Thursday, August 30, 2018

Ahhhh, #edfringe.

I caught three five star shows in three days in the final days. Cora Bissett's What Girls Are Made Of which made me cry and cry for the shameless honesty of her storytelling.

David Ireland's Ulster American was sharp and dark and funny. And made me realise I could go some as far as my script writing is concerned before I am there. Wherever there is.

Electrolyte was just (not just at all) a little piece of magic. Or a big roaring euphoric romp of a show. Depending on how you'd like to look at it.

And now it's done. *sniff*

Friday, August 24, 2018

This was total tosh. Though had more merit than the sort porn they served up the weekend before. This time, I don't agree with Joyce. (Her thoughts are printed but not yet made it to t'internet.) You'll have to wait with baited breath to see what merit she saw that escaped me. But Lyn. Go, girl! I wish I'd said that.

Thursday, August 23, 2018

Stumbling under the pangs of loss for my #skirt, I have been filling the void (inadequately) with reviewing.

Most reviews are fairly straightforward.

This, this and this were excellent. This was stunning. This knocked my socks off. And this is magic. I saw some other less memorably wonderful though perfectly good stuff. Some stuff I struggled with.

Oftentimes, the star rating is really obvious. Sometimes, I really dither. Sometimes, I even yearn for the Evening News' attempt to address the need for a half star by giving their reviewers seven stars rather than five. Other shows, I've been extremely grateful I wasn't reviewing.

This was a dither. But I went with my heart. And have just been pathetically vindicated by Joyce.

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Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Calamity. Photo courtesy of Jennie Landels.

Thursday, August 09, 2018

We sold out Monday, last night and are already sold out for Friday. And then there was this.

Fringeing is fun.

Monday, August 06, 2018

Friday was the final time I had my pretty chickens gathered around my ankles. Then we packed up a car and left BP. 

I was interviewed on Radio Saltire on Saturday afternoon. That was fun. You can take a listen here. I was on from 3:15 until 3:45. 

The get in was comically painless. 

I spent most of the tech thinking I might burst with stress. 

My to do list seems to be growing arms and legs. 

But in 12 hours, opening night will be done and dusted and I might get a bit of my life back. 

We have six tickets left for this evening's show. Our world premiere. (Chortle.)

Wednesday, August 01, 2018

I think I'm becoming quite boring. ("Becoming?!" I hear you cry.)  Blah blah rehearsals are so great. Blah blah my cast are so great. Blah blah. 

I do keep meaning to write intelligent and thoughtful posts about my experiences of gender politics in the light of having written this script. You know, commentary that might actually be half interesting.

But the show's on next week and I've got no time. So these thoughtful reflections will have to wait until they're no longer relevant to anyone. Tant pis.