Rules For Plays With Cousins

Writing

1. When we first think of the idea, there must be tears and fighting about casting.

2. Once we’ve settled the casting, we must think it is the best idea EVER.

3. I go home and start writing. I must use Rafael as my spot for bouncing off ideas. It does not matter if he accepts this or not.

4. I must stare at a blank piece of paper a lot, wondering why the idea that works so well in my head doesn’t work as well on paper.

5. Inspiration must strike at random, horrible times – like two in the morning or during a test.

6. I must call at least one part of the play “stupid” at least once.

7. I must stare at my writing and want to rip it apart, claiming it’s horrible and canned and will never work.

8. I must believe that I got myself into too much.

9. I must give myself ridiculously hard musical stuff to do, and I must be stubborn about doing it myself. (Incidentally, the previously mentioned incredibly generous friend, who is also a much-too-talented musician, must insist that “anybody can write music”.)

10. I must stress about rehearsal timing.

11. I must ultimately get everything done and be able to deal with it.

The Story (This is the only part of this that contains actual rules instead of simple truths.)

1. Somebody must give some sort of an intro.

2. I must have at least one tricky song.

3. Olivia and I must do at least one duet (this didn’t happen in the second play).

4. Rafael and I must fight (this didn’t happen in the first play).

5. There must be one song where we all hold hands and spin in a circle.

6. Olivia must act hypocritical at least once (this didn’t happen in the first play, either).

Practicing

1. I must believe that this is never going to work.

2. There must be at least one horrible practice.

3. Olivia must misbehave and refuse to practice piano.

4. Rafael must quit at least once.

5. I must be the most responsible, and get told such at least once.

6. Lydia must be an angel and try to get Marcelo to come; he must refuse.

7. Emily must want to do headstands while wearing a skirt.

8. There must be at least one song I’m freaked out about.

9. I must bribe kids with candy.

10. The performance must end up much better than we ever believed, and we must be really proud after performing and have the most fun we’ll ever have.

Post-Performance: Editing

1. I must nag my dad insufferably to convince him that I really, really do want those videos right away.

2. The computer must die at least once.

3. I must literally collapse on top of the computer at least once.

4. I must cringe at at least one part of my performance (generally the aforementioned terrifying song).

5. I must have at least one picture where I look dead. This picture must be crucial to the pictures section. (It was worse the second time. There was a whole series of pictures where I look dead. Smudgy eyeliner and I are not friends.)

6. I must praise everyone else’s acting, and say that “I’m doing awful.” Everyone else must do the same with their own acting. Some may agree that I am doing awful. Usually, they are my siblings.

7. When we get done, we must eat dinner on the sofa watching the play, now transferred to a DVD.