Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Memory and the failings of …

Took five and a half hours, but now all the corrections, all the little cuts are now incorporated into the one script. Problems occurred towards the end when I realised I didn't have a copy of the final draft of one of the problematic scenes. Yes, indeed, problem. So I recreated it from memory. So therefore, I am going to work on that a bit this morning, cause the memory ain't what it used to be.

I also finished the first draft of a long monologue that I had been working on here and there for the last few weeks. It's a weird one, as if that differentiates it from anything else I do.

I'm also reading this which is fab, fab, fab. Go read it. Now.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Cleaning up

Today I'm doing something that I should have done oh about six weeks ago but better late than never and perhaps I needed this time to think about it all, even though I haven't thought about it much at all. Or … at all. One Cloud which finished at the end of November went through a million tiny rewrites and cuts through the rehearsal period. I have pieces of script lying everywhere and today is the day to put them all together into a nice, completed, ABSOLUTELY DONE script.

And then we are going to find a new home for it.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Update of short play list

Still so much to do, but:

List One

Short plays that need minor rewrite/tweaks.

  • Sugar
  • Normal is the Enemy now called The Enemy
  • Ordinary Tuesday
  • Night declared Day
  • Darkness Cut
  • Ignorance
  • Breath

List Two

Short Plays that need another complete draft

  • Love
  • Lost and Found
  • No Fish, No Father now called Couch
  • For the Defence – Butterfly Evans
  • Cut the Lime
  • Morning Millicent

List Three

Short Plays that need to be written or rewritten completely

  • New Coffee Shop Play
  • People, Places, Things
  • Dead Man Speaks half re-written
  • Marcus & Sally Play
  • In the Blood
  • Sauce
  • Breakfast with Others

 

A letter

Dear mega-chain bookstore,

Before I begin my rant, I understand that we have a troubled relationship. Perhaps I am to blame for that. I say nasty things about you behind your back, calling you names and the death of various things. I say these things and then I try and sneak in the back entrance and take advantage of your undercut prices and get a little thrill when you change the selection at the 3 for 2 display. But let us bare in mind that I don't do this without some sort of financial layout. In other words, mega-chain bookstore, I pay. Oh, and pay I do. One of your executives that has never read a book in his life is driving around in a BMW thanks to the money I fork out at your counters.

So maybe I expect a little something at this very festive, GIVING time of year. Maybe I expect you to reward us with a little bit of a POST-CHRISTMAS SALE! But oh no. No, you dirty rotten bastards, a cheap table at the back of the shop with some ripped cookbooks from the 70s with new and exciting recipes to make apple and waldorf salad does not constitute a sale.

I understand times are tough, there is a credit crisis on. I get that. What I don't understand is why we aren't solving this through the power of literature. Explain that mega-chain bookstore. Here you have a great opportunity to not only boost the coffers, thus ensuring the mortgage payments of the beach house, but populating the world with great books.

Just a thought.

And I'll see you next time you change the 3 for 2 display.

My idea of a perfect Christmas

Christmas, Christmas, Christmas.

This had to be one of the best Christmas's I've ever had. And the key ingredient – the absence of stress. The other half and I woke up whenever we wanted to, casually made coffee, casually opened our presents (well, I tried for casual but something about a Christmas tree and wrapped presents with my name on them never fails to turn me into a four year old child), and then spent the rest of the morning hanging out, reading my presents, having a bath, casually getting dressed.

Then, we walked the whole two minute walk to local pub/restaurant and ate and drank like kings for the next four hours while someone else served us and cleaned up after us. Returned, walking the whole two minutes back home , where we lazed on couch and did nothing much yet again.

Bliss. Every Christmas should be like this.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Blank paper

Further, to previous post, I have been writing screenplay at cash job in a notebook. It's small, so terribly small, but somehow has helped in the writing process. It got me to thinking, does what we write on affect what we write. The spiral notebook, which is 300 pages and so 600 pages double-sided is not so much blank paper to fill. I like this – so much so that I went out and bought five more of the things yesterday – because no matter how shit I feel, or how much I don't want to do this, I can coerce myself into it by saying well, it's only this much. And that's not much at all. You can fill that page. Look, you just did it. You did it without thinking, why not flip it over and fill the next one, and the next one. And yes, trust me, it really is that pathetic.

I don't know how it will all look when it's typed up and whatnot, but for now, I can honestly say, I'm nearly 600 pages down on my screenplay. Nice.

Other stuff

In other spectacularly exciting writing news, the screenplay is progressing nicely, which in case you are not up to date, is the thing I'm writing when I have nothing to do at work. Unfortunately, project had to be put on hold on Friday as work demanded that actual work be completed … Bastards.

Update

Another short play rewritten, which took three hours and about all of my patience, but No Fish, No Father is now Couch and seems to be less overly concerned with itself as a masterpiece of the short play form and instead simply tells a story. Hoorah! Only about 20 to go.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Things that happened today

  1. A taxi totally totalled a bike rider while I was sitting outside my cash job this morning summoning the courage to walk in and do nothing all day. He wasn't hurt although he screamed like he was. But he went totally off his nut at this taxi driver. Favourite line:

    "Sorry? You think sorry is going to cut it? You're delusional." Who comes up with delusional when they have been just been hit by a taxi?

  2. Buying dinner in the supermarket and suddenly a man in a black trench coat is led from aisle 9 (THE CHOCOLATE AISLE!!!) handcuffed by two police. Our poor criminal was then made to do the walk of shame through the whole shopping centre to the far exit. Favourite line from checkout chick: "What? Again?" I love where I live.

Well …

What is with me and plans? It's there, it's all neatly laid out in easy to follow bullet points and then somewhere between this is easy and let's go and do this, the plan goes to shit. Absolute shit. I am supposed to have three short plays down by now. I have one. ONE! And that still needs a final read-through. This sucks. This sucks major big time like right now bitches.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Lists

Short Plays

I've written a whole heap of short plays. Or, I should say, I've begun a whole heap of short plays. There's pages of dialogue everywhere with sticky notes on them saying things like "turn into 10 minute play" or "did I write this at some point for a ten minute play?" Deep down, I think I'm waiting for the writing fairy to come along when I'm sleeping and finish them off for me. But that fucking fairy is yet to turn up so I guess I have to do the work myself.

I've gone through all the viable 10 minute plays that need something done to them and divided them into three lists. Lists are good. Lists look like you know what you are doing, that you have a plan and things will turn out happy in the end. So …

List One

Short plays that need minor rewrite/tweaks.

  • Sugar
  • Normal is the Enemy
  • Ordinary Tuesday
  • Night declared Day
  • Darkness Cut
  • Ignorance
  • Breath

List Two

Short Plays that need another complete draft

  • Love
  • Lost and Found
  • No Fish, No Father
  • For the Defence – Butterfly Evans
  • Cut the Lime
  • Morning Millicent

List Three

Short Plays that need to be written or rewritten completely

  • New Coffee Shop Play
  • People, Places, Things
  • Dead Man Speaks
  • Marcus & Sally Play
  • In the Blood
  • Sauce
  • Breakfast with Others

My plan is to tackle at least one from one of the lists per day, and get them done and dusted and into the past.

Wish me luck.

What’s up?

My plan for the next little while is to do a series of posts regarding my experience with Australian theatre against what I have experienced working with American theatre. Biased? You bet, but it's my blog and I'll do what the fuck I want.

I don't know exactly what I'm going to write or if I can find a way to say something slightly intelligent but I think it's an important discussion to be having … if only with myself.

I'm also going to be posting a series of lists about where I'm up to with my work – more as a motivational tool. Basically I'm drowning in drafts. Especially of short plays that seem to take up more space than a short play ever should. And they are all in various states of disrepair. I've come to the conclusion that disrepair is not conducive to an active writing life. It's hard to get excited by something when you know you've got a hundred other things clamouring for a bit of attention, a bit of a rewrite, a bit of spit and polish. Clearing the decks people. That is what is going on around here.

In other news, I'm writing a screenplay. I'm about 40 pages (maybe a bit less) into it and I'm really starting to like it. It's all over the place but when isn't it? It's about a woman in her late 30s that tries to do something spectacular with her life. At the moment it's called Definitely Beautiful.

WTF

So you have one little play on and the whole world seems to stop as if it is dead. I don't know where I went or what happened to me but I didn't seem to have too much to say for the last little while. But fear not. Fear not indeed. She's back, and she's back with a vengeance.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Other things

In other news, the other play Good World that I went on a mad rewriting expedition about a month ago … well, I decided that I quite liked it the way it was. It's difficult, I know that, I know that it takes work and doesn't have the niceties attached that a 'well-made' play has but I came to the decision that that is the play it is. That's just what it is. Perhaps I'm wrong in that assumption but that's where I am now. So it's staying the way it is and I'm moving onto writing a new play … Bitter Pill that I'm trying to write in a month … God, what was I thinking. But I'm up to page 43 and while it's all over the place I'm starting to find my way with it.

As they say, onwards and upwards.

Hunger

Took myself off to cheap movies today and saw Hunger. Well … my god … what a film. It tells the story of the last six weeks in the life of Bobby Sands, the IRA fighter who went on a 66 day hunger strike that eventually took his life. It was something that was brutal and human and you wanted to turn away, I wanted to turn away, but it was there, it was everywhere. Go see this film, steady yourself and take the ride.

Back

All this play business has meant that nothing else has happened including blogging. But the play has opened! And therefore it's time to get back to my real life which doesn't include swanning about in theatre foyers and running around getting posters laminated and organising food for opening night.

Opening night was fantastic and the actors really 'popped'. They were on fire. We're still not getting huge audiences but hopefully it will pick up this week. One can only hope. I want everyone to see it. I'm really proud of it.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Update on the Epic

Last night I also made a list of all the things I need to do before opening night on the 13th. It's a very long list. It's an overwhelmingly long list. I've got my first radio interview on Monday, which will be interesting. Terrifying, but interesting. I hate talking about my work.

Up, Up and away

So I'm still making notes and trying to figure out what the hell to do with Good World. I think I've got somewhat of a clearer idea of what the hell I'm doing but who knows? I wrote a note to myself last night that said "I think this is the time of the writing of the play where things have to go slow." … It felt very profound when I wrote it.

Anyway, onwards and upwards as they say, and it's time to get back on the horse. I'm participating this year in this which starts today. I spent time last night roughly outlining a new full-length which has the working title of Bitter Pill. And now I'm starting to write it. At this point, we are at 3 pages. Not bad for about half an hour's work.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Horror

I'm in that horrible place.

It's muddy and dark.

You somehow find yourself there even though there is never a map. You somehow find yourself there but there is no map and so you can't find your way out.

I'm about two-thirds into this redraft and I'm starting to think that I'm fucking with what I had to start with. Fucking with what was alright and have now made it terrible instead of making it better. Making it good.

This is horrible, and I'm struggling hard to make it stop.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Bye Bye

Had my last rehearsal today and no one seemed very concerned that I was not coming back – probably a good sign that it was time to leave. So leave I have and now my focus turns to getting the word out there. I've got about 200 postcards to get out there so getting out is what I will have to do this week and next in between doing the rewrite for Good World. God, it all seems so much and all I want to do is go to bed.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

What’s up pussycat?

Finished at cash job and it looks like I'll be doing my real job next week which is quite an exciting prospect. So much so I had way too many glasses of wine last night and woke up this morning feeling like crap that had been fermented in a wine cask. AKA not pretty. Anyway I trudged up the road and got myself a plate of bacon and eggs and started a slow recovery.

Have been working feverishly on the new draft of Good World which I am hoping to get done and dusted in the next week. I am going to have to put the wine glass down in order to do it but people have made larger sacrifices in the name of art. In the new draft I haven't screwed with the structure too much but enough for it to be much cleaner and (hopefully shorter). I would like it to be around the 90 minute mark which is about 80 pages à in the current draft it's just over 100 pages. I have also got rid of one of the playing stages which was a bare space that served as various outside locations. I never liked it as it looked like a device I had just thrown in (which basically it was) so I've got rid of it and given the characters one space in which they don't leave until the end. That's all they get so they are just going to have to make do with that! I think it's going to give much more of a claustrophobic air to the whole thing which is exactly what it needs.

There's three characters in it - two sisters and a stranger. I'm going to keep the stranger outside for a lot longer – until the end of Act One. I think (hope) that it is going to build the tension of the whole piece.

So that's what I'm working on at the moment, as well as writing answers to email interview questions and baking brownies for my actors.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Update

Am back at the day job for a few days with nothing much to do all day so working on all the admin stuff I need to do which is cumulating at an alarming rate. Emails here, lists there, blah, blah, blah. But a real office environment seems to suit this except when I have to suddenly shut it all down and do real work. Thankfully, that doesn't happen much.

Things are progressing nicely with the epic which opens in three weeks exactly. This is both an exciting and terrifying prospect. I think the time when we all muck around and try stuff in rehearsals is quickly about to be replaced with "Nice. Now do it like this. Exactly like this." I'm off to my last rehearsal on Sunday where all questions will be answered, the script will be locked down, and then I can go and you know, continue with the emails and the lists. I say this like I hate it. I don't. This is exciting. This is very, very exciting.

Monday, October 20, 2008

What the fuck?

For some reason Blogger won't publish photos when I am writing this without signing in. Whatever. Let me tell you if you read the post about the postcard, trust me it is awesome. If you live in Melbourne, you will probably see them around. Come. Come and say hello. Come and buy me a drink. You know I want it, and perhaps even deserve it. Writing plays is hard.

Read this too

I'm also reading this and feeling very unproductive. I'm off to buy some of her plays. If her blog is anything to go by, this is one woman than needs to be read, produced, loved and adored. And her kid is the cutest thing in the world.

Go now and read

In case you haven't got to it yet, you should all go out and read The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. It's one of my fave reads of this year.

What’s with the no-show?

Oh, where have I been? I promise myself to be so good about this blogging thing. And when I'm doing it, I actually really like it. But then I don't do it. And I read blogs fanatically so I'm so into the whole blogging thing but just can't get into gear for my own. I'm sure that means something. I'm sure that shows insight into who I am and why I'm ridiculously unproductive but let's leave the psychology for someone else. This is supposed to be a theatre blog for fucks sake.

On that note, rehearsals for the epic are well under way and while there have been a few tough moments, it's actually going rather smoothly. The cast are fantastic – smart, good, hard-working and jumping into this with an enthusiasm I only expect from cult members. I'm so excited I could bust a lung. Seriously. I think it's going to be great. Either way it's happening and that's the most exciting thing in the world. I should stop praising myself … really, I should … anytime … soon. Promise.

I have spent the last couple of days getting the postcards done which look like this:


And I did it all myself. I know. I totally rock. I have a thing for doing my own images for plays. I didn't take the picture. That was the wonderful Marg Horwell who did all these amazing images. That's the lead, Kylie Trounson, in the picture. She's equally amazing. We are all amazing. Even the chocolate brownies I baked for rehearsals were amazing.

In other theatre news, I have been thinking about the other play, Good World, and have decided that while I thought I was done, I'm really not and there is a better play waiting for me to freakin write it. I spent three hours this morning just writing notes for it all and now I have to go write an outline. I have to go back to the cash job later this week so I'm going to write a plan of the new scenes so when I get home I can go "Right … scene blah blah and scene what the fuck tonight. Go!". I want to get it written rather quickly … because I want to enter it in this and win some money and get to New York. I really want to get to New York next year. And not just for a week. I want to go for like two months and just hang out. Be in New York. It's time. It's way past time. And I'm so going to win it … And there goes the praising myself. Little voice just piped up … Get your hand off it Murdoch. As if.

Perhaps we should turn this into a psychology blog.

Monday, October 13, 2008

I’m am so cool with what you are doing I’m practically an popsicle

Had another rehearsal yesterday and things are progressing very nicely. Only minor cuts to the script but there is still one scene that is bothering me. I'm starting to really enjoy these rehearsals. The actors are top-notch brilliant and they do all this weird stuff with my characters that for once don't make me think "Stop that. Stop that right now. You are physically hurting me with that crap you're going on with." Instead I'm all like you're cool, that is very cool, that not so cool but keep going. Director creature told me about what she's planning for the set and that is way, way cool and I'm so excited I could seriously bust a lung.

I still have one scene that is problematic and really should be taken out the back for a good spanking – which is what I'm going to do today. I also have a press release to fix up and then I'm off to see Tim Crouch's An Oak Tree tonight. Busy, busy, busy.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

What else?

Because of rehearsals there hasn't been a lot of time for anything else at the moment … or the desire to do anything else. But I'm hoping to change that today. I want to get a few more monologues done today, I want to bake some stuff for rehearsals tomorrow, and I want to get the mock-up of the flyer for One Cloud done. Oh, and I've got to get some research notes together for the actors because apparently I said I would. I also have to get the papers, do some washing, and clean my bathtub. I just looked it and it's gross.

Rehearsals

One Cloud kicked off its rehearsals on Wednesday in the most charming church hall I have ever seen. Only 5 out of the 7 actors could make it as well as the set designer. We had our first read through of the entire script and it was the first time I had heard this draft. It stood up remarkably well. So much so I went home and spent Thursday cutting 11 pages from the script. Yesterday we did 6 hours on two scenes which left my head hurting by the end of it. I'm really not a fan of rehearsals. I do really like sitting in a room writing these things. But, I soldier on. As I haven't spent a lot of time in rehearsal rooms I'm finding that the hardest thing is to just sit there and let them figure it out on their own and not saying, well, if you just read it right you will see that it's so completely different from what you are doing now and right now you are baby raping my poor play. I haven't done that. I've thought about doing that but I've swallowed the urge. Good little playwright.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Degrees of Slackness

Have not managed to get much writing done in the last few days … she says despairingly and with deep, heavy sighs. But as we all know this is rarely the case. Let's see.

Friday

Friday I wrote 17 pages on the children's play which is of course turning it into a children's epic and any poor child that was made to sit through it in its present form would see their childhood quietly slip away. However, am starting to actually get a grip on the story and while most of what I have written will get tossed to the gutter never to see the light of day, I do think I am getting very close to actually nailing this thing into place. First draft people. First draft.

Friday night I started a new short youth play which I got a couple of pages done on and am feeling quite happy about myself. It's a cute little piece, and while I promised to do a post on what is with all this youth stuff, I don't think I will. Let's just say that I am trying to diversify. Or make money. Or both.

I also made fabulous lists of all the things I have to do marketing wise for One Cloud. It made me feel all important and grown-up. Yet to cross anything off the list.

Saturday

Friday night best friend creature who has (we hope) temporarily moved interstate texted that she was flying down for the weekend and so Saturday morning had to clean up the house a bit so she didn't gasp in horror and run for the hills. But she was late and while I should have used the 45 minutes to write, I actually used it to read which was fab because I am trying to get the reading stats up. So slack. So very, very slack.

Late breakfast turned into shopping trip which then turned into me writing birthday invitations for best friend creature's mother and then it was six o'clock and then dinner had to happen and only managed to get out one youth monologue last night. Also slack.

Sunday

Slept in. Read papers, finished youth book, had bath, started new youth book, now it's half past three. Football final in a couple of hours (yes, another one) and then hopefully, some writing because after all, that's what I'm here to do. I'm going to try and finish the first draft of the grown-up play because you know, enough already. It's starting to circle for a landing. It's time to get out the mower and clear a strip for it.

I don't know what all this means. Slack, kind of slack, way too harsh on myself … you be the judge.

Onwards and upwards people … and go Melbourne Storm. I love you even if no one else does.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

While I’ve been gone

Have been a touch absent in the last few days but that does not mean that things have not been progressing nicely.

Monday

Have had quite the productive day … for a Monday. 16 more pages on the grown-up full length which is phenomenal in anyone's book and if it's not, then there is something severely wrong with you and we've always thought it. I did other things as well but that was the high point.

Tuesday

Had to be up and in the city by 8.15 to meet with the publicist that is doing publicity things for the play that's going up in November. She was remarkably pleasant, in fact down right lovely, which is unheard of in a publicist and I only embarrassed myself once when I had to try and EXPLAIN my play at 8.15 in the morning. The worst strangulation of the English language did of course ensue. However, I soldiered on and after our meeting and seriously the best raison toast I've ever had at this place, I went to the City Library and stocked up on youth novels – oh yeah, I was going to do a blog post on that wasn't I? Anyway, decided books were the message of the day and headed off to Dymocks and Borders and bought way too much but they were bargains so it's all evened itself out … that's the way it works right? Came home and finished The Biographer by Virginia Duigan which is very good and everyone should go out and buy a copy right now and then almost finished Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer which is great, great fun … so much so, I promptly fell asleep and napped for the next two hours. Bliss!

Wednesday

Up and at it quite early this morning which makes me feel tired and productive all at the same time. Have rewritten short play to send across the ocean where they will find me brilliant and earth-shattering and want to love me forever.

Other things to do today … cancel a wedding invitation – have been putting it off for two day, bad, bad, bad … get together some information for aforementioned publicist … send plays off across the ocean … other stuff. Best get to it.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

RIP

Oh, and Paul Newman. Bloody hell.

Problems … serious, serious problems

I've just realised something quite interesting about myself – the more productive I am, the less productive I feel. The more I do, the less I think I do. I don't know what this means … I mean, apart from needing some serious time in the self-help section of my local bookstore. Take this weekend for instance. I wrote, I cleaned up the house, I watched the grand final, I had sex, I applied for a Visa Debit card, I read and reviewed a play, I read about a hundred pages of a youth novel (don't ask – whole different post) and read two papers. This is not bad for a weekend as, technically, they are supposed to be restful periods. And, I still have the whole of Sunday night left. Seriously, what is wrong with me?

Friday, September 26, 2008

Strange

As expected yesterday was totally all about talking about myself and trying to plead without seeming to plead for 4 weeks by myself in the middle of nowhere. But I got it in smack bang on time and now we just forget about it and get on with the next thing. Today I have to type up the new short play and more pleading that it's almost as good as I thought it was when I was writing it … well, would you look at that? Flocks of flying sheep. I wonder what that means?

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Dear shiny thing in the corner

And just while I'm here … a note to my phone. What is with you? I paid good money for you. You were all shiny and sleek and provided a long list of attractive features. You said you could do things that no mere phone should be able to do. Why can't you let me answer the phone? Why can't you do the one fundamental thing that phones are supposed to do? Huh? Yeah … go cry in the corner. Make me a cup of coffee while you're over there.

Stuff, soldiers, yelling and screaming

I still have my cold. I've downed a gazillion cold and flu tablets by a significant name brand and can I just say this … It has not been as easy as the ads would have you believe to soldier on. Not easy at all. But soldier on I have people. Soldier on I have. Yesterday, I finished Act One of the grown up play which at the moment is called New Light Shine even though when I told the boyfriend creature he gave me one of those "you are hurting my brain with those crazy words. Please, please stop". He'll get over it … or have an aneurism. Either way, the title is staying for the time being.

Today I rewrote a short play which is now called Sugar … oh, stop with your damn whinging. They're my plays, I call them whatever I damn want. I'm pretty happy with it but that's because it's tucked up tight in my notebook and I haven't reread it or typed it up yet.

Have also been working on my application for Hedgebrook residency who make out like they hate me … mainly because they keep rejecting me but deep down I know they just don't know how to adequately show their love. It has to be postmarked by tomorrow so that's probably what I will be working on until I hand over the GDP of a not so small African country to send it to the ends of the earth, or some rural part of Washington.

I've also managed to get Good World out and about to various theatres and had one tiny bite so far which is quite impressive in my book.

Onwards and upwards people … I swear to god, I hear one more word out of you and I'm spending the night reading random words from my very big dictionary. And then I'm going to whack you with it.

Monday, September 22, 2008

A riddle

Answer me this.

I draw up a plan for things I want to accomplish in a day. I write them out, I get a little scared but manage to bully myself into thinking of course you can do this. Normal, every day people do much more than this every day. Get up off your arse Murdoch and get busy.

And then work I do. No problems here with the working but the day just seems to go south so quickly that all the things that were meant to be done are still just sitting there. Waiting. And while we are on the subject, why do all the things that need to be done have beady eyes and take long slow asthmatic breaths? Okay, maybe that's just me. Still …

However, today I got 12 pages of the grown-up full-length done. That was fine – took longer than I thought but that's all good. Words take as long as they take. I GET THAT!

But somehow it's 5.00 in the afternoon and not much else has been achieved. I've done a couple of submissions, I read a play, I went and did a couple of errands. Watch my day breathing its phlegmy breaths as it goes sailing out to sea.

Maybe I need a time management course. Maybe I need to read more self-help books. Maybe I need to stop, you know, flaffing about.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Left the building

Also, in late breaking news, there is no football god. I repeat, there is no football god. Pack away your shrines, blow out the incense candles, remove the word deity from the dictionary. My poor doggies – even if your coach wasn't, I was damn proud of you all.

Watch out

Also managed to do a read-through of Good World last night and realised it's nowhere near as bad as I thought. In fact it's pretty good. Made a couple of corrections and now it's done, done, done. So this morning it's typing up the rewrites and send, send, send. Time the world had this play … don't you think?

Friday, September 19, 2008

Rock on dogs

Day Five – my where did this week go? But while still hacking up phlegm on a regular basis, have managed to make quite the fist of the day. 14 pages on the children's play and 12 pages of notes and writing on a new ten minute play on nanotechnology. And it's only 3 o'clock. Rocking? You betcha. Even managed to write a whole dance sequence for the children's play. Not only that, but it was a pretty damn poignant dance scene. Full of subtext and physical meaning … well, believe that and you'd believe most things.

While writing my hand off, I have also managed to duck down to the shops and by supplies for the football tonight. I don't know if there is a football god, but if there is, please, please, please … show Geelong what being too cocky can do to your finals campaign. In any case, go Doggies!

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Prayer

Day three was a bit of a wipeout even though I got some research done and read a play. That's about all that happened. Have been struck down with yet another bout of flu which makes me the sickest person on the planet. What is with me getting the flu so much?

Anyway, still feeling like crap today but managed to drag myself out of my sick bed and write 11 pages on the new grown-up full-length. Which I should be dancing on the ceiling about but I fear that would just make me throw up. Oh, she's just so charming isn't she?

I've taken myself back to bed and will read some more plays and make some notes on stuff. And hopefully type up the rewrites on Good World – WHICH STILL HASN'T BEEN DONE! Slack doesn't even come close.

Please, wellness Gods, shine your magnificent light down on me.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Science Girl

Taking a break from the two plays this morning – because two days on the one thing is just so hard – god help me if I ever ant to write a novel. A couple of years? On the same thing? Go get fucked.

However, while it may look like I'm slacking off, I am actually doing some research on nanotechnology … as you do. At the moment it is incredibly confusing and yet I'm getting some ideas for a play … which is actually the whole point.

I'm also downloading a lot of plays for those young people which I'm telling myself I'm going to read.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Day Two

What was lacking in motivation (and trust me motivation had left the building some time during the night) was made up for in sheer tenacity. 11 pages on each of the plays later and some quality reading time and I'm feeling pretty good about myself. I've even gone and bought the papers today to do a little writing exercise I came across a while ago. It involves finding little paragraph stories (you know the ones that wrap a whole story in a paragraph) and turning it into a play. As I remember the writing exercise, you only have 15 minutes to outline the whole play. I thought it would be a good exercise for me as I tend to take forever to do anything when it comes to writing. I'll have a go and report back.

Monday, September 15, 2008

David Foster Wallace

Managed to eke out another twelve pages on the new full-length for the grown-up types. Yes, am sitting here thinking I am the hero of my own writing room. Wiped me out so much had to take a nap. Feel refreshed and brilliant now, as only someone who has written 24 pages in one day can. The day hit a crashing halt though just a few moments ago with the news that David Foster Wallace took his own life on Friday. This is devastating news and while I don't know any of the details, I think every writer on the planet today is thankful for what he left behind, are also very, very sad about what we will never have.

And we’re off

Day One has got off to a flying start. Woke up with quite the spring in my step even though it's miserably cold, wet and windy. But I didn't have to go and stand in the cold, wet and wind and wait for a crowded train. Yeah for me. Boo hoo to all those people that did. Kiss my ass suckers.

Made coffee, rugged up and went and sat at my desk. Pulled out notebook and found where I had left off with my children's play. Started writing. Things were tough going for the first few pages even though it all came back to me quite quickly. Oh yes, this character has this going on. That character wants that. Still, it's been about six weeks since I last did anything to it. I thought if I get 10 handwritten pages out, it's all slaps on the back and high-fives all round. Two and a half hours later, 12 pages done and dusted. I so totally rock I'm finding it hard to stop making out with myself.

Now, it's out to get some supplies and do something I really should have done on Friday and then it's back to get started on the other full-length.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

What’s next?

So along with everything else that has been neglected in the past 6 weeks while I dealt with cash job from hell, it's time to sprinkle some love and attention on my poor, neglected blog. I'm going to try something new in the next few weeks on this blog. From tomorrow morning I'm going to be trying to see just how much writing one slightly flu-ridden girl can achieve . We're talking quantity over quality here although a little quality won't be kicked out of bed for farting … if you get my drift. I have so many first drafts that need to be written in order to be able to submit for cool stuff that I would like to be a part of.

The plan is to get up each morning and just write. Write and write and write … you can see that I've thought this through to the last detail.

The two big priorities are a full length adult called Habits of the Love-Struck and a full-length children's play entitled … well, as I said, all the details have been nailed into place and nothing could possibly go wrong. I also have a couple of short plays I want to get done. I also have a lot of rewrites to get done. The well-organised plan is to do all the fresh writing in the morning hours, take a bath, do some reading and then spend the afternoons on rewrites. I mean, seriously, what could possibly go wrong?

I am going to try and blog about the experience. No, scrap that. I am going to blog about the experience. What's the point in having a blog if you can't whinge about perfect plans going down the toilet?

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Realism

However, and should mention this, the highlight of the week was seeing a stage reading of Paul Galloway's play Realism at the Arts Centre last week. Charming, hilarious, terrifying and most impressive, BIG. After struggling with a big play for the last couple of years, I have the most amount of sympathy for writers that take on large plays. 8 characters each who had their story to tell and did so quite convincingly. It's all set in The Great Terror and a small Russian theatre trying to put on a play to celebrate Stalin's 60th birthday. Cue the laughs. Bold, brilliant, messy and full of smashing ideas. Well done Paul.

Where the hell never ends

Blah. Another week goes by. This cash job is killing me. Sucking me dry. All I want to do at the end of the day is find my piece of couch and the bottom of a bottle of wine. Oh, the pain. Oh, the torture. Only one more week to go.

Didn't get anywhere near through my to do list last weekend. But did manage to get all the presents to the people they needed to go to and … well, that's about all. It seemed more impressive when I was doing it.

But another weekend approaches and it's almost a quarter through. Done nothing so far but I feel there is momentum still left in this old horse.

I want to get Good World done and dusted. Rewritten and then out into the world. I have too many unfinished things. I also have to get an application done for the play in November. And submissions. Time to get things out there.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

One more thing.

Must also mention that The Tall Man by Chloe Hooper is one of the best books I have read for a very long time. Go. Go now. Buy it. Read it. Tell me I'm wrong.

What’s next?

In other news from the No one really cares news department, had a great night last night venting to best friend creature about all that I've been through in the last month. Best friend creature is brilliant at nodding head and muttering sympathetically while whipping up a lasagne and chilling yet another bottle of wine. I pace up and down arms flailing and calling everyone moron, fuckwit and idiot that I have to work next to and if I could get away with it, shoot in the foot.

Anyway, feeling much calmer and full of purpose this Saturday morning.

THINGS I WANT TO DO THIS WEEKEND:

  • Type up rewrites of Good World that have sat there for about five weeks
  • Put out at least 5 submissions
  • Buy presents for M, C and father dearest.
  • Clean up shithole masquerading as my house.
  • Call M and tell her to have a GREAT birthday party
  • Have a bath.
  • Read.
  • Write something completely new.
  • Hang out, think about stuff.

Or, if I manage to get out of bed, that would be good too.

News wire

But in word from the good news department, the rehearsal draft is finished!!!!!!!!

AND,

Just in from the Unfuckingbelievable news department, the director likes it.

Well … shit.

Only took seven freakin drafts.

Phlegm witch

Well, she went into rewrite hell. And a cash job. And the worst chest infection a human has ever survived. All at once. At some point, I lost my grasp on who I actually was and grabbed the first personality that came my way. Unfortunately, that was some evil witch that was nearby and I've been living it up with that. And the coughing up of phlegm. Oh, there has been a lot of phlegm. And just when I thought it was all out, coughed up a huge blob this morning. I know. You're thinking, geez, I think we liked her much more when she was absent. Well … You know you want it. Or else why would you be here?

Hello? … Hello?

Oh, where did she go?

Monday, July 28, 2008

The Savages

Only managed to see The Savages which was well worth the trip out to Carlton and beyond. Bleak, funny, and Laura Linney's neurotic Wendy is all so beautifully, softly, subtly told. The story took its time. That was the thing that stood out for me. It didn't rush a moment, it didn't mind hanging around longer than "a good scene" should. It's something I'm going to think about for a really long time. Oh, and Philip Seymour Hoffman is a fucking genius.

Day off

Off to the movies today for cheap Monday – hoping to see The Savages and Happy Go Lucky. Or at least The Savages. There is that play that is waiting for me.

I think you kicked arse Cadel

We are trying to cope with the loss of Cadel to the second place podium. Like true Australians, we are blaming his team, his management, France, most of Europe and those stupid idiots that run out on the road and annoy the riders. Get off ya bastards – a man is trying to win the Tour de France here not be amused by your drunk dancing in the middle of the day. Idiots. Everyone has sent consolation messages to my other half who is not in the least despondent. Instead, he has turned to long didactic monologues on how emotion has no place in cycling. But we did really want Cadel to win. All the way in 09 has become our catchcry. I am trying to sing it without crying.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Snails

The snail pace continues. And it looks like I'm going back to evil cash job sometime next week which is doing my head in. I got the final dates and times for the play today and it's all so real and time to stop flaffing around and ink words into concrete and this really should have been done by now Shannon and what the hell have you been doing? Maybe I'm just one of those people that need a knife to their throat to start the words flowing. Even that doesn't seem to make them want to flow fast.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Boys in Lycra

When not sinking below water level on my play, I'm watching a lot of this. GO CADEL! The boyfriend creature is quite the bike freak – yes I share my house with two of them named Manfred and Bert – and slowly but surely he has made me quite addicted. He actually told me years ago that Cadel Evans was going to win the Tour de France. Of course, at that stage, I was like Who? The tour de what? Ah, those were the days. Actually, watching the peloton is a lot like watching fish. Very relaxing. Oh, and those boys don't look too bad in lycra.

HELP!

There is nothing more painful than this. I swear. You women and your childbirth stories can kiss my ass. Once this play is done, and god only knows when that will be, I am going to … well, probably sleep. The writing of this is so slow that I have had to remove all knives and other sharp objects in order not to draw some blood just to give myself some excitement. I AM LOSING THE PLOT! Actually, that's not true. The plot is fine and the play is working, it's just line by line. Seriously. After every line I need to take a break and think about what comes next. Not good. Not good at all. Only fame and fortune and I'm talking serious stratosphere fame and fortune will ever come close to just reward.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Struggle

Am struggling for every word in this new draft of One Cloud. It seems to be more 'accessible' whatever the hell that means and every character seems to be getting their day in the sun. I'm trying to get across the subterfuge of women against women, which is one of the themes of the play. How women bring themselves down more than any patriarchy could possibly conjure up (men just ain't that smart). But it's a struggle. I'm averaging about 10 pages a day which is pretty good but still, each word is felt somewhere deep and painful.

Monday, July 7, 2008

Navigating danger

I've figured out that the most important thing to do when planning a play is NOT TO WRITE. That's when the wheels fall off the wagon … And the wagon falls off the cliff and end up in a nasty fire with no survivors. After my dramaturgical session on Saturday (which was very, very good) I have more ideas than you can poke a stick at and I just want to write them . NO! STOP! DANGER AHEAD! Turn around and actually find out who is in the wagon and why they are there. So, at the moment, all I am doing is trying to figure out these characters down to their last toenail. Stella, the main character, wears blue toenail polish, in case you were wondering. During the session C came up with the idea that Pup, the one that turns quite nasty through the play, is actually quite a clumsy fellow who is quite weak and a failure in life. That's much better than he being this nice smart man that turns bad. Although there has to be hope that everything is going to turn out for the best or else there is going to be no point in watching the play. Hope, just like in life, is very important in a play. Wow. The truisms I come out with are quite astonishing. It also looks like a couple of characters are going to go by the wayside. I'm desperately trying to hold onto one of them and there still could be a place for her but we'll see how the planning goes.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Socks off

I've spent the last few days chilling with my thoughts. Getting ideas, thinking about new stuff, getting the imagination spinning and whizzing and doing its thing again. I've also been spending time taking notes and making plans for the next (and hopefully final draft) of One Cloud. I'm off this afternoon to get some feedback from the reader that didn't like one thing about it all. So, naturally, I'm taking many bottles of wine to get me through it.

Last night I worked on my children's play and got some great ideas for a new draft which opens it up and gives me more characters and more of a 'magical' feel. I know what that means. It's a good thing. You can trust me on that. I also wrote half of a monologue for a 16 year old girl, which was about as much fun as you can have with your clothes on. Can't wait to get back to it. But now it's off to pilates and then off to my feedback session and hopefully I get something to inspire me to write my socks off.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Lions and dogs

So, I decided to be an adult, and tell my reviewer that hated my play, that yes, I did want her feedback and I want to know why you think it sucks. Are you crazy or does this play actually suck? Once you think of the question, it becomes very important to know the answer.

I spent a lovely afternoon with new research for the play yesterday and a new notebook and the process began again. But I'm actually looking forward to it and think that it's going to be a better play for all the criticism and work … well, one can only hope, can't one? But I do have an all-encompassing feeling that this play WILL BE NAILED! Can't deny the passion there.

I also came up with the start of a plan for a new play which I think will be a long one-act. I see it around about the hour mark. It's a man and a woman, and a dog that has gone missing. I think the man killed the dog. I don't know why but I think he fed it to lions. He is a lion tamer after all. That makes sense right? But here's a question for you – would a dog put up any fight against a lion? It's going to have to be a big dog. I think I want the sounds of a fight in the background. It's a metaphor people. It's all one big metaphor.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Made it

With a whopping 90 minutes to spare I made my deadline for Good World. It's done. Out of sheer panic and time constrictions I came up with a final scene that actually draws one of the character's story together and shows the theme of the play. I know. Genius doesn't even come close. I don't think it's perfect yet but when is anything perfect? There are a couple of scenes at the end of Act One that need some polishing and tweaking. But polishing and tweaking I can do. That's the easy bit. Well, not really but I feel like I've slayed the dragon and now I just need to clean up the blood.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

48 hours

Act Two – done. Rewriting Act Two – not done. I have about 48 hours to get this play over the finish line. I remembered that I was doing the same thing with One Cloud last year – had to get it done by June 30. Nothing to do with the end of the financial year but that's when all the competitions start and whatnot. Funnily enough, that draft of One Cloud that I finished last year is the next thing on the list to be rewritten. Hopefully I won't be here next year about to rewrite Good World.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Update

Nothing happened with the grant. Nothing went wrong, and in fact it was one of the smoothest transitions from page to post office I've ever had. So that definitely means we have it … right?

Automatically assuming you all love me

I am going to finish this play today. I am, I am, I am. I think yesterday was one of the hardest writing days I've every had. The disparaging evil voices in my head were having some sort of wild and exotic party in my head to see who could come up with the cruellest insults they could. But I wrote through it. In fact I wrote a lot – about 20 handwritten pages. So take that evil voices. Kapow!

The reason for the frat party in my head was quite the feedback session on the play going up in November where a reader couldn't find one good thing to say about it. Not one. Not even that there were no typos. Or one line that was liked. Nothing. All of this is just ego stuff and one person's opinion is, well, just that. But here's another tip for the kiddies out there – never let anyone tell you that this job doesn't require you to have a massive ego that needs constant feeding. Actually, these moments are one of the few when men do it with more grace and dignity than most women can muster. Male writers are inbuilt with mechanisms that can toss off bad criticism and continue on with their lives scarcely skipping a beat. Is it a niceness thing? Women want to be liked and that insidious mechanism can stretch quite easily to their work. Men don't need to be liked. They automatically assume they are.

Today is my day for automatically assuming. Watch this space.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Grants

Finally got what we think will be the last grant application for the show going up in November DONE yesterday. It's all typed, we think we've answered all the questions, we've got all the bits and pieces so now I just have to print it out and pop it in the mail. Easy. Simple. Something will go wrong. Something always goes wrong with grants. The computer will explode. It will have lost the one document I need. The printer will run out of ink, it will too explode, it will suddenly have memory loss and not recognise its good friend the computer. The post office will be closed for an inexplicable public holiday, I'll fall over and break my ankle on my way there. Something will go wrong. Because that's what happens with grants. And there's no getting around it.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Oh, Snap

Well, yesterday, I finally snapped a tendon in the part of my brain that controls sanity and said ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. No more mid-life crisis, no more weirdness, no more being treated like crap. So I called it quits and said today is my last day. And thankfully someone took me seriously and that was that. Walked out at 5 and am not going back. He didn't even do anything so terrible yesterday. Except there was one phone call message asking if my phone was working and if I was 'hoarding' the phone messages. That was pretty much the moment when I heard the snap.

Oddly enough, I think that mid-life crisis guy might be the turning point. I feel as though I have a few weeks to make something happen. Maybe not actually happen but start the wheels in motion because these cash jobs are doing my head in.

Today though, while it would be nice to have a day off, I actually have to write a grant application so the director girl S is coming over and we're going to bang it out over lunch. I also am going to do some work on Act Two of Good World and check over a short play that I made some corrections to on the weekend. And then maybe I'll do some other stuff. Like go for a walk, do some thinking, get myself a plan.

Friday, June 20, 2008

The end my friends ... the end

This is the low point. This is the point where funny becomes sad and irony melts to show a core of pure tragedy.

Things have taken a turn for the worse with mid-life crisis guy who now has a new nickname that rhymes with duckhead.

This could be my last entry about he who has the nickname that rhymes with duckhead. I’ve sent an SOS to my temp agency to please god get me out of here. Yet to hear back but I’m not losing faith just yet. Faith is all I have left.

We’ve stopped talking to each other or looking in each other’s direction. There are no more inappropriate and slightly weird comments. In fact there is nothing at all but silence. Lots and lots of silence. Silent withering looks to the back of heads, evil, evil thoughts, a need to either get out of here or slit my wrists. We’re past the point of no return. I only have an 80 minutes until I get to go home. I have no idea whether I’m going to make it. I have no idea if either one of us is going to come out of it alive. I fear the worst.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

sloths

Today, I make sloths look good. Look productive, look as if they don’t swing from trees all day and contemplate not much at all. Today, last night, at the moment, I make swinging from trees look hyper-productive.

I always do this.

I get to a certain point in the day job and I just can’t do much more than get through the day. Nights are for couch sitting and admiring those that find the energy to swing from trees. And we dare to call them sloths? I’m so lazy they haven’t even invented a name for me yet. I have the need, I just don’t have the motivation.

And yet, I did the strangest thing a couple of nights ago. I came home from work, got changed, poured myself a glass of wine and sat in front of my bookshelf, pulling out and reading snippets from my university theatre textbooks. I don’t know why I did this. I have no idea why I had to do it at that very moment, but that’s what I did. And I want to do more of it, but I can’t even swing from trees. And, you know, I still have that play to finish.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

funny

I just typed the funniest sentence of dictation I have ever had to listen to - Some guy wrote that the building supervisor of his house “couldn’t supervise a crap out of his own arse”. No wonder mid-life crisis is suing the crap out of him.

about last night

Last night was a bit of a non-event writing wise. Exhausted after the day job which was particularly horrific, I headed for the wine bottle rather than a pen and paper. Mid life crisis lost a piece of paper that needed to be found oh you know, ten minutes ago please … what’s your name again? Makes me want to …

And now I’ve just heard that I have to get a really long grant application done and dusted by the end of the weekend. Life is cruel.

In happier news, I started a new play yesterday which I’m hoping is going to be somewhere around the twenty minute mark which I’ve just realised could possibly be good for a couple of opportunities coming up because technically it’s a two-hander but it’s not really … let’s keep that to ourselves shall we?

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Witches

There was a first for me last night. I feel like a virgin the morning after two bottles of passion pop and a testosterone-riddled boy. I too have entered into new territory. Unlike the passion-popped virgin, I could probably pretend it never happened and continue on with my life but now that I’m writing it … well, anyone for some passion pop?

So what’s my big news?

Well, I sent my first children’s play out into the deep, wide, unforgiving world to see if sinks or floats. No, wait, that’s witches. I’m not expecting much from this – it is my first children’s play and who gets their first play produced? Okay, crazy talented people who suck co- no, wait, that’s actors.

So, it’s out there. And hopefully, if I get my act together, it will go to a lot of other places and I’ll write more and people will want to put them on and children from everywhere will love, love, love me and then I will be complete.

No I won’t, but it sure would be nice.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Lazy buggers

It is so hard to pretend you are working when you’re really not. In fact, I think it takes more energy to not work than to actually work. I think there is something in that for all of us on this Monday morning.

Weekend

I was going to sit here and write that the weekend was not as productive as I wanted it to be. However, positive thinking is the call of the day, the week, the month. So I did pretty well. I spent Friday night getting the rest of the backstory into place and Saturday was spent pretty much flaffing around doing housework and whatnot. And then yesterday I spent about six hours getting Act One into some sort of shape. I didn’t get completely through it but I’m almost there and it’s not bad for about six hours work. Look at me being so nice to myself. I feel as if our little girl is finally growing up.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Slave

I've finaly worked out that mid-life crisis guy thinks my job is not to assist him but rather to run his life. I've figured this out because its painfully obvious that he has no idea how to run his life on his own. I had to remind him to do his banking this morning. Because he was in court all day and didn't have lunch and apparently was unable to walk into one of the 65 cafes between the court and work and buy himself one. Oh no, I had to call up the poor catering lady who is about 103 and a little wobbly on the legs and she had to go to one of the aforementioned cafes and buy him a damn sandwich. I also made his booking for dinner tonight and cancelled his booking for dinner on Saturday night. I'm here to type people. Seriously, I'm here to type. And file. I swear to God I'm this close to putting his profile up on an internet dating site. The guy needs a wife. Badly. Or at the very least, he could buy a slave. Oh hang on, technically I guess that's what I am. I should ask for a pay rise or emancipation.

Cover your eyes

Another weekend approaches – what did happen to this week?? – and yet again I have so much work to get done it will be a miracle if I make it back here by Monday with my sanity intact. These are the times I long to be one of the normal people who look forward to weekends so that they can have a rest. Have some fun. Do other stuff that isn’t work. But no, not me, not ever me, not even when I don’t have the cash job is that me. I’m a worker. I’m a non-stop worker. I work because I feel guilty if I don’t. It’s wrong, but that’s what I do. So … this weekend. Tonight I’m going to finish the backstories and whatnot. Then I’m going to use my new found information to rewrite the first act. I need to rewrite the whole first act tomorrow … Yes. Let’s all take a moment to ponder that. Of course, this is not going to happen because I also have to clean my disgusting pigswill house tomorrow. Let’s say that the rest of the weekend is going to be rewriting the first act. And then perhaps Sunday afternoon/Sunday night I can make a plan of what is going to happen in the Second Act which I have to start writing/rewriting come Monday. I need a working draft of the Second Act, typed, by the end of next weekend. Then I have a week to redraft the whole thing. This is the plan. Feel free to cover your eyes, we are now approaching the scary part.

Notice

what a good blogger I have become in the last few weeks. We could blame it on boredom at the cash job but ... well, okay, it's boredom at the cash job.

Rethink to rewrite

Started to pave a way through Leila’s backstory last night in my ongoing attempt to rethink the way I rewrite. I didn’t think I was doing much but the things that came out of it slowly but surely started to cement things in place. God is in the details and so is good subtext. I should copyright that. It’s horrible to say, but I’ve been cutting corners for too long without doing the nitty gritty, sometimes boring, frequently pointless on the surface, extra work. Playwriting takes up so much time as it is who wants to take more time? I got things to do people.

Oh, how wrong can one not so little girl be?

Very, it seems.

But there’s another point to this as well. That this kind of exploration into the deep murky pasts of characters has to be a very disciplined kind of adventure or else it quickly unravels and floats off into a different play and you find yourself getting way offcourse. This I find is what I usually do. Note … usually. Not this time people. Very strict guidelines with clearly marked signposts have been erected for this little exercise. There are certain things I need to know in order to flesh out this play. These are the only things I need to know. I love it when I’m harsh with myself.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Feeding Old Ladies Crap

I saw perhaps the worst first act of a play last night. It probably would have been the worst play but I left at interval. An almost decent night’s sleep was too much of a call from the wild to switch off my brain and make it through the whole things. I have ceased wondering why there were so many free tickets on offer for opening night.

And bad theatre is bad theatre. This I understand. Bad theatre is part of the package deal when you sign up as a theatre goer. But this is a whole different kettle of fish. This is firmly planted on a different planet in a different galaxy that not even NASA has any interest in.

This was a play by the most successful playwright in the country and this was a no expense spared production from the state’s flagship theatre company. You put these things together and I want more magic than even a fairy knows what to do with. I don’t want what I saw last night. Froth and bubble and jokes about gang rape. Plays about women who are lonely and in love with people they shouldn’t be. Clumsy women. What is it with men and clumsy women? Cute, clumsy women who are unlucky in love. And who have overbearing mothers. I swear to god, I almost choked on the bucketfuls of clichés we were forced to swallow in this ridiculous and pointless exercise. Because what happens to the clumsy woman? Oh she falls in love. Oh, the guy is married. But wait! Another guy appears on the scene that is just as clumsy as she is. But wait! Married guy’s wife has miraculously packed up shop and fled the scene. OH NO! What will clumsy girl do?

I am so angry at this play that I could choke it. I could seriously choke the life out of it. It would take all of two seconds. This play made my skin crawl with its lack. I laughed at one line, one line! and this thing was supposed to be a romantic comedy. Oh, the line was about tapas but it was more that my companion and I had started to angrily whisper at each other about how wrong this was, and then this line came out and we both laughed. But that was it. That was seriously it. We however were alone. People were not just laughing, they were guffawing. Seriously guffawing. Old ladies done up to the nines practically wetting themselves at the hilarity of it all. For a while I thought perhaps it was an old lady thing because who else can afford $75 bucks a ticket for this kind of stuff. But there were two lesbians next to me and lesbian in front of me and her father – ALL GUFFAWING! They laugh, I seethe.

Where is our David Hare? Where is our Caryl Churchill? Our Tony Kushner? Our David Mamet? Our Suzan Lori-Parks? This moronic exercise I had to sit through last night is apparently the work of our best. Our best? If that’s our best, then we need to pick up our ball and end the game right now. But of course it’s not. This is the best that we can feed to old ladies with too much disposable income. Mash it up so it has no texture or taste anymore and just shovel it in.

I’m sick to death of being disappointed by this theatre. I’m sick of all this money being thrown at it and the result only amuses the old and rich. This is not a sustainable mission. This will not do what theatre is supposed to do … how was I supposed to be enlightened by what I saw last night? How was that a mirror up to the society that I live in? What was it supposed to make me think? I have no answers to these question and no idea how to get them which makes me stop being angry and just makes me feel sad.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

cool kharma

Oh, and mid-life crisis guy remembered my name. If only I had a camera to capture the happy moment.

Baby steps

I’ve decided to be positive today. I’ve decided that mid-life crisis guy is not going to bother me today. And I’m not going to spend the day bored out of my skull.

I made a good start on the new rewriting process last night and found some interesting insights into the characters which I think is going to serve as the subtext fro the play. How fear is passed on from generation to generation. I pretty much got the backstory down for the father of the two sisters in the play and this will be explored through the first act. When everything changes at the end of act one so does the focus of the subtext. And then we learn about the mother. Interesting? One can only hope.

The next step is to work out the backstory for Leila and the incident that happened to her that places her at the point where the play begins. I know what happened, I just have to write it down. Work out the details.

Then it’s on to Frances and Stephen and what happened to them to get them to the same point. I’m hoping to have all this done in the next few days. I’m sorry? Did I just hear a whip being cracked?

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Ah ha!

Okay. Just proved that mid-life crisis guy is not actually deaf. Yes, that’s right. He is ignoring me. Because I spoke to him without using his name – yeah, two can play at this game – and he had his back to me, and he turned around and answered me. But he’s really good at ignoring me. As I said previously, not even a twitch. We’re back to the call so and so for me and then put them on the phone but there is only an hour left of this day. Of course there is tomorrow but people, please, let’s not even go there.

Just Finished

my Pitcairn book and wow, what a read. Has given me so many ideas for the play. I also spent some time with an old atlas last night checking it out on the maps. It really is in the middle of nowhere. With nothing but water, water and oh a bit more water to keep it company. My favourite thing is that there version of cabin fever is rock fever. Isn’t that a good name for a play? Rock Fever Nah, maybe not.

Unravelling the Mess

If you could see me right now, you would see one very pleased with herself kind of person. First act of Good World – done! I want to add some more things to that but that’s really all I managed to get done. But that’s what I wanted to get done and so that’s what got done. I also made corrections to a new 10 minute play which I know was going to get renamed but then didn’t. It might still but then again maybe the first thing was the best thing. That is hardly ever true but you never know. It’s still too long, about a page, but it’s getting there. One more go around rewrite circle and I think we might just have it.

You know, I wish that I was a person that didn’t have to rewrite so much. I know, writing is rewriting, I GET THAT, but I seem to rewrite more than most. I think I could get my output higher if I can work on my rewriting skills. I’ve hard many different approaches on how to tackle rewrites, all of them good, all of them differing. It might be worth some time to think about how I rewrite and how I can make that better. Better in the way of being more efficient. Efficiency being the aim of all writers trying to get away from people like mid-life crisis man.

New thing to annoy me about mid-life crisis guy. He doesn’t make his own phone calls. ‘Hey you (because he STILL can’t remember my freaking name) can you get me so and so on the phone?’ I don’t mind finding phone numbers but getting people on the phone? No. No, I draw the line there. Idiot. I cannot WAIT until I am out of this job. Couple more weeks, maybe two, I think two would be enough and then I will have enough money in the bank to get away from this madness.

I digress.

Rewriting. What I usually do in order to pen to paper or finger to laptop is just see where things are going. I don’t usually have a plan for a first draft because it’s a first draft – it’s supposed to be crap. Crap/first drafts I do really well. I have hundreds of them. It’s what happens next that really starts to do my head in. I’m trying to remember what I actually do. I have a clean typed copy. That’s always number one. And a good and hardy pen. I start reading and then I stop, usually a couple of lines in and begin rewriting. As I’m typing this, I realise quite clearly just how wrong that is. A blind person setting out on an unchartered path. The complications seem ghastly. So then how to do it? The problem with first drafts is that they have so much wrong with them but of course it is the aesthetics that jump out of you singing and dancing and looking hideous as they go about it. That’s the thing that I dive in and try to fix – clunky lines, bad lines, filler lines, when all of that is the stuff that should be fixed last … right? Stay with me here people, we may be getting somewhere. It’s the other things that should be tackled first – the characters, the motivations, the tone and structure of the piece. THIS IS WHAT I HAVE TO LEARN. It’s good that we are talking about this now. Okay, well, I’m the one talking about it and you great cyber ethereal you, is out there listening along. But it’s still great because what has to happen now … rewrites. Act One of Good World. Now. I had three weeks from yesterday to get this whole play into shape. So what first – characters, narrative, plot. One at a time? Which one first? These things are going to keep me up night after night after night … Character right? Character comes first. What are the characters doing? What do they want? What do they need? Why are they here? These are the questions, this perhaps is how to do it all, one at a time.

So we start with character. Each scene, what are they doing? Why are they there? What do they want from this scene? We will call this Step One. That is the job for tonight.

Monday, June 9, 2008

Change of Heart

Well - and this is predictable – I take it all back about Post Mao Café. The food was fantastic and we had the greatest time. We then went to a pub around the corner and had a drinking session and had even a greater time. And I didn't even get so drunk that I wrote myself off completely. Which is always nice. In fact this morning, I feel fantastic. Ready to get to work – which will be the final scene of Act One of Good World. Which was … let me think … oh yes, the plan for this weekend. First, just to get the muscles moving, I'm going to type up the rewrites for a ten minute play and hopefully that will be another thing DONE! Cross it off the list – of course there is a list – and move onto the next thing. The list is very, very long. I almost wrote the list is very, very wrong. Which it most likely is.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Paradise has left the building

I'm also reading the most fascinating book that everyone should read. It's giving me all good ideas for the rewrite of One Cloud which is definitely going to start come July 1.

Legs and plays

Well, last night, I managed to get my act together and get SOME STUFF DONE! I now have four beautiful scenes for Good World which I know doesn't sound like much but actually comes to 37 pages. That sounds like a lot more doesn't it? Yes, well … I figure I only have one more scene and then I have ACT ONE! The excitement is palpable, there's a buzz in the air, there's an feeling of … things are going to get accomplished!

I also read about the best article on playwriting ever – read it NOW! and tell me I am wrong. See, told you I wasn't.

Today is pretty myself up and go out to lunch to a hideous place called Post Mao Café. Well, it was hideous the last time I was there so I'm not expecting anything this time around. Perhaps I'll come home singing loud songs of praise about the place but I'm not holding my breath. But this is what I do for the people that I love and my friend Fraser fits very squarely into that category. So I've dyed my hair and I'm about to pluck my eyebrows and shave my legs and scrub myself clean and go and have a good time. Because that's what we do with people we love.

 

Saturday, June 7, 2008

Life sans pod

Oh, it feels good not being in a pod. Learnt an interesting detail about mid-life crisis guy yesterday. I think he's deaf. Or at least he's deaf to my dulcet tones. I'm barely three metres away from him but if I call out to him, nothing, not even a twitch. For a while I thought he was just ignoring me but not even a twitch? The guy is actually getting more interesting. No, no, say it isn't true.

Last night I got off to a good start on rewrites for Good World. Totally rewrote scene three and most of scene four, okay, some of scene four. Scene three now totally rocks. It's much better and no longer just a filler scene which it kind of felt like up until last night.

However, this morning has been a slow, rambling start. Basically I've bought some toilet paper. That's been about it. And found a recipe for chilli con carne which I'm going to make tonight. I also managed to waste about an hour and a half in Kmart buying three things. I now have about two hours to do about six hours worth of work. Can she do it? Can she really do it?

Friday, June 6, 2008

Long Weekend

A long weekend approaches and the prospect of actually getting some real writing done. I keep telling myself I only have like three weeks to get my full-length Good World rewritten so that I can enter it into a number of competitions and whatnot. Telling myself this doesn’t actually seem to get me to sit down and do it so I’m thinking I may have to start threatening myself with violence.

I also have to type up the corrections to a short play which at the moment is called Just Over There but I have a feeling by the end of the weekend will either be called Vengeance or Wrath. Makes it a little more hardass, which is essential for all good short plays.

For all this to happen, as well as housework and a lazy Sunday afternoon drink session, it means it will have to start the moment I get home tonight. Which is a shame. I love my Friday nights. I put some music on, I open a bottle of wine, and I dance, dance, dance. Seriously. It’s not as wacky as it sounds. Nothing like a good dance session to flick the stresses of the week out the window and forget for a moment that life is not as great as you want it to be.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Wimp

I know what you’re all going to say and perhaps, just perhaps, you are correct but that is, unfortunately, not going to change it. Even though I did buy the new printer cartridge along with some lovely stationery at cheap, cheap prices, this residency application is not going to happen. Not only is it going to cost me about $100 (and no, I’m not exaggerating) but I think it’s going to take more than a night to get this letter into some sort of shape. There is only one thing worse than not applying and that’s applying with crap.

Don't Plan Without Me

“Planning day” is yet to begin. It was supposed to begin 5 minutes ago but all the lawyers are still feverishly writing things down and engaging in serious, intense conversations with each other. It’s sad really. There’s probably a very expensive and very lovely feast waiting for them in some posh conference room in some posh hotel. But no, there’s no stampede, there’s not even a certain stirring as they gather up their “planning materials” and gravitate towards the door. See, that’s the difference between artists and lawyers. You say free meal and booze to match, tether yourself to something sturdy as the running of the bulls would have nothing on the thumping hordes of artists racing towards some biscuits and cheese. In fact, artists are wonderfully adept at time management. No meetings, and then dinner, and then drinks. Whack it all together people, pass the wine and what do you think our marketing strategy should be?

They’re still here. Someone called out 10 minutes about 5 minutes ago but it only seemed to make them all hunch their shoulders and work harder. I haven’t heard the dum di dum of computers being shut down or last minute instructions on what to do if an emergency crops up – if so and so rings, call me on my mobile immediately and get a judge on standby. I’ve heard those instructions about seven trillion times – know how many times I’ve had to get a judge on standby. That’s right. Zilch. Lawyers usually say this in loud and booming tones, making sure that their boss and their boss’s boss hear it in clear tones and hopefully will take the young tacker aside and call him Superman or Iron Man or Beast or Take No Prisoners Guy or Hit Em Where It Hurts Guy or Brutus (all lawyers think that Brutus is misunderstood. A guy has to do what a guy has to do and if someone hadn’t ratted on him, you know that Caesar would be nothing but a footnote in history because Brutus was the man dude. THE MAN!)

All is still silent on the western front. My mid-life crisis lawyer has two computers which I can’t help but think is greedy and begs the question – how much information on a screen(s) can your brain take in? These are the things I’m left to ponder.

Mid-life crisis guy still can’t remember my name. He just turned to me, opened his mouth and then turned away. My name is on my security pass which is hanging around my neck. He has a post-it with my name stuck to one of his computer screens. I send him emails ever 5 seconds with MY NAME on them. When he calls me I say my name. Seriously, I’m thinking of tattooing his knuckles.

Okay, it’s now 23 minutes since planning day was supposed to start. And it’s sucking all of my energy to look focussed and interested in my work when really I’m just blogging. Blogging and blogging. Mid-life crisis just asked me to show him how to save a document. Seriously. The guy charges out at $500 an hour. I get $26. Kiddies, never let anyone tell you the world is fair. Oh, and he didn’t call me by name.

25 minutes and counting. If my ears aren’t playing tricks on me, I can hear some movement down the other end of the department. I don’t know whether they are let’s get this show on the road stirrings or all of this has to be done before anyone can get to the food. I can feel my shoulders sagging and my love of life evaporating. I just heard the word ‘go’ but … oh wait! I see a lawyer with his bag standing in the corridor. Mid-life crisis is impervious to such subtle suggesting. They will have to go in and drag him out. Lawyer with bag is one of the young ones too. What he thinks, says or does is worth less than what I think, say or do. I can save a document. I’m worth more than he will ever. He might as well stay back here with us. We could teach him to save a document and increase his value. We could order in a Nandos party pack and make a celebration out of it.

Okay, lawyers are now leaving. Rushing out the door like they do for court or other important events. Don’t start the planning without me! Mid-life crisis ploughs on in his office. We are now at the 37 minute mark. At the 40 minute mark I’m creating a diversion and sneaking out.

40 minutes on the dot and he is gone. I feel strangely nostalgic for the times we had together.

Asbestos Jokes

http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2008/06/03/1212258817639.html

This story is tickling my funny bone at the moment, especially the part about him being a chain smoker. I don’t know why I find that so funny but I do. I really, really do.

Dilemma

Well, not really a dilemma. More of a is this worth the effort? Which is, I guess, a kind of dilemma. I have approximately 24hours in which to get an application for a residency in the US together. These are always complicated arrangements where they require small vials of your unborn child’s blood so that you can sign a complicated agreement that you will sing their praises for the rest of your natural born life and perhaps a compliment or two when you shuffle off this mortal coil. Also you have to write a letter. This is the first time I’ve come across this for a residency although an attempt to go to graduate school in the US was I’m sure thwarted by the fact I couldn’t write a good enough letter.

I can’t quite put my finger on it but there is something incredibly wrong about it. And suspicious.

1. Who writes letters anymore?
2. There’s something ‘begging for attention’ about the whole thing.
3. It’s trying to hide what it is – a blatant attempt to convince the dear reader of my letter thatI am more worthy than all those other letters on the pile.
4. It’s not even a real letter – it doesn’t begin with Dear bloke with big house and friend to artistic types and I’m not signing it off – love and kisses, your darling writer – S

If I ever have the cash to open an artist’s residency (oh, the dreams) I’m going to make hopefuls be way more blatant in their attempt to woo me. You have to grovel so let me see the grovelling. On your hands and knees boys and girls. Whoa – this posting is going off in directions neither you or I saw.

Anyway, I’ve made a kind of rough draft of what my project is going to be (which will form part of the letter) but then there’s the bit that always trips me up – how will you contribute to the community at [insert name of rich muckety-muck’s palatial artistic extravaganza]. I don’t know. I’ll probably sit in my room all day playing with words which will exhaust me to the point of a coma. I will then stumble into the kitchen whereby I will crash tackle anyone who reaches for the wine bottle. I will then proceed to drink copiously from aforementioned wine bottle whereby I will entertain and horrify all with lurid stories from my misspent youth. How does that sound dude? You up for a bit of that?

The mid-life crisis at the cash job is off on a “planning day” this afternoon with the other lawyers. No, I have no idea what it is either. I’m sure this guy would know. But he seems to have enough on his plate. While I’m supposed to be doing filing (how many pieces of paper can one not very busy man produce?) I could work on this letter thing. I will also have to go and get a new printer cartridge because I just know that at midnight when I’m trying to print out everything it will run out of ink. And then there’s a whole online thing that I have to do. Okay, now I’m just sounding like a whingey little princess, aren’t I? Just freaking do it. Me and Nike have a lot in common.

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Halt

With the menace of the cash job comes the slowing to the halt of real work. I've managed to do oh just about nothing on anything. A couple of pages of rewrites on Good World and last night a rewrite of a 10 minute play … in a week. Pathetic. Oh, the self-loathing is alive, well and happily residing on my shoulder. Everything sucks. Yes, it does. No, I'm not being petulant. No, I'm not. Oh, fuck off, all of you.

INKY

Saw a great play on Friday night … INKY by Rinnie Groff, who after checking her out on Doollee is one of those horrible prolific writers who make me want to slap myself around a bit and scream LAZY BASTARD in the mirror a couple of thousand times. But, apart from that, this is a great little three hander that is quirky, dark, funny and was very well acted and directed. So, if you are in Melbourne check it out before it closes next weekend.

Whinge

Back at the cash job and hating every second of it. Why, oh why, do I always get the most fucked up, disorganised, idiots to work for? … Who treat you like slaves … Who couldn't care less if you spontaneously combusted right there in front of them and would have someone else sitting at your desk before they had cleaned up your entrails? I hate this cash job business. I have to do something, a lot of things, to get rid of it for good. I am not a nice person, a productive human being, or an asset to the world when there is a cash job in my life. There has to be a way to make a living from writing plays. Other people do this … right?

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Wash up

So the wash-up for the week was – finished rewrite of Chalk St Express which is now called Small Choices from a 10 minute to a 30 minute one-act, and sent it off to six places in the good ol USA. Rewrote King for a Day and managed to cut it in half so it is actually a 10 minute play – yet to find a good place to send it to but it's there and waiting. Also got the first two scenes – 24 pages – of Good World into some sort of shape. Still have to do the synopsis and cover letter which I have been conspicuously shoving to the bottom of the to-do pile. On Friday night I started going through the DG Directory and finding places to send it to. It became so overwhelming that I got drunk instead and so yesterday was a bit of a couch day. But the good thing was that I didn't feel bad about it. I had a good week of work, I was quite happy to have a day off – is this how the normal people live their lives?

Today, being Sunday, is weekly, write what you want day. Start something new, write the thing that has been on the backburner , etc. I'm actually quite looking forward to it. I'm going to get dressed up (or just get out of my pjs) and create a kinda party atmosphere. Will let you know how it goes.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Small choices

Finished Chalk St Express at about 2.00 yesterday. It's now called Small Choices which seems to fit it a bit better. Came in around the half hour mark which was perfect – couldn't have done it better. In the last few days I've been doing something with scripts that I've known all along but never get around to - READING IT OUT LOUD! Well, dah I hear you say. Yes, dah, indeed. Talk about catching all the mistakes, the little things that the eye always misses. And, all the double up and extra explanation that I seem to do with such ease – really have to work on that. So, if you live near me and you hear me screaming like a maniac you'll know it's just me hanging out with my fiction. I also sent Small Choices off to five other places. Write and submit, write and submit. Words to live by people.

Today it's back to the second scene of Good World and the rewrites of my short children's play King for a Day. I hope to have both done by the weekend.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Mad woman works

When I'm not sleeping, I'm working like a mad woman. I got the first scene of Good World down and while I haven't read it in a couple of days, of course it's perfect and wonderful and the best thing I've ever done. I'm also feverishly working on a one-act play to finish by tomorrow to send off for yet another competition. It's called Chalk St Express. I originally wrote it as a ten-minute play but it kept wanting to be more and as much as I tried to beat it into submission, it would do nothing but laugh at me. So now, I'm letting it have its wanton way and be as long as it wants to be, as long as it's not over 40 minutes. I'm hoping to get it about 30 minutes. There are a lot of monologues in it which I'm trying to stop. I have it hard wired into my brain by god knows who that lots of monologues are a lazy attempt to get exposition across. Anyone else been told this?

I battle on.

The devil sleeper

I'm sleeping a lot at the moment. I don't know why but anything under about 9 hours and I'm not having a bit of it. I came from non-sleepers. Both my parents spent a good couple of decades not getting more than 4 hours of sleep. Sleepers were only a small notch about the devil. Yes, I'm feeling dirty but in a good, well-rested way.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

The minutes of life

So yesterday I managed to rewrite nine pages of Good World and I think the changes are better, adding a dream sequence when Leila and Frances were children and setting this world that they are in now. I want to get the first 20 pages nailed and then start sending it out to theatre companies. Force myself to get the rest of it done if someone wants to look at it. That's the goal for today before heading off to the pub with the other half for date night. Date night. God bless me and my antiquated ways. God bless me full stop.

I'm also reading Michael Cunningham's Specimen Days. I'm on the second story and am still a bit iffy about it. I admire the ambition but am not quite sure that he has pulled it off. Again, wait and see. I feel dirty saying anything bad about Michael Cunningham. The Hours is one of my favourite books and I read it at a time when I needed a story about women and their struggles in the world. I've now read it about five times and get something new from it every time. So I'm hoping I'll get to the end of the new one (which is actually not so new ) and be blown away by it all. A girl can dream can't she?

I'm finding it very difficult to fit everything into a day here. It's amazing how when I take away life from the equation, all the minutes that are taken up doing life things – cleaning, thinking about cleaning, going to the shops, buying birthday presents, cleaning up after other half, sorting out stuff, finding space for stuff, thinking about what I should actually be doing instead of all the life things and the day is gone before I know it. I don't know how to change this but at least I know it is a problem.

First 20 pages. Go, go, go

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Desk calls butt

Still have not managed to get my butt on a chair at my desk but just had the most delightful couple of hours picking out stationery for my best friend's birthday which is today. I have about an hour and a half before I'm meeting her for lunch. To the desk Murdoch. To the desk.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Wash up

I am back now in the land of the living and re-entry has been manic. I came from the lovely ocean on Sunday night and I walked into my house and it all looked wrong. It looked like a miniature version of my house. I don't know how else to explain it. I spent a couple of minutes going 'Oh this is my kitchen, this is my coffee table, oh look, there is my boyfriend' but now I seem to be on this active kick. I can't stop moving. Which is not good for the writing. Need to get it out of my system and get back to the desk because time is tick-tocking away and oh my god … is it already May? Time to get moving along.

The washup from the mini-retreat was about 80 pages of the new screenplay and thus a finished first draft, about 30 pages of the new children's play, about 20 pages of a new play called The Twist of the Grave, a new 10 minute play called Morning Millicent, 4 books read and I lost about 7 kilos. Not bad? You betcha. Have to go and see about 25 theatre shows in the next few weeks and I have to think about returning to the day job. My lordy, good thing I am feeling so active.