Prioritising

I have been an abysmal, neglectful, frustrating, dishonest and quite frankly flaky-as-hell writer as of late.

This does not just apply to my blog. I haven't been working on any of my projects. The huge file on my laptop marked novel has remained untouched. The beautiful embossed notebook I bought from Paperchase, planning to carry it with me everywhere and note down (amongst other things) stand up material, has barely left my house.

And it doesn't even just apply to writing, if I'm honest. I've let a lot of things slide: The xmas jingling in the distance is growing louder, and yet there's no sign of me doing my Christmas shopping in the near future; I haven't seen my best friend in a few weeks; I keep putting off meal prep, so I catch myself buying food out about ten times a week; I've been hitting the gym about once a week MAX.

(Needless to say, what with the cold and whatnot, I haven't exactly been eating appropriately. Quite. The opposite.)

And yet, I'm buoyantly happy. I go around these days with a smile on my face the size of Jupiter.

In fact, I am currently bedbound, having been struck down with a seriously OTT cold, which has made me curl up into the foetal position in a corner of a room, sniffling to myself and gently rocking back and forth, at least four times in the last two days.

However, instead of sinking slowly into my usual howling pit of despair, I find myself fighting it. I'm constantly trying to find ways to be productive, to get myself out of bed and out of my funk. I even did some washing, today, in between bouts of utter bodily exhaustion!

Full on unarmed combat. If the virus currently gripping my body is Agent Smith, then I am Neo in the third movie... Could this mean my character development is getting somewhere at last?

Probably not, sadly. Although I am filled with all the positive emotions associated with joy - hope, general benevolence, and a majickal ability to keep my sense of humour when people snap at me - I know, deep in my bones, that it's all temporary.

The reason behind this giddy phase is clear to me: I'm in a play. I get to do what I love (pretty much) all day every day. I get to grab onto a character, analyse a script, get in that rehearsal room and just work.

The Reason Why

Oh, and of course it helps if said play is an all-female production of "The Scottish Play", complete with an awesome feminist director, fight choreographer, spine-chillingly-talented yet super friendly and welcoming cast AND the hefty clout of The East London Shakespeare Company behind it.

(Seriously, though. It's. Gonna. Be. IN. SANE. Grab your tickets here: https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/o/east-london-shakespeare-company-7472086015 It runs from 21st Nov to the 2nd Dec at The Courtyard Theatre, London!)

Since graduating, I have been mostly focusing on the film and TV side of acting, as that's where (mostly) names are made. But I didn't realise what I was missing. I missed the warm feeling of being part of a tight cast. I missed the way the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when you nail that difficult emotional scene. I missed theatre. My first love.

The last few weeks have whirled by in a comfortable beat of wake-eat-rehearse-eat-work-eat-sleep-repeat. And I've loved every second of it.

I've made a solid twenty new friends, and learned skills and nuances of my craft that I've never touched on before. I am truly, truly lucky. This could be the beginning of a steady career. And even if not, even if this is as far as it goes, I want to get to the end of the run and feel proud - like I've surpassed my expectations of myself.

So, in conclusion, dear reader, I WILL complete the posts that are currently languishing unedited in my drafts. I WILL get back to optimum fighting fitness, I WILL invest some time and energy in my comedy stuff and - one day in the probably extremely far future - I WILL finish that damn book.

Until that day comes, I apologise for the relative radio silence.

Char

xxx