"You've written musicals before, haven't you?" an associate of mine inquired.
It seems that two women she knew - and whom I’ll call Gwen and Sybil - were looking for someone to develop both the stage and film script for a score they’d written about a tortured Italian artiste.
Thinking it could be fun, I asked them to send a synopsis. I also invited them to a fave Pasadena bistro to chat over a glass of wine. If I'd had my wits about me, I would have further instructed my fave waiter, Andrew, to rescue me after the first 10 minutes.
They arrived arm in arm, a tall woman and a short one, both clad in gossamer black and sporting perky English accents reminiscent of the Pigeon Sisters in The Odd Couple. They instantly stepped forward as one unit to embrace me.
"We're so thrilled to meet you," Gwen (the composer) gushed, "aren't we, Sybil?"
"Oh yes," Sybil (the lyricist) agreed, "simply thrilled."
I casually inquired how long they'd known each other.
"Oh practically forever," Gwen replied, fondly reaching across the table to squeeze Sybil's hand. Sybil's eyes sparkled conspiratorially as she turned to me and confided, "We were witches in a prior life..."
Judging by their Goth ensembles, I was inclined to believe this was a predilection they still clung to.Granted, I consider myself open-minded enough to smile politely when strangers tell me they're aliens, angels, or whatevers. Hey, you never know. In the event they actually do possess strange powers, I don't want to get on their bad side by suggesting they might possibly be - well, nuts.
"So what's your favorite musical?" Sybil asked.
"We need to make sure you’re the right match," Gwen explained.
"A toss-up," I replied, "between The Music Man and Beauty and the Beast." I asked what their favorites were.
"We just adored Urinetown!" Gwen replied.
"Oh yes," Sybil chimed in. "We've seen it 15 times!"
I began to sense the creative divide between us was steadily growing wider.
"So what did you think of our synopsis?" they eagerly queried in unison.
"To be honest--"
"Oh yes, please do," they insisted.
"Well, I really don't see there's enough 'there' there for a full-scale production."
Gwen glowered. "But we've already been approached by a major—"
"Yes, very major—" Sybil reiterated."—producer who thinks it’s sheer brilliance."
"That's great," I replied, "but the main characters just aren't very likable and maybe if—"
"We think they're likable," Sybil archly interrupted.
"What’s wrong with you that you didn’t like them?" Gwen challenged me.
"I just didn’t find them compelling."
"You don’t know them like we do," Sybil countered.
"There are also a lot of loose ends," I pointed out. "I feel as if something’s missing."
"That's because we didn't give you the whole thing," Gwen said.
"We didn't want you to steal it," Sybil added.
"But you're certainly welcome to tell us your ideas," Gwen continued.
I resisted the urge to ask how I could be sure they wouldn't engage in a little thievery of their own. Instead, I nudged the conversation toward their plan for handling credits and royalties.
"Well, since there are two of us and one of you," Sybil explained, "it’s rather obvious you'd get the smaller share."
"Five percent should be about right," Gwen opined.
"But you're asking me to write the entire script," I reminded them.
They giggled - or rather, cackled - in stereo. "Yes, but it's only a few words here and there to string the songs together. It's not as if you're doing any actual work..."
As the evening crawled to a much welcomed close, they mentioned they still had two more playwrights to interview.
"Just one more question," Sybil said. "How do you like Sonia the Pet Psychic?"
"Uh - excuse me?"
"We absolutely adore her!" Sybil gushed.
"She’s a goddess!" a starry eyed Gwen said.
"We couldn’t possibly work with anyone who didn’t adore her as much as we do," Sybil confessed.
"We make our husbands watch her program every week," Gwen added.
Husbands? Had they really meant to say ‘familiars’? I tried to imagine what type of men would be married to them. As we parted company and they wafted out to valet parking to reclaim their brooms, I paused at the bar to talk to Andrew about a screenplay of his I’d been reviewing.
"So how did it go with the lesbians?" he asked.
"Actually they’re witches," I corrected him.
"Lesbian witches? Cool. What did they want?"
"Hopefully not to turn me into a hamster by morning for not liking their musical."
Andrew drolly contemplated this a moment. "Could you read my script before then," he asked, "just in case?"
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Former actress and director Christina Hamlett is an award winning author and professional script consultant whose credits to date include 25 books, 125 plays and musicals, and 5 optioned feature films.