On The Edge

It’s a weird experience I’m going through this week. I’ve had an odd ‘career’ as a writer so far to date. Produced work includes a show in a restaurant about cous cous, and a studio show with a panda suit, ┬ánecrophilia jokes and, quite naturally lots of eerie silences.

In common with everything I’ve done is that I’ve been heavily involved; I’ve sat in on rehearsals, talked about things, usually either my problems or my genius as a writer. Actually I’ve never had a conversation about my genius as a writer. The last piece I wrote, now some years ago (if ever anyone suffered from the difficult second album syndrome), I also directed. It seemed insane, it’s common knowledge it seems with playwrights that you should never direct your own work. Which is why this week I have the surreal feeling of going to see a play I’ve written but have had nothing to do with other than that. The first time I will see the show will be on the opening night. There are good reasons for this, I’ve directed a few shows so am incredibly opinionated, there is usually a loud intake of breath when I like a show, so how would I react to seeing my work, done by someone else – It felt wise to play it safe and stay well away.

You’d expect then that it’d be with trepidation that i’d approach next week, but instead I find myself massively excited, not helped by friends “in the know” telling me it looks great and my faith in the director and the people producing the show. It’s dangerous as a writer letting people see and critique your work for the ego – but it’s an opportunity for me too I think, can i take whatever criticism is fired at me – and if I can take it how will it effect me – what will it motivate and start – how will it effect me in 1, 5, 10 years time. It makes you contemplate the future, what life is, what life could be and where one could find yourself.

So, go see it, tell me what you think, it’s on Friday 2nd & Saturday 3rd Dec at the Lantern Theatre in Liverpool.

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