Words Words Words

                          Words, Words, Words    ___________________    by    Kiefer Nemeth                                       

Leon Evans​:   Stephanie Miller​:

Cast of Characters    A writer in his early 20s.  A woman in her early 20s;  Leon’s girlfriend.   

                                                  Scene    Leon’s study, where he writes his novels.     Time    The present. 

SETTING:

  AT RISE:

Scene 1    We are in the study of LEON EVANS  and STEPHANIE MILLER, a dark and  mostly empty room, save for one  large, old desk in the center. On  it sits both a laptop, closed and  set aside, and a typewriter, old  but well-cared for. Also on the  desk are various papers, sticky  notes, a pile of folders in one  corner, and a Christmas themed  mug. Attached to the front of the  desk is a poster for a television  show titled ​The Serious Network​,  with a picture of a man pointing  to a globe, subtitled “Global  warming? But I’m still paying my  heating bill!” It is a satirical  variety show. To the right of the  desk is a wastebin, opaque and  metal. A light hits the floor  downstage right, signifying a  window. The evening is advanced,  and the apartment is quiet.  LEON sits at his desk, typing  tentatively on his typewriter. He  has dark, longish hair held out of  his face by a clip. His peach  colored button-up shirt is  unbuttoned at the top, revealing  his white undershirt. Wireframe  glasses sit low on the bridge of  his nose. After multiple spurts of  typing, LEON stops and pauses for  several moments. Then he  decisively pulls the paper from  the carriage, folds it carefully 

in half, then leans over and drops  it gently into the wastebin. He  replaces it, begins typing, then  stops immediately. With a sigh, he  leans back in his chair. His hands  slip from the keys and into his  lap. He takes a beat.   LEON  Words... Words. Words, why won’t you work? Isn’t that your  purpose, what you were created for? You are designed for  the sole function of semanticity, and yet this--  (LEON kicks over the wastebin,  revealing countless neatly  folded papers sitting uselessly  in it.)  This means nothing. Someone could read any of these and  have no idea what you’re trying to say. That doesn’t make  any sense. You have meaning as individual units. I know  that “shoe” describes the creatively sewn slab of leather  on my foot, but somehow altogether, it’s lost.   (LEON, collecting himself,  realizes he can’t leave the  papers strewn across the floor.  He kneels down to pick them all  up and return the bin to its  vertical state. He stops to  unfold a few of the pages as he  stands.)  “Of to was hand if loss yes must the sit.” There. Random  words strung together. No meaning, no coherence. Is this  what you take me for? Countless attempts and I get nothing  more than effortless and pointless dribble. Why must you  insist on putting me through this torment? The information  in my mind is my own, and yet you withhold it from me. I am  a prisoner to what you allow me to communicate. I find it  funny, to be manipulated by that which man created for the  very intention of finding control. That’s a good question  though, why we use you so religiously. I mean, in reality  all you do is call attention to all of the concepts we 

can’t simply point to and grunt. Maybe that’s a bit  pessimistic. There’s got to be some concrete idea that I  can get across. That’s all I need to do: make someone,  anyone understand. I’m sure it would be plenty easy to  convey that I’m an absolute lunatic. Hell, I’ve surpassed  speaking to inanimate objects and begun speaking with  abstract concepts.   (LEON sits back down at the  typewriter to take another swing  at continuing his writing  endeavor. Shortly after,  STEPHANIE walks into the room.  She is in business attire, just  returned from the attorneys’  office. Her long, dirty blonde  hair, in a ponytail, looks like  it has been blown by a powerful  fan and liberally treated with  hairspray. She only wears  mascara at this point. If she  were to wear more makeup, by the  day’s end, mascara would be all  that she was left with.)    STEPHANIE  Hey, Leon. I’m only in to let you know I’m home.   (STEPHANIE walks to LEON, puts  her hands on his shoulders, and  leans over to kiss the top of  his head.)  Good to see you’re getting some work done on your novel.  Anything to share or do you need me out of your hair?    LEON  Your timing is perfect, actually. I was just making some  great headway in it.     STEPHANIE 

You were? That’s great, although I have to admit I’m  surprised, considering the ranting I could hear all the way  down the hall as I came in. I must say, from what I heard,  the words sounded like they were flowing pretty well.           LEON  Believe me, they had other plans. I think they have written  somewhere on their schedule for the day, “make Leon’s day  hell.”  STEPHANIE  (Making her way to the trash bin  to read discards.)  I think you’re being a bit dramatic.    LEON  I am a writer, after all.     STEPHANIE  Really, though, you’re writing a novel. This is supposed to  be making you happy. It is something you’ve chosen to do on  top of all the work you already do.    lEON  Yeah, well the “work” I do is standing behind a counter for  hours on end selling books to strangers. If I didn’t have  something outside of that, I would go mad. Although I’m not  certain the preventive care is doing its job.     STEPHANIE  (The care in STEPHANIE’s eyes is  obvious, although she remains  firm and confident in order to  stabilize LEON.)  At least you’re working in a bookstore, around something  you love. Plus you work daily on searching and applying for  jobs that you actually want to do. Have you heard back from 

any of the newspapers you’ve contacted? With the experience  you have in journalism, one of them is bound to see some  value in you.     LEON  None of them have seemed interested so far. That’s why I’m  trying to get this novel finished as fast as I can.     STEPHANIE  “That’s” why? What exactly is “that?” If efficiency is  really your biggest concern, then you would be using the  computer sitting right next to you instead of a dusty old  typewriter. Is there some fantasy going on in your head  that I’m not on the same page with?    LEON  (LEON stands finally and makes  his way to the window to release  the built up content of his mind  into the outside air.)  If I don’t get a real job, then self-publishing is all I  have going for me. It’s my one grip on the rest of  humanity, my one opportunity to make a mark. It’s my  legacy. That’s no fantasy, only fact. I’ve dedicated too  much life to my goal of becoming an author to make any  life-changing decisions about my career. We’re not in  college anymore.    STEPHANIE  That’s ridiculous.    LEON  That I can’t make any big economic changes right now? No, I  thi-    STEPHANIE  No. Not that. “Becoming an author?” Are you suggesting that  you are not? You write every single day, excitedly,  obsessively. Novel aside, at breakfast you chuckle to me 

about posts you make on Goodreads discussing the book you  just read. When you come home for lunch right as I’m  leaving to go back to work, you ask me if I read the blog  post you made reviewing the local theater group. And I tell  you no, but I’ll read it later. Then I don’t find time  until right before bed, but I still love it. Some days I  come home and just dip in to say hello because you’re so  engrossed in your story. You hide it from me, Leon, but I  see your smile as you sit there and type. You are an  author. Don’t give me any bullshit considering otherwise.    LEON  Having confidence in who I am and claiming that my works  are legitimate isn’t going to put any money in my pocket.  It won’t put my name in any stores. The only way I can make  anything happen is through dedication and putting something  on the shelves to get my name out there. This novel is the  only thing holding me back.     STEPHANIE  This novel is supposed to be part of who you are, what  drives you forward. You are letting it control you, giving  it this sort of sentience that allows it to be separate  from you. This is your creation. Make it for you.    LEON  This isn’t for me. I am not the audience of this novel.    STEPHANIE  (Losing her patience.)  Who is it for then, Leon? Who are you planning on changing  the life of?    LEON  What? No. Well-- I mean, me. My life. That isn’t why I’m  going through all of this, though.    STEPHANIE  (Firmly.) 

Why are you doing this, Leon?    LEON  (After a significant beat.)  Because... Because I want to be understood.    (BLACKOUT)    (END OF SCENE)      Scene 2    SETTING: The set remains the same: LEON’s  study. The room is empty, and the  air feels heavy. It is the next  day. After his conversation with  STEPHANIE, LEON never truly left  his study. His spirit remained,  bouncing from wall to wall,  frantically trying to understand  its place. A cup of coffee and a  box of chocolates sit in the  middle of the desk. A note is  attached to the top of the  chocolate box. It is the  afternoon, around 3 o’clock. The  sun shines harshly through the  window.    AT RISE: LEON walks through the door with a  laptop bag over his shoulder and a  cup of coffee in hand. He looks  stressed and tired, but still  someone calm. He has yet to reach  a state of hysteria as he may  soon. He wears a long, olive green  coat over his bookstore uniform,  which is just a button up shirt 

and khaki pants. As he sets down  his coffee and bag and pulls out  his chair, he pauses and notices  the box and coffee on his desk. He  takes the note from the box and  reads it aloud.    LEON  “I bought you these chocolates on my break so you could  come home to a happy surprise. It is possibly the most  cliché gift ever, but I thought it was melodramatic enough  for you, Mr. Artist.”   (LEON looks visibly offended.)  Now that’s just rude.   (He continues reading.)  “I also got you a cup of coffee because I figured I should  get you something practical as well. I hope you didn’t  already buy yourself a cup. If you did, I hope you enjoy  both. You’re a great writer, I believe in you, all that  jazz. Love, Steph.”  (He looks at the cup of coffee  he brought in, then down at the  cup already sitting on his desk.  He shrugs and opens the box to  pop a chocolate in his mouth. He  closes his eyes, smiles, and  breathes deeply, then looks once  more at STEPHANIE’s note. He  sits down to enjoy the chocolate  and read the note again.  STEPHANIE enters shortly after,  her hair in a ponytail. She  wears a blue t-shirt and jeans.)    STEPHANIE  Hey, you’re home! I see you got my message.     LEON 

It was quite sweet of you, I must say. It’s only just now  occurred to me that you had to stop at two different shops  to get these things. You didn’t have to do that for me.     STEPHANIE  Are you going to get all sentimental on me so early in the  day? It’s a cheesy box of chocolates. It was supposed to be  funny, not for you to take so seriously.     LEON  Long day, I guess. I don’t have much capacity for humor  right now. That’s not to say your gifts aren’t appreciated.  Just the opposite; it was a wonder to come home to.     STEPHANIE  You’re still doing it.   (STEPHANIE leans over LEON to  grab a chocolate from the box.  She notices the two cups of  coffee.)  Oh damn, you did already get coffee. Well, more caffeine  means more productivity, doesn’t it?     LEON  If that were true, with as much coffee as I drink, I’d be  as prolific as Picasso. I actually can’t take it, though. I  need to begin my trip to a potential buyer of my last short  story shortly. You’re welcome to have it.     STEPHANIE  Oh, but you just got home. Do you at least have time to sit  down and watch the new episode of ​The Serious Network? ​ I  have the rest of the day off, and I thought you could use  some time to destress.    LEON  (Pauses significantly. His face  looks slightly pained, as if 

trying to make a difficult  decision.)  I... That’s not worth my time.   (LEON does not look at STEPHANIE  as he grabs his bag and cup of  coffee before standing up to  exit.)    STEPHANIE  That’s fine. Go do what you need to do.   (STEPHANIE does not want to  accept what LEON has just said,  but does not want to create  conflict. She is visibly  irritated by his tone.)  Good luck.     LEON  (Pauses before exiting through  the open door.)  Thanks.     STEPHANIE  (Waits for LEON to leave.)  Oh, I wanna hit him. I really do. No... No. He’s just  trying to do the right thing.   (STEPHANIE sits down in LEON’s  chair and sighs. She looks at  the typewriter on the desk for a  moment, then over to the  wastebasket next to the desk.  She notices that LEON’s  rejections are still in it. She  stands, moves over to them, and  grabs a paper out of the bin.  She moves to the front of the  desk and leans against it,  reciting the page aloud.) 

“Armen pumped his arms furiously as his legs carried him  briskly through the halls of the high school at which he  taught. Although it was a Saturday, a teacher’s job is  never relaxing. At this particular moment in time, it was  quite the opposite. Armen had never dealt with a student  with such emotional baggage, and frankly, he was hoping he  would never have to. Jake wasn’t like other students. The  determination with which Jake failed his classes baffled  all educators who he had encountered.     Halfway down the current hallway, Josephine stepped into  the classroom from her classroom door.     ‘Hi Armen,’ she stated calmly. ‘You seem to be in quite a  hurry.’    Armen did not want to, but he stopped purely to be polite.  ‘It’s Jake. I have business to attend to. I’m sure you  understand.’    Josephine casually scoffed. She appeared to roll her eyes a  bit, but Armen couldn’t be sure. Her verbal and physical  rhetoric always masked some level of conspiracy.     ‘I am certain that whatever he’s done now is no worse than  what he’s done in the past,’ she assured. ‘You are simply  wasting your time. That’s all you ever do. You want to  protect the unprotected, reach the unreachable. You aren’t  so powerful, Armen. When will you accept that you just  can’t’”-  (STEPHANIE stops reading. The  page stops there.)  Oh, Leon. You write yourself into characters in the least  subtle of ways. You were on such a great track, but you got  far too grand. It’s not all about saving the world. Just  Jake is enough.     (BLACKOUT)   

SETTING:

  AT RISE:

(END OF SCENE)      Scene 3    42 minutes have passed since LEON  left his study. STEPHANIE has  remained in the room, reading  LEON’s discarded papers. The cup  of coffee still sits on the desk,  and the box of chocolates has been  pushed aside.   STEPHANIE sits at LEON’s chair,  reading a piece of paper. She has  removed the papers from the  wastebasket and formed a stack on  the desk. Her eyes are fixated on  the words, and her expression  looks both intrigued and  incredibly concerned. After a few  moments, LEON walks through the  door. STEPHANIE is shocked that he  is home so early. LEON is  surprised to see STEPHANIE sitting  in his study. At first, neither  says anything. Both are still  rattled from LEON’s passive  aggressive outburst.  

  LEON  You’re reading my discards.     STEPHANIE  Sorry about that. I wanted to know what you found so wrong  with them. I didn’t think you would mind too much if I took  a look.     LEON 

I don’t mind.     STEPHANIE  Something’s definitely up, though. You weren’t gone for  very long. What happened?    LEON  To summarize, they didn’t buy. I wonder why they even took  the time to call me in for an appointment. They clearly had  little to no interest in anything I had written. It was  humiliating.  STEPHANIE  That’s too bad. You’ll have more opportunities though. This  isn’t the end of the world.     LEON  Right... You’re reading my discards?    STEPHANIE  Again, yes. I didn’t think you’d have such a problem with  it.     LEON  That’s not it. I am just curious as to why you willingly  spend your time reading them.     STEPHANIE  Maybe it’s to get an idea of what’s gotten into you. Your  behavior has gone beyond a point of dramatic and into the  realm of self-destructive. You’re catastrophizing every  small problem, ignoring things that will help you, and  frankly, you’re being an asshole. And that’s the part  that’s really taking my frustration from caring about you  to wanting to punch you in the face.     LEON  I understand why you may be frustrated, but there is no  ignoring the fact that I have priorities. There are goals  and actions that I must focus on if I am to succeed in any 

future endeavors. I’m sorry, but if I don’t have time for  something, I simply don’t have time.     STEPHANIE  Above all else, your health should be a priority. What’s  the use in having wealth and fame and success if you’ve  gone mad and aren’t able to enjoy it?     LEON  I’m not going mad.     STEPHANIE  Then listen to me. You need to come down from wherever  you’ve been for the past few days, or hell, even weeks or  months. Say what you want about these drafts you threw out,  but I’ve learned something from reading them. I know  exactly why you’ve been having trouble with this novel.    LEON  How can you know something so complex phrased so simply?  After only reading a few rejects, what end could you have  possibly come to?     STEPHANIE  I can see exactly where you break, Leon. These are the  flaws, all bundled up conveniently in one place. After  reading only a few rejects, it’s obvious they all have one  thing in common: where they end. Each one trails off in  this overwhelming, existentialist ramble that gets too big  for its own shorts. You need to calm down and level your  ideas. You’re making writing impossible for yourself.    LEON  It is easy enough to attribute all of my failure to one  sole behavior. Writing has more facets than to allow for  such explicit solutions, though. On top of that, I cannot  turn my style of writing on a dime and magically become  better.  

Sure, it’s easy to say that I can just change that and all  be better, but it’s more complicated than that. I can’t  just change how I write.     STEPHANIE  (Cutting LEON off slightly.)  Will you just shut up and accept that you have a problem so  that you can fix it?    LEON  I know I have a problem!     STEPHANIE  Well I’m telling you what it is so you can sit down and do  something about it!    LEON  Then what exactly is the problem? What action do you  suggest I take in order to reestablish my capabilities as a  writer?    STEPHANIE  (STEPHANIE takes a deep breath  before continuing. Her  frustration has been building  through the conversation, but  she knows that this situation  must be handled with care.)  You need to realize you aren’t going to change the world  with your writing. Even if you do, that’s not what you  should aim for. I know motivational speakers will tell you  to shoot for the stars, but sometimes the stars aren’t  where you’re needed. We need you down here, I need you.  Your novel only needs to change one person’s life. It’s OK  if that one person is you.    LEON  (This comment truly hits LEON.  It hits him hard. At first he is 

unable to say anything, and he  realizes arguing will get him no  further. He must accept  STEPHANIE’s statements.)  Then what do I do?    STEPHANIE  Be Armen. You’ve been Jake for too long, you need to be  Armen. I am certain he has the dedication to make a  difference, and I am certain Jake knows deep down that he  can change.     LEON  (LEON stares down at his feet for  some time, looking deep in  thought about something.)  Do you think I was really being Jake? He’s kind of a dick.     STEPHANIE  (STEPHANIE laughs boisterously.)  The emphasis was on his stubbornness to change, but I guess  you share some more traits.    LEON  Words can hurt, you know. I can tell you, I’m a writer.   (LEON hesitates a moment.)  If your offer still stands, I’d love to join you in  watching ​The Serious Network. ​     (BLACKOUT)    (END OF ACT)