<p>just wondering if you could post some credentials related to dramatic writing.... because obviously that's going to be inextricably connected to whether or not they accept you.. also, it makes it hard for us to chance you without anything to base it off of</p>
<p>Ah, no problem. With your application, they want a portfolio of some of your writing. It doesn't have to be formal, it can just be any writing you'd like. This is part of a piece I'm working on right now. Hopefully, you'll get a taste of my writing abilities and whether they're horrible or not:</p>
<p>Jack Thorn is a simple man. He does not cry, he stares a lot, and his voice rarely is above a whisper. He is not complex, nor does he have any "layers." Mr. Thorn is as plain as plain can be. This was apparent to everyone in the park on this particular day. Mr. Thorn could be seen this bright afternoon on a bench perfectly placed next to a solid maple tree that drowned Jack and the bench in shade. What better way to convey Jack's mood than the juxtaposition this tree created. Here it was, a beautiful day; parents and their children playing, people taking a casual stroll.....even people just there to soak up the sun. And then there was Jack Thorn. </p>
<pre><code> Jack hated sunny days. He hated everything that came along with the sun: the brightness, the heat, and the frenzy these most-loathed days put into people. It was absolutely dreadful. Instead, Jack preferred to sit on his bench in the shadows and to ignore the sun......the one blemish on his so far, flawless day……and people noticed. There seemed to be no sign of life at all within ten feet of Jack. Not one person had passed his resting place since he arrived there 30 minutes ago. Only the birds had mustered the courage to greet Mr. Thorn, hoping for scraps of his sandwich…..and Jack obliged. Eyes transfixed in his morning paper, he threw bits of an uneaten half of his squab sandwich to the pigeons surrounding him……a feeding frenzy ensued.
This also created quite the interesting analogy. For…..like the birds, Jack was eating himself. No, Mr. Thorn was not licking his arm or gnawing on his thigh……but he was making himself more miserable by the moment. You see, he figured that if he kept his expectations low, threw the word “optimism” out the window, and was content with being unhappy, that he would never be disappointed. He had come to like being miserable….embraced it even. And that is the reason Jack sat in the park this day. You see, he had thought about ending his misery once and for all many times now. A bullet? Too clich