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The Intimacy of Playwrighting

I pace around the community theater, chatting with friends supporting my one-act play in a local festival. Anxiety is stifled with a tight smile and lame humor. Absentmindedly, I rub my hands together, one looping over the other, each squeeze reinforcing my desire to keep my cool and stay calm. A friend reaches out with one gentle hand and stills mine without saying a word. I freeze momentarily. What am I doing? Why the hand-wringing? What is it