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.
