The L.A.- and Seattle-based playwright has a busy 2025, starting with the recent premiere of Empty Ride at the Old Globe and continuing with You Are Cordially Invited to the End of the World! at South Coast Repertory (April 5-May 3) and Gorgeous at Raven Theatre (May 1-June 7).
What’s your elevator pitch as a playwright?
I think of my work as fast-paced and comedy-forward, while tackling big themes and packing an emotional punch.
You’re starting the year with three world premieres. How are you managing that?
I have some major ADHD, which can actually be a superpower in juggling multiple projects. I usually focus on a different project every three to five days, which gives me the capacity to look at projects with a fresh set of eyes, but allows me to stick with something enough to get a substantial amount of work in once I gain momentum. I try to be relatively organized—I spend a lot of time in my iCal, figuring out which scripts need to be prioritized at that moment and scheduling in blocks of writing times.
What’s your go-to form of self-care during busy times like these?
I try to run—I’m terrible at it!—just to clear my mind and build endurance. But I’m basically a 12-year-old boy. I play Nintendo. I watch anime.
All three plays examine loss in one way or another. What draws you to that subject?
We had some big family losses in 2020, when we were all feeling so isolated, which really brought to the forefront some big questions about death: Is death inherently sad? What is a legacy? How do we move on from the death of a loved one? These are big, intense questions! By writing characters that are trying their best to answer these but keep lying to themselves and each other—which is so human—the scripts keep turning out kind of funny.
What’s a piece of art you love that you feel doesn’t get talked about enough?
Anything Bernardo Cubría writes. I don’t understand how everyone didn’t program his play The Hispanic/Latino/Latina/ Latinx/Latiné Vote at every theatre in spring or fall of 2024. And his play Crabs in a Bucket at Echo Theater Company in L.A. was absolutely delightful. I’ve read a bunch of his other plays too—there’s a lot of clown and absurdism. I love his voice. He should be produced more.
What’s the craziest piece of theatre you’ve ever seen?
When I was doing a summer program in Amsterdam during college, we saw this immersive show outside. It was pouring rain, and we were all wearing little ponchos. A car swerved off the road a few miles away and started hurtling toward us. The car stopped in front of the water tank, an actor got out, and the show began.
What gives you hope?
It seems like there’s been a shift, where people who were considered “marginalized” are being encouraged to write beyond just one aspect of their identity, like race or sexual preference, and now it’s like, “Okay, given this one aspect of your identity, what else do you have to say?” It’s so exciting.
What would your younger self think of you now?
I think she’d be surprised by how relaxed I am. It’s of course partially the privilege of being a working artist now, versus squeezing in creativity between shifts at a restaurant and having virtually no actual rest time. Still, I always had this idea that to be a real artist, you had to be kind of anxious and miserable and tortured and starving. I think she’d be surprised that you can make good art and still take time for yourself, eat well, sleep well, and have healthy relationships.
