progress

I heard back from the Newstages Committee. They were sympathetic to my workload and rather than producing a full script at the beginning of December they'll be happy for me to present a project plan. I'm really pleased that they haven't rejected 'The Elephant in the Room Trilogy' by default just because i don't have a script yet. Standards and expectations seem very high and i suspect the Committee are being quite ruthless in their selection and rejection of work.

I am also contributing to the Newstages festival as part of a project called 'Herstory' and this week i have done a lot of work on the text for this piece. The text has been put together from a statement of a real life experience and my task was to shape and order the text into a ten minute monologue. Having two thousand words of statement to work with is a much more comfortable starting point than a blank page/screen and an imagination full of incoherent ideas. It has been really satisfying to get the monologue to a stage where i can consider it a job well done and a task crossed off my extensive 'to do' list (and four days before deadline too!). More work will be needed on the text once the performers have been cast and rehearsals have begun and i will be involved in this process, but for now I can move onto the other things i have to do.

So, my next task is to develop a five thousand word portfolio which will be assessed for my MA. I already have the beginnings of three short stories and i'm going to continue working on these and select the best for the portfolio. Over the next three days however, I'm going to start really shaping up 'The Elephant in the Room Trilogy' so that i'm prepared when the Committee get back in touch regarding my project plan. What would be really wonderful is if I could get one or two of the trilogy drafted up to submit as part of my portfolio. It is possible that my trilogy won't be 'right' to satisfy the assessment critera as the module is all about story and the trilogy's emphasis might be elsewhere. We'll see how the writing goes...

I have put out a call for interest for the trilogy. I haven't gone into detail in my call, just said i was looking for performers and creative /team on a small scale Theatre project in Leeds. I've had a good response which is very encouraging. I've only heard from one male performer! I don't know why but I often write male characters so this is not ideal. More searching required on the men front I think.

I have noticed a significant increase in the number of people coming reading my blog. Thank you for popping in. Do feel free to leave a comment or to send me an email.

Posted via email from northerncreative's posterous

project proposal

I have put a proposal in to the Newstages 2010 Committee.

Newstages 2010 is a festival that takes place at the School of Performance and Cultural Industries at the University of Leeds. This is where i am a part time MA Student studying 'Writing for Performance and Publication' in my second (and final) year. Last year one of my pieces of work 'Antithesis' was in the Newstages 2009 festival, details of which can be found here. 

'Antithesis' had been put together and had already been performed as part of the Midget Gems tour in September/October 2008 so it was all ready to go when it came to Newstages. All we needed to do was have a few rehearsals and adjust to the new space and the performance was back up to speed. The Committee enthusiastically accepted my proposal last year and it was great to have an opportunity to show this work.

This year it's different. I had hoped that over the summer period in between year one and this year that i'd have time to get started on another project, but when summer came i really needed a break I had experienced considerable ill health and needed to recover so i decided to conserve my energy. I am feeling well again and i can see that this was the right thing to do but now i'm in the position where i'm making a proposal to the Committee but the work is yet to be written let alone rehearsed.

It has taken me a couple of months to get back into my stride and my creative energy has been taken up writing prose necessary for one of my MA modules. I have had an anxious six weeks where i have been completely drawing a blank with my script work. Although my short story writing has been going well i have been spending a lot of time staring at a blank page/computer screen when i have tried to write theatre. 

Thankfully a visit from Emma Adams who is currently working with Red Ladder Theatre Company has helped to reinvigorate me. When Emma spoke about her own work in one of our classes I realised what was frustrating me about mine. In a future post i will go into more detail about this but in a nutshell she advised me to identify the essence of the story i was telling and to pin down what excited me the most about the stories i wanted to tell. 

Another serendipitous occurrence is that a play i put forward for the students' script reading group, 'Interview' by Jean Claude Van Itallie has been selected to study. So i have been re-emersed in the theatrical landscape/vocabulary of Jean Claude Van Itallie, one of the playwrights who most inspired me as an undergraduate.

The culmination of all this is that i have reconnected with what i want to achieve theatrically and with a renewed enthusiasm and confidence the framework for a project has come together in my imagination. I have decided i want to write a trilogy of short plays that tackle various issues in british culture/society and our denial of these issues, 'The Elephant in the Room Trilogy'.

And so, i have made my proposal to the Committee. And their response to my proposal was to request a full script due in the first week of December. There's no way i can provide a script for then. I have to compile a 5000 word portfolio for my MA course and have to prioritise this until December 10th. The earliest i can have a script ready (and a draft script at that) will be early January. I have communicated this to the Committee and await their reply...

Posted via web from northerncreative's posterous

surprise!

I've often heard writers discussing new work and saying 'i saw that coming' or 'i didn't see that coming' in reference to narrative. They attribute considerable significance to this element of surprise in the story, in fact it seems to make or break their enjoyment of the work.

Until now this always baffled me a bit.

I have an 'all round' experience of performing, acting, directing, devising, management and technical support as well as writing (in theatre and some film). I can relate to and enjoy so many different elements of a production that the predictability or unpredictability of the story is not so imperative to my enjoyment. If the storyline is not very dynamic I tend to find there's a different emphasis, it will be visual or physical or technical or experimental, and i will enjoy these features.

However, now I have specialised i must assume a writer's perspective, and it has been brought to my attention  that a greater element of surprise is required in my own writing.

So, i'm keeping a beady eye out for and having a real think about surprising work.

Last night I saw 'Dead of Night' by Imprint Theatre Company ; a ventriloquist dummy (actually an actress performing the dummy) who appeared from a chest that had been located on the stage for the duration of the performance was a delicious surprise. The actress had been inside the chest for over an hour before she emerged. The fact that the dummy was eerily convincing was very engaging, and the fact that part way through the story the dummy actually began to speak for itself was yet another fresh, surprising offering.

Another great example can be found in Laurence Timm's 'Chinnery' the first five chapters of which can be found here . Have a read and you'll see what happens in chapter five. What i particularly like about this element of surprise is that suddenly we're presented with an entirely new mode of exposition. We're also introduced to lots of new things in this chapter in a wonderfully economic way, a new 'underground' environment, an organisation behind the scenes, a new character (the other voice in the transcript) and we see the story from another perspective. All very stimulating and exciting and unexpected.

I'm going to have to dig deeper to search out more subtle story surprises, the ones that the writer's say they didn't see coming. A story that springs to mind is Jim Cartwright's 'Two' where the loss of the Publican and his Wife's Son in a car accident is revealed, the juxtaposition of the horror of this incident set against the colourful backdrop of pub life. Could i see that coming though? It's certainly clear that something is coming, there are allusions leading up to the climax.

Something for me to continue thinking about and exploring.

one story 3 ways part 1

1st person, present tense

‘Bloody taxis,’ I say as I fall out of the taxi, ‘don’t make the bloody door holes big enough.’ I’m always falling out of them. Spend a lot of time on the floor. Glynn pays the driver. Good job ‘cos I’m skint.

I find my way inside. No point in dawdling about on the pavement. It’s not my usual kind of place. It’s upmarket. You have to show that you’re confident, to make sure you blend in with the clientele.

I can hear my heels clacking on the marble floor. It echoes. There’s a high ceiling.

I like it, it’s very contemporary. Brown sofas and low glass tables and the same brown leather on the stools at the bar, where I wait, for my companion to catch up and buy a round.

I peruse the cocktail menu and order the most expensive on the list.

Glynn finally plucks up the courage to come inside. He’s wearing a suit jacket especially for the occasion. He’s also wearing trainers. I look at him enduringly until he submits and lets me put his debit card behind the bar for a tab.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have done that, but I bet he thinks all his Christmases have come at once; out on a night on the town with me. 

one story 3 ways part 2

3^rd person, past tense

The taxi pulled up in the City Centre, and she tumbled out of it, giggling. She had already consumed two bottles of wine before she’d even left the house. Her male companion exited the cab more sensibly and paid the driver as she straightened herself and headed impatiently for their destination.

She pushed through the glass doors of the upmarket cocktail bar and made her way into the contemporary setting, brown leather sofas and low glass tables, with the same leather on tall steel struts for stools at the highly polished granite bar.

Her companion did not follow immediately, he paused, apprehensively outside. He was not as at ease with the scenario, unaccustomed to the ambience of establishments such as this one and already wary of the level of inebriation being demonstrated by the friend who had strode on ahead.

Her shoes clack, clack, clacked on the marble flooring under foot, drawing attention to her, turning heads and disturbing conversation. These were the same scuffed plastic heels that had tripped and stumbled along the City Centre’s pavements many, many nights before.

Feeling slightly vulnerable, standing alone at the bar and not wanting to lose face; she busied herself, grasping for a menu, making a quick assessment before she set the Barman to work on two of the most expensive champagne cocktails on the list. 

The Barman hesitated very slightly. There was something brazen in her request that stirred his gut, but he could not put his finger on what.  A seductive glint in her eye put a stop to his thoughts and he was giddy for a moment with her mischief; encouraged to follow through on her order.

When her companion finally plucked up the courage to come inside, head down, trying to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible, he was greeted with a Kir Royale and the expectant look that indicated it was his responsibility to pay for the drinks.

He searched the pockets of his ill fitting garment, his first ever suit jacket, purchased for him by his Mother, and pulled out a grubby canvas wallet that was as inappropriate as his footwear. When he was presented with the bill, folded over discreetly on a little silver platter he looked shocked and confused. He wasn’t even aware that alcoholic drinks could cost as much as this.

He needn’t have worried though as he was assisted in making the payment, in fact his debit card was liberated and placed in the till for a tab.  The barman exhaled and relaxed again, someone was now liable for what ever damage this frivolous young woman might cause.

She smiled at the barman cheekily, sensing his thoughts, crossing her legs and winding her ankles. She kicked the back of her shoe off and then on again, and off and then back on as she coaxed her paying companion up onto the bar stool next to hers.

one story 3 ways part 3

2nd person, future tense

You will fall out of the taxi, having drunk two bottles of wine before you’ve even left the house. When you hit the ground, you will not feel the pain because you will be numbed by the booze.

You will notice that your shoes are scuffed and you will feel slightly embarrassed, remembering how you stumbled before, in similar circumstances. You will curse the taxi and all other taxis for having door ways that are not wide enough, that cause you to fall down.

You will walk into the bar with what you think is confidence but it will not be real; your self assurance will be perceived as arrogance. The other people in the bar will turn to look at you disapprovingly and they will hear your clacking heels on the marble floor. There will be a high ceiling in the bar you are in and the clack, clack, clack will echo.

You will wait impatiently for your friend who will take his time in catching up with you. He will be slightly less sure of himself and his surroundings and he will be apprehensive about the night ahead, having spent the night out with you before.

You will order expensive drinks at the bar and expect someone else to pay for them. In fact, you will emotionally blackmail a man who can ill afford it to finance your binge. He will submit to you because he will know that resistance is futile. He will know this from past experience and though he will determine before he even gets in your taxi that this night will be different he will realise that this one will be just like all the others and that every night out with you will be exactly the same as this. 

Early encouragement

I  demonstrated creative leanings from a very early age at school.  I vividly remember a series of cat pictures in chalk pastel that my teacher remarked upon. These were mounted and put up on the class room display. I remember getting first prize for another of my artistic creations at the village fete one year, a felt tip rendition of a red indian squire standing grinning outside her teepee. The year before that I had won a crocodile soap dispenser for a painting of a pig doing its supermarket shopping (buying frozen peas), and i seem to remember also winning something in a wellington boot decorating competition with (again red indian themed) 'Big Chief Smelly Welly' (though i think i have to thank my Mum for that really).

This success wained as i continued through school and moved from the village into the suburbs of Leeds.

The first time anyone really sat up and took notice of my writen work was when i wrote a poem about a burning building; a homework assignment for my middle school english lesson. I took inspiration for the poem from a bonfire i had recently attended where i had observed flames of different colours according to what was being burned. I was in 'middle set', a moderate achiever and far more interested in impressing the two boys who i shared a table with than actually concentrating on what i was supposed to be doing. I remember my teacher's surprised response to the poem, reading it, looking at me and asking me twice if i had really written it myself. It was a long time ago so my memory is hazy but there was a meeting with my Parents after that, maybe on Parents' evening, and i was moved up into the 'top set' for the rest of my english classes at middle school.

High school saw me back in the moderate achiever band. This time it was my own take on 'The Pearl Fisher', where i wrote in 'missing chapters' about diving for pearls ,that prompted my elevation to the high achievers class. However, now adolescent, i was even less interested in engaging with my studies and saw school as a social occasion.

In the one subject i did take seriously, drama, I was fortunate to have a most unorthodox teacher. Mr Griffiths was a comedia del arte specialist with a knowledge about theatre that went beyond that of a qualified teacher. Another homework task, where we were to use a newspaper article as inspiration for a play again generated an excited and enthusiastic response from Mr Griffiths. The play was staged as part of a presentation evening for parents alongside a play written by Mr Griffiths himself. This was the person who suggested that i go see Samuel Beckett's 'Not I' and 'Happy Days' at the West Yorkshire Playhouse, a seminal experience for me. It is his encouragement that nagged at my subconscious and repeatedly brought be back to writing.

When the school announced that a-level theatre studies was not on the syllabus and i wept with unsurity about the future it was Mr Griffiths who I turned to. His advice spurred me on sufficiently to leave the secure familiarity of school and go to college where a-level theatre studies was on offer, but i was adamant that i would be an actor rather than a writer.

During my studies at college i was described as an 'all rounder' and enjoyed lead roles. I found directing very exciting too. No one noticed anything remarkable about the plays that i wrote, in fact people seemed rather unsure about the one play that was staged while i was there. The notion of being a writer was relagated to the odd emotional charged diary entry where i lamented a failing romance or unrequited love.

When it came to leaving college and going to university  I was very close to securing a place at a prestigious drama school to undertake a BA in directing. However, i didn't make the final cut from a shorlist of twelve to fill the six available places. Looking back i can see that drama school and London wouldn't have worked for me. Perhaps one day i will elaborate on why here on my blog.

Here i am now, eighteen years after Mr Griffiths correctly informed me that i was a writer and that i should pursue this path.

Back to Blogger and to blogging

I've decided that i'm coming back to Blogger and that i'm going to rethink my approach to blogging.

I've really raised the bar with my writing. Armed with the knowledge and experience i am accumulating on the MA that i have undertaken i am shaping up a more professional practice.

As Writers spend so much of their time in front of PCs/Laptops working on their writing and because Writers seek to communicate via the writen word it's no suprise that there are stacks and stacks of Writers who write fantastic blogs. These blogs chart their progress and become a kind of community. I need to plug into this community too and to add to the philanthropic melting pot.

I've been writing 'Working On It' over on the TUMBLR platform for quite a while but the community over there hasn't caught on. It's a platform much better suited to those working in visual media, paragraphs of text aren't popular at all.

So am back here with a new resolve and i'm looking forward to your comments and participation.

Over and out.