It’s been a while since my last posting. Chiefly cos I have had nothing to say. “I am writing”, that would have been about it. And with me being a playwright, that wouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. Cos sometimes you just have to knuckle down and write the blighters. Put the hours in. Hours and hours and hours.
Writing is re-writing to quote Paul Abbott at you. But sometimes a re-write isn’t enough. Sometimes it’s a case of opening a brand new document and starting all over again. Not as catchy a quote, admittedly.
It’s difficult and frustrating and the blank white page staring at me makes me want to throw things and/or cry in a corner but sometimes it’s just plain necessary. Trying to write over what I’ve already done can be more limiting than helpful, so starting again from scratch is the only way.
Of course, the work already put in is never wasted (even though it might feel that way sometimes) and some of it may still be included. But often, I find, I end up with nothing of what came before save maybe a couple of lines.
No point in flogging a dead horse – clear the decks, take the feedback and critique that is going, use it and come out with something better.
Easy to say. But – put the hours in and it’ll come good eventually, won’t it. Won’t it?
- In other news, Forward Theatre Project braved the rain and saw the Tobacco double-bill staged at the Latitude Festival. Congrats to all involved and click [here] to read Paines Plough’s blog on the event, which includes a nice mention for the show
- In other other news, August = Edinburgh Fringe Festival. I can’t make it up this year, but shameless plugs for Donna Disco by Lee Mattinson and Taketh Me Away by Frazer Flintham. I’d love to have a show on at the Fringe again, finding it difficult to believe it is 7 years since Patricia Quinn Saved My Life. But. Never say never …