Meet Mak Shealy | Writer & Performer

We had the good fortune of connecting with Mak Shealy and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Mak, why did you pursue a creative career?

I wanted to find a community. Plain and simple, I knew if I found a way to get onstage, to write and tell stories, that I’d inevitably find myself in community with the kind of people I’d been longing to be around my entire life. And I was right.

I’ve been nourished and fed by the people I’ve met through my pursuit of a career as a writer and performer and I continue to be renewed by my peers each and every time I’m close to despair — which is easy to sink into in this business, even if you know making art is the only thing that really makes you happy. It sounds dramatic to write it out like that, but it’s true.

Writing and performing in the theatre has given me a strong sense of collaboration, which I let guide all of my relationships — there is always a give and take, and there should always be space for many different voices in the room to weigh in. It’s my favorite way to create, being in conversation and allowing enough breath in the work for new perspectives to seep into the story makes any play, film, pilot or performance all the more rich.

I think you need a community to be truly unwavering in your pursuit of a dream, a goal, an idea. Maybe it’s because I’m queer, but I do really believe that more is more and being surrounded by other artists, getting to celebrate and uplift their work and learn alongside them, that’s what generating a creative life means to me. If there is a door I can swing open first, great, I’m waving in all the people I love right beside me.

Can you open up a bit about your work and career? We’re big fans and we’d love for our community to learn more about your work.

Right now I’m taking my solo show, LEAKY, on a little tour of the East Coast and I’m hoping to do a full run here in LA in 2024. Leaky is a show about digestive trauma and overcoming fear and doubt in spite of all the monstrous voices in our heads. I’ll be taking this show around the country and abroad to fringe festivals next year, so I’m stoked for that. It’s been a fun one to work on because I got to build a soundscape and record the voices for all of the characters that my director, Mike Luciano, wove into an audio play for me to work with during the show. I love getting to lean into comedy for this play, since I’m usually cast in pretty dark material, it’s nice to work on something that brings continued levity and connection to the audience, and to me while I’m performing. Come check it out!

A creative path is never easy and even when you’ve reached another level up, there is always the next thing you’re aiming at, so it requires inhuman levels of resilience most of the time. Writing and performing are baked into my life, even when I don’t have a formal opportunity on deck, I’ll make one happen, because I know if I don’t have something to look forward to, I’ll get gloomy. I’m a pain in the ass when I’m gloomy, so really, me being creative is just trying to spare all my loved ones the desperate kind of “what is the meaning of life” phone calls I tend to make when I’m not acting in something or in process with a new piece of writing.

My story is a cliche one in a lot of ways. Small town kid who didn’t fit in, accidentally went to theatre camp, decided to become an artist and then got in a lot of debt going to NYU, but made it out with the best friends I’ve ever had and some tools to carve my artistic path with. I feel really lucky that my parents have always been incredibly encouraging about my creative pursuits. I grew up as a “gifted child,” so there was always a lot of pressure to do something great with my life. Being an artist was and is the best thing I could think of using my skillsets for. It’s really the only thing that makes long term sense to me and the only type of career where you can keep evolving, changing, growing and documenting that growth.

I started writing because I wanted to make space for queer, trans and non-binary folks in the theatre, and I’ve continued to write because I want to expand that impact to TV & Film work too. I’m particularly concerned with taking up space in rural communities, where our existence is being constantly questioned, threatened or denied. I grew up around a lot of extremes and went to college around another set of extremes, both in terms of economics and politics. I’ve been really lucky to have generative conversations with all kinds of people. I love to listen, but I also believe strongly in protecting queer and trans kids and making them feel safe, no matter where they are. As much as some would like to deny it, we’re everywhere and we deserve to be respected everywhere. Rural queers are often the quiet soul of a region, and I want to create work where they can see themselves reflected authentically, not just as a stereotype or punchline.

I build worlds that reflect queer people existing within the full spectrum of our complexity. There are moments of rage and grief colliding with tenderness and exuberant joy.
My plays need fast paced artists, with dexterity of mind, body and spirit.
My plays are best felt in motion, they are dreamscapes usually filled with ghosts and create a logic all their own. Even when they are set in a moment of distant past, the future is always humming in the distance; the present, a mosquito bite you cannot help but scratch.
I am writing in conversation with the audience, not in anticipation or in reaction. The real play is what is awakened within their humanity, what they leave with still ringing in their ears.
The goal is communal catharsis when the dust settles and the lights are out.
Like dancing through the night and when the sun peaks above the horizon you breathe in so deep your feet don’t even hurt. You look to your right, to your left. Those are your people. There is a shoulder. You rest.

If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?

Alright, for argument’s sake let’s imagine you arrive Saturday night. I’ll have dinner waiting for you at my place and it’ll usually be a vegetable pasta full of spices and herbs. We’ll go to bed early because Sunday is gonna be packed.

First things first, we’re going to Millie’s for breakfast because I have no idea what they put in the vegan green burrito, but it’s the best thing I’ve put into my mouth since finding out I’m highly allergic to eggs. We’re getting two matcha lattes to go and getting in the car for a brief hop skip and jump over to Pasadena. We’ll listen to boygenius and Japanese Breakfast on the way there. We’re gonna spend the day wandering around The Huntington Gardens. Maybe we’ll do shroom chocolate. Depends on the weather.

If you’re looking for beach day, we’re going to Point Dume and we’re going to sit at the top of the hike and watch for whales, dolphins and sea lions. We’ll get snacks at a gas station on the way and eat sour gummy worms while we look at the ocean. I’ll definitely bully you into going into the water with me, no matter the season. It’s just what you do at a beach, any beach.

I’ll usually have to rehearse during the week, whether it’s for an upcoming show, or a new project, so a fair amount of daylight will be devoted to that or writing. I try and clock a minimum of 3 hours a day working on whatever script is keeping my attention and another 1-2 hours of reading and research, since most of my work is based around things I need to learn a bit about before and during the writing process. After I’m done with work, I’ll take you to dinner at a favorite spot in my neighborhood, Alimento, where they perfectly pair wine, appetizers and pasta dishes. I’m an Italian food fiend and this place never misses. After dinner, I’ll suggest a long walk to Los Feliz 3 Cinemas or the Vista (which is FINALLY OPEN) for us to catch a new movie or an old classic. I’d be at a movie theater or seeing a live show every night if I had the time and resources.

I’m constantly keeping an eye on what’s happening at a few comedy and performance venues in the area, PDA being my absolute favorite, because the community is so welcoming and it’s where I developed my solo show last summer, so it feels like home. It’s over in Altadena and the drive is quick and easy from the east side. I love keeping tabs on Lyric Hyperion, The Elysian and Dynasty Typewriter too. They’ve always got great performers and new shows popping in.

I’ll absolutely insist on driving you to the airport, so we’ll have the car ride to LAX to listen to a podcast or the news on the way. I’ll joke about sticking a joint in your sock, but won’t actually do it. I’ll hug you goodbye and then ask if I can crash on your couch next time I’m in your city. You’ll laugh and I’ll take you up on it in the next few months, especially if you’ve got a spare couch in New York.

The Shoutout series is all about recognizing that our success and where we are in life is at least somewhat thanks to the efforts, support, mentorship, love and encouragement of others. So is there someone that you want to dedicate your shoutout to?

I’ve got so many, so I’ll keep it local!

Here in Los Angeles, I was lucky enough to be in a cohort with both Jasmine Sharma and Xavier Clark who are both extremely talented writers and actors that should be on everyone’s radar. Getting to build my play Victorian Psychedelic Sleepover Play alongside their work was absolutely key in getting across the finish line to completely sold out readings over the summer. I will always want to work with them on any project and I will always be screaming their praises from the rooftops.

The entire staff at PDA (Public Displays of Altadena; aka the coolest spot to put up your shows — you name it, they’re the best incubator for it!!), especially Budd Diaz, were so helpful in getting my solo-show, LEAKY, off the ground. I’m so inspired by the work they’re doing and the community they’ve created. Check them out! Likewise, I’ve been lucky enough to perform LEAKY at the Lyric Hyperion and I can’t wait to keep collaborating with them — it’s the perfect intimate theatre for new work and the crowds are always iconic.

I was lucky enough to be connected to Amy Berryman and to be in several of her playwriting classes and I’m a better writer and person for it. My writing has grown leaps and bounds because of her mentorship and guidance. Take her classes!! See her plays!!

Through the IAMA Emerging Playwrights Lab I was connected to an incredibly talented director, Emily Moler, who I’m excited to collaborate with again and again.

Nicole Delsack is an actor I’ll write anything for. They’re generous onstage and off and our birthdays are only a day apart.

My best friend, Michelle Driscoll (comedian, writer, genius), who I’m launching a podcast with early next year (stay tuned) and my best friend Dana Majeski (actor, writer, angel)– both of them have been the rocks of my sanity while I’ve self-produced my solo show over the past year.

My family, who constantly finds a way to show up, front row, wherever I’m performing or showcasing new work.

And Mike Luciano, who is an unwavering source of support and inspiration in my life. I’m the luckiest person to get to collaborate with you and I can’t wait to see what we come up with next. Rumor has it we’ve got three movies to write in the next three months, so hopefully we live to tell the tale of another impossible task we’ve set for ourselves.

Website: makwashere.org

Instagram: @makattackssnacks

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/mak-shealy-85a6a7231/

Twitter: @makuwannasnack

Image Credits
Matt Kallish; Jill Petracek