Tuesday, July 28, 2009


MONOLODGE, created by the Unicycle Collective (Seattle’s
first and only theater company dedicated to solo performance),
is a live anthology, the theatrical equivalent of a short-story
collection: Brief but chewy theatrical concepts stripped to the
bare essentials of a performer and an audience. Previous
incarnations of MonoLodge have been seen at Theatre Off Jackson
and as part of the Solo Performance Festival.

MonoLodge 6 will feature 9 brand new works, each inspired by
Annex’s prime time production ‘LOVE’S TANGLED
WEB’. Though linked by a common theme, each piece is
guaranteed to be as unique as the performers themselves.

MonoLodge 6 features:

* CHRISTA BELL (April 24-25 & May 2 only)
* MARK SIANO performing THE COUNT (May 3 & May 8-9 only)

DATES: April 24, 25, May 2, 8, and 9 at 11pm. May 3 at 8pm

WHERE: Annex Theatre–1100 E. Pike St (which is actually on 11th
at the corner of 11th & E. Pike)

HOW MUCH: $9 general, $5 students/seniors/military/TPS

FOR MORE INFORMATION: Call 728-0933 or visit

Spin The Bottle

My short play Happy Straws is going to be part of June’s Spin the Bottle at Annex Theater. Spin the Bottle is their late night, monthly, cabaret show featuring all kinds of awesomeness. Come see it Friday June 6th 11pm at 1100 East Pike.

Creepy Puppets

Everyone loves terrifying puppets with yarn hair. And I got to write a little play for them. Alice Nelson produced A Night at the Grand Guignol in Calgary in Februrary and my play “A Matching Pair” was smack at the top. Grand Guignol means Big puppet and at the Theatre du Grand Guignol in Paris ( 1897-1962) it was known as the “Theater of Laughter and Terror”. Apparently, it all went really well. Because, people like awful, fuzzy puppets, plus blood.

14/48 The World’s Quickest Theater Festival

In January I was allowed to be part of pretty much the most scary, most fun, best creative kick in the ass- 14/48

What is it?

14 plays conceived, written, rehearsed, scored, directed and performed in 48 hours.

The result? An awesome experience that featured a lot of late night hyperventilation and then happiness and also talented people-and two new plays that I wrote- Crocodiles and Deep and True. Check out the photos taken by David Baum.

And read more about 14/48 on their blog


Press For Small Town

Theater Review
Putting the “fun” in “dysfunctional family”
By Richard Wallace
Special to The Seattle Times

Playwright Kelleen Conway Blanchard is a lot like you and me. She gets up in the morning, finds some beverage to wake up her brain cells and starts her day in front of her computer.

Here is where our similarity probably ends. Because when you dive into your e-mail, Blanchard dives into her subconscious, and what she brings back are images of twisted Americana that would make David Lynch smile.

Small wonder then that Annex Theatre, now celebrating its 20th anniversary, has chosen to produce a world premiere of her play “Small Town” as part of its “Oyster Series.”

Directed with fiendish charm by Bret Fetzer, Blanchard’s domestic comedy is a country-fried horror show.

Think of a worst-case scenario for a family unit. It’s got to be the Ledbetters.

Blanchard starts with clichés that she turns into cartoons.
Then she gives her cartoon characters enough interesting quirks to turn them into real people. It’s the “Simpsons” technique, and it works really well with the biggest cliché of them all: serial killer.

Ruby (Teri Lazzara) is the mom. Ruby wears a beehive hairdo the height of a parking garage. She smokes through a hole in her throat and rarely gets out of her bathrobe.

Her one-eyed daughter Lucinda (Betsy Morris) hangs out perpetually on the couch, half the time dreaming of her former glory as a two-county “pork queen,” the other half wondering if her faithless, loser boyfriend Bud (Daniel Christensen) is worth the trouble.

Ruby’s son, Stu Lionel (Aaron LaPlante), rounds out the family trio. Stu Lionel, a giant boy who aged into a man, spends all of his time in the family basement doing — well — we’re not sure.

With the arrival of Sheriff Dwayne (Chris Dietz), Stu Lionel’s underground activities take on sinister implications. Dwayne tells the Ledbetters that a number of mailmen are missing — 17 so far — a fact that doesn’t seem to surprise Stu Lionel one bit.

The ensemble enjoys every gruesome minute.

Every actor gets funny, outrageous stuff to say and do. Several even get to sing.

The pearl in this delirious swine of a show is Morris, who gives child-woman Lucinda a kind of big-hearted weirdness that is as winning as it is demented.

Finally, though it is early in the year, Bret Fetzer’s witty set design is a 2007 front-runner in the make-something-really-great-out-of-nothing category.

Copyright © The Seattle Times Company

Small Town Review

Now, don’t let the chicken- and cat-rape, possum-gutting, or deep-frying a sparrow put you off. (Or the hamster, which we don’t have time to get into.) There’s a lot of tenderness to playwright Kelleen Conway Blanchard’s depiction of small-town life. And if former Pork Queen Lucinda is one-eyed, the Sheriff’s plastic cranium doesn’t seal that well, bemulleted Bud has testicular size-and-quantity issues, and Lucinda’s brother Stu Lionel has a too-lively fascination with dead things (and how they get that way), that just says something vital about what it means to be human — any rich, vibrant tapestry has got to have a few loose ends.

It’s hard to imagine getting more snorted laughs and eyes-wide guffaws out of $10, and that’s a fact. Now, you may protest that the white trash thing has been done. You may say, “37 vivisected mailmen? Come on!” Hey, art is a mirror to life. You don’t even have to leave this site to find worse and even worser examples that all is not right on American continent.

What Small Town has got in spades is authenticity, and we’re not just referring to Bud’s ballsy a capella country version of the Scorps power ballad “No One Like You” (complete with porn ass-slapping for the “I imagine the thing’s we’ll do” line), or the ensemble’s bluegrassy take on Outkast’s “Hey Ya.” We’d never have guessed from seeing Kelleen in her daily Goth attire that she’s glimpsed the soul of the residents of American hamlets and hollers, and if the plot can make you feel like you’ve suffered some moonshine-induced blackouts, screw it, there’s a case to be made that this is all true to the messy, untied-up, one-damn-thing-after-another lives of small town folks. Last night the place was sold out, and the applause went on for a long time.

Lerner & Loewe, suck down an empty jelly jar of hooch and meet Blanchard & Fetzer. We’d like to thank director Bret Fetzer for the concern extended to every facet of these grubby little people, the John-Waters-like compassion and understanding. We’ve seen some Annex work over the years where the cast might have wanted anonymity — not here. We were in awe of Betsy Morris as Lucinda. Not everyone can pull off that drawled, trailing-off conversational add-on, developed after years of being unlistened to. And tomcatty Bud (Daniel Christensen), nice-boy Sheriff Dwayne (Chris Dietz), hairtriggered Ruby (Teri Lazzara), and “slow” Stu Lionel (Aaron LaPlante) each manage to truly inhabit a small-town life: the everybody-knows-each-other’s-business approach and deference due to unusual hobbies and life pursuits.

The tricky part is finding the actual theater. We thought it was downstairs at CHAC, and it sort of is, but you go through this door just to the left as you enter, and down a hallway, then take another left and climb some stairs, go through another door, and you’re in the Annex lobby.

Small Town
Annex Theatre @ CHAC
7:30pm, Tues. & Weds., through February 21
Tickets: $10/$7 students/seniors

Photo by Jennifer Cabarrus. Pictured, Daniel Christensen and Betsy Morris.

Small Town at Annex Theatre

Small Town
by Kelleen Conway Blanchard
- Opens Tuesday, January 23rd

America. Somewhere in the middle. The Ledbetters are a typical family – if “typical” includes a mother with a beehive hairdo taller than a grain silo, who chain-smokes through her tracheotomy-hole; a one-eyed sister, former “pork queen of two counties”, who wrestles alligators for fun: and a son who – well, let’s just say he’s super nice, if a bit slow. But, when 17 mailmen go missing, and the Sheriff comes a-courting, anything is bound to happen. Love can be kind of funny that way. “Small Town ” will be presented at the Gail Stellner Studio at the Capitol Hill Arts Center (1621 12th Ave, Capitol Hill, Seattle)

Self Obsession In Blue in D.C.

A super fantastic new theatre produced my play
Self Obsession in Blue this Summer for the Inaugural Capital Fringe Festival.
Check them out at management company.org

Cherub: Season T wo

Season Two of this super funny locally produced spoof on Angel is out and I wrote an episode. So there. I don’t think the second season is all on the site yet but the first season is.

This here is a photo from my episode. I like my actors all greased up. Yes I do.
So check it out.
Caution Zero

Open Box: Greatest Hits

Part of my play Small Town will be performed at this keen event. Plus many other super peices will be seen. Come!

Open Box: The Greatest Hits
Saturday, September 16th 7pm

Seattle Dramatists celebrates Open Box, the open mic for playwrights, with
an evening of six of the best pieces that have been read at Open Box over
the last year-and-a-half. The selections include scripts from Elizabeth
Heffron, Kelleen Conway Blanchard, Danny Walter, Toby Scales, and more!

Open Box: The Greatest Hits is one night only – Saturday, September 16th at
7pm in the same venue where we hold Open Box, the Jewel Box Theatre in
Belltown (2322 2nd Avenue) admission $10. (There is a discount if you
participated in Open Box as an actor or playwright between January 2005 and
May 2006.)

New Play Reading

The super folks at Seattle Dramatists are doing a reading of my play Small Town. So if ya wanna come and get a sneaky preview before it gets fully produced, it’s on August 21st 7pm- Doors open at 6:30pm- at Theater Schmeater 1500 Summit Avenue, Capitol Hill. $2


Edith's Head at The Crocodile. Iron Composers series.

I was born with an extra head…
That’s right suckahs! This is my one-woman show about Edith and her head. It was produced by Annex Theatre, and performed in part at The Crocodile, 12 Minutes Max and as part of Room for Cream.

Edith & Her Head

Edith backstage.

Such A Super Sweet Serial Killer

Yes. I have mostly finished my new play
Small Town

It’s a full length Romantic Comedy about killin’ 37 Mailmen. Give or take. Plus, Momma smokes Pall Malls through her neck.
Here’s a Lil’ Excerpt


Small Town
Kelleen Conway Blanchard

Lucinda- Young and fresh like creamy butter. She has an eye patch.

Ruby- Lucinda’s Mama. Ruby’s hair is in an enormous beehive. She smokes Pall Malls through her neck.

Stu Lionel- Lucinda’s little brother. Super sweet, serial killer. He always wears a tiny mailman shirt.

Sheriff ( Dwayne)- His Mother was attacked by wild boars during childbirth. So, he’s only got part of his head.

Bud- He’s got real good hair.

The setting
America. Somewhere in the middle of it.

I’m here about your Momma.

My Momma’s in the basement boiling down a squirrel.

That’s that dead body smell, I smell then.

No. We don’t know what that smell is. You want some Koolaid?

I come to ask you some questions on account of all the dead people showing up in town.

I heard they found a nose behind the Gas and Sip.

That’s official police business. I can’t comment on that. I’m here on account people are saying some things about your Momma.

You sure I can’t get you nothing Sheriff? I got Ho Hos.

People are saying she kills people. Feeds ‘em to her cats. Look at those cats. That’s what some people think. You can tell. Look at how glossy they are. From people fat. Makes ‘em shine. Lotta people gone missing lately. That’s all I’m saying. Lotta people your momma knows.

My Momma never killed nobody except her first two husbands. Everybody knows that.

Now Lucinda. No one’s saying those boys didn’t need killing. Killing her first husband was God’s will.

That gun went off in her hand.

That’s right. Like I said, God’s will. God don’t like men that are romantic with chickens.

Poor chicken fuckin’ Fred. You know he could crochet?


Yeah. He could crochet and he could eat a hundred hot-dogs in ten minutes.

Well people are a complicated business. Ain’t nobody all one thing.

Momma really loved that chicken fucker. Broke her heart. She only married her second husband Lyle for his discount working at wig world.

And nobody thinks less of your Momma taking the law into her own hands when her Lyle tried to leave her and steal those dancin’ rats she breeds.

Momma loves those animals.

I’m just telling you she’s a suspect .

Damn it Dwayne. You known my momma your whole damn life. She’s not the kind of person to kill people and try to hide it all up. She’s got actual notches in her belts from killing those husbands. I can tell you right now there’s no new notches. If she was gonna kill anybody she’d kill my pussy chasin’ Daddy.

She’s shot him 47 times. And took off his leg with a chain saw.

Daddy only needs the one leg anyhow.

Come on Lucinda, I’m the Sheriff here and we gotta be through. Some big FBI kind of investigator might be coming to town and seven dead men ain’t no joke.

They’re saying they were suffocated

I can’t disclose nothing.

They’re saying they were suffocated in somebody’s tits. They’re calling ‘em the titty murders around town.

There are a number of theories.

Well. Dwayne, if I were you I’d just take a look around town see who’s got a big rack.

Jesus, there’s cat hair everywhere.

Oh, put that in that basket. We save that. Momma makes sweaters out that. She knits baby blankets out of the dog hair.

Okay. uh look. I’m sorry about all this.

I guess you got a job to do.

I do Lucinda. Plus, I gotta tell you, I been down at the bar with your Daddy and he lost his peg leg again in a bet. So, if you wanna borrow my car and take him home ‘cause he’s pretty much just been leaning against the bar for four hours and I would’ve driven him home but, he won’t leave with me. Says he wants his baby daughter the one he taught to spit to come get him. He’s crying.

Well shit.

Can you spit 500 yards like he said?

I can do a lot things, I can wrestle a gater one handed, pluck a turkey with my eye teeth, skin a possum, plus I’m a dead shot. Daddy made sure I knew stuff before he up and left Momma for some whore.

You’re a lot of woman.


Bud should treat you like somebody. He don’t know what he’s got.

Well love is like that ain’t it? I been crying so much I collapsed a lung.

He’s a turd.

Don’t matter I’m saving up for some fake titties. Then, I might leave this town, make dirty movies. A lot of people say I’m pretty good at doin’ it. I’m a hard worker you know.

Yeah, that’s what I hear. From people. Listen Lucinda, I know I’m not nobody and people say I can’t never amount to nothing on account of me being born with part of my head eaten off.

Wasn’t your fault your Mama got attacked by those wild pigs while you were being born.

I have a fake scalp now. Listen, it’s plastic.

Can I try? Can you take it off?

No it’s screwed in otherwise stuff would fall into my brain.

Dwayne, you’re no dumber than anybody else I know. You’re Sheriff.

Well, I can do most things but bacon makes me real nervous.

I bet.

I have a lot of feelings about pork.

It’s cold out there. Take this scarf. it’s golden retriever. Real warm.

Anyway, what I meant to say is, even though I aint nobody and I aint got nothing, I wouldn’t be like Bud. I would be real good. Treat you good.

I know you would. But I can’t never love nobody again. I got no heart now. It don’t work no more for loving.

Okay. Well, if you change your mind, if you know your heart comes back…

It won’t.

Well I can wait.

It aint coming back Dwayne. It’s all dead tissue. Scarred, burnt up, just a hole in my chest.

I’ll wait.

It’s dead.

Well, I won’t wait forever.

Good, cause its real, real, dead.

Like twenty years or something maybe.


Anyway, you better go get your Daddy before he bets away his good leg.

Okay Dwayne. When I’m a big porno actress in Hollywood maybe you’ll come out and swim in my heart shaped pool.

Oh. I can’t get my head wet Lucinda. You tell your Momma to call down to the station when she gets done gutting that squirrel.