Waiting II

I started in Theatre the wrong way. When I was young (about 11 I guess) I realised that I had a talent for acting. Not that I had been in any school plays or anything, but I realised that I could get people to believe I was feeling something when I wasn’t. Sound mercenary? Natural born liar? Nope! Bullied… It was one way of avoiding a beating.

I decided that I should do something with this talent – so I phoned the Citizen’s Advice Bureau (not bad for an 11-year-old) and asked for details about amateur dramatic groups.

I was somewhat stunned by the response. I was told to look for something else to fill my time – theatre was no place for the young!

When in my late 20s, my boss pointed out that it would be “A very good idea if you helped the theatre group out’ – and seeing as his wife was a rather significant member of the club, I reluctantly agreed. I became the Props Manager, not knowing what tabs, stage right or downstage meant. I had a blast (it was a panto after all). When asked to get involved with the next production, I offered my newly gained skills as props manager.

I turned up at the ‘Production Meeting’ and was passed a musical score and ordered to sing! Don’t ask me why, but I ended up singing – I knew this wasn’t the job of a props master, but I did it anyway, rather than lose face.

Two days later I received a phone call: “Jay, I’m delighted to offer you the role of Miles Glorious”. That was it. Full theatrical addiction was only two performances away.

I enjoyed my time as an amateur actor. I didn’t want anything more.

Then I moved and found that my new local didn’t have a theatre club. So, after press-ganging a couple of friends, I started my own club. We had a theatre, but there were no flats and no actors (I had lighting and sound gear, and people to operate it). So what were we to put on?

One evening, my friend Peter Trott suggested that I should try and write something that didn’t use too many actors, but would require a set that we could re-use in other productions. I laughed this off – but Peter knew that I used to be a journalist, so must have some writing ability.

Eventually, I committed pen to paper and wrote Prime Directive (Obsession). It was purely a play to start a club up… Then after the performance, seeing as it was entered into a festival, the adjudicator took me to one side and explained its “mass commercial potential”. I looked over the script again and realised that this was a play that I would be willing to pay to see.

I instantly posted the manuscript to the biggest theatrical agent in the country and started dreaming about being the new Willy Russell or Tom Stoppard.

Needless to say, I received a rejection. But, thankfully, it wasn’t a form rejection; the agent had been kind enough to write me an individual response, asking me to forward him future plays.

Now four plays down the line, and more rejections (both form and personal) than I care to recount, the only things that have changed are my attitude toward acting, my professionalism toward writing and my steadfast desire to make playwrighting my full-time profession.

At least I am now a little more realistic. I am the first to admit that I have no chance of securing an agent – at least, not until I gain a professional production (cue chicken and egg argument).
There are four ways of gaining professional status as a playwright in the UK market:

1. Get a theatrical agent
2. Gain a professional production
3. Pay for a professional production
4. Win a competition

Now, in the commercial market, unless you are a celebrity, you aren’t going to get (1) as there is too much financial risk with an unknown playwright. In the main, the same is true of (2). (3) is the route a lot of people go down (and the Edinburgh Fringe Festival is an excellent place to accomplish it) but being a family man, I don’t have the spare cash for this. And as for (4), these competitions are few and far between – so you can enter, but a heck of a lot of other people will as well… Being conservative about it, your odds are about 1:20000.

Not a lot of potential for my dream to become reality then…

This is where you have to start playing (2).

If I were to walk into the London Old Vic with a copy of Mark of a Gentleman under my arm, saying “Here’s your next award winning play”, I had better make sure I’m wearing my elbow and knee pads. But if Tom Stoppard were to turn around to a big-time director and say “I’ve just read this play by Jay Saunders and I think it could be something you’re interested in” then I might stand a better chance.

And that’s my current route at (2). Making contacts.

I’ve Rambled before about the contacts I’ve tried at… I’ve been mentioned to Cameron Mackintosh, I’ve chatted with Terry Practhett and his playwright Stephen Briggs… But nothing has come of it.

The last two I made were a little more realistic (code for lower on the food chain): One a regional theatre director, the other an off-west-end playwright. I Rambled before about how it was painful awaiting their responses.

So what have I heard…? A big fat nothing.

One sent me an email a while ago, saying that I was on his reading list for the weekend. The next I heard, he was off travelling the world, occasionally returning home. And I’ve not heard anything from him since his ‘weekend reading list’ email. (Jay – time to decode this message! He doesn’t like it!). The other… Nada! Nothing! Nout! (Jay – read the last bracketed section).

It’s at times like these that it’s easy to get despondent. I may not be a professional, but I am a playwright. I have been asked to look at a number of plays for people – and without fail, I have passed back my comments. If it’s taking me longer than I had envisaged, I let them know.

And hence the despondency. I wrongly expect people to behave the way I do – and I say wrongly, because (as they haven’t emailed me) I haven’t the faintest idea what's going on in their lives.
I hate the waiting. So I’ve given up. I’ve contacted them and don’t expect to hear anything more from them. If I do, it’s a bonus.

I suppose the thing to do is see if I can find some new contacts!

If you’ve got any ideas, please pass them on…