La Belle Dame sans Merci. Public domain.
The Five Stages of a besotted fool.
1. How did I fall?
By accident, of course. Love happens, love is, and you never know when it's going to punch you on the nose. There's no fool... as the old cliché begins... and I'm no spring chicken... but I won't finish the phrase... not yet. One of the many things drummed into me by my Creative Writing course (sadly coming to an end) - avoid the French word at all costs.
I came to the love of scribbling via my first romance; acting. As a naive young man, I was convinced I'd found my vocation when accepted at a prestigious drama school in London. The bright lights! The greasepaint, the adoring fans!
Nope. Years of rejection, depression and crappy jobs to pay the rent. Who needs fame? It's so overrated. Bitter? No! I'm a realist. Who wants to be an actor? Posers and egotists. Sorry, sorry, breathe... I'm over it, really. It's only taken forty years.
So anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, lying through my crowns. My life took a different direction, dahlings... (old habits), and I spent the next thirty years in a profession totally unrelated to the arts.
2. How deep is my love?
Nevertheless, the little worm (or is it a snake?) of creativity had burrowed deep into my psyche and would not die. I couldn't give her up. She had possessed me utterly for too long. I could do nothing but continue the tawdry relationship in some small way. I even... yes, it's ghastly I know... tried my hand at... writing plays for drama groups.
I still love her... it... thingy... with a passion, the craft, the dynamics, the wonderful potential for penetrating the depths of the human condition. (No! Not a metaphor for sex! Thespianism.) I see it as a wonderful tool (cut it out, argh!) for communion. (Oh, shucks.)
3. What steps did I take to win her hand?
I knew if I was going to get her back I needed help. There was nothing for it. I had to improve my writing in order to express the depths of my feelings, become an overnight Broadway success and turn into a jaded, alcoholic, drug-taking, sex-addict...
No!
So that I could... write better plays and perform them with friends to audiences in my local town and surrounding areas.
The privilege afforded me by my University course of being able to do so is not one I take lightly. I've learned a tremendous amount and enjoyed the process immensely.
4. How does she work in me?
University has emboldened me to explore and approach the beast of creation with a sense of awe, wonder, fun.
I sit at my workbench with reverence, participating in an ancient, yet vitally new ceremony, which I can only ever learn from. It's a personal space that embraces me, calls me to adventure.
I work best in the daytime and make sure to have a break when I feel I've done enough. I enjoy an ordered, quiet space and plenty of time. If after a while of endeavour I find I'm not in a creative space, I stop and come back later. It seems I work best under a certain amount of pressure but too much can easily tip the balance. This may be why I prefer to tackle things head-on rather than leave them to the last minute.
The greatest gifts of my tutors are now second nature to me; editing, revising, discarding, simplifying. I seem to enjoy these processes more than I'd like to admit.
Asking the advice of friends is something I’ve rarely done in the past, but now see as essential. I also find reading my work aloud to be useful, as is leaving it for some time and coming back with a fresh mind.
5. How does she feed me?
I am in my seventh decade. Ouch! I find I've become lighter in spirit as I approach my second childhood. I have no desire to compete, conquer, convince. I'm joyous in my desire to learn and share with a few friends and am unburdened by any urge to succeed or concerned by failure.
My confidence in my growing writing abilities is a pleasure and I intend to embark on new and old projects with gusto. I have a few plays that need revisiting with my newfound editing knife and will send finished products to various outlets. (Just for the fun of it!)
In the past, I've found the BBC Writer’s Room to be a good source of opportunities and advice. I've sent plays to various competitions such as Papatango, The Bruntwood Prize, The Bush Theatre, Theatre 503, among others.
As a consequence of attending University, I've rekindled my passion for creativity. It has given me the confidence to write with a critical eye and tools to strengthen my enjoyment of the magical craft of writing. I realise I’m a novice and have much to learn but see this as a positive; a call to adventure. Being an eternal romantic, I can’t wait to go.
I give my constant gratitude to the muse.
The cliché I began with, it ends with... oh, dear, I've forgotten. Nurse...
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