In the pursuit of eternal optimism (25th Grassington Octagon plus WYP workshop with Penguin writer and director)

On Sat, I attended one of the best drama-writing workshops I've been to, at West Yorkshire Playhouse, given by Tom Wells writer of 'Me, as a Penguin' and his director Chris Hill. Both very young, very talented and very enthusiastic/supportive. Workshops etc can too easily get clogged up by ego - either that of those leading them or of those attending. This had a great 'we're only here to learn' atmosphere. It was invaluable to be able to put questions to both a writer and director of new writing at the same time on such as presentation, voice, interpretation. It only lasted 2 hours, but I learnt a lot and we also did some useful writing exercises, 'cast' amongst us and read aloud, with feedback given. So good on yer lads!

In the pursuit of eternal optimism, our preview for Edinburgh takes place in Grassington Fringe Festival at Grassington Octagon, Fri pm 18th June 10.30pm £5 (still under the earlier title of ‘Maltesa Falcon’ but is newly-developed version). www.grassington-festival.org.uk/fringe.cfm
Yes, turned out not such good choice of date and Mr Gerrard shall have to excuse us for stealing his viewers!
We're hoping the anti-football lobby will forsake 'girls having their nails done instead' events and come and see us. Another good show on before us, so a more cerebral night out is to be had.

So much for NY resolutions

Well, my blog a lot in 2010 one didn't work. However I always intended this blog for writerly matters in the main. With the new year off to a slow, snow-bound start, and everyone chilled to the marrow, not a lot of writing activity going on. Mea culpa!
That said, I tutored the first of my play-writing classes at York Uni last week. Really enjoyed it. A great bunch of students (though some fourteen of them brings a time pressure in trying to hear everyone's contribution). I came home exhausted.
Last week, went to an interesting Script Yorkshire talk by Christopher Reason, an Eastenders writer-veteran of the Pat Butcher earrings line fame. (I think Pat's earrings were quite classy compared with Bette Lynch's toilets. Now they were seriously common and vulgar bling.)
Am desparately trying to finish a first draft of scenes for my collaborative play with Mick Yates, 'Doublecross'.
Also have a poem to write for a competition deadline, but it's a very personal and painful one, so not easy.
This morning, am off to West Yorkshire Playhouse to meet the actress, Irene Loftbouse, whom I'm working with on taking 'Malteser Falcon' to Edinburgh Fringe. We're talking to a couple of potential directors who may be able to help develop it further (one being Ray Brown, who I think could be great, but Irene has to decide on who she feels can best 'stretch' her, plus the chemistry is so important between actor and director. Being merely the writer, I'll be leaving them to it a lot - except when it comes to my own favourite equivalent of the Pat Butcher's earrings lines. I've already had to persuade Irene we cannot cut out Derek the winkle-seller. Huh, the very thought of it! He's the nearest we get to a hero.)