Nothing Went According to Plan… And I Wouldn’t Change a Thing

Last week, I had plans.

I was going to write. I was going to edit. I was going to keep up with everything I needed to do for my books, my website, and all the other things that seem to find their way onto my never-ending to-do list.

So, how much writing did I get done?

Absolutely none.

Editing?

Not a single word. 😂

But you know what I DID do?

I survived tech week. I survived four performances in three days, a donor night, a parent night, and all the chaos that comes with putting on a children’s theater production.

And somehow, despite being completely exhausted, I wouldn’t change a thing.

There’s Nothing Quite Like Show Week

If you’ve never been involved in theater, especially children’s theater, I’m not sure I can adequately explain the combination of chaos, exhaustion, excitement, and pure magic that comes with show week.

There are a million little things happening behind the scenes that the audience never sees. Costumes need adjusting. Props need to be in the right places. Someone needs help with something. Something inevitably doesn’t go quite the way it did during rehearsal, and everyone has to figure out how to make it work.

And then the lights go down, the music starts, and suddenly all those weeks of rehearsals and preparation become something incredible.

This past weekend, we brought The Little Mermaid Jr. to life.

For three days, our kids transported audiences under the sea, and I got to watch something that never gets old, no matter how many productions I’m involved in.

I got to watch them grow.

Watching Them Grow Up on Stage

One of my favorite things about being involved in children’s theater is getting to work with kids year after year.

Some of these kids I’ve known for years. I’ve watched them walk into auditions nervous and unsure of themselves. I’ve seen them take on small roles, learn how to project their voices, figure out choreography, make friends, and slowly discover just how much they’re capable of.

And then one day, you look up at the stage and realize how far they’ve come.

The shy kid who once struggled to speak loudly enough for anyone to hear is suddenly commanding the stage. The child who used to follow everyone else’s lead is now helping younger cast members find their confidence. Kids who once seemed so little are growing into talented, confident performers right before your eyes.

And sometimes it happens so gradually that you don’t even realize it until you’re sitting there watching a performance and thinking, When did they get so good? When did they grow up?

There were moments during The Little Mermaid Jr. when I found myself thinking about the kids these performers used to be and comparing them to the young people standing on that stage now.

And I was so incredibly proud of them.

Not just because of how well they performed, but because of everything it took to get there. The hard work, the courage, the friendships, the willingness to try something difficult, and the confidence they’ve gained along the way.

That’s the part of children’s theater that means the most to me.

Yes, we’re putting on a show. But we’re also giving kids a place to belong, to express themselves, to discover their strengths, and to become more comfortable with who they are.

And getting to witness that year after year is something pretty special.

And Then, Just Like That, It Was Gone

Sunday was our final performance.

One last trip under the sea. One last opportunity for the cast to step into their characters and share everything they’d worked so hard to create.

And then came strike.

For anyone unfamiliar with theater terminology, strike is when we take everything apart after the production closes. Sets are dismantled, props are packed away, costumes are collected, and the stage is returned to the way it was before we started.

It’s a strange feeling.

You spend weeks, sometimes months, creating this entire world. Every set piece, every costume, every little detail is part of bringing that story to life. You put so much time and energy into making something magical.

And then, in a matter of hours, you take it all apart.

Our beautiful underwater world disappeared piece by piece.

The stage that had been filled with colorful sea creatures, music, laughter, and all the magic of The Little Mermaid Jr. was suddenly just a stage again.

No ocean. No underwater kingdom. No trace of the world we’d spent so much time creating.

If you walked into that space afterward, you’d never know what had happened there over the weekend.

And there’s something both beautiful and heartbreaking about that.

Because that’s theater.

It’s temporary. You build something incredible, share it with an audience for a handful of performances, and then it’s gone.

But the experience doesn’t disappear just because the set comes down.

The kids still have the friendships they made, the things they learned, and the confidence they gained. The audiences have their memories. And those of us who worked behind the scenes have all the moments that made the exhaustion worth it.

The stage might be empty, but what happened on it still matters.

So, About Those Writing Plans…

Am I behind on some things?

Absolutely.

Did I accomplish everything I wanted to last week?

Not even close.

And yes, I have a lot of catching up to do. Especially with everything happening right now for The Forgotten Bloodline and the rest of my books.

But I also know that if I’d spent the entire week worrying about how much writing I wasn’t getting done, I would have missed some pretty incredible moments happening right in front of me.

Writing is important to me. My books are important to me. And I have some really exciting things happening with my author career right now.

But theater is important to me, too.

Those kids are important to me.

And sometimes life doesn’t follow the schedule you’ve carefully planned out. Sometimes the things that matter most aren’t the things you get to cross off your to-do list.

Last week, I didn’t write a single word of my novels. I didn’t edit a single chapter.

Instead, I watched kids I’ve known for years grow before my eyes. I watched weeks of hard work turn into four incredible performances. I watched an entire underwater world come to life, and then I helped take it apart until there was no trace left behind.

I was exhausted. I still am, honestly. 😂

But I wouldn’t trade those moments for a few extra chapters.

The writing will still be there when I get back to it.

And now that show week is officially behind us, maybe I’ll actually manage to get some of it done.

No promises, though. I’ve learned not to trust my plans too much. 😂

Until next time,

Morgan Rylie 🖤

#YouAreNotAlone