For millenia, men have written about sex and their work has been called Great Literature, however when women do it they are accused of being hypersexual or “only writing about what they know”. “All The Men Are Going To Hate Me” is about one woman’s attempt to write The Great (Female Novel) in the shadow of the male cannon and the difficulty (and joys!) of female creation. How does one write using male forms, male traditions, male language? Can one break the master’s home using the master’s tools? And, when communications fails, does one simply have to resort to interpretive dance? Part stand-up, part poetry, part theatre, part dance party.