Could you give me the directions to…?

Well, the wedding has been and gone.

I was such a fantastic day – and even though it wasn’t my mine, it was everything that I hoped it would be.

But as with every other big social occasion, when I left, I felt a huge sense of anti-climax.

There we all were, celebrating a huge occasion – something that is really going to change the couple’s life forever… And where was I going?

Home. Home again to the same old ‘same old’.

What was going to change?

My father once told me that I should always question the path that I was taking; because if you don’t, you going to end up where you are heading.

I spent the journey home thinking about my dreams and aspirations. I realised that they were things that I really desired and was willing to work towards. But then I had to be realistic with myself. What was I actually doing to make those dreams become a reality? When was the last time I sent off a script to a theatre/production company/agent? When did I last sit down and made a concerted effort to write?

Then it dawned on me: Entering Channel 4’s ‘The Play’s The Thing’ had been a huge mistake!

Not that my submission was a mistake, but my mindset has been wrong.

Now let me make it clear, the plays that I sent were and are more than worthy of production in the West End. But my mistake was my assumption that the organisers of the event would see that as clearly as me. I am a natural born oxymoron. I am an optimistic pessimist. I wouldn’t write if I thought that it wasn’t something that I could succeed at. But equally, I realise the difficulties for an ‘aspiring playwright’ to secure the financial and emotional backing that leads to a professional production. (I hate that term – I am a playwright! I’ve written plays! I’ve even had them produced. All I’m waiting on is a professional production, for someone to endorse what I already know – They are worth something.)

But with The Play’s The Thing, I made the fatal mistake of letting myself think that the producers would see that what I offered was new, exciting and would draw a new type of audience in through the box-office. I let myself think that I could win.

But then in the latter days of when the forum that is associated with the programme was actually employed, I realised that was not what the producers wanted. They call the programme ‘The Play’s The Thing’, but in reality it’s ‘The Audience Figures For Reality Television And The Associated Advertising And Syndication Income Is The Thing.’ This was never about the play – it is about the ‘misguided playwright in desperate need of support and redirection from the god-like professional gurus that run theatre in the UK’.

I let myself think that a TV programme would actually be interested in making theatre more appealing to the general public – and that they would see that my work could do that for them. But this is flawed in two respects: A television company would never want to promote theatre as a viable and accessible form of entertainment, as it would reduce their channel’s viewing figures. Second, they would never want someone that can write – who would want to watch a programme about a ‘natural play-writing talent’, when you can watch a series about a collection of wanabees being berated by professionals pointing out their errors?

Yeah, I know that I sound bitter. But my bitterness is fed by my naivety about what television is (and I should have learnt my lesson with Steve) and the fact that I was willing to sit back and wait for the win.

I got out of the habit of pitching my work anywhere other than on my site and on this blog. And I am realistic enough to realise that next to no-one comes here other than a few on-line mates (and I beat myself up with my webalizer).

I now realise that I have to get back into the habit again.

But why? What has it achieved? I still ‘dream’ of that professional production.

As Dad told me: “Question the path you are taking…’.

I need to find a new way to get someone I know (or more importantly, someone you know) on the stage delivering my lines.

I’ll keep thinking – but if you have any suggestions…

All men dream; but…

Yeah! I admit it. I’ve been bad at posting recently. In mitigation – I have been exceeding busy in recent weeks.

I wish I could say that I have been busy writing. But the truth is that I have been placed in that paranoiac state that plagues every non-professional writer suffers “The day job (that pays the mortgage) is getting in the way of my writing”.

Being in the Royal Navy, there are time that my service calls on me – and that’s what I signed up to do. I’ve been exceedingly lucky, having spent the vast majority of my service career ‘alongside’ (in a shore-based appointment for the non-naval of you). This has enabled me to develop my skills as a playwright as I have been able to write, and more importantly, attend rehearsals and productions.

But I was called upon to go to sea. And then I was called upon to go to sea again – at very short order.

This has forced me to feel guilt on so many respects: First, I haven’t been able to write (indeed I haven’t turned on my home computer for over a fortnight), I haven’t been able to finish my job of editing the anthology of shorts I intend to publish, I haven’t been able to contact my dear playwright friends that I want to set the new agency with, I haven’t been able to email my dearest and newest mate that I have been writing with in recent months.

But that is the nature of the service I am in. Once we are at sea, the public forget about us. Our families are forced to forget about us, else their day-to-day existence is destroyed. But our friends that are not in day-to-day contact with my service ask why we are ignoring them, feel rejected and justifiably make assumptions.

But myself - I torture myself. I have too many ideas in my head that need to be committed to paper and then performed on stage. My notepads are starting to overflow – I have at least five ideas that will make it to the point of finished stage plays - all developed in the last couple of weeks.

Yet, here I am – back on dry land and desperate to write, and I can’t! This weekend is going to special. One of my dearest friends is getting married. My family and I are intricately involved in this wedding – so we have to be there. But yet, my desire as a playwright wishes that I was at home alone writing my next potential West End Box Office Smash!

So, my apologies for the tardiness of my postings of late; sorry about the fact that there is next to nothing about my writing; sorry that there is no news about how I am pitching my plays; sorry that there is no news about future productions.

But this is the reality of this wannabe professional playwright.

I do dare to dream; but reality dares to intrude.

Flame Wars

I’ve said it before – writers are a strange breed. While we all share a common activity, that’s about where the similarities end.

There are all forms of politics and social agendas represented. There are egos to be pandered. There are delicate temperaments to be nursed.

The last week has been a time for all of these aspects to come to head and explode!

I mentioned some time ago that a group of like-minded playwrights and I were getting together to form a new business promoting new-writing. Over the last week several very heated exchanges have taken place. The majority of which would resolve themselves; as once you got past the language, you realised that the parties involved are just extremely passionate about making their element work.

But as it the way with playwrights (and I know that I am more than guilty of this) the option of compromise or changing position was not an option (after all, when you’re writing, you have to have control and never swerve to ensure the script gets finished).

But as I said, these debates would have been resolved in time.

But one argument broke out, that ended up with allegations being made. But worse than this, they then asked others to find evidence to back up these allegations.

I don’t mind admitting that if this had carried on for more than the couple of hours that they did – the entire project would have fallen over.

This caused two major painful hits. People did disappear off and look for the evidence – but it did not prove the accusers allegations, but moreover pointed out that they were either misinformed – or worse – lying. It’s not pleasant to have a community supposedly pulling toward a common goal have allegations of dishonesty that then transpire to be formed by the dishonest.

That may sound strong – but the alleger, did promise an apology if they were proven wrong. Needless to say, no such apology came.

The second pain was loosing another valued member in the fall out. I will admit that the language that was used was very close to the bone – tempers were blown and reputations were at stake (some of those reputations are the basis of their livelihood) so there was no water to pour on the flames.

One of the members saw all of this and elected to leave for good. This hurt. It more than hurt – it felt as though one of the good guys had been forced out because one individual wanted to discredit one of the major players.

All in all, it hasn’t been a good week. But, the result is that I am even more committed to make this project work.

Flame wars serve no purpose than to make people angry. But get this playwright angry – and he gets more determined!