Reading

As a writer, I'm pretty dedicated to putting words (or at present, changing words) on the page.  But as I continue with the rewrites for Coalface, and begin to write the follow-up to Hidden Daughter, I know there's more to it than that.  Because writing only refers to the process I use for what I really do; which is storytelling.

Part of my new 'to finish reading' pile-
don't even get me started with
what's on the E-book reader...

Getting an experience of storytelling from the outside looking inwards is as important as being inside your own story; a timely reminder that whatever you think of your story, the audience/reader will probably be thinking about it from another perspective.  In a very real sense, your story becomes their story. 

It was great to experience storytelling from both perspectives when Sent/Received was performed alongside works by other writers at the Word of Mouth's horror event recently.  Now I'm going to continue the experience by actually finishing the pile of novels I've started reading during 2011, then misplaced when the spectre of work tapped me on the shoulder.  It's a bad habit, and it's going to stop.

So here's the plan: if we bump into one another and I can't tell you what I was last reading, I owe you a coffee/tea/beverage.  Because like writers, readers finish.  Or wind up buying a lot of coffee.

Sent/Received at Broadway Nottingham

Rachael Pennell & Jonathan Greaves
performing 'Sent/Received'
(pic courtesy Mayhem Festival)

Another great performance of Sent/Received on Monday night - my thanks to Andrea Milde for directing, Robin Vaughan-Williams for his tech skills and to Johnathan Greaves and Rachael Pennell for bringing my strange little tale of text messaging to life.  And a special thank you to everyone who came to listen to our work - I really appreciate it, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Now it's back to my rewrites for Coalface - a very different world of thrills and suspense...

Sheffield

Had a fantastic time watching Sent/Received's first performance as part of Skype Me! at Showroom 5 last night.  As well as hearing works from local poets and writers, I had the chance to enjoy the company of performers from three other continents - something the generation before me couldn't dream of making happen without a lot of time and money.  True, there were glitches along the way (ably resolved by the unflappable Robin Vaughan-Williams), but it only seemed to add to the experience - I was really glad to play a part in it.

It's still sinking in that the words I began to write in June are now being performed just a few months later.  The audience laughed in the right places (and some unexpected ones), then became very quiet as my text-message tale unfolded before them.  Looking forward to seeing our next performance at Broadway Nottingham as part of the Mayhem Festival on Monday night, along with ghostly archive recordings and live readings from Niki Valentine, Pete Davis, Megan Taylor, Charlotte Thompson and graphic novellist Brick.

Still very nervous, still very excited - I'll be the one hiding behind the sofa.

Cloud

 

Good with haddock

Been away from the internet for the last few days.  I said goodbye to Andrea, Jonathan, Rachel and Robin at the Monday rehearsal for Sent/Received, started the car, and wound up in the Lake District.  It’s been a good few days off- as well as the obligatory fish & chips & local beer in Keswick, I managed to find my way up the side of a fell.

When we set off for Skiddaw, it was one of those Autumn mornings full of promise and sunshine; good enough to keep you going in the cold as you tramped along the path.  Then we hit the cloud cover - thicker and thicker, wetter and wetter.
It’s been a terrific experience watching the rehearsals for Sent/Received, but now the cloud has come down around me as I make my way to its premiere in Sheffield on Saturday night, before a second night in Nottingham on Halloween.

Probably the summit,
with view across to
Bassenthwaite.  Probably.

Standing in a cloud is a strange thing.  The water vapour drifts past your eyes, and the lack of distance vision creeps up on you until you realise you can't see beyond ten paces ahead.  Or ten paces behind.  And although the path up the fell is well laid out, and the cairns solid and frequent, you get an eerie feeling the herdwick sheep were on to something when they stayed put as you climbed past them.  All you can rely on are your ancient instincts, like your ancestors did before satnav. 

That you will find your way.

At the last rehearsal, there was an incredible moment where I forgot I’d written the script, and got lost in the performance; I’m trusting my instincts that the audience will get lost in the same cloud and enjoy Sent/Received the same way.  If you’re coming along to either night, say hello; it’ll be good to share the journey off the peak before I set off for the next one.