Happy New Year (again)

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Actually not feeling too bad this morning. This is largely down to the fact that it is not actually morning, and has not been so for three and a half hours. Despite my best intentions, the Christmas tree is still up and flickering (that was put up LAST YEAR), and is a gentle reminder that I’m not going into work today. Although, I have already been working, since I’ve solved some plotting points on a play I’ve been working on.

It’s only (‘only’?) a ten minute play, but it was one of those ideas where the ‘high-concept’ hook of the thing was arguably more seductive than the meat-and-potatoes of the actual story, and so it was taking me a while to put together Motive A to lock into Result B. It’s still got some way to go yet (the physical act of writing the rest of it, for instance), but it’s good that so far in 2017, I haven’t got writer’s block (that won’t kick into place until at least 7pm tomorrow).

New Year’s Eve itself was a lovely thing, full of lovely people and I know that I wasn’t as awkward as I usually am at parties, because there was a full eleven seconds where I’d agreed to sing Wuthering Heights (new vocal version) at karaoke. Luckily for me (and indeed, anybody in the vicinity with ears), midnight got in the way, and most people were more concerned with singing Auld Lang Syne than with me singing early Kate Bush. A lucky escape for everybody there.

So, here we are – in a new year. It’s already horrifically busy with various projects, and as ever, these projects aren’t even the full time job: they’re stuffed into what we laughingly call ‘spare time’. (right now, I can hear the voices of various Christmas Sprits Past admonishing me: ‘yes, Andrew, but you choose to live like this, don’t you’, to which I say: SHUSH NOW). I’m directing a play for the Brighton Fringe (of which more details another time), curating the next batch of short plays for Cast Iron Theatre (it’s called CAST IRON 9, but in reality, it’s CAST IRON TWELVE, or FIFTEEN. It’s just that we occasionally have special ‘one-off’ nights that are named, rather than numbered), and we’re beginning to clear the decks for something in August which is in equal measures exciting and terrifying. (again, more details on that later on in the year).

So, I’m going to go away and do some of that.

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