First published in paperback in the United States in 2013 by
The Overlook Press, Peter Mayer Publishers, Inc.

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Copyright © 2013 by Neil LaBute

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.

ISBN: 978-1-4683-0848-8

Contents

Praise for the plays of Neil LaBute

About the Author

Also by Neil LaBute

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

Preface

Reasons to be Happy

for john lahr

“just do what must be done.”

—G.B. SHAW

“if you want to be happy, be.”

—LEO TOLSTOY

“i once had a girl, or should i say, she once had me.”

—LENNON/MCCARTNEY

PREFACE

You can’t go home again.

Somebody said that—certainly once or twice before Thomas Wolfe made it famous—and while it’s obviously not true in the literal sense, it certainly should be a rule to live by (unless you left something at home that’s really important in which case I’d suggest hurrying there, getting it without talking to anyone and then leaving again very quickly, preferably by the back door). Life goes on and so it should and we all learn the hard way that we outgrow our childhood bedrooms and our school halls and even our families themselves. It’s wonderful to look back on our individual and collective pasts, sometimes with fondness and sometimes with regret, but to live in that place is the equivalent of being stuck. It’s healthy to keep moving forward and trying new things. That’s not to say forget about Mom and Dad and Sis and Uncle ———— (fill in the blank) but all of us, especially those who make a living by turning the page and exploring new worlds each night on the stage, need to keep moving toward the horizon and pushing ourselves to conquer the next audition, the next role or the next production. Theater doesn’t allow us to rest on our laurels for long; the life of a play is short (unless you’re Andrew Lloyd Webber) and suddenly the curtain comes down for a final time and we have nothing but a program and some photos to show our friends and family who didn’t make it out to see the play and we’re out of a job. By its very nature, there is a magical quality to a play on stage—now you see it, now you don’t.

As a writer, I am someone who keeps trying to create new characters in new stories and pushing myself to surprise my audience with something that feels both new and familiar. I’m not complaining—I love my work. I’m at my best sitting in a darkened auditorium, working with actors and technicians to create an evening of theatrical entertainment. In life I can be indecisive or distant or cowardly or secretive or just plain human. I come to life in the artificial surroundings of the playhouse. I don’t know why that is—I only know and believe it to be true. This isn’t always the case, of course, nothing is always true, but often enough to call it a “truth.” Ironically, I am getting better at living as I get closer to dying but that’s enough of that. Who wants to be so damn honest at a time like this? The publication of a new play is always a time of celebration for me; the chance to leave a record of my very ephemeral life in the theater behind is a pleasure indeed.