Hello hello,

This week has seen me all over the place and will see me in yet more places before it's up. I've seen the inside of three different hotels in three different countries this week. (Perhaps I'm actually trapped in a Simon Stephens play?) I'm writing this newsletter in the last of these: a lovely place in south Dublin. It's been an exhausting week and though it's been hard to get any consistent writing done (I have effectively done nothing that's pure writing in fact), the work I have managed to get done has felt pretty satisfying. 

Monday saw me go up to Edinburgh for the reading of a radio play I've written alongside playwright Tallulah Brown for HighTide/BBC Radio 3. The rehearsal last Thursday threw up the unfortunate fact that my piece was between 8 and 10 minutes too long so, having gone into rapid rewrite mode on Friday, the train up involved me looking for further, easily actionable cuts. Had a glorious night hanging out with some new people (and some slightly older people), then got up early to take my wine-addled brain to Assembly Roxy for the reading, which went well (Again - as mentioned last week - how could it not with Clare Perkins playing the ghost of a wooly mammoth?). I can't wait to have it recorded by the seaside in Aldeburgh next month. Edinburgh turned out to be a vastly better experience than I usually have, though I was mildly disappointed/utterly devastated that Piemaker was shut the two times I went to it, despite the opening times saying it shouldn't be so no macaroni cheese pie for me this year. I did, however, get to make my pilgrimage to Red Box Noodle and for that, at least, I'm grateful.

I flew out on Tuesday evening, ready for a full day's work on Wednesday (though a slightly hotel hiccup here means that I've actually seen the inside of *four* hotels this week), returning to London that evening just in time to see Anjana Vasan's gig at The Harrison - her first and only this year. It was almost exactly a year ago that I saw her playing that same venue, not long after the cast for An Adventure was announced, so it was a warm, nostalgic evening for me, particularly since Aysha (who was also in the play) made it along too. Anj was brilliant as ever and provided perhaps the only unexpected kazoo solo that I've welcomed. I'm going to plug her EP for the second time on this newsletter to make sure you listen to it and bug her to make another one. I've actually listened to a fair bit of new music this week, which is unusual for me. Highlights include Kapil Seshasayee and Half Formed Things (who I'm listening to as I write this, in fact). They have a gig at the Mash House on the 31st in Edinburgh at the Mash House which I'm sure will be electric so if you're around, get yourself down there.

On Thursday, I got to be part of Theatre503's 503Studio summer take over. I've increasingly come to the inclusion that I'm not a particularly good teacher, as much as I'd like to be, so when I got asked if I wanted to help out, I reached for things that had been useful to me early in my career that weren't workshops. Then I remembered how Sudha Bhuchar, when she was still AD of Tamasha theatre company, had a free day where you could sign up and just talk to her about absolutely anything you wanted. As someone who didn't know anything much about theatre, it was exciting to have the level of access and a chance to get to ask questions that are hard to broach in other contexts. So I stole that idea and repurposed it for my own ends, which mainly meant sitting in the beer garden of The Latchmere from 10.30am to 7.30pm. It was brilliant though, and while everyone who came along had distinctly different concerns and queries, they all had a passion that was enlivening on such a long week and it was useful for me to get an understanding of what the ecology of theatre looks like at the grassroots now that I've drifted away from it somewhat. I think it's easy, as an older artist, to assume conditions have remained static and to give bad advice based on your early experiences that will just frustrate because those opportunities have shifted. Hopefully I've avoided that!

And now I'm in Dublin, having braved the travails of Ryanair, to attend the Hugos tomorrow. I'm here because my Doctor Who episode, Demons of the Punjab has been nominated for an award which is still slightly surreal. I've written elsewhere on how much it means to me and while I've no expectation of winning in a very strong category (my money is on one of the Good Place episode or on Malorie Blackman's Rosa ep of Who), this is very much a life highlight moment and I hope to enjoy it. Teenaged me is losing his mind at my life at the minute, I think. Also - in a bit of strange coincidence - I'm writing this on the very day that Demons of the Punjab is set. Spooky.

What else has happened? Murdered By My Father screened again late on BBC1 and I got a flurry of messages about it, both on Twitter and the phone. It gave me flashbacks to spending the spring of 2016 trying to correct any wayward reactions to it on the internet. Very much a man shouting at the tide, but felt important to try and do. It's hard not to have slightly mixed feelings about that programme. I'm very proud of it and what it's done, but the repeat of it demonstrates the conflicted legacy it has for me. It doesn't feel like the representation that’s needed right now, and in that regard I'm very excited about some projects friends are working on that you'll see in the next year or so. Sorry to be secretive, but it'll be worth the wait. There was a small salve for me from the MBMF airing though. While in Edinburgh I got to meet and talk to someone for whom that drama meant a great deal and that was a heartening moment for me.

I've done it again, haven't I? I've hit the word count and I still didn't get to do my project density pondering. Next week. I pinky promise. Til then, keep well folks xx
 

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