Writing Tips | CreateTheater

How to Beat the Feedback Freeze and Keep Moving Forward

by Cate Cammarata | Feb 24, 2026 | The Working Playwright, Theater, Writing Tips

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.

Click Here to Learn about ETC

How to Make Progress When You Don’t Know Your Show’s Ending Yet

by Cate Cammarata | Feb 8, 2026 | Inspiration, Theater, Writing Tips

For Playwrights and Musical Theater Writers Who Thrive in Discovery Mode

You’ve got a great setup. Characters who pop. A world that feels rich with possibilities. But there’s just one little issue…

You have no idea how your show ends.

Or you have an idea, but it’s not landing yet.

Sound familiar?

If you’re a playwright or musical theater writer trying to write a new piece without a clear roadmap, you’re not alone—and you’re not doing it wrong. Sometimes the ending comes to us first, but then other times it doesn’t. We’ve created characters first, maybe, but we can’t quite nail the ending.

What to do?

This is very much on my mind currently, as I’m producing a play to open in June and, well, the ending still hasn’t “revealed itself.” Yikes.

Plenty of brilliant, finished shows started out as messy, half-formed drafts written by writers who trusted the process before they knew the destination.

Here’s some suggestions we’re using to keep making progress on your new script without knowing the ending yet.

Embrace “Discovery” Writing

Not everyone writes from an outline—and that’s okay. Discovery writing (also called “pantsing”) means you find the story by writing it. You let your characters talk, get into trouble, and surprise you. It’s organic. It’s chaotic. And it can lead to some of your most original ideas.

The key is to stay curious instead of panicked. If you don’t know where it’s going yet, that’s not a failure—that’s fuel. You’re exploring the terrain while building the map.

Explore Your Characters’ Wants and Raise the Stakes

When you can’t see the end, zoom in on your characters’ desires. What does each of them want—emotionally, practically, spiritually? What’s in their way?

The more clearly you understand what’s driving them and the obstacles in their way, the more naturally plot points and conflicts will arise. Ask yourself:

What would they do next to get what they want?
What would challenge them the most?
What are they afraid of losing?

The answers might lead you to your next scene—or your eventual ending.

Write the Middle with a Flexible Mindset

The middle of your show is where things evolve, deepen, and get complicated. Even without a firm ending, you can write scenes that test relationships, raise the stakes, and introduce twists (typically the midpoint reversal) that excite you.

Be flexible. If a character veers off course or a subplot emerges unexpectedly, follow it for a bit. Revision is where you make it neat. Drafting is where you let it be messy and alive. Have more fun with this! The more fun you have now, the more fun your audience will have later.

Use “What If” Scenarios as Your Daily Prompts

Stuck? Try “what if” questions to jumpstart your writing:

What if the antagonist suddenly helped the protagonist?
What if the lovers don’t end up together?
What if someone makes the wrong choice and it spirals?

These prompts don’t have to “fit” your eventual structure. They’re experiments to discover new layers in your story. Some might stick. Others might spark ideas you didn’t expect.

Track Your Theme and Emotional Arcs

Even if the plot isn’t clear, your theme can be. What are you trying to say? What feeling or idea keeps bubbling up as you write? What “gift” are you wanting to give the audience at the end?

Track how your characters are emotionally changing from scene to scene. Are they getting closer to something? Losing something? Growing?

Emotional arcs can anchor your show even before the structure is solid. If you follow the emotional truth, the ending often reveals itself when the time is right.

Keep Going, Even If It’s Imperfect

A draft doesn’t have to be linear. It doesn’t have to be “complete.” It just has to exist.

You’ll revise. You’ll cut. You’ll rewrite the ending three times. But if you stop writing because you don’t know where it’s going, you’ll never find out.

So trust your instincts. Let the show teach you what it wants to be. And remember: the ending might not be what you planned—but it might be exactly what your show needs.

Remember, a play is never “finished” – it’s just produced.

What We’re Doing Now:

Among other things, I’ve hired a director who lives in the world of the play, and a really smart playwright/dramaturg who does not. It helps to have divergent opinions to fully round out the characters clearly.

We’re having heady intellectual and psychological discussions between the four of us (playwright, producer, director and dramaturg) about every character, motive, and scene, reviewing the moment-to-moment stakes and thoughts motivating action. Over Zoom, as we’re working artists with commitments out of NYC.

We’re reviewing external documents that shape the issues in the world of the play together, to fully understand the lived experience of the family we’re portraying, and the issues they believe in.

Heady stuff, but all in all an exhilarating creative process. And I know the show will benefit from this research.

Your Turn:
How about you? Are you writing a musical or play without knowing the ending yet? What helps you keep going?

Share the way you go about your creative process (or pose questions) in the comments! We’d like to hear what you do.

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.

Building Your Musical One Song at a Time

by Cate Cammarata | Jan 14, 2026 | Musicals, Theater, Writing Tips

How Daily Songwriting Habits Can Move Your Musical Forward

Writing a musical can feel like climbing a mountain (I see you singing the song right now) —and doing it alone makes the peak look farther and steeper.

And definitely harder.

Here’s the truth: the best musicals aren’t written in giant leaps. They’re built one song at a time.

If you’re a playwright or musical writer dreaming up your next show, it’s time to think of songwriting as a daily habit, not as a once-in-a-while burst of genius.

Yes, life gets crazy busy. You don’t have to tell me! But if our goal is to write a musical, it won’t write itself. So – let’s explore five practical ways you can build your musical steadily and intentionally every day, starting today.

Isn’t the new year the time to begin a new routine, to make sure that get what’s really important in life?

1. Balance Book Scenes with Musical Moments

Before diving into the music, zoom out and look at the big picture: where should a song live in this scene? Or maybe, does this scene need a different song?

Every song should earn its place in your story. It needs to do something mere dialogue can’t do as well—

capture a surge of emotion
reveal a character’s inner world/fears/dreams
escalate a situation beyond words.

So, as you’re outlining or drafting your book, ask yourself:

Is this a “song moment”? Song spotting is a skill that gets better with practice.
Would music elevate this scene? Remember, when the emotion gets too high to speak, characters sing.
Is the character emotionally charged enough to sing? Tweak the lead up to the song, and maybe increase the stakes for the character in the story.
Keep the energy moving in the scene. Watch the overuse of ballads, and always look for a more active song choice. Extra kuddos if you make it fun!

Think of your songs as emotional anchors in the book. When you spot one, jot it down—even if it’s just a placeholder title or emotion. That’s your cue to imagine a new song and start writing.

2. Create a Songwriting Ritual (Lyric, Melody, or Both)

Like any craft, songwriting grows with consistency. Whether you’re a lyricist, composer, or both, carve out daily (or at least weekly) time just to concentrate on your musical.

Your ritual doesn’t need to be long or fancy:

20 minutes each morning with your coffee
A lyric brainstorm on your lunch break
Improvising melody ideas in voice memos during walks

Some writers work melody-first. Others start with lyrics. Some begin with a hook or a strong concept. The key is to find your rhythm and make it regular.

Even allowing yourself permission to write one “bad” song per day – to just get something down – will push your musical forward. Chances arre your song won’t really be that bad.

Rituals remove the pressure to be brilliant and replace it with permission to explore. You’re not writing a perfect song—you’re developing a habit that builds momentum. Every day.

3. Build a Song Map for Your Show

A song map is your musical’s emotional and narrative blueprint. It’s a living document that tracks:

Song titles or ideas
Who sings
What the song accomplishes
Where it lands in the story

It helps you spot pacing issues, character arcs, and tonal shifts. More importantly, it shows you what to write next by showing you what you still need in your show.

Think of it like a musical’s table of contents. You can even color-code it: solos vs. duets, reprises, ensemble numbers, etc. This gives you structure—and structure fuels creativity.

4. Know When to Collaborate (and When to Wait)

If you’re not writing both music and lyrics, collaboration is inevitable—but it doesn’t have to be immediate.

In fact, having a few lyrics or scenes sketched out before bringing in a partner can give your project clarity and momentum. It also helps you:

Attract the right collaborator
Share your vision clearly
Avoid starting from a blank page together

Once you have a few ideas or songs drafted, start the conversation. Look for someone who complements your style and shares your storytelling values. Chemistry is everything in a creative partnership.

5. Use Tools to Demo Songs on Your Own

Don’t wait for a fancy studio to bring your songs to life. You can build simple, expressive demos with tools you already have.

Try these:

Voice Memos (iPhone/Android): Sing lyrics or melody ideas on the go.
GarageBand (Mac/iOS): Record vocals over instrumentals, add loops, or play with arrangements.
Logic Pro / Ableton / FL Studio: More advanced DAWs for fuller demos.
Noteflight / MuseScore: Score and share written music easily.
Audimee: “Audition” different AI voices to create demos using different characters
Suno: upload your song into Suno to brainstorm different instruments or rhythms, to modulate a new ending, or to even switch your song into a different musical genre.

Even if you’re “not a singer,” your voice can still carry emotion. A rough demo is better than a silent idea—it makes your work feel real, and that feeling fuels progress.

Final Thought: Songs Tell Stories

Each song you write adds dimension to your characters and shape to your story. So don’t wait for inspiration—create space for it for it to happen.

Make sure that your song begins in one place and moves over the three minutes to end in a diffeent place.

Build your musical one habit, one page, and one song at a time, with a routine that works every day.

Your mountain isn’t as high as it looks when you climb it step by step.

Want to find the perfect collaborator this year?

Register for the FREE CreateTheater Jumpstart January Event on January 31st!

The Daily Draft: How to Avoid Getting Lost Rewriting the Same Scene

by Cate Cammarata | Oct 28, 2025 | Inspiration, NPD, Theater, Writing Tips

Ever find yourself “working on your show” for hours… only to realize you’ve just reworked the same five lines over and over again?

Yeah, it happens to everyone.

Rewriting is the very essence of writing—but if you do it too soon, it can also become a trap. You start chasing polish when what you really need is momentum.

Let’s talk about how to move forward, not in circles.

Why Rewriting Too Early Can Stall Momentum

Early rewrites feel productive. You’re refining! You’re crafting! But sometimes, you’re just treading water—you’re avoiding the possibility of new pages, new choices, and possibly taking a greater narrative risk.

Why? You can’t refine what doesn’t exist yet.

If you keep rewriting Act One before you’ve written Act Two, you might be perfecting a setup with no payoff—or worse, writing yourself into a corner.

You need to get all of your early ideas into a “vomit draft.”

Draft First, Refine Later

There’s a reason “write a terrible first draft” is classic advice.

Your first goal is completion, not perfection. That raw, messy first draft will give you the whole shape of the story—so when it’s time to revise, you’re sculpting something solid instead of trying to polish fog.

Think of it like building a set; you can’t paint trim before the walls are up.

3 Tips to Follow with Early Drafts

Want to make future rewrites easier and stay in forward motion? Try using these tried-and-true tips as you get that first draft down.

1. Leave Notes for Future You

Instead of rewriting a scene, jot down notes: [This moment feels flat. Add more tension.]
Keep going. Come back later.

2. Highlight Instead of Fixing

Use bold or colored highlights to mark moments you know need work. That way you don’t break your flow mid-draft.

3. “Scene Zero” Writing

Write exploratory scenes (monologues, backstory moments, offstage events) that don’t go in the draft. It really helps to develop your characters and context without stalling progress, especially when you’re in that delightful space of working the play out in your head.

Timeboxing: Write Fast, Rework Smarter

Try giving yourself clear windows for writing and revising:

Drafting Window (30–60 minutes): Write forward only. No edits.
Revision Window (15–30 minutes): Review past scenes or make light adjustments.

Keep the two separate, ideally on different days. Writing and editing are two separate processes; don’t combine them.

How to Know When It’s Actually Time to Rewrite

Not sure if you’re stalling or genuinely need to rework a scene, an act or an opening number? Ask yourself:

Does this rewrite fix a story-level issue (stakes, arc, clarity)?
Do I have a complete draft—or am I trying to polish the puzzle without all the pieces?
Will revising this now help me move forward—or just feel safer than starting a new scene?

If your answer leans toward progress, go for it. If not, trust the draft and keep going.

Did Your Writing Group Get It?

One of the benefits of having a writing group is that it’s one of the best places to try out your new scenes. If there are any questions, any confusion about what’s happening, or thoughts about whether your new pages are too expository, pushing the action forward sufficients or stalling it, your writing group will let you know.

If it’s a good writing group. We’ve got some really good ones. (Check out ETC if you’re interested…)

Final Thought: Forward Momentum Is a Skill

You don’t need to “earn” the right to finish a draft. You need to build the habit of finishing.

Let your first drafts be messy, unfinished, imperfect. Give yourself a chance to find the story and live with the characters before you try to fix it.

Because no one ever polished a scene that didn’t exist.

Want help turning this into a daily writing habit?
✨ I’ve got a free worksheet for that—just say the word.

Get The Daily Ritual Builder Now

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Tips to Write Characters So Real They Practically Pay Rent

by Cate Cammarata | Sep 1, 2025 | Inspiration, Theater, Writing Tips

You’ve got a great premise. You’ve outlined a killer plot. But your characters? They’re… fine.

They’re saying all the right things, but somehow, it’s just not clicking. It’s like they’re reading cue cards instead of living inside the world of your play or musical.

And delivering over your message? Well … they sort of feel lost. (What message?)

Here’s the truth: characters aren’t just there to deliver information. The best characters change things. They drive the action forward. And when they speak? What they say shifts the story and holds your attention through the rest of the play.

Often writers tell me that they write “character-driven” plays. That’s great – but sometimes your characters can write themselves into a corner and leave you stuck figuring how to get them out.

Or characters can act erratically, even in character, but still not help you deliver over the message you need to give to the audience at the end.

So, how to write characters that embody your action and are able to deliver over the message at the end?

Start incorporating character development not as a one-time brainstorm—but as a daily habit.

Spend 10 minutes every day talking with one of your characters. Live with them. Make them real.

Are Your Characters Are Just Mouthpieces or Real People?

If your characters feel flat, check for these red flags:

Every character sounds the same
They speak (or worse yet, sing) in exposition—telling the audience what’s happening instead of showing us through their active choices
One’s dialogue could be swapped into another character’s dialogue – and no one would notice
They never make decisions that impact the course of the story or drive the action forward.

If that sounds familiar, don’t worry—it’s fixable. Definitely fixable!

Here’s where to start.

Daily Character Interrogation Prompts

Get into the habit of checking in with your characters daily. See what’s going on with them.

Ask them questions as if they’re real people—because in the world of your story, they are. And you have to know them intimately.

Try asking them one of these questions each day while you’re plotting out your play:

What are you most afraid of right now?
What’s your secret that nobody knows?
Who in this story do you love—and why haven’t you said it?
What do you want from this next scene?
What lie are you telling yourself?

You don’t need perfect answers. The goal is to listen—not force a response. Let them reveal themselves to you.

Exercises to Let Your Characters Surprise You

Sometimes we try to control our characters too tightly. Loosen your grip! Let them surprise you.

Try this:

Write a scene you would never include in the show—a dream sequence, an imaginary fight, a childhood memory. See what comes out.
Monologue from the antagonist’s POV. What do they think the story is about?
Put your character in a modern-day situation (e.g. at the DMV, on a dating app, stuck in traffic). How do they behave?

The goal isn’t formula — it’s discovery.

Use Dialogue as Action

In theatre, sometimes dialogue is the action. It should do more than express thoughts—it should create tension, reveal stakes, and push decisions.

Before you write a scene, ask yourself:

What does each character want in this moment?
How are they using their words to get it?
What’s at risk if they don’t? In other words, what are the stakes?

If characters are truly pursuing goals that are important to them, their dialogue becomes active—even explosive.

That’s what you want, because that’s what makes your play interesting.

(You can also read another blog post “Writing Active Dialogue” here.)

Tie Character Arcs to Plot Structure

A story isn’t just about what happens. It’s about who it happens to—and how it changes them, moment by moment. And how the audience follows the action.

As you build your plot beats moment to moment, track your character arcs alongside them:

What belief or behavior must your protagonist unlearn?
Where in the story does that belief get tested?
Where’s the point of no return when they make a choice they can’t take back, and must plow ahead no matter the cost?

When character transformation is tied to your structure, revealed moment by moment, scene by scene, the audience understands the character and the journey.

Final Thoughts

Characters shouldn’t just talk—they should take up space, demand things, break things, fix things, move the whole story forward. They should be interesting. And the more time you spend with them—not just writing them, but living with them and listening to them—the more alive they become, for the other characters and for your audience.

So try this: Spend 10 minutes today talking to one of your characters. Ask them what they want. Then put something in their way. See what happens next.

Make them real enough to pay rent (in NYC).

That’s when the real fun begins.

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