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!

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

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

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.

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?

Stay in the loop with our upcoming workshops!

How to Beat the Feedback Freeze and Keep Moving Forward

How to Beat the Feedback Freeze and Keep Moving Forward

What to Do With Notes When You’re Feeling Stuck

You’ve just had a table reading and got feedback on your new musical or play.

Oof. You sit through the conversation, scribble some notes. And suddenly, your brain goes silent.

Everything you’ve done feels wrong. You don’t know where to begin. Why didn’t they get it?

Welcome to the feedback freeze, that uncomfortable post-notes paralysis where you’re too overwhelmed to revise, but too self-aware to keep drafting blindly.

We’ve all been there.

The good news? This moment doesn’t mean you’re failing—it means you’re creating something. It means you’re growing as an artist. And if you let it, this moment can become the most transformative part of your process.

Take a deep breath (and maybe take a couple of days), and let’s look at this a bit differently.

Yes, it can be overwhelming. Here’s some tricks that my writers use to move through the freeze and keep creating. 

Feel First. Don’t Fix. Not Yet.

Before you do anything practical with you feedback—feel your feelings. Let yourself be annoyed. Defensive. Confused. Crushed. Whatever. Allow your feelings to be.

Feedback can feel personal, even when it’s not. The important thing is to give yourself space to emotionally digest before deciding what to do.

Try these:

  • Journaling your gut reactions
  • Taking a walk or 24-hour pause
  • Reminding yourself: Notes are about the work, not your worth

Processing first means you won’t overcorrect or reject ideas just because they hurt.

Sort the Useful from the Noise

Not all feedback is created equal. Some notes are gold. Others are well-meaning… but not necessarily correct for your work.

Ask yourself:

  • Does this feedback align with what I’m trying to make? Does it feel right somehow to me? Is it something that I’ve suspected myself?
  • Is it pointing out a real problem, even if the suggested fix isn’t right?
  • Have I heard this more than once?
  • Do I trust the feedback given from this particular individual?

Create three buckets:

  • Definitely Use
  • Maybe/Needs More Thought
  • Not Helpful for This Draft

It’s important to let your own artistic sense and goals guide the filter before you change even a single word in your script.

Build a Feedback-to-Action Workflow

Once you’ve sorted everything out, translate your top notes into clear, bite-sized actions.

Instead of “make the second act tighter,” try:

  • “Cut 5–7 minutes from Act 2”
  • “Clarify character X’s decision at midpoint”
  • “Reorder scenes 7 and 8 for better momentum”

Think like a director giving yourself cues. Make it actionable.

Use tools like:

  • A revision spreadsheet
  • Sticky notes by scene on the wall
  • Index cards with individual notes per moment

The goal: to transform abstract feedback into a concrete to-do list instead of stewing in your thoughts.

Give Yourself Time—But Not Too Much

You don’t have to implement feedback right away. In fact, rushing can lead to muddy drafts.
But beware the other trap: overthinking yourself into a corner.

Instead, try:

  • Setting a date to revisit the notes with fresh eyes
  • Giving yourself a short feedback “cooldown” window—3 to 5 days max, then taking another look
  • Schedule a “next step” writing session before you feel totally ready

You’ll get clarity faster when you’re back in motion and thinking clearly.

Set Mini-Goals Based on the Notes

You don’t have to fix everything at once.

Start with one mini-goal:

  • “Improve the inciting incident’s clarity”
  • “Revise character B’s final song lyric”
  • “Draft a new scene that addresses note X”

Each small step rebuilds your momentum. And the more you do, the more your confidence returns.

Remember: Feedback is fuel. Not a final verdict.

You’re an artist. A writer. The builder of this unique and interesting world. Notes are there to support your vision—not replace it.

So feel your feelings. Take what helps. Break it into action. And keep writing the story only you can tell.

Want a community to help you process and act on feedback?
Think about joining our Writer’s Residence, the Experts Theater Company.