From Manhattan Newsroom To London Stage

Stephen Smith is an editor for CBSNews.com and a first-time playwright.

Never did I ever imagine I'd be a playwright in London. But it happened last week.

The unlikely turn of events was set in motion two years ago. Mining experiences from my work in the media, I decided to write a play in my spare time. The script (called "News") is a dark comedy about an obituary writer. Blending sensational journalism, dark secrets and accidental incest, the story is as far-fetched as two of the characters' names (Riboflavin Jones and Dr. Edna Bong).

Writing the play was a diversion. As someone who spends most of my days churning out breaking news reports, it was fun spending my nights churning out outlandish plot points.

This winter, I sent off the script to a dozen theaters in New York. I also saw a listing for a play reading festival in London. The deadline was just two days away but I dropped the script in the mail anyway.

A few months went by before I received my first rejection. Then another. And another. Still, I was heartened that two of the theaters expressed some measure of encouragement. One even cited my "imaginative voice."

Then came an email in May. It was from the North American Actors Association in London. My script was among six winners of their annual play reading festival. It would be cast and directed by professionals in the city's West End.

Six weeks later, I was on a plane with my fiancée to see my London debut.

Walking into the theater, I met the cast members: Tim Davenport, who played the obit writer, Nigel; Laurence Bouvard, who played Nigel's girlfriend, Sophie; and Pepe Balderrama who played Nigel's coworker, Riboflavin. William Neenan and Debbie Bridge were cast as Nigel's eccentric friends, Chet and Veronica.

Weary from long rehearsals but fueled by adrenaline, the actors greeted me warmly.

"We were all curious to meet the twisted mind that created this play," said Nancy Baldwin, who played Nigel's therapist Dr. Bong.

A few hours later, the audience filed into the darkened theater. The lights came up and the music faded.

The next two hours were surreal. The actors dove in to their roles, transforming my words on paper into full-fledged characters. The performances were fast, furious and witty.

I was stunned how expertly the cast had interpreted the quirky characters I had written. The scenes unfolded on stage nearly exactly as they had in my head.

There were two small exceptions: Riboflavin, written as an African American, was now Mexican American; and Dr. Bong, who is supposed to be half-Korean, was played by a blond-haired white woman.

There was an extra layer of drama that evening: my mother was there. She had flown all the way from Washington, D.C. to support "her son, the playwright" as she had taken to telling her friends.

It was a treat having her in the audience. I knew she'd smile upon recognizing a few of the play's details that were culled from real life. But her presence was equally nerve-wracking: I wasn't sure how she'd react to some of the "X-rated" dialogue. Sure enough, during one particularly graphic speech involving unmentionable sexual exploits, I could feel my mom's red-faced stare.

Motherly embarrassment notwithstanding, the play was a success. Like any writer, I winced at certain parts I wish I'd crafted better; but on the whole, the reading - thanks to the inspired work by the cast and director - exceeded all my expectations. That the audience laughed numerous times was all the validation I needed.

I am now back in New York. Back in my newsroom cubicle. I can't say I'm ready to quit my day job. But, after my exhilarating London debut, I plan on continuing my night job.