Molly Miller

Molly was raised in Woodinville, WA and grew up building forts in the forest and running through poison ivy to escape imaginary tree monsters. She left the woods to attend The University of Chicago where she double majored in Political Science and Theatre. After graduation Molly became the youngest performing improviser on a house team at the iO Theater and was cast in productions at the Court Theatre, The Annoyance and The Second City. While performing, Molly partnered with The Public House Theatre to write and produce a series of plays, including her long-running dramedy, Double Booked. In 2015 she wrote and executive produced Tribulation: The Musical, which opened for a six month run at the Mission Theatre where it received critical acclaim and went on to mount at the New York Fringe Festival. In 2017 Molly began her MFA in Screenwriting at USC where she was an Annenberg Fellow and the recipient of the 2018 Edward Small Screenwriting Award. Since graduating Molly has become obsessed with the criminal justice system. When she’s not at court Molly can be found watching crime dramas while doing jigsaw puzzles.

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$7000 of Chips Vanished

The house always wins. Jian Qiao Chen had already lost $3,000 playing Baccarat. He was about to lose even more. But not to a card game. Chen was gambling at the Commerce Casino, an establishment that has a church-basement vibe, complete with matted floral carpeting and rickety, red-cushioned chairs. Guests expecting the glitz of the Vegas strip might describe it as “seedy,” but for serious players, it’s a hub of competition. According to their website, the Commerce Casino is California’s # 1 venue for games of skill....

A Joking Matter?

I submit to you a list of professions where humorous banter is an asset: accountant, car salesman, realtor, dentist, personal trainer, construction worker, civil engineer, dog trainer, photographer, microbiologist, professor, chef, waitress, actor, electrician, plumber, marketing director, novelist, tour guide, magician, landscaper, receptionist, librarian, violinist, glass-blower, zoologist, and garbage man. I submit to you a list of professions in which humorous banter is a liability: funeral home director, child oncologist, and criminal courts judge. It’s a Thursday morning and I’m seated in the gallery behind a...

I Hate Men

I fucking hate men. Jogging down the cement steps of the courthouse stairwell, all eleven floors, it’s all I can think. I’m blistering with rage. This is the trial of Stephen Houk, a registered sex offender who is accused of abusing his spouse, Amey, and kidnapping their young children in the couple’s motorhome as he fled the police after Amey called the cops. Houk drove four hours in the RV from LA County to Bakersfield with cops on his heels. He told Amey over the phone “this...

Facing Your Rapist in a Courtroom

It’s silent. It’s been 46 seconds and Kevin hasn’t said a word. He sits at the witness stand, hands in his lap. A teenager, slight in frame, Kevin wears a black turtleneck and moss green pants. His dark hair is spiked in front. It’s trendy in a way that reminds us that he’s still just a kid. And right now he’s staring down the man who sexually abused him. This is Kevin’s victim impact statement, his opportunity to speak during the...

It’s Like Turning the TV Off — Mid-Episode

On-again off-again on-again off. In many ways Leione and Gabriel’s relationship was fresh off the CW airwaves. They were young and attractive. Leoine was petite with black hair and glossy auburn highlights. Gabriel was thick chested with a strong jawline and bright smile. The romance was a whirlwind – the kind of young love whose pattern of explosive breakups and steamy make-ups fringed on melodrama. When Leione started working as an exotic dancer at a North Hollywood strip club, Gabriel didn’t approve. When Gabriel bought a gun for protection, Leoine...

The Wobbler

Two white lawyers on the verge of old age sit in a courtroom waiting for their cases to be called. Both are representing young men who got into tussles with the law. One of the attorneys reads the paper. His finely pressed sleeve falls to reveal a gold watch. The other fumbles with folders in a fine leather briefcase. The newspaper man folds the paper in his lap. A thought just struck him. “You know, I feel for these kids. I did tons of stupid shit when I was young.”