Letters from the professor
A word from the playwright of “the Last Grain of Rice”
I’ve never believed in prefacing my work, as I believe it speaks for itself, so I’ll keep this brief.
The thing about life, is one simply must live it. One must also reflect; in these times, on what about life it means to live. This play came to me in a dream, a reckoning perhaps of some life experiences of my own — and others not — good and bad, welcome and unwelcome, also as well as medium. Anyways, as I explored the milieu of Bill’s Rice, I delved deep into what it means to be a small business owner in the American northeast — a place I have never been and an occupation I have never held. But I knew in my gut that I was the only one who could tell this story.
When I was a boy, playing in the creek, my father would recite the greats as he untied his boots: Descarte, Chekhov, Beckett, and always Marlowe over Shakespeare.
The research I did was extensive (much more than you would have done), viewing The Godfather trilogy and Some Like it Hot. I read over 400 plays in just two months; then threw everything out the window and wrote something from the depths of my soul, completely separate from anything anyone has done or thought to do before. As well, I think, untethered by genre.
Ultimately, I think the play speaks for itself. It speaks gently. About family. About capitalism. It highlights nuance. The nuance speaks loudly as well. I was uninfluenced by other works. It is a standalone, pure, unique piece of theatre. When you watch the play, you will see it speaks for itself.
This new entry into the international theatrical cannon — which will surely be an enduring classic — was originally commissioned to be part of the CW’s reboot of the Gossip Girl reboot, in the background of a scene where a bisexual teacher is receiving a sexual favor in the American Airlines Theatre. But once that went defunct, my American representatives took on the task of finding a home for my genius to be seen. And they did. Here at The Tank. And they will go on to be the showrunners for season 6 of Emily in Paris, which will be carousel themed in as many ways as something can be.
To the New Generation: Put down that smartphone. If you want to be a great theatrical mind like such as myself, you must dedicate yourself to writing every day — be it a single letter or 75 pages of letters mushed together to form thousands of words, beautiful words. At times, I wrote this epic family drama on the back of a receipt. Actually, it was the whole thing. Writing can happen anywhere.
A student once asked me how many “re-writes” I had done on my 43rd play. I slapped her right across the face — metaphorically speaking — as I don’t know what that means! Once your words have eked onto the page, there they are and there they will be. What would I edit? What’s on the page is genius. What is all this talk of “multiple drafts” I have heard so much about? Phooey.
Please enjoy my love letter to my wife. Ultimately, this play is a love letter to her, as well as to our daughter — neither of whom I have seen in nearly 20 years, as they live on the coast and I in the woods. Earnestine, if you are reading this, please, I want to talk again. I think of nights with you by the fireplace often.
Anyways, I hope you’re able to walk away from this play with deep reflections on mortality and please, always be on time.
You’re welcome,
Professor Hott Lettis