So it’s just over a year since I found out I’d been selected as one of the Writersroom 10. It’s a sunny morning in North London and I’m finishing up on a draft of EastEnders before I can head up to Newcastle to join the other nine writers for a showcase of our short plays at Live Theatre.
It’s a normal day. I’m sat in my writing suit (Primani jogging trousers and hoody) tapping away at my laptop. Rachel De-Lahay (one of the other writers) has text me when and where to meet her at the station as she knows I’m a muppet and will most probably miss my train, get lost, or forget about the whole thing.
Then I hear the sound of voices from downstairs, my housemate has gone to work so it can’t be him, I grab the only thing near me to protect myself (massive cigarette filled ashtray next to laptop) and creep down the stairs to exact some Vinny Jones style vigilante justice on the dim-witted intruder… only to find my landlord and two guys checking the smoke detectors.
If this story has a moral it’s that the daily routine of writers is fundamentally boring. You sit at a desk all day trying to kick start your imagination (see above for the onset of my own Steven Segal type adventure I thought I was about to embark on). That’s why it’s so great when someone asks you to come and see a performance of your work. Even better if it means hooking up with another nine writers in a city you’ve never been to before and chewing the fat with some of the wonderful staff from ´óÏó´«Ã½ Writersroom North – I’m looking at you Henry ‘Tequila’ Swindell and Usman Mullan.
So, I’ll skip the train ride as you don’t want to hear three hours of me and RDL bitching about nights out and what theatre is producing the most dirge in town at the moment (standard writer train journey fodder).
We get to the pre theatre meal at the adjoining restaurant to Live and see that Kate Rowland (the ´óÏó´«Ã½â€™s equivalent of Phileas Fog) has managed to stop by even though she is in the middle of one of her epic writing event tours across the country. After some catching up with the other writers, mocking of Paul ‘Newcastle’s Own’ Charlton for not being able to attend and making sure Amman had recovered from the last time I saw him (3am two weeks ago on my sofa before my house mate lobbed him and Ishy Din out of my house for being too loud) we head into the theatre to see our pieces brought to life!
The brief for this part of the attachment was simple enough. Ten minute piece using title ‘THE PARADE’ as inspiration. Only problem with these things is that when you give ten writers the same title they might come up with very similar plays. Fortunately this group are about as diverse as you can get. From a play about two rival pound shop owners going to war, to skin bleaching at a beauty salon, these piece spanned the length and breadth of the country, tackled themes and characters in different styles, using different forms and provided a cracking night of entertainment.
It’s an incredibly exciting thing to be involved with something that has the ´óÏó´«Ã½ name sat next to it. I’ve been writing for years now and it’s only in the last 14 months things have actually felt like they are going somewhere. So to take part in this event and this night was amazing, and whilst we sipped our half a lager and limes (being dignified practitioners) in the bar afterwards we were all in agreement just what a fantastic process this attachment had been. A joint commission from the ´óÏó´«Ã½ and nominating theatre, two resource days full of industry knowledge on all the ´óÏó´«Ã½ departments we could hope to write for, ending in this wonderful celebration of ten very different voices on the Live Theatre stage.
If John Yorke was reading this he would tell me this blog needs pathos now or you’ll forget it. So, to recap; 14 months ago I was skint, I was just about to move out of London and live in a tent by a fishing lake for six months. I sent a play in to the ´óÏó´«Ã½ before I left communication and electricity behind. Now I’m writing for my favourite soap on ´óÏó´«Ã½ 1. I’ve just had a play on at Live theatre. And I’ve made nine new writer friends to remind me where and when I need to be somewhere….and buy me tequila slammers even though I’m far too old to drink them and keep my dignity.
Finish that script. Make it say how YOU feel about the world YOU live in.
Make your audience laugh, make them cry, make them listen.
Send it in.
Live that dream.
What have you got to lose?
Peace.
Kenny Emson
Ps Sorry about the grammar. I blame my teachers.
We launched the Writersroom 10 scheme in December 2011 as a new partnership programme for writers and theatres - marking the importance of theatre as the first home for many brilliant writers in the UK, and investing in writers and new theatre writing at an early stage.
Kenny Emson was nominated by the and was one of ten winners on the writersroom 10 scheme, which brought together some of the most exciting emerging writers from around the country.The 10 writers were part of a year-long development scheme and received a seed-commission of £1000.
The Parade at was one of the many partnership events involving the Writersroom 10 and formed part of Live Theatre’s writing festival. It showcased ten brand new short works-in-progress by the ´óÏó´«Ã½â€™s Writersroom 10 group.
Kenny Emson's Play 'Somewhere between a News Clipping and the Gossip Pages' will broadcast on ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio 3's , on Friday 13th April, at 10pm.