The Loneliness of a Content Ingestor

I’m the only one on my entire floor at work. It was like this yesterday, and it’ll be like this tomorrow. It’s bloody great – Massively productive, but not a pain, and gives me time to think. Did catch myself singing year 7 eco-musical “Ocean World” out loud though, which isn’t a good look.

Yesterday, I slightly abused the work printer, and sent Ayodhya off to three theatres. The cover letters are a little cringey, but they are at least tailored to the different places, which always helps. So far, according to the tracking, one has received it, one has received it and emailed me to thank me for it (slick, nice work those guys) and one has had the dreaded “Sorry You Weren’t In” card. I hope they bother to pick it up from the post office! Will give it til this time next week and then consider handing in a version in person. I don’t expect much to come of it (that’s right, play it down), but if I can establish some sort of a relationship, that’ll be a good start. The aim from here is to get to a point where they’d want to come along to anything else I get put on (note to self: get stuff put on).

I didn’t rewrite the play in the end, merely tinkered with a beat here and there to make it clearer. Having six nights in on the bounce and not having to work around Xmas really helped settle my mind. I even managed to read a book, not a play, a book, for the first time in ages. It was Orwell’s Down and Out in Paris and London. Started it earlier in the year, but never got to finishing and now I breezed through it in a day. As always, written with stunning clarity and compassion. I’m sure I’ve said it before, but the former Eric Blair’s non-fiction work is incredible and I can only dream about writing as well as that one day.

Speaking of – I did get around to *some* writing in the time. Nothing new, all re-working and copying up of some notes, but it felt great. When I was doing it, I recovered a bit of that feeling of contentment and worth that I had in the summer, which was glorious, and my confidence in Ayodhya as a decent piece of work came flooding back. However, I also feel as if I’m a different person now from the person who first wrote the play, which pushed me away from doing a big rewrite. Structure aside, the mechanics of the thing was based entirely on the intensity of emotion – I don’t feel that strongly anymore, so wouldn’t want to mess about with it retrospectively…it feels quite dishonest. I’d like to say that accounts for the sick feeling when I think about opening and working on it, but it’s probably just the work shirker in me.

Next up, I’ve got to finish my radio play in a week, or Farokh will kill me. I’m nowhere near it, so I expect the baseball bat in the skull, but I did think through the story a bit more and came up with very useful things. Specifically, Jordi’s betrayal of Keval needs to be a greater deal in order to motivate his desire to immolate his guilt. Also found ways to tighten the relationship between him and radio producer, so that we understand the risks of him leaving her to go to India. I also identified the point where Keval’s club force him to be an “ambassador” to the Indian academies as the point where it all starts going wrong.

What else am I up to…I’m waiting to see if I’ve made the Write to Shine final six writers. If so, will have to cancel my NY holiday, so part of me doesn’t want to do it, but of course it would be great if I did. Oh, and possibly going on a date next week, which could be fun. I’ll let you know.

I’ve done a lot of thinking about friends and communities of late, but will also get onto that in a later post.

P.S. Bought a Pinter biography by his wife, Antonia Fraser. Looking forward to that ‘un.

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