1. Choose the right shirt. I like a Brooks Brothers pink dress shirt. It's what all the proper Main Line prep school boys wear. Upper East Side thrift stores are full of them.

2. Use the right blood. See my earlier post: Shopping for Blood. Look at Ricky's -- the ultra-hip New York City beauty stores -- definitely the go-to place for strange shopping needs. I chose Ben Nye Stage Blood, which oddly boasts a "zesty mint flavor." It has a good color, perfect viscosity, and comes in a handy squeeze bottle for a good spatter. It has effective clotting and a good drying time.

3. Find a photo you like for reference. This is what Google Image is made for. I googled "bloody shirt" and found a panoply of macabre choices. My instant favorite turned out to be a shirt Bruce Willis wore in Red, a film I liked very much. Turns out they auctioned it off. The photo was on the auction site with other memorabilia including Hagrid's crossbow and Brad Pitt's hood from Inglorious Basterds. I didn't try to duplicate Bruce's shirt exactly, but I used the photo for reference and splashed away. I liked the roughly triangular shape of the main splotch. And I liked the drops and smudges on the sleeves. Nice.

4. I strongly suggest doing this in the kitchen or bathroom. Maybe the tub. I found it easier to work on it flat, rather than hanging, but that may be personal taste. Put some newspaper under the shirt front so that the blood doesn't go through to the back of the shirt. You've heard the term 'bleed through?'

5. Control the blood flow. Don't use too much. It's easier to add blood -- spots, drops, and smudges -- later than to get rid of excess blood. Allow for ample drying time. Air drying is better than using a hair dryer, but use it if you are in a hurry. 

I find that being a playwright is not just sitting at the computer. A staged reading is a bare bones affair. I'm lucky to have an excellent Director (Jerry Schwartz) and an amazing professional Stage Manager, Liz Reddick, but I'm also happy to pitch in and buy blood and deploy it. 

The second rehearsal of Murder on the Main Line is tonight, the reading is tomorrow. The shirt is ready for its close-up.

We all know that life is full of ironies. But this one takes the (low cal, no carb) cake.

Just as my latest diet began to show dramatic results--nearly 30# on a no-carb (easy), no alcohol (hard,hard,hard) regime--I started preparing for a staged reading of my one-act play, MURDER ON THE MAIN LINE, about an elderly, bed-bound woman who discovers she is going to be murdered. 

The director, the great Jerry Schwartz, and I wanted to make it as close to an actual production as Equity rules would allow. (Actors Equity requires readings to be book-in-hand and have no elaborate costumes or props.) 

The wonderful (and admirably slender) Kathleen Huber is playing the lead and I figured we'd stuff a bunch of pillows under her night dress and bed covers and call it a day.

But then we bought the fat suit. 

Since I'm producing the reading, I get custody of the fat suit. And since a second staged reading is anticipated in Philadelphia next year, I will keep everything.

So I plan to hang the fat suit proudly--not in my walk-in closet off the bedroom--but in my coat closet near the apartment door. 

After all, some people have skeletons in their closets.  I'll have a cautionary tale--a fat suit.

Yesterday I was determined to get some shopping done and when I looked at my list, one item stood out. Blood. I needed blood.

I had met with Jerry Schwartz, the director who is preparing the staged reading of my play Murder on the Main Line.  As you may know, staged readings can be anything from actors in a row of chairs reading from scripts to something close to a full production with music, sound effects, blocking, props, bits of business, and, in this case, blood. Jerry favors a reading that is close to an actual production and we were working together to make it happen.

Among other items, blood ended up on my shopping list. 

I don't know about you, but when I need something a bit unconventional, I always try Ricky's first. And a terrific gal at Ricky's on Third Avenue was amazingly helpful.

It turns out that blood, or at least stage blood, comes in three types. There is conventional liquid stage blood for general uses. There's specially formulated blood for use in or near the mouth or nose. And there is a thick blood paste for specialty uses, particularly bullet holes or wounds where you want a clotted effect with no running.  

Who knew?

It turned out I needed conventional liquid blood and left happy.