COLD SPRING, N.Y. — Sharr White rises every weekday at 5 a.m. to get some writing in before his two little boys wake up. Aboard the 7:58 a.m. commuter train that snakes south along the Hudson River toward Manhattan, an hour-plus away, he reviews his morning’s output before grabbing a nap. At day’s end, he writes all the way home. White is 43, a square-jawed marketing guy who drives a black Lexus SUV. He is also, rather suddenly after long years of determined scribbling in obscurity, a Broadway playwright.
“I wrote three hours a day, at least, every day for 13 years before I got my first professional production,” he said last weekend, sitting on his back deck, an iced coffee in hand, his dog Jasper curled up under the table.