Week 3.

They're so brilliant.

Last Sunday's workshop took place at an uggh inducing 11:30 in the morning, not facilitated by my enjoyment of whisky at a Burns feast the night before. But the dear loyal things still struggled along. My heart nearly burst as one after another, they sidled up to the front door. For me (Catholic roots, I suppose), there is something literally sacred about a Sunday morning. So this dedication was much very much appreciated.

Laboriously I told them about the plot construct. Some of it. There are so many storylines that it feels eerily like Dallas. (Too many? Susan Mansfield's review of beauty tap tap taps on the back of my head, demanding attention.) I give attendees specific scenarios to ponder. How might this go for that character?

And again. Again! My mind is blown by their imagination and sharing and intelligence and wisdom. Some of the revelations were so farcically obvious that I wonder if I am stupid not to see. For example, lead character's best friend want to leave her partner but I'd constructed an elaborate sub-plot to explain why she couldn't. Thea and Laura rightly observe that as soon as there are children involved, well maybe you don't want to leave the children. Oh right. Yes! That happens. You elaborately heartless oafish woman. Maybe you don't need 35 knots to unravel to explain the decision.

And maybe when this lead character gets offers her dream job, maybe her future employees are a little worried about her ability to commit to her work given her caring responsibilities. Oh yes. Compassionless unempathetic monster. Maybe that is how someone with a shred of kindness might think. Heavens and shame on you (me) for not seeing that before.

It's funny because all of the things that I thought these workshops would fix (I say "all the things" but really I only mean one thing. The main thing. The ending!) have become sort of peripheral. Because by sorting out the detail and stripping out silly sub-plots - and remembering (remember Susan Mansfield) that the play really ought to have a point - the ending has sort of clicked and clunked into place. I've been writing and writing and writing (when not at work) since leaving the workshop.

My only regret is that the Spice Girls have gone. Alan was and is right. It was a weird and surreal and weirdly surreal interlude. But I did love it. Oh, maybe it should go back in. Time yet to decide.