You may be wondering whatever happened with this project. I just found this draft post that I never published. It was written in February, 2014, and titled, "A Dramatic Ending." Well here's the answer!
___________________________
I have some bad news: Michael and I have had a parting of the ways.
This may not be so surprising. After all, we've had many partings of the ways, often just when it seems like we're "almost there." Our musical has been "forthcoming" since 2002.
In all our ups and downs, I thought there were more ups than downs, but sadly it seems the downs won out in the end. During the writing flurry last May, Michael and I inspired ourselves to do a lecture together about the rewards and challenges of creative collaboration. Or maybe write a book entitled Waltzing in a Mine Field...
But since then it's been all about waiting. Michael had some wonderful success. And then, all of a sudden, we couldn't seem to communicate anymore.
After a few weeks of tempestuous and troubling emails, and just over two years from the date we last patched up our collaborelationship, I got this kind but firm letter:
Hi Kristen,
Today is the day when we officially creatively part; it's time for both of us to move on.
Please keep any of my residuals from the SOULS ebook to further your show(s).
Please use any of the music I wrote to further the show as you see fit.
Thanks for all you taught me.
I wish you success and the best in all your creativity.
And keep writing; never never never never NEVER give up. It will all fall into place when the time is write.
See you at the Tonys.
•m•
Michael O'DellI am deeply saddened, that our dramatic ending was not a dramatic finish. Still missing my dog, too, some days I feel like letting this dream fade away. But I will, as my father-in-law would say, endeavor to persevere.
I wanted to let those of you who supported us in our fundraising campaign last spring know about what's been happening. There is still a little money in the bank, and with it I hope to find a way to patchwork the wonderful music Michael has so generously produced into a working score this spring.
Wish me luck.
___________________________
Nine years have passed, and Michael and I haven't spoken since. I've taken classes in collaboration since then [SF Conservator] and learned about the boundaries collaborators have to respect. I think my error was trying to shape his music so much—he felt controlled. His error? He rewrote lyrics without consulting me.
It's kind of a funny story, the reason things exploded. thought we'd been getting along great! In our 3-week compose-a-thon, he completed all but the finale. Then Michael went back to polish, determined to finish this huge project, starting with the "Can't-Go-To-Prom Blues" that throaty Julianna Marx had originated in New York. We'd developed it into a soaring first act climax called, "A Girl Like Me"— and a song in this position in a show requires belting. Michael recorded it in with a top-notch belter, Satya, and it sounded super Disney-esque. But my heart sunk when she sung the line, "these feet, size nine, but in style." He'd rewritten a number of lines, and for some reason changed the size of Ashley's feet!
"I love it but...it ruins the story," I said. "Everything revolves around Ashley having to wear shoes in a large man's size. Nine is just a little bit average. If you only have room for one syllable, can you just record her saying "twelve," instead?" Over the next few weeks and months, the more I tried to sort things through, the more unkind his responses became as he focused all his energy into solo projects and put this project behind him. He was vicious after seeing me improv Ashley's character at the Clown reading. Months later, he told me he'd been in a bad space and was doing better now. He called me his creative hero, and I didn't know how to respond. Because he never actually apologized. He never asked if I was okay. And I really wasn't. There was sadly no healing or recovery, just scabbing over and moving on. I never posted on this blog again because I didn't want to call him out. And I didn't want to air what I felt was a tremendous personal failure, after we'd overcome so many obstacles together.
Sometimes life just goes a bit haywire. I know.
Over the next few years I tried working with different composers to complete things, but could never find the same meeting of minds and playful spirits. I ended up pouring my love for this story into a novel, did a ton of awesome readings, and got through the first draft of the sequel. I started a fun Facebook group for shoe stories and continued relationships with many artists I'd met along the way. Then I had to get back to work on tbe psychology and assertiveness books that inspire so much of my storytelling—and life whisked me away into new adventures!
I never spent the money we raised during our compose-a-thon. Michael fell off the map again, blocked me from Twitter, quit Facebook to regroup. I Google him every so often. Several years after we'd exchanged our last words, I saw he was raising funds for a new studio, and made a generous donation. Then there was Covid and we cringed through the Trump years and fluffy fun projects like this kind of seemed less important. I'm happy to see Michael continues to develop and express his impressive talent, now writing his own works. I'm grateful for the work we did together. I brought the lessons I learned to my next dramatic & musical works: Invocation, Be Mused and The Dirndl Diaspora.
If the changes of technology still allow you to get this, I thank the readers of this blog for your incredible enthusiasm, support, and encouragement back when! I'm proud of what we accomplished; the fun is evident when you scroll through the old posts. And I really would like to believe what Michael said: "It will all fall into place when the time is 'write.'"
Meanwhile, there's much more in store for the princesses. Please keep up with me on www.kristencaven.com!
—Kristen
