Proof

Definition: denoting a trial impression of a page or printed work

Definition: evidence establishing a fact or the truth of a statement.

I received the proof copy of my novel. This established the fact that my novel is soon to be published.

I am stupidly proud of it and of course, there will be the fanfare of a proper launch and endless tweets/social media posts and yada yada yada when the time comes (there are some typesetting errors to correct which is frustrating but part of the process), but for now… just enjoying the feel of it.

Queer Spaces Revisited

In a previous blog post I pondered on what ‘queer spaces’ are

My contribution to the Roots Touring production of ‘Queer Spaces Live!’ was a reflective piece on, specifically, dyke bars I frequented in my younger days. I spoke about how the UK community/communities of queers fought so hard for the right for any and all spaces to be inclusive but we hadn’t, arguably, considered what we might lose once they are.

Thanks to the amazing Tyler Whiting for the photo!

Almost all of the spaces I came out into and grew up in have gone.  Some we are well rid of (Wednesday evening community centre women’s discos, bring your own booze, finished at 10:00, dodge the mean feral youths who waited for us on the way out) but other spaces were places of growth and love and fun and adventure.  They were places to meet and belong.  They were uniquely lesbian and gay spaces – The Alex, Vox and Sill in Hull, The Marlborough, the Candy Bar and Revenge in Brighton. Four of those venues are closed.  One is no longer a dyke bar but advertises as ‘everyone is welcome’. Only one specifically identifies as a specifically gay venue. 

Does it matter?  Should we lament the loss of so many distinctly queer spaces or celebrate that everywhere is potentially our space now?

I don’t know 

What was fascinating about the Queer Spaces Live! production was that each of the performers spoke of claiming space in one way or the other, but a thread throughout each was that the spaces needed to be claimed. Whilst people were radically empowered to take the spaces there was a centrality to the essential nature of the spaces as queer; as distinct; as vulnerable.

The performances within Queer Spaces Live! Suggested to me that Queer Space is still, on the one hand contested for its challenge and, on the other hand, a place for forming identity. Queer spaces are still places of resistance. Do they need to be distinctly queer spaces to offer this?

I don’t know – but I think so

The Roots Touring Company created a queer space.  It is what it does.  For me there was an exciting circularity to the space being created and what the performers did with it – and that it felt like a space of bold activism as well as the creation of beautiful art.

I must give a shout out to the people involved.  Oh. My. Days.  My colleague performers were extraordinarily talented – and generously supportive of my own lack of performing talent (note: I am now a BAFTA level talent on acting ‘milling about’ thanks to their teaching – I owe you guys 🙂 ).

• Phoenix Andrews
• Emma Bates
• Joy Cruickshank
• Erin Enfys
• Arden Fitzroy
• Max Percy
• Ela Portnoy
• Eliza Beth Stevens

presented stories of growth and love and challenge and joy and each were MAGNIFICENT.  Keep an eye out for these names because they are uniquely and breathtakingly talented and they are going to take over the whole world.  I can hardly believe I had the privilege and joy of sharing a stage with them.

None were forced to be involved in the performance.  Like me, they chose to be in it – to invest their time and energy and share their powerful, compelling stories and lay themselves open to critique. It seems fairly safe to presume that also like me, they thought this was an important space to create.  Were we individually and collectively invested in the creation of a specifically queer space?

(Eliza and Ela at Portal Bookshop in York. An inspiration for Eliza’s monologue)

I think so

I have to also give a shout out to the team that made Queer Spaces Live! happen. Producer Steven Atkinson, Director Ali Pidsley and Dramaturg Frazer Flintham. Despite the fact that I am literally old enough to be their mother and we play for different teams, I have a bit of a crush on all of them. A magician once told me that magic only looks convincingly effortless with hours and hours of work and commitment to being the best. These three created magic. They held the making of the performance so carefully and safely they enabled us all to grow. I am a better human being, more confident, and proud of myself because of their talent and I will literally never forget them for enabling me to perform

(Steven, Frazer and me after rehearsals).

Queer spaces provide us with places we can be ourselves and lower our defences.  They give us a place for celebration and being together – and also places where we can value each other.

Queer spaces are where we are but not everywhere we might be, is a queer space

Until we can be confident about inclusivity, queer spaces have a crucial role in resistance to oppression.

Thanks to Roots Theatre Touring Company for creating one.  

Writing good dialogue: Unexpected learning outcomes from my first competition entry

My blog last year required me to achieve two outcomes a month: I would firstly read and review a book and secondly I would research and write about an event. Each of these activities would be based upon listings in the Guardian newspapers ‘Literary Year Ahead’. That year long blog was something of an adventure of learning, primarily. I would be reading books I would not ordinarily read and researching events I had previously known little or nothing about. Another driver was my effort to commit to writing regularly – I am a terrible writing procrastinator. As writing plans go it was easy to achieve and a genuinely enjoyable journey of learning.

For this years blog I decided to actively work at developing my writing skills and craft.
Each month I would choose a writing competition with a submission that took me out of my writing comfort zone. For my first submission I chose to submit a play.

I have never written a play before – indeed I have never even considered writing a play.  As I wrote about on my blog, I did a little research before putting words down on the page and fortunately I had an idea for a story which seemed to fit the format.

I expected to learn from the exercise but I did not expect to enjoy it as much as I did.

Writing a play is hard. Thinking in dialogue is draining. Every word has to feel ‘just right’ because if it is not, the story telling becomes clunky and awkward. There is no wiggle room for filler, description or explanation in a play script – dialogue must serve a specific purpose and advance the story. Voices must be distinct and consistent to the character. Characters too must be relevant to the completion of the story arc. I had a character in my first draft who I could almost see – I liked her, and liked some of the dialogue I had written for her but I came to realise, she was not needed and the character was culled in the final draft.

As hard as it was I discovered an unanticipated joy in writing dialogue. I think I have an ear for it. I have no idea whether I will ever write a play script again but without doubt, the exercise has fine tuned my approach to dialogue in my fiction writing more broadly.

At a writing retreat a few months ago, a fellow ‘retreater’ said he was writing a TV comedy script. He had written several episodes but had a couple more to write. He intended to submit it with a hope for production. At the time I simply noted this with no real feelings about it one way or the other. Now I think he is a hero! What an awe-inspiring aspiration and what incredible effort. I have a new appreciation for script writers.

Whether the words I put down constitute ‘a play’ remains to be seen and I do not imagine for a moment that it will do well in the competition, but as an exercise it had outcomes far beyond the simple achievement of a script.