.

And producers want to know:

  • Can you help market this?
  • Do you have an audience?
  • Do people already engage with your work?
  • Can you fill seats beyond your immediate friend circle?

This doesn’t mean becoming an influencer.

But it does mean:

  • building an email list,
  • staying visible,
  • and participating in the conversation around your work.

The writers who understand this are easier to say “yes” to.

Here’s the Good News

A producible play is not:

  • smaller,
  • safer,
  • less artistic,
  • or less ambitious.

A producible play is a play that understands:

how theater actually gets made.

That’s the difference.

You can still write the wild vision.
You can still dream big.
You can still create spectacle.

But the writers who consistently move forward are the ones who understand both:

  • the art,
  • and the logistics.

That’s what producers are looking for.

Not perfection.

Partnership.

Final Thought

Patrick said something near the end of the webinar that stuck with me:

Producers focus on the business side of theater. Writers who understand that become far more attractive collaborators.

And honestly?
That’s the shift.

The moment you stop seeing producers as gatekeepers and start seeing them as creative partners, your entire process changes.

Because producibility is not about compromising your vision.

It’s about learning how to build a bridge between the page and the stage.

If this opened your eyes to how producers actually evaluate your script…

Then you’ll want to be in the room for our live training:

Write a Producible Play Webinar on May 30th

 Off-Broadway Producer Patrick Blake and I will walk you through exactly how to check your work so it’s not just compelling, but something a producer can get on board with.

Stay in the loop with our upcoming workshops!

Why Most Plays Don’t Get Produced (And What To Do About It)

Why Most Plays Don’t Get Produced (And What To Do About It)

Why Most Plays Don’t Get Produced (And What To Do About It)

There’s a persistent myth in the theater world: that good work rises to the top.

It’s comforting. It’s also incomplete.

Because if you’ve spent any time developing new work, you already know the truth: plenty of good plays never get produced. Not because they aren’t worthy—but because they’re not yet producible.

And that gap matters.

If your goal is production (not just expression), you need to understand what’s actually standing in the way.

Here are five of the most common reasons I’ve found that plays stall—and what you can do about each one.


1. Your Play Needs More Development

This is the big one.

Most plays don’t get produced because they’re simply not ready yet.

Not “bad.” Not “broken.” Just underdeveloped.

Maybe the structure isn’t landing.
Maybe the central action isn’t clear.
Maybe the ending doesn’t deliver on the promise of the premise.

From the outside, it might feel done. But from a producer’s perspective, it still requires too much work to justify the risk.

What to do:
Stop thinking in terms of “finished” and start thinking in terms of functioning.

  • Does the play land consistently with an audience?
  • Are the stakes clear and escalating?
  • Does it deliver a cohesive theatrical experience?

If not, the next step isn’t submission—it’s development. Workshops. Readings. Targeted rewrites.

This is where most producible plays are actually made.


2. Your Show Is Too Big (For Where You Are Right Now)

Scale kills more projects than quality ever will.

A 15-person cast. Multiple locations. Complex tech. Challenging casting requirements.

That might be the right version of your piece someday—but if it requires a level of funding that doesn’t yet exist, it becomes very hard to interest a producer to sign on now.

Especially in early stages, most investors and producing organizations are looking for something they can mount efficiently. They want a clear path to a return (artistic, financial, or reputational), and they want it soon.

Long, expensive development processes – while absolutely necessary – are a much harder sell.

Which is admittedly difficult on the writers, I know.

What to do:
Ask yourself a hard question:

  • Can this piece exist in a smaller, more producible form right now?
  • Can the cast be reduced?
  • Can the world be simplified?
  • Can the storytelling carry the weight without expensive elements?

This isn’t about compromising your vision. It’s about creating an entry point for the piece to initially get on its feet.


3. Your Story Is Too Personal (And Not Yet Universal)

“Write what you know” is good advice—until it isn’t.

A story that is deeply personal can be powerful. But if it stays only personal, it often doesn’t translate.

Producers aren’t just asking, “Is this meaningful to the writer?”
They’re asking, “Will an audience see themselves in this?”

If the piece doesn’t connect to a broader human experience—love, loss, ambition, identity, belonging—it becomes harder to program, market, and ultimately produce.

What to do:
Interrogate the core of your piece:

  • What is this really about?
  • What human question is it asking?
  • Where does the audience enter the story?

You don’t need to dilute your voice. You need to frame it so the audience can find themselves inside it.

This is a big one that many writers miss.


4. There Are No “Big Names” Attached

This one is less about art and more about reality.

Recognizable names—actors, directors, producers—reduce perceived risk. They help sell tickets. They attract investors. They signal credibility.

Without them, your project has to work harder to prove itself.

That doesn’t mean you can’t get produced. It means the package matters more.

What to do:
If you don’t have big names, build strength elsewhere:

  • A clear, compelling concept
  • A strong track record of development (readings, labs, workshops), or your own stong writing record.
  • A passionate, aligned team that is on board with your show.
  • Evidence that the piece lands with audiences. (Again, this is big – proof of concept.)

Momentum can substitute for notoriety—but you have to create it intentionally.


5. You Don’t Have the Relationships (Yet)

Theater is collaborative—and relational. This is an industry driven by personal relationships.

Most opportunities don’t come from cold submissions. They come from conversations, recommendations, and ongoing professional relationships.

If producers don’t know you—or don’t know your work—it’s much harder for them to take a chance on you.

It’s much harder to get them to come to readings, or to read your submission.

What to do:
Shift from “submission mode” to “relationship-building mode.”

  • Attend readings, galas and other industry events
  • Support other artists’ work
  • Build genuine connections over time
  • Stay in touch with others in the industry. You never know where someone you know will go.

This isn’t about networking in a transactional way. It’s about becoming part of the professional theater community where work actually gets made.


The Real Shift: From “Good” to “Producible”

Here’s the throughline:

Most plays don’t get produced because they lack merit—but because they’re not yet aligned with the realities of production.

That alignment includes:

  • Craft (a fully functioning script)
  • Scale (a feasible production model)
  • Story (a clear, resonant core)
  • Package (elements that reduce risk)
  • Relationships (pathways into the field)

When those elements come together, things start to move.


Final Thought

If your play isn’t getting produced, the question isn’t:

“Is this good enough?”

It’s:

“What is this play missing to become producible?”

That’s a far more useful—and actionable—question.


CTA

If you’re ready to move your work from draft to production-ready, the next step is focused development.

My Write a Producible Play Lab on May 30th with Off-Broadway producer Patrick Blake is designed to help you:

  • Clarify your story engine
  • Strengthen structure and stakes
  • Shape a piece that lands with an audience—and a producer

→ Applications are open now.

If this opened your eyes to how producers actually evaluate your script…

Then you’ll want to be in the room for our live training:

Write a Producible Play Webinar on May 30th

 Off-Broadway Producer Patrick Blake and I will walk you through exactly how to check your work so it’s not just compelling, but something a producer can get on board with.

Stay in the loop with our upcoming workshops!

What a Producer Looks For in a Script

What a Producer Looks For in a Script

What a Producer Looks For in a Script

Most writers think producers are looking for “great writing.”
They’re not.

They’re looking for a show they can actually produce.

There’s a painful truth most playwrights don’t hear early enough:

A script can be brilliant—and still never get produced.

Why? Because producers aren’t just evaluating a story.
They’re evaluating story + structure + scalability + relationships.

Here’s what they’re actually looking for:

 

1. A Clear, Compelling Concept

If you can’t explain your show in one sentence, you don’t have a show—you have an idea.

“Six innocent people on death row.”
That’s a show.

2. A Fresh Take on a Familiar Story

There are no new stories. Only new perspectives.

The question is:
Why this version? Why now?

3. Strong Structural Spine

Beginning. Middle. End.

If your first 15 pages don’t establish:

  • the world
  • the protagonist
  • the central conflict

You’ve already lost us.

4. A Protagonist Who Wants Something

Not vaguely. Not internally. Not philosophically.

Actively. Urgently. Passionately.

No want = no action.

5. Active, Onstage Drama

If your play is primarily people sitting around talking…

…it’s just not interesting.

6. Distinct Characters

If everyone sounds the same, and looks the same…

You don’t have interesting enough characters to hold our attention.

7. Clear Theatrical Language & Devices

Flashbacks?

Immersive theater?
Stylized staging?

We don’t go to the theater to see everyday life—we go to experience a new world or story told in a new way.

Establish your storytelling devices early.

8. Musical Integrity

Songs must:

  • advance story
  • reveal character
  • keep us entertained

Otherwise, they’re just good songs. Not musical theater songs.

9. Producibility

This is where most scripts die.

Producers are thinking:

  • How large is the cast?
  • How complex is the set?
  • Can this draw an audience?

If it’s not producible, it’s not viable.

10. A Collaborative Writer

This is the hidden gem.

Producers aren’t just choosing scripts.

They’re thinking:
“Do I want to be in a long-term relationship with this person?”

What are producers really looking for in a script?

Great writing gets attention. But it’s not the only thing we look for.

Producible writing gets produced.

And the writers who understand that difference?
They’re the ones who build careers.

If this opened your eyes to how producers actually evaluate your script…

Then you’ll want to be in the room for our live training:

Write a Producible Play Webinar on May 30th

 Off-Broadway Producer Patrick Blake and I will walk you through exactly how to check your work so it’s not just compelling, but something a producer can get on board with.

Stay in the loop with our upcoming workshops!

Stay True to Yourself

Stay True to Yourself

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.

Why Most New Plays and Musicals Stall in Development

Why Most New Plays and Musicals Stall in Development


Why Most New Plays and Musicals Stall in Development

(And What Actually Moves Them Forward)

Let’s say the quiet part out loud.

Most new plays and musicals don’t stall out because they’re bad.
They stall out because the people making them are doing many different things—but not building momentum.

If you’re a playwright or musical theatre writer, this probably sounds familiar:

You’ve had a reading. Or three.
You’ve gotten “great feedback.”
People say things like, “This has real potential.”
You’ve revised… and revised… and revised again.

And yet?

Nothing is actually moving forward.

No next step.
No clearer path.
No traction with the industry.
Just a vague sense that your show is perpetually “almost ready.”

Welcome to development purgatory.

At CreateTheater, we see this every day—not because writers aren’t talented, but because development is deeply misunderstood. The industry rarely gives creators experience on how projects move from script to stage. So new writers especially default to what feels productive instead of what actually is productive.

Let’s talk about the real reasons shows stall—and what to do instead.


Reason #1: You’re Confusing Activity With Progress

This is the #1 killer of new work momentum.

Readings. Workshops. Feedback sessions. Script swaps. Festivals. Another round of notes. Another rewrite.

It feels like progress because you’re busy. You’re doing “writer things.” You’re engaging with the community. You get to invite friends an family to the “next exciting step.”

But activity is not the same as movement.

Progress means:

  • The show is clearer than it was before

  • The next step is more specific

  • The circle of people invested in the project is growing

  • Someone new can now say “yes” to it

If your development doesn’t change the trajectory of the project, it’s not progress—it’s maintenance.

One of the hardest truths for writers to accept is this:

You can be working very hard on the wrong thing.

Endless activity without strategy doesn’t move a show forward. It just exhausts the creator.


Reason #2: You Don’t Have a Development Path—Just a Pile of Experiences

Most writers approach development like a buffet.

“I’ll do a reading here, a festival there, maybe a workshop if I get in, and then… we’ll see.”

There’s no order. No logic. No sequence.

But development isn’t a grab bag. It’s a path.

Every strong development journey answers three questions:

  1. What is the show right now?

  2. What does it need next?

  3. What does that step make possible afterward?

Without that clarity, writers bounce between opportunities that don’t build on each other. They get stuck doing early-stage development forever—or they leap ahead before the work is ready.

This is why shows stall after their “first good reading.”
That reading wasn’t connected to a plan.

A reading is not a strategy.
A workshop is not a roadmap.
A festival is not a guarantee.

Development only works when steps are intentional.


Reason #3: You’re Collecting Feedback Instead of Making Decisions

Let’s be blunt: feedback does not move a show forward.

Decisions do.

Writers are often told:
“Let <insert name> take a look at it.”
“Get more feedback.”
“See how audiences respond.”

So they do. And do. And do.

But no one teaches them how to filter feedback—or how to decide what actually matters right now.

As a result:

  • The script gets pulled in multiple directions

  • The writer keeps “fixing everything”

  • The core problem never gets addressed

Development becomes reactive instead of strategic.

Here’s the insider truth:
Producers don’t care how many notes you’ve gotten.

They care whether you:

  • Know what the show is

  • Can articulate what you’re working on

  • Can explain why certain choices were made

Strong development isn’t about pleasing everyone.
It’s about choosing intentionally.

If your revisions aren’t driven by clear priorities, your show will stall—no matter how smart the feedback is.


Reason #4: You Don’t Have an Advocate (And You’re Trying to Do Everything Alone)

Shows don’t move forward because scripts are “good.”

They move forward because someone pushes them forward.

A producer.
A director.
A dramaturg.
An artistic leader.
Someone who is willing to say, “I believe in this, and I’ll put my name behind it.”

Many writers try to carry their projects solo for far too long. They pitch, submit, rewrite, and plan entirely on their own—assuming that once the script is “ready,” support will magically appear.

That’s not how it works.

Advocates don’t arrive at the end.
They’re part of development itself.

Without an advocate:

  • Opportunities don’t stack

  • Introductions don’t happen

  • Momentum dies between steps

One of the most important development realizations a writer must understand is this:

The goal is not just to improve the script—it’s to expand the team.

If your development process never brings new people into the project, you’re building in isolation. And isolation is where shows stall.


Reason #5: There’s No External Pressure For the Next Step

Deadlines are not the enemy of creativity.
They’re the engine of it.

Many shows stall simply because nothing is forcing them to move ahead.

No timeline.
No accountability.
No concrete next step.

“I’ll revise when I have time.”
“We’ll plan another reading down the road.”
“I’m waiting until <insert current excuse>.”

That’s not a plan. That’s avoidance dressed up as patience.

Professional development includes:

  • Target dates

  • Clear milestones

  • Real-world consequences

External pressure doesn’t mean rushing.
It means structure.

At CreateTheater, one of the biggest shifts writers experience is realizing how much lighter the work feels once there’s a framework holding it. When they understand that they’re not making decisions about their work alone.

When everything lives in your head, it stalls. 
When it lives in a structure, it moves.


Reason #6: You Think the Show Is Further Along Than It Is

This one stings—but I see it over and over again.

Writers often overestimate where their show is in the development life cycle. Not out of ego (usually)—but out of hope.

They start pitching too early.
Submitting too early.
Asking producers for things the show can’t yet support.

Then they hear:
“Not ready.”
“Come back later.”
“Interesting, but…”

And the writer loses confidence in their own process.

Every stage of development has different goals:

  • Early development = discovery and clarity

  • Mid development = structure and alignment

  • Late development = readiness and team-building

When you skip steps, you don’t move faster—you stall harder.

One of the most powerful things a creator can say is:

“This is where the show is, and this is what it needs next.”

That clarity builds trust.
Advocates lean in to help the show with a clearly defined path.


Reason #7: You’re Waiting for Permission Instead of Building Leverage

Many writers believe the next step in development requires someone else’s approval.

A theatre has to say yes.
A producer has to say yes.
A festival has to say yes.

But shows gain momentum when creators build leverage—not when they wait.

Leverage looks like:

  • A clear artistic identity

  • A strong development narrative

  • A team forming around the work

  • Proof that the creator understands the business side

Industry professionals are far more likely to engage when a project already feels in motion.

Waiting to be chosen is a stall strategy.
Building readiness is a momentum strategy.


So What Actually Moves a Show Forward?

Momentum comes from structure.

From understanding:

  • Where the show is

  • What it needs next

  • Why that step matters

It comes from:

  • Intentional development, not random opportunities

  • Decision-making, not endless note-reviewing

  • Team-building, not isolation

  • Strategy, not wishful thinking

This is why CreateTheater exists.

Not to give more feedback.
Not to run endless readings.
Not to keep writers “busy.”

But to help creators:

  • Build development paths that make sense

  • Align their work with industry realities

  • Create momentum that compounds

Because talent is everywhere.
What’s rare is clarity.

And clarity is what keeps shows from stalling.


If you’re tired of feeling like your show is stuck—if you’re ready to stop spinning your wheels and start moving forward—then it’s time to stop moving in circles and start developing with intention.

Momentum doesn’t come from doing more.
It comes from being guided by people who understand how this industry actually works.

New plays and musicals don’t need another round of opinions. They need experienced judgment, clear sequencing, and development that happens in conversation with the professional field — not in isolation from it.

At CreateTheater, development is mentored deliberately, not randomly nor academically.

We work inside professional industry standards. We ask the questions producers, artistic directors, and programmers ask behind closed doors. We help writers understand not just what needs work, but why — and which choices will materially change how the project is received.

That means:

  • Development decisions grounded in professional reality

  • Projects shaped by people who know how shows move in NYC

  • Writers who aren’t left guessing at the next step

Shows don’t move because someone “likes” them.
They move when they’re built with clarity, pressure, and guidance from people who know the system.

That’s how work advances in this city.
And that’s the work CreateTheater exists to do.