Year Zero has been nominated for a Jeff Award for new work! That definitely goes into the I Love Chicago file.

Congratulations to Victory Gardens on their ten (!) total nominations, and congratulations too to all of this years' nominees. The play is in very good company, and I'm just glad to be here along with it.

Dream Cast: As you all know, my favorite video game of all time is Fallout 3. I have literally played this video game for a hundred hours. I would play it for a hundred more hours if I could. Anyway, this October its de facto sequel (and the true spiritual successor to Fallout 2) is coming out: Fallout: New Vegas.

One of the most amazing things about New Vegas: Its voice cast. Danny Trejo. Ron Perlman. Felicia Day. Michael Dorn and Rene Auberjonois of Star Trek fame. Kris Kristofferson. WAYNE NEWTON. All of them, together in a video game with robots that takes place in post apocalyptic Las Vegas.

We are still the greatest country on earth, people. The terrorists are losing.

1) Support it: This is very important. Like it was said in Ratatoullie, "The new needs friends." Anything that's great and wonderful needs friends to spread the word about it. It needs both physical and emotional support in order to continue to grow and reach more people. Plus spreading the word about something good makes me look good -- it's basic evolution. The smart chimp that leads all the other chimps to tasty food receives +30 EXP so he can level up faster. I am mixing metaphors here, but you know what I mean.

Plus if people don't know what good is, then it's difficult for them to know what bad is. So let them know what's good.

2) Study it: This is equally important. Whenever I say, "Huh, I really liked that," the next question I pose to myself is, "Why did I really like that?" At the beginning I may not be so sure why. But something definitive begins to settle in my mind: I liked it because of the story. I liked it because of how it made me feel. These are usually broad generalizations.

And so I begin to take apart the generalization. I liked the story because it was well-constructed. How was it well-constructed? I take the thing apart structurally on paper, see how A led to B led to C, while D was going on the entire time. Part of my personality has always involved an obsessive curiosity with figuring out how things work. Given enough time and scrutinization, I firmly believe I can figure out how most stories work.

The key here for me is to not look for things that I liked that reinforce my current beliefs -- i.e., if I watch Star Trek-related things, I will automatically like them because I already like Star Trek, and they're selling something that I automatically want to buy. What really gets me going is when stories/shows/productions show me something new, something that I hadn't seen before. Or they show me things in a new way that I hadn't anticipated. The best is when I'm surprised.

That's real magic right there, because when I take the thing apart and study it, I am guaranteed to learn something brand new.

I spent last week in everyone's favorite Second City -- where people work hard and humbly as a team and meat is always on the menu. A week in Chicago is always welcome, especially for an event such as this: The Ignition 2010! new play festival.

It was staged readings of six great plays by new playwrights. One of the best things on earth, ever, is to be able to sit in on a rehearsal and not have to do anything -- to not have to take notes regarding rewrites you need to do later, to not have to act and make adjustments, to not have to direct anything or anybody. Just being a fly on the wall is awesome fun because you can just observe the process -- and that is almost as enjoyable as seeing the finished product.

The week was almost ruined however when I realized that my favorite encased meat emporium was closed because its proprietor is on vacation!! When I saw that news I literally screamed "NOoooOOoooo!!!" at my ceiling. I'd done that before, but this time it was not ironic. However, your friend Rick and I got to have a nice Italian Beef sandwich at Potrillo's, which was extra special b/c it was Rick and his wife's first visit to Chicago. I like my Italian Beef wet with sweet peppers -- not too wet, because al dente is important to me. We also had a nice walk down to Millennium Park as well.

So I came back on Saturday and immediately contracted some kinda food poisoning that night. I think I did it to myself -- I was cooking spinach and maybe I didn't cook it enough. That night I developed a fever and some weird feverish infinitely-looping dreams, waking up every couple of hours and staring bug-eyed at the alarm clock. All throughout Sunday I was laying about feeling weird, weak, and dead, and then on Sunday night I was almost back to normal -- and today I was fine.

It was like some kinda sweat lodge-like purification ritual -- like I had to die and be resurrected in order to return to my life here. When I woke up this morning I felt fantastic, like a different person. Maybe it was some sort of act break. It was mysterious. I should cook my spinach more.

So wait -- back to the Ignition Fest: Six plays, all very good. I read all of them, and I can say that I would be willing to produce any of these six plays myself if I could. The choice for Victory Gardens is going to be a tough one (they have committed to producing at least one of the six), but in the end I'm sure that we'll see more of all of these plays and playwrights in the future. I'm looking forward to returning to VG sometime soon -- and hopefully at that time, Hot Doug's will be open for business.

I recently re-read this script I wrote six years ago, and it was exactly like getting punched in the kidneys. You see all these problems and issues and you have plenty of notes for this hack -- but you already know that this hack is you. I'm my own worst critic -- I think everyone is.

"You beat yourself up a lot," said a friend of mine recently when I told her this.

The thing is, if I didn't feel incredible hatred and animosity toward my own problematic writing -- if I was satisfied with my work and pat myself on the back and let myself go, then I'd have a serious problem. Because then I wouldn't know what was good and what needed work. Everything would just be "OK" -- but nothing is ever okay. Things can always be better.

So it's incredibly painful to re-read old work. But it's gotta be done for it to get better. The pain has even sorta gotten delicious to me in a weird way. Kind of like running can be painful in a cathartic way -- it is a cleansing pain. And every now and then I forget who wrote the thing and I think, "Oh man, what a dumbass" -- mere moments later realizing that that dumbass is ME.

I saw Inception today. It was only the second film I've ever seen by myself -- all my friends have already seen it, plus I've been having strong desires lately to see a movie by myself.

It was pretty great! I'm not just talking about the movie but also the experience. I got a large popcorn and a hot dog, and the requisite artillery shell of Diet Coke. I got in right during previews and there were a million seats left (it was the 12:30 pm show). It's a different experience from seeing it with other people. More involving in a way. It also feels like the filmmakers are communicating only to you instead of putting on a show.

Plus if you've seen the movie you know that it's a good movie to see by yourself. When the show was over and I walked back out into the daylight I checked my Totem and it felt the right way, so I let myself relax... For now.