Night & Day

I have written a play which is being performed this evening at the Djanogly Theatre in the Lakeside Arts Centre. Although I’ve had successes in fiction, poetry & journalism before, and last year I had a monologue performed in public by an actress, this is the first piece of drama of mine to be performed before a paying public. It was fascinating to attend the rehearsals and watch my characters emerge as real people before my eyes. The actors and also the director each had slightly different ideas about who these characters are and about what their voices should sound like; but it wasn’t entirely inappropriate and most of their ideas gave me a new vision into what I had actually written. It was as if I had given birth to a healthy living creature, but that these people were now breathing new life into its personality and spirit. Quite spooky.

I had intended to have an early night last night. I wasn’t feeling too bright, and exhaustion from a sleepless night the day before was setting in. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of dropping by the Broadway on my way home from dinner and it was here that I was soon hijacked. Drink after drink kept coming my way and although I didn’t become intoxicated to the degree of a loss of dignity, I nevertheless experienced an impairment of judgement – the kind of impairment often associated with the ingestion of alcohol. It all started with having to meet two very sociable people from the BBC who wanted to interview me about my involvement with the Nottingham Writers’ Studio. If it hadn’t been for that, I’d have probably left after one drink and been safely at home reading a book before dark. As it was, more and more of my Broadway comrades came along and before I could say ‘No thanks, I’ve had quite enough’, I was tottering home unsteadily after the night had turned cold, and I crashed into my bed without a single word of Iris Murdoch’s The Sea, The Sea having been read.

So here I now sit, the roseate fingers of the early dawn having already uncurled before I had woken, wondering what I can do today to rescue my downwardly spiralling and pitiful existence. I think it would be a safe and wise thing to abstain completely from the demon drink in future. Whereas it is true that our old friend Horace once wrote: “No verse can give pleasure for long, nor last, that is written by drinkers of water”, I nevertheless believe that clarity of mind and purity of spirit is what I need right now. I’ve tried the “everything in moderation” route, and it leads to nowhere. Well it does actually; it leads to desperation and ruin.

I have been dreaming for half the night about arguing with people and wonder why this should be so? Arguing with people is both debilitating and discouraging to the creative mind. I awoke with a sense of injustice and unhappiness, whereas I should have woken with a sense of excitement and anticipation about seeing the audience’s reaction to tonight’s performance. The world premiere of my play ‘Feeding Time’ is almost upon us. It is being billed as the work of an ‘emerging’ writer. Maybe I should have a facelift so that in future, my work can be announced as that of a ‘young writer’? The babbling press would always prefer that, I’m sure.