…and trusting that he knows how to fly the plane are two invaluable lessons for a new writer like myself; because as much as you can plan a short flight from Blankpageville to Writtensomething Town you can never prepare for bad weather when your head’s up in the clouds… and one thousand other analogies teniously associated with writing and flying.

Yesterday was exactly that, I started writing and immediately went off on a tangent, knowing that what I was writing didn’t resemble what I’d planned. It got to the point (about 10 pages in) when I said to myself “it’s good fun, but THIS is not THAT”, and there I almost left it, ten pages of new funny comedy, consigned to hard-disk. But then Autopilot kicked in. I knew I was too tired to start again (having started writing at 5AM and this now being almost lunchtime), it was then that Autopilot whispered “just write, have fun, who cares if it’s wrong, just enjoy yourself”. And that’s what I did. I wrote without fear, solely to entertain myself, with no rules or expectations, I could be as bold and as silly as I liked, and without anything guiding me except pleasure…
…I wrote something I never dreamed I could. Something which (in pieces) had nestled in the deepest part of my brain, crying out to be written, but always hidden by the thick fog of preparation and over-thought. This script is not what I’d planned, if I had planned it, it probably would have sucked… and worse still - been predictable.

Thank you Autopilot for switching on and thank you Navigator for being asleep. Now, I just pray we have enough fuel to get wherever it is we’re going.

More soon.
Mxxx

It’s five AM, I wake up, coffee on, laptop on, brain on-ish, ready for a whole day of rewrites, rejigs and (let’s be honest) cursing, only to now find myself at ten thirty AM, lying on my sofa with a wry smile on my face. The rewrite is done. Structurally it’s secure, it’s pacey, entertaining and the characters are engaging. Normally by this point I’d be niggling over a major flaw I can’t resolve, but having spent the last year writing this beast, the flaws are ironed out. Effectively “the bacon is now cooked” and it smells great. All it needs is a little ketchup.

So glad I listened to my brain. I’d almost given up on “Shopping For Bacon” forever; resigned to the fact that it was a good script with too many flaws, yet all it took was a little sledgehammer and a lot of bravery. The old writing lesson is true, “build the temple then start knocking away the pillars to see if it still stands up”. It’s amazing how (what you think are) major plot points become so minor and visa-versa, how characters flaws become their abiding strengths, and how even a glib little joke can spawn a whole new structure.

But why am I telling you this? You’ll never read the original versions. You’ll just see the final staged play, with actors, and sets, and sounds, and no screaming coffee-induced, bathrobe wearing image of me, swearing at that infernal flashing cursor on my laptop. I guess I just want you to know, when you sit there, watching, laughing, enjoying yourself, that as fun as it seems, it wasn’t easy to write. Comedy is pain. Comedy is emotion. But comedy is also (finally) relief. And if I’ve done my job properly, you won’t even know about or see the tears.

One more play to go.
Love & kisses. Mxxx

First, a successful shMOZle which left me very energised, then I did a spot as the Modern Man at supremo promoter Mr Sean Brightman’s fabulous We Love Comedy with the comedic talents of Lenny Peters, Liam C McKay, Hannah Deasy and “dangerous” Chris Dangerfield and expertly MC’d by Jools Constant. Then had a truly amazing night producing Snippets, MC’d by the brilliant Stephen Bailey, with top flight acts such as Catherine Semark, John Rushton, Lawrence Bassett, the amazing Daniel Simonsen and the pure insanity of Doctor Brown. What an amazing night. Standing room only, wall-to-wall laughter and all this on Black Tuesday as we call it. Wow! Phew!

And from almost eighty people I made… about £4. Tight bastards. That was a truly excellent comedy night, and the audience shafted me. Bastards.

Off to sleep now to dream of more days like that. Only with more money.

Slaters.
Mxxx

…diddly-dee-dee diddle-di-di-dee, diddly-dee, diddle-di-di-dee… etc etc blah blah… we’re heading to Edders (echo Edders), where all is battered, with no hint of salad (echo salad), or fish or a prawn…” and other offensive lyrics.

Yes, the Festival of Festivals is almost amongst us; comedians and performers from across the land are sharpening their gags and are ready to commence battle, not just with their wits, but also with their livers and overall endurance.

The first Edinburgh outing for shMOZle is in just twenty days. Eek! Am I ready? Hmm. I think so. Which is not to say I couldn’t roll out a performance right now. I mean I rehearse three-to-four hours a day, every day, and double that at weekends to get the timing spot on, but then again every day I find something new and exciting in the show, even just a simple shift in phrasing, a different facial expression or even a shrug in place of a nod, nudges the character in a different way.

Even today, I decided to (not rewrite my final scene but) perform it with a smile and a wink instead of a grimace and a grumble, and God was it better, much better. It gave it the sinister edge I was looking for. I guess that’s what happens when you are your own director; every day is a journey of self-discovery and re-invention, you have to keep your eyes and ears open always because no-one is going to do it for you.

One big fat weekend of rehearsals (and coffee) ahead of me.

More later my lovelies.

Mxxx