Stage one: Writing

Before any actors or lights or costumes or directing comes the writing. Hard, tiresome and brain tangling writing. At the moment I’d say the most stressful bit but I reckon I’ll say that for every bit.

I’m not entirely sure where the idea came from, I just remember getting very into it on my 13^th birthday weekend and buying my favourite thing to write in: a thick pad of lined paper. Safe to say my first attempt was awful and I would not advise trying to write a whole play by hand (Shakespeare, I commend you). My biggest issue was, as per usual well pointed out by my mum, ‘too poetic, not real enough, no one would say that.’ And of course she was right, it was a true disaster, I’ve searched out an extract to show you:

Beth: You have to begin to prepare it three days in advance. You start by making the rose broth; you must use fresh roses, my favourite being red. Despite my best efforts I always manage to prick myself; father told me ‘you mustn’t get blood in the broth as it will alter the taste’. To the roses you add wine and water. Leave for twenty- four hours then add saffron. After another twenty-four hours, a pinch of salt and your bird. Cover and allow to infuse for a day. It’s best served with freshly baked rye.

Don’t worry a lot has changed, for a start she’s no longer called Beth. I’m sure you can see it’s issues, no one talks like that and no one makes bird poached in saffron and rose. The first draft really wasn’t my finest.

Safe to say things could only go up; but for a while White Flies remained sea level. I think it was a number of distractions: secondary school entries, leaving school, making new friends, boarding. The every day got the better of my writing and White Flies was not forgotten, it just wasn’t at the forefront of my mind.

It was the long boring prep sessions that reignited my fire for it, Sitting in your JCR (junior common room) for an hour with nothing to do and the need to be silent, really isn’t fun. Hating to feel I was wasting my time I cracked out my laptop and cracked open my bottled idea.

Last term saw me get a substantial amount done and this term to. My main time for writing being in Junior Play rehearsals, my part being an extended member of the audience (Shell: scum), I tell you there’s only so many times you can laugh at the same joke. So, my problem at the moment is trying to fit all the different sections together.

Writing a piece for an English Prep about a twin dying (I am a happy person), saw me do some research which adds so much depth to the writing; I realised I hadn’t done any research on schizophrenia. To the IT room I went to print out 60 pages of information of which I sieved through during prep.

Orange highlighter: relating to Therapist.

Blue highlighter: relating to Jane.

Yellow highlighter: general information

The idea isn’t to bombard the play with facts but if you have that knowledge the words make much more of a point.

At the moment I’ve reached a sticky point; what I wrote pre-research is a lot more dramatic and unbelievable compared with what I’m writing now. I don’t want to get rid of it as I think the play would be interesting with some really dramatic episodes but I do want it to be as realistic as possible.

A more theatrical extract:

Jane: Fate.

Therapist: Indeed.

Jane: I don’t think fate will ever find me.

Therapist: And why do you say that?

Voice: Fate is blood dripping with blood, your blood, your own blood. Like Oedipus slaughtering his father and mixing blood with his mother creating little deathly blood drops. Drops of red sin.

Jane: I’m never going to find the right man am I? Not while I’m like this. Not unless they’re the same as me, as crazy as I am and then imagine the messed up kids we’d have? Talk about a mad house.

An extract from my most recent, rehearsal, writing.

Therapist: Have you worked on those goals we set last time?

Jane: Of course.

Therapist: So what sort of steps have you tried to take?

Jane: Making a new friend is hard, I’ve tried to go to places where friends may be but I haven’t found one.

Therapist: What sort of places?

Jane: Libraries, as I want my friends to be intelligent so we have something to talk about, parks because people in parks are usually fit and like the outdoors. No pubs or clubs as I don’t like them so I don’t want my friend to.

Therapist: And what kind of person are you hoping to find here?

Jane: The perfect friend.

I much prefer this, as although it’s a little more realistic it’s still odd. Looks like there will have to be some rewrites.

A boarding house and a laptop just isn’t the place to sort my ideas so I’m waiting for that first week in the holidays where I can get it up on a big screen and not have people asking if they can borrow a top.

Little tip: phones are excellent places to write things on, essays or poems as you always have the on you and your work becomes pocket-able, though you do run the risk of looking extremely anti-social.