My younger sister and our mutual best friend told me one day that they had been talking about it, and had come to the conclusion that an “Audrey Lang Play” had to have one of three elements: lesbians, sisters, and Jews. “But probably more than one,” they added. “Probably, actually, all three.” Some things are funny because they are absurdly false. But other things are funnier because they’re true — this observation most certainly fell into the latter category.

I create worlds with solidly realistic foundations that are shaken by the elements of magic that float through our daily lives, whether fantastical or theatrical. My characters grapple with issues of queer, Jewish, and female identity; mental health, specifically depression and anxiety; and the aftermath of trauma, in particular sexual assault and abuse. My stories are the journeys women go on to find each other’s companionship and care when they think they are alone.

An honest and equitable working environment in the rehearsal room and backstage is as important to me as the story onstage. I seek feedback from every individual involved in the process, and I have learned from experiences that did not reflect my values how I will proceed in the future. My space is a space of asking questions and asking for help, and my favorite habitat is one where I am surrounded by active collaborators and challengers.

I want to fight with respect and love. I want to argue with understanding and compassion. I want to foster a working spirit of joy. I want every day to feel like the first day — to have the wonder and genuine excitement of walking into something new — to feel brimming and bubbling over with possibility — to remind us all why we chose, a long time ago or maybe just yesterday, to tell stories.