Hello.

I've been having a lovely old time. Of course not winning any of these prizes mentioned previously but continuing not to renounce theatre in retaliation, you'll be relieved to know. 

I've done a very small amount of reviewing so far, this year. Stand out shows from Manipulate, which I did manage to encounter a little of (poor sentence), were Tess by the wonderful Ockham's Razor and this extraordinary show which was largely composed of tiny hoovers. 

I've just seen the Lyceum's lovely Girls of Slender Means and toiled over the review, soon to be published, no doubt. I was somewhat underwhelmed by James V. And Hamilton, in touring form, continues to be a spectacular feat though inevitably somewhat scaled back from the West End festivity of technical complexity. 

However, I was lucky enough to see x2 shows in London recently which were both - astonishing is a strong word - but possibly actually astonishing. I need to consider my words here so will report back - you'll wait with baited breath - in due course. 

Poor blog!

I've done a Fringe show since I last posted. I've written one new script. I've entered loads more competitions. Of course I've got nowhere with any of them. I've written five scenes of another new script. A whole new year has come. 

And I saw this and another couple of fine things in Manipulate. Lots on for the remaining week or so, so do check it out. 

Poor blog. 

I was guiltily thinking about you this evening.

It's the Fringe.

I saw Finnish visual theatre and a 15 minute show served up as a phone call yesterday, amidst a dog-like hangover courtesy of The List party. Then a wild old thing called Food. 

Today, The Grand Old Opera House Hotel at the Trav which was great fun. Havana Street Party, Bristo Square, also great fun. And then a French theatrical take on Dogville, Dusk, updated, relevance-d and given a happier ending. Though it's all relative.

Tech tomorrow for crackers and as I'm such a lacklustre advocate, more info here. First Fringe show in five years - imagine!

I love Edinburgh in August. 

frisson has been and gone. 

The online version ran two weeks ago. The real life version ran last week, impeded by a bout of sickness amongst the cast which led to a spike in my heart rate and the cancellation of the first real life night to avoid potential infection of either cast or audience in its wake.

I feared we'd surrendered our right to any reviewers with the cancellation so was touched and extremely gratified that those booked in for Tuesday were able to reschedule. It's been a busy few weeks in Edinburgh theatre land so this was not something to take for granted.

The real life audiences were compact in number but enthusiastic in their reception which was obviously lovely.

But the moment I must keep in my heart for all time came to pass like this. 

An email from the wonderful Hannah who's been managing the show's PR. "Stop press. Joyce McMillan wants a ticket for Thursday night's show."

Someone called Joyce M had watched the online show but we had no sense of whether it was The Joyce or some other Joyce.

Thursday's show and there she was and I was darting around on the door taking tickets etc. It was hard not to fawn. 

I felt that she chortled her way through the show but this could have been wishful thinking. 

Post-show, I thrust a list of the people involved into her hand. She said (I think. My memory is hazy as this was all just much too much): "so what is your role in this?"

I said I was the writer.

She said, "ah, so you're cmfwood."

"Claire", I said swiftly,  confronted starkly by my pretension. "I always wanted to be AJPTaylor, hence the cmf. Silly really."

And she said:

"More like e e cummings, no? With all the lower case."

Like an idiot, like she was comparing me to the wild beauty of his words, I dipped my head. "I'll take that", graciously.

"I enjoyed it very much," she said. "Thank you."

THANKING ME!

And then she was away and the ground could have swallowed me up then and there and I would've been happy.

Last post. 5 Dec. Happy new year, readers! If there are any of you left. 

This time, I've been busy doing this. 

And I saw an extremely clever but for me, emotionally unengaging show tonight as part of Manipulate. Hark at me damning someone else's Saturday nights toiling away on ticketing systems and updating websites. 

Last post. August 28. That's a very poor show. 

In my defence, I've written two plays and applied for more things that I didn't win/get in the meantime. And seen a few bits and pieces. So I've not been idle but that's hardly the point. 

I'll try harder.

I think I have seen 56 things over the past three weeks, between a few things in the Book Festival, the EIF, a rogue event in the Film Festival and of course, the Fringe.

I feel culturally gorged. But not sated. What a delicious feast.