Lydia Stewart
Bio
Lydia is a freelance copywriter and playwright, watercolorist and gardener living in Michigan. She loves to collaborate with writer friends, one of whom she married. Her inspirations come from all of these interests and relationships.
Stories (37)
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Do Theater in Small Towns
When someone finds out you're a theater artist but live (and have always lived) in small Midwestern towns, they usually say something like, "Well, you know you will probably need to move to a bigger city if you want to be successful." Even non-artists know that the place to make a name for yourself isn't a town of 10,000. It's places like NYC, NY; Portland, OR; Chicago, IL; Greenville, SC; LA, CA. Lots of theaters, producers, actors, and, most importantly, audiences and their money are in the big places. The big places filter down to the smaller places. More people hear about your work and hopefully, it will live long after you do. That's the generally accepted pathway. Maybe these people are right. It's certainly the most obvious observation. But it's not the only one. Small-town theater has a place in the world, and so do theater artists who choose to do it. A few arguments for small-town theater artists:
By Lydia Stewartabout a year ago in Art
To the Female Artists Before Me
Dear Female Artists Before Me: I don't know your names, though I've probably met you. I just didn't know that the sweet, 80-year-old on oxygen was the person who built this lamppost that I'm repainting for our Christmas production. It's been in a garage for at least 15 years, and this year it is getting a fresh life. Did you know it still worked when we plugged it in? As I repaint this, I'm just guessing why you made it or how it was used, but man, am I grateful I could just pull it out of storage and dress it up. But you dreamed it up and built it for me, all those years ago.
By Lydia Stewartabout a year ago in Humans
Snickerdoodles in a Bathtub. Runner-Up in Tales of Hearth Challenge.
I surveyed my sled options. I could ride one of two wooden pallets, the upside-down hood of a car, your typical saucer sled, a tire, a real toboggan intended for the purpose, or in a bathtub.
By Lydia Stewartabout a year ago in Families
The Door in the Wall. Runner-up in Spooky Micro Challenge.
There was only one rule: don’t open the door. This was a difficult rule when you were small, and the door was tiny and at your level. Mika was certain that fairies lived there. She had noticed it one day while playing in her grandmother's kitchen. It looked like an interesting knot. She stared at it, and it seemed to change. She reached out toward it and--
By Lydia Stewartabout a year ago in Horror
When Water is Everything
There was a line of people at the front of the room who were both supposed to be there and weren't. One was a man, about forty, and the other two were his children. The girl was 14, the boy 18--and in the long box beside them, as if sleeping, lay the man's wife and the children's mother.
By Lydia Stewartabout a year ago in Psyche
The Isolation of the Playwright
For the last five years, I have enjoyed a collaborative relationship with a songwriter and musician. We have written four musicals together and gone on to produce and direct them together. We talk through every choice together and enjoy the kind of community that is necessary to make a play happen. I had forgotten how uncommon that is, because:
By Lydia Stewart2 years ago in Writers
My Remarkable Grandma, Elaine
I have been telling people about my delightful maternal grandmother for years. She was one of the most talented, sneakily funny, and interesting women I’ve ever known. I’ve written and performed characters based on her while wearing the clothes she made and let me borrow. While directing a theatrical production, I’ve taken cast members to her to learn things I couldn’t teach them, and there’s a Chicken Soup for the Cat Lover’s Soul published with a story about her in it. I have journal pages filled with hilarious Grandma Quotes. Because of her influence and teaching, I get to write for a living. So today, one day and a half after she slipped quietly home to Jesus, I’m going to tell you again about this remarkable woman.
By Lydia Stewart2 years ago in Families
Stars in My Pockets. Top Story - March 2024.
The La-Z-boy chair was burgundy. Carefully selected to meet my mother’s needs of both comfort and stability, this chair had the added bonus of also matching the living room. There came a day when I couldn’t hug her for fear of hurting her, but I could lean into her by leaning into the chair’s cushions.
By Lydia Stewart2 years ago in Families
Marriage Interview, February 2024
I’ve been married for 4 years and 7 months, and today I was visited by a younger version of myself. She has, of course, managed to travel forward in time to find me and is astonished at the wedding ring on my finger. I don’t blame her, especially since she is asking me the questions I never got answers to. (How DOES that work?) We sat down with drinks, hot coffee for me, cool lemonade for her, and I let her ask. She was anxious and didn’t know how to ask, but since I am she, I could interpret. (Try not to think about it too much.)
By Lydia Stewart2 years ago in Futurism
I Only Jingle When I Move
Dear mercy, girl. She does this at least once a week. She was just talking about this on the cell on the trip home, about how she really shouldn't be driving. We all knew that. But we all had to get home, and no one else could drive. Not that she would have asked us. Not that we have thumbs. Whatever.
By Lydia Stewart2 years ago in Fiction
