For a few years now, I've wanted to submit Traveling Light to this theatre company: 

LOOK how CUTE it is! Don't you just want to hug it?

It even has a pub!

Here's their script criteria:

We encourage script submissions on all subjects and themes, but we are particularly interested in:
• New writing by writers of all ages.
• Plays that are politically and socially engaged.
• Works for music theatre.
• Plays about the Kensington and Chelsea area, local history and personalities.
• Adaptations of obscure books written after 1800.
• Plays that are artistically ambitious and thematically expansive.
• Plays with large casts.
• We welcome scripts from international writers, but can only accept plays written in English, Scots or Scots Gaelic.

They want me! They don't even know it! Okay, except for the "music theatre," "obscure books written after 1800," "large casts" and "Scots or Scots Gaelic" business. Brian Epstein lived (and died) two miles from their building! It's a perfect fit. 

And, finally, after years of dithering, I sat down in the back yard with my laptop, some bug spray, and a six-pack of Strongbow, and I re-formatted the script, made it look super purty, wrote them a nice cover letter and sent it. 

The last line of my cover letter, I hope, was not too purple. 

"The summer of 2017 would mark the 50th anniversary of the deaths of Joe Orton and Brian Epstein, as well as the day homosexuality was decriminalized in England. Let's use this play as a way to explore, celebrate and memorialize."

Oh, how my fingers hovered over the "send" button. I took a huge deep breath, looked up into the indigo sky, breathed into the Universe, and clicked. 

Here's hoping.