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Diary
of a Lazy Playwright
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13th January, 2002New years resolution: get out of bed at a resonable hour, go to bed at a reasonable hour. Put it on kitchen noticeboard. Got out of bed at 11.45 am after another late night. Have decided to write to Tom Conti. Prompted by reading The Glittering Prizes again and remembering how superb he was in the TV version. Last wrote to him eighteen years ago after he spoke out against nucleur weapons. He replied, handwritten, twice. Will write again as he has made a stand against TV soaps.(Hurrah!) He'd also be perfect in one of the plays we're trying to get off the ground this year; Clearance, which I should be typing from old computer to new computer. Tell my agent, who says he lives locally to her. Last year's resolution; type in Clearance. As yet only fifteen pages done. Agent rang to say "Have you typed in Clearance yet?" I say not quite. John Gorman, suggests I contact John Peel on Radio 4's Home Truths about me finding a teacher from thirty one years ago and meeting him last November. Must remember to go on BBC website and find Home Truths' contact details. Put it on my things-to-do list, which is fast becoming a putting-off list. Another resolution: to get something in Private Eye this year. Nearly all the ideas I come up with have been covered already. Friend Fraser (theatre and opera director) rings and in between our guffaws remembering Matt Lucas 'doing' - so to speak - Shirley Bassey and Elton John on Rock Profiles last year, we come up with a few ideas I can work on. Decide to start work on them tomorrow, with the intention of preparing a package to send in a month's time. Add it to my things-to-do list... Should really be doing work for a play I'm writing about a Waffen SS officer. Research should be kicking in by now - books to skim, videos to watch, people to speak to. Make mental note to trawl through the internet research sites I've put in 'favourites' over the last few months taking notes. Also to read salient books while blind dog recovers from operation he's having on Friday. Don't put it on my things-to-do list as it's mentally nagging me to death. Must ring The Soho Theatre. They've read one of my plays and want to meet me to "talk about my writing" This was a few months ago, so must ring to see where it's all going. This will be put off until I can't find any more excuses. As whatever words are used, it all boils down to 'please like my play and put it on, or maybe the next one I'm writing?' Which boils down again to 'Give us a job'. Will ring tomorrow, put it on things-to-do list. Friend Jeremy rings. He has been crazy mad about Clearance for a while now and wants to take it to Edinburgh. He's booked a fringe theatre in London for three weeks for a play he wants to do, but the rights weren't available. "Have I got anything simple to stage, that can be rehearsed very quickly, suitable for this particular space?" He mentioned something I'd actually forgotten about, that I wrote three years ago and never sent out. "If not can you think of anything?". I had nothing suitable for the space or rehearsal restrictions. Resolve to write up my ideas for two-handers, in the event this ever happens again. The play he mentioned is on the old computer and neither of us could remember the name of it. Couldn't find a typed copy. Resolve to tidy up all my plays and type in last remaining writings from old computer and have some semblance of efficiency. Put it on the things-to-do list. From a line that came into my head last year I have an idea for a cracking Christmas radio play. A two hander, probably half an hour long. They'll be queuing at the the door for this every Christmas - surely? But if I write this, Clearance doesn't get typed in, also research won't get done, Private Eye takes a back seat. Think: with three internet columns to write and all the other projects, could I devote a day of the week to each project or would I get so confused I'd go mad and end up writing for The Bill? Resolve to get up at 6.30 each morning to fit it all in. Tell Partner Howard and friend Fraser this. Have to pick Fraser and Howard up from the Casualty department as they collapsed laughing. Lynne Harvey
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