I finished reading an Alan Ayckbourn play today, Haunting Julia. It's very clever. On stage I think it would be authentically scary, and horribly sad. It's playing in town right now, a Chicago premiere. I haven't seen the production. I'm tempted to go. But reluctant, too.
I usually enjoy reading his plays, but I'm often - not always, just often - unhappy when the play is done.
I am in awe of his craft.
But sometimes I feel like I'm left on a raft
in a sea