February 9th, 2005


Seven Nights in the Bedroom
Gabriel Chad Boyer

5.5" X 8.5" | 199 Pages | $12.50 | Now Available

Click image to enlarge.

Click image to enlarge.


This is the story of Bedroom Theater, how it came to be, and how it made its way onto the road. Persons came on a weekly basis, and left in a huff. Eventually I needed to re-evaluate my own psychological scheme, and that perhaps something more should be asked of a person than that they open up their bedroom once a week to a slew of strangers with a hankering for theater.


It is as much a memoir of a particular time in Boston as anything else, a time when hopelessness was rife, but also a time when persons were doing their damnedest to create a modest creative atmosphere in which the best in us can sing. I often look back at that time as a perfect example of the Dickensian dichotomy in practice. We did what we could, but as usual all we could wasn’t good enough. Eventually, I would take Bedroom Theater on the road, my forays into the bedrooms of America ending in the Nevada desert, but that’s a whole other story.
I was slipping into debt at that time, and refused to leave my room, so I decided to bring the world to me instead, painting the plays for the week on my wall of windows. Eventually a stage was built by Mr. Waters (Somer, nephew to the more famous John), and the local newspapers took an interest, only to declare it a failed attempt as is to be expected. Occasional romantic failures dot these pages, and petty rivalries. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.