Packing, it occurs to me, would likely be significantly easier if I remembered to launder and - in some cases - unearth the items I wish to pack prior to the actual event.
Particularly when I am packing the night before an early morning trip, because I am not a morning person and I am even less of a morning person when I have to pack instead of drinking coffee and choosing shoes.
Having spent my evening having an entirely enjoyable meal with my friend Margaret in town, which may just possibly have involved us splitting a bottle of red and giggling like lunatics, I am even less inclined to pack, launder, unearth or generally do anything other than lounge around watching TV and "writing" (which this week involves a pattern of rather elegant but not altogether constructive flowers and an interesting Celtic knot design).
As of first thing tomorrow I shall be heading to Stratford Upon Avon with my friend & colleague Helen in a getting-away-from-everything last minute trip where we will likely shop, eat and get very merry.
And, if I can manage to form words rather than pictograms, I shall be spending some of the trip writing. This is why I am taking a bottle of ink and ... five notebooks.
In my defence one of those notebooks is a date-diary and I have already taken one from my bag, on the theory that six is just ridiculous, but five is eminently reasonable.
The First Step might be admitting you have a problem, but I believe the Second Step might well be to care.
(Step the Second is actually to put faith in a 'higher power', whatever that might be. This likely makes life difficult for those attempting to recover from megalomania).
It should probably be noted that none of this is actually helping me pack. I should join Procrastinators Anonymous.
And I will ... one of these days.
Thursday, 26 February 2009
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
Writing Workshop at the Churchill.
The 'Write a Play in a Day' Workshop at the Churchill went extremely well. I had set my expectations deliberately low (based on an utter lack of information), but even if I had gone into it with high hopes I'd have been pleasantly surprised at the outcome.
The mixture of quick-fire questions and hypothetical situations with little time to self-edit worked extremely well and although I cannot claim that I have an entire play I have an opening, fleshed characters, a skeleton plot & structure and a large springboard to push it into full draft.
I had an idea what direction I would write in when I stepped into the room (vague situational mock-ups and pithy one-liners in case of imagination failure); it wasn't until I was finishing the opening that I realised these had fallen completely by the wayside. It was nice to walk into the room with a blank notebook and leave some six/seven hours later with pages of new work, particularly as it flowed so easily.
My concerns for continuing it (because naturally I cannot but be plagued with doubt and uncertainty and curses at the permanency of ink) are threefold - my characters could easily fall to archetypes, the plot could quickly turn trite and formulaic and lastly - and unexpectedly - it has a streak of autobiographical leaning that alarms me.
Points the first and second are easily remediable (for a given definition of the word 'easily', but the last gives me pause for thought. It's not autobiographical in the situation and certainly not a self-insertion, but it has managed to stir up far too much in my head and I'm still trying to work out if I can work around that to complete it.
Intention currently is to finish up my notes for the day then set it aside for a few weeks and see how I feel then. Right now I am enthused about completing it, but I am somewhat loathe to actually do so.
Then again, Script Frenzy commences in April and - while the last thing I need is another writing challenge having barely recovered from November's NaNoWriMo - it would be nice to have some structure to work to again.
And by 'structure' I do apparently mean 'superlatively ridiculous deadlines to rush toward within a 30-day period before passing out’, if past performance is to be taken into account.
The mixture of quick-fire questions and hypothetical situations with little time to self-edit worked extremely well and although I cannot claim that I have an entire play I have an opening, fleshed characters, a skeleton plot & structure and a large springboard to push it into full draft.
I had an idea what direction I would write in when I stepped into the room (vague situational mock-ups and pithy one-liners in case of imagination failure); it wasn't until I was finishing the opening that I realised these had fallen completely by the wayside. It was nice to walk into the room with a blank notebook and leave some six/seven hours later with pages of new work, particularly as it flowed so easily.
My concerns for continuing it (because naturally I cannot but be plagued with doubt and uncertainty and curses at the permanency of ink) are threefold - my characters could easily fall to archetypes, the plot could quickly turn trite and formulaic and lastly - and unexpectedly - it has a streak of autobiographical leaning that alarms me.
Points the first and second are easily remediable (for a given definition of the word 'easily', but the last gives me pause for thought. It's not autobiographical in the situation and certainly not a self-insertion, but it has managed to stir up far too much in my head and I'm still trying to work out if I can work around that to complete it.
Intention currently is to finish up my notes for the day then set it aside for a few weeks and see how I feel then. Right now I am enthused about completing it, but I am somewhat loathe to actually do so.
Then again, Script Frenzy commences in April and - while the last thing I need is another writing challenge having barely recovered from November's NaNoWriMo - it would be nice to have some structure to work to again.
And by 'structure' I do apparently mean 'superlatively ridiculous deadlines to rush toward within a 30-day period before passing out’, if past performance is to be taken into account.
Thursday, 12 February 2009
Don't Feed The Plants!
Went to see Little Shop of Horrors at the Churchill Theatre yesterday, which was fabulous but then I expected nothing less. I took my nearly-fourteen year old sister as a pre-birthday treat which seemed to go down quite well, although let it be known that a) Bromley is not always the easiest place to get to and b) SatNav lies.
Very glad I got to see it on tour as I'd missed its run at Menier Chocolate Factory (the usual combination of poverty and procrastination) and had spent the last year seething. I have always loved Little Shop, it was - to my knowledge - the first musical I ever saw (age five or maybe six) and I think it still ranks as my favourite (although The Last Five Years does prevent it from being an unchallenged victor).
Next week I'll be back at the Churchill for a writing workshop - not quite sure what to expect from it, but even worst case scenario I take a day out to concentrate on pen-to-paper and hide in a corner doing so. My main concern is that, as part of the A Night Less Ordinary 'theatre for the Under 26s' promotion and running during half term it will be used as sneaky daycare and be filled with ten year olds.
Not that I have anything against children per se, just that I like to think - LIKE mind - that my writing has developed since I hit double figures and I'd prefer to move forward on that assumption.
Tonight I shall be having dinner in my favourite restaurant, but tomorrow should be quiet, after which I have the entirity of the weekend to write. Except for Sunday where I shall be in Covent Garden drinking Mojitos.
All things considered things are on the up. If only the wordcount would follow suite I'd be golden.
Very glad I got to see it on tour as I'd missed its run at Menier Chocolate Factory (the usual combination of poverty and procrastination) and had spent the last year seething. I have always loved Little Shop, it was - to my knowledge - the first musical I ever saw (age five or maybe six) and I think it still ranks as my favourite (although The Last Five Years does prevent it from being an unchallenged victor).
Next week I'll be back at the Churchill for a writing workshop - not quite sure what to expect from it, but even worst case scenario I take a day out to concentrate on pen-to-paper and hide in a corner doing so. My main concern is that, as part of the A Night Less Ordinary 'theatre for the Under 26s' promotion and running during half term it will be used as sneaky daycare and be filled with ten year olds.
Not that I have anything against children per se, just that I like to think - LIKE mind - that my writing has developed since I hit double figures and I'd prefer to move forward on that assumption.
Tonight I shall be having dinner in my favourite restaurant, but tomorrow should be quiet, after which I have the entirity of the weekend to write. Except for Sunday where I shall be in Covent Garden drinking Mojitos.
All things considered things are on the up. If only the wordcount would follow suite I'd be golden.
Monday, 2 February 2009
Snowy Apocalypse
It started snowing last night in a fairly impressive fashion, yet being the diligent type that I am (with no comments from the peanut gallery, por favor), I schlepped out to the station last night to pick up my period train ticket.
Which I cannot now use as there are no trains.
My back up route is via bus ... and they've cancelled the buses, bar an alleged three routes within central London which I cannot get to because - as mentioned - there are no trains or buses into or out of the city centre.
The Apocalypse is a lot colder than I was expecting.
I will make another attempt to get into town in a few hours, otherwise I have meeting notes to type up and drafts to write and various DVD box sets that need ... love. They need love.
Meanwhile I am keeping an eye out for the four horsemen that, by legend, should be accompanying said Snowy Apocalypse. I can only assume that these too have been cancelled by Network Rail. Due to 'Inclement Weather'.
And, according to my friend Helen - who did managed to make it in by sneakily approaching from the North - Kings Cross is still running the standard 'Inclement Weather' disclaimer-cum-announcement.
If the weather continues in this fashion there is a very real risk that they will have to raise it to 'Beastly'.
Which I cannot now use as there are no trains.
My back up route is via bus ... and they've cancelled the buses, bar an alleged three routes within central London which I cannot get to because - as mentioned - there are no trains or buses into or out of the city centre.
The Apocalypse is a lot colder than I was expecting.
I will make another attempt to get into town in a few hours, otherwise I have meeting notes to type up and drafts to write and various DVD box sets that need ... love. They need love.
Meanwhile I am keeping an eye out for the four horsemen that, by legend, should be accompanying said Snowy Apocalypse. I can only assume that these too have been cancelled by Network Rail. Due to 'Inclement Weather'.
And, according to my friend Helen - who did managed to make it in by sneakily approaching from the North - Kings Cross is still running the standard 'Inclement Weather' disclaimer-cum-announcement.
If the weather continues in this fashion there is a very real risk that they will have to raise it to 'Beastly'.
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