Written by Kristen Da Silva
Directed by Jack Boyagian
Produced by Rebecca Reid
Performance Dates: April 24 – May 10, 2026 (9 shows)
Best Western Plus Cobourg, Dinner Theatre
Audition Details
- Sunday, January 11, 2026; 7-9pm, Firehall Theatre
- Tuesday, January 13, 2026; 7-9pm, Firehall Theatre
- Thursday, January 15, 2026; 7-9pm, Firehall Theatre, reserved for callbacks if necessary
Cold reads will be used in scenes with others. A short monologue will be performed. One is provided below for each character. Exact time will be scheduled depending on the number of people auditioning and combinations of actors on a given night. Be prepared to stay 7-9.
We welcome actors of all backgrounds, identities, and experience levels to audition. Casting will be based on performance fit, chemistry, and comedic skill.
To book your audition: email Producer Rebecca Reid
Include your name, contact info, and preferred audition date.
Questions: email Director Jack Boyagian
About the Play
Where You Are is set on Manitoulin Island, where sisters Glenda and Suzanne have lived together for many years, ever since Suzanne arrived single, penniless, and pregnant, and moved in with her sister and brother-in-law. When Suzanne’s now-adult daughter, Beth, returns to the island to visit her mother and her now-widowed aunt, sparks fly between Beth and the sisters’ neighbour, Patrick, but the women must confront some concealed truths that will change all of their lives forever.
This new Canadian play is a heartfelt, barbed, romantic comedy about family, forgiveness, and falling in love.
Characters
- Suzanne: can play 50s – early 60s
- Glenda: can play 50s – early 60s
- Beth: can play 30s – early 40s
- Patrick: can play 30s – early 40s
Rehearsal Schedule
Rehearsals begin with table reads and scene study Tue, Jan 20; Tue, Jan 27; and, Thu, Jan 29 – 7pm
Weekly schedule: Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday evenings 7-9:30pm starting February 3.
Monologues
Beth
Telling Patrick what she believes love is
For me, it’s not the showy stuff. That shed you’re working on used to be my uncle’s shop.
He was fixing up this old Harley in there. He loved working on that bike. Then my aunt started making her jams and her hawberry jelly. Right away, people were lining up for it.
She was thrilled, but it wasn’t long before we started running out of space for her inventory in the house. We had jam jars everywhere except the bathroom. So, one day he took that old bike down to the roadside and put a for sale sign on it. Then he packed up all his tools and his workbench and he converted the shed into storage. When she saw it, she was furious. She told him to put it all back.
That’s what she’s like, she never wants to be a bother to anyone. He refused. He told her he was bored of working on the bike and he’d been thinking of selling it for a while. anyway. But I was there the day it was picked up and his eyes were nearly brimming over watching that Harley be loaded into someone else’s truck. When I asked him why he did it, he said “because nothing matters more than her.”
Patrick
Talking about going to see his ex get married
It was weird, just like you all warned me it would be. I’d always imagined it, you know, when it was me she was marrying. I imagined the moment of seeing her for the first time in the church. The “Bridal Chorus” striking up: da da da da, and everyone turning to look at the bride. But when I finally saw her today— all in white, sunlight streaming through the stained glass, the music swelling-I didn’t feel anything.
Really? Nothing?
Well, actually, not nothing. I felt sorry for vegan Chad. I mean, that whole wedding was our wedding. All the details were exactly what she’d planned with me, except there was a new guy playing the part of the groom.
She really did a number on me. We had everything planned out, and then, suddenly, I’m standing alone at this gaping chasm where my future had been. Everyone told me it would get better with time. And tonight I finally see they were right.
Glenda or Suzanne
Telling her sister why she didn’t want anyone to know she was sick
No. I was protecting myself. From how you’d treat me. From how, even in happy moments, I’d see a degree of sorrow in your eyes and that would make it harder for me to pretend my life is still normal. Because, since I got sick, it’s hard for me to take things for granted. That’s what separates people that are dying from everyone else. You’re not looking up at a full moon wondering if it’ll be your last. You’re probably not looking at it at all. But me? Everything could be my last. My last full moon, the last time I see a monarch butterfly, the last time I hear Van Morrison sing “Brown Eyed Girl.” Isn’t that the cruellest joke? I can’t just enjoy a song anymore without thinking about all the times I heard it before and wishing I could go back to any one of them. Be anywhere In the timeline of my life but where I am. At the end. So, I didn’t want to tell you because, If I’m lucky, I get a couple minutes a day where I forget and I take things for granted, just like everyone else. Like the way the air smells tonight. Did you notice it? I didn’t. Not until just now. It smells like summer-like flowers and dew on the grass. Last year, I sat out here nearly every evening and breathed all of that in without noticing it. (Beat.) That was my last summer.