Wendy Wasserstein has enjoyed great critical and commercial success for her many plays, including “Uncommon Women” and “The Sisters Rosensweig.” She won a Pulitzer Prize for “The Heidi Chronicles” in 1989. Those fans who missed seeing her most recent play, “An American Daughter,” can now read it (Harcourt Brace, $20). Wasserstein was in Chicago recently and spoke with Tribune literary editor Elizabeth Taylor.
Q. As a playwright, do you imagine people reading, as well as seeing, your plays?
A. I am delighted that the play is published. I think that’s just great. And that it’s published in a hardback–it is amazing.
Q. Because there wouldn’t seem to be an apparent market for it?
A. When you go in an airport (store) you don’t see a whole lot of plays. And I actually love reading plays. I’ve always loved reading plays. First of all, they are easy to read. And they are relatively short, and they are so well written actually. Because there’s no time for not writing them well. And you get the voice of the author right away. I think that’s interesting.
Q. Are you ever aware of the life of your plays, that they are reinterpreted over the years?
A. You know, what’s interesting about plays is they are written to be performed. So what you have with a play, let’s say as opposed to a television script or even a film script, is, chances are once the movie’s made it’s not going to be made again. When you write a play, the life of that play is when it will be done–30 years from now in Evanston High School or in the New Trier production of “The Heidi Chronicles.” That’s the life of the play, which is an interesting thing. It’s an odd hybrid because it’s both a piece of literature and . . . it’s a blueprint for a production. So that play better read pretty well, whether it’s the National Theater or, truly, the high school production.
Q. You’re a funny writer; do you worry people won’t look at your work seriously enough?
A. A little bit. I am a comic writer. I write with a sense of comedy. But “An American Daughter” is a serious play. In fact, it’s a hybrid of a play, which is why I am so glad it has been published. Maybe I’ll read it a few times and figure it out.
Q. Do your plays have a special resonance with women?
A. In some ways. Sometimes I think that plays are so hard to write that you really don’t think, “I know–I’m going to market it to this audience.” But I do think, “Yes, these are people whose stories haven’t been told; they really haven’t been told.” And it’s very interesting (that those) whose stories are not told are, in some cases, powerful women or professional women. Precisely the people who buy tickets to the theater. What’s interesting to me always, even now, is it is like Hollywood is saying, “Isn’t it fascinating, girls go to the movies?” I want to say, “Hello!”
Q. And women are the ones who buy books.
A. Women are the ones who buy books, women are the ones who buy tickets, so why wouldn’t they want to see themselves?
Q. How do you write your plays? Do you write every day?
A. I’m not disciplined enough. I’m really not. I wish I was. I don’t know why I’m not, but I’m not. I get discipline once I am in the middle of something. Once I decide I am going to do this thing, I can pretty much focus and do it. It’s just getting around to that point. I have to take myself somewhere to write. I can’t write at home.
I begin things by writing longhand, and then I start typing them, and then they are finally put on a computer. Though I find computers much more helpful for screenplays (because you have to shift them around so much), I have written all my plays on a typewriter, so I still write them on a typewriter.
Q. In an interview with the Tribune recently, Maya Angelou said that when she is working on something she rents a hotel room near her home.
A. I begin things by taking myself away. I’ve stayed (in Chicago) at the Four Seasons and written. I did that this January actually. I’ve stayed at the Hanover Inn (in New Hampshire). I don’t know a soul there, in Hanover. It’s a wonderful place to work, and it’s like being covered with a big, warm blanket. I love those times. You feel a seriousness of purpose, everything seems very clear. I like that. All those things that distract you in life–memories, relationships, anything–is out of the room. And I really like that. I like that clarity.
Q. How did winning the Pulitzer Prize for “The Heidi Chronicles” affect you? Did it liberate you in any way?
A. It was almost as if someone told me, “You are a serious writer.” And that, for me, was a wonderful thing–like a gift. It was very liberating. It was like: “You are a serious person. What you do is serious. We say this.” I was very grateful. And I liked that play a lot. So that’s nice.
Q. I’ve read that you are dyslexic.
A. Yes, I am slightly dyslexic. Which is one of the reasons why I write plays; because (1) plays were easier to read because the print is bigger, and (2) what I am good at, how I learned a lot, was from listening. I have a very good memory. And I have a good ear. And I think it’s partially because of that. Because reading didn’t come easily to me. I think that the creativity in all of that has to do with that.
Q. Listening to people?
A. Yeah, and listening to people saying things in a slightly different way. And a little bit of being unpretentious because of that. Because I just love reading and I love learning. It’s just that for me, even in college, art history, theater were easier.
Q. Your plays are often regarded as being about women and relationships, but aren’t they more about women and work?
A. I think you’re right. My cousin Rita, who is a lawyer, said:
“I don’t think things in some ways have gotten better for professional women. I think the world is still sexist. And I think that `An American Daughter’ was about that. And people don’t want to hear it.”
That’s really interesting. She knows you are not supposed to say that.
Q. Is there a difference between a job and work?
A. When I write a play, it’s not just a job, that’s work. That’s the thing I am proud of; that’s what I do. I don’t know what will happen to it, and that’s the thing that can also break my heart. Then there are jobs that I do as a professional that you do and you do to the best of your ability. But those are jobs, even in writing. They are not the things that will define you, but they are the things, certainly, that keep you alive. And you are deeply grateful for them–like a writing assignment.
Q. You started out in the theater as a messenger?
A. I started out doing delivery work. I’ve always loved those jobs, actually. I was the gofer for the Eugene O’Neill Theater Center and I used to deliver scripts to the various readers. I was a Gal Friday. I took steno and delivered scripts. I always liked those jobs because it’s almost like being an observer. It’s like you have an eye on the play and you are not in the politics of the play, you are watching it.
Q. Would you ever set a play in Chicago?
A. You know, Heidi’s from Chicago. And there’s a scene in front of the Art Institute. And then she comes back to go to college. I have always had this real fondness for Chicago.
