Author Archives: Bryonna

Can crossing an ocean hundreds of miles up in the sky, and living through multiple time zones affect your perception of a memory? My memory of Ireland has become dream-like: the moss, the true green hills stack on one another … Continue reading →

A short list of things that made The John Hewitt Summer School awesome. Poetry Workshops: I expressed my enthusiasm about the workshop in an earlier post about my first day at the festival, but I think it deserves another shout … Continue reading →

The second day of the John Hewitt Summer School was our final performance of our showcase, and it went over splendidly. The transitions were smooth, lines were delivered fantastically (considering that we are not actors), and the support from the … Continue reading →

“We’re all exactly the same when are in front of a blank page.” – Siobhan Campbell It’s time for the John Hewitt Festival!!! The moment we have been all waiting for, the opportunity to meet groovy deep thinkers, politicians, and … Continue reading →

My earlier post about my first impressions of Ireland was about the thin line of darkness and lightness, sadness and happiness that happens simultaneously through the exchanges I had with a few people I had met and my relationship with … Continue reading →

The rehearsal process has been a healthy experience for me as the writer. Being able to hear the words said aloud with inflections and voices different from my own, allows me to gain a more objective perspective, other than when … Continue reading →

As a playwright, it is important to think about the audience role in my work because there are techniques that break the fourth wall, or that requires orchestrated audience participation. But I find that when a playwright is not utilizing … Continue reading →

I picked up a June 2015 issue of the Belfast Telegraph from the reception desk of the hostel and was surprised to read the article, “Abortion law is inhumane, court told”. Abortion is illegal in Northern Ireland regardless of the … Continue reading →

I caught a taxi late in the night to take me back to the hostel in Belfast. My driver was a husky man, his head shaved bald. His sleeves were rolled a quarter of a way up to revealed another … Continue reading →

The internal conflict of a first and second wife in the crucial moments between life and murder in a world where #magic, and the power of #jealousy take a hold.