I was selected to be part of the 4th Nuffield Theatre Writers Group back in November 2007 and having been travelling to Southampton every couple of weeks since the end of January 2008, I’m now over half way through the programme.
I am building up a huge file of all the things you’ll find in a very good professionally produced play, whether you’d be conscious of them or not; the idea being to take my pick and include as many as possible when writing my own plays.
At each of our fortnightly sessions we are given excellent examples by our mentor, the renown director John Burgess, and once he has read them, we then discuss them. We then get twenty minutes or so to write our own scene utilising the element we’ve been discussing and then we all read out our efforts.
Our homework is then to spend time doing that particular exercise again, having learnt from what we have all done in the meeting, which is then read out at the beginning of the following session.
And sprinkled in with this fortnightly homework is a series of assignments designed to show the development of our skills.
Our first was to use ‘overheard conversation’ to create our own short two scene piece. It was to be just two pages. I can remember walking around Morrisons with a dictaphone and then playing it back when I got home, listening for that nugget, and then creating characters and scenes by using ‘overheard’ sentences of the speech I’d recorded.
I now always carry my Moleskien notebook around with me wherever I go, so I can jot down any great examples of overheard speech, or indeed any ideas and notes. Very useful.
Next was a ten minute play in three acts. I interviewed some friends from the Riverside Youth Theatre over the summer last year. This sparked off an idea and I was able to write the short play Room 20 about a year 10 student in isolation for bullying. The play was performed by Actors & Writers, London for a competition in Hammersmith.
Sadly, it wasn’t ten minutes – it was nearer fifteen in performance, but I’d learnt from it, and it was well recieved. (It came third.)
On the day we handed in our short plays, we were given four months to complete our next assignment: a radio play.
The whole objective was to write a play suitable for broadcast in the Radio4 afternoon slot. And this of course meant it had to be 44 minutes long.
It’s hard enough coming up with an idea, let alone writing to length. If I’m honest my problem is writing too much. Most of what I have written has been too long, too complicated, and at times overwritten, so I was going to have to work at it.
We were given many examples of scripts broadcast as the Radio4 afternoon play, including work directed by John, and plays written by Sarah Daniels, Judith Johnson and Stephen Wakelam.
We were also given two plays written by past group members, one of which earned its author a commission for a new play, the other was actually produced and broadcast on Radio4 – no pressure there then.
It was comforting to be reminded by John that the Theatre was spending good money on us. With the room hire costs, photocopying, his fees, etc, the Theatre was making a considerable investment in each of us – there is no charge to us the writers for our two year programme. I soon realised if I was good enough for the theatre to invest in me, then I’d better come up with the goods.
It took me a month to get an idea for the play, and three months to write it.
I thought you might like to know how I managed my attempt; a struggle – but I got there in the end. And if you just happen to be a member of the 5th or maybe even the 6th Nuffield Theatre Writers Group, here’s some encouragement for you. Yes it was daunting. But, trust me, you can do it. Well I did it, so why can’t you?
Firstly, for me, there was the, for want of a better word, ‘format’ of the play. How was I going to do it?
Well, it wasn’t until I started reading some of the examples we were given that I realised there were loads of different ways of doing it.
The format that most struck me was one used by Sarah Daniels. I had three of her plays to read and each was written in very much the same way. Sarah’s play, The Sound Barrier, had the most effect on me.
(Okay, just googled it, hoping to include a link to some info – didn’t expect to get a link to the script at the BBC writersroom! – Please read. It is brilliant!)
The ‘devise’ or ‘format’ Sarah has used in this radio play, and what really struck me, was that of having three basically unconnected characters talking in monologues.
I say ‘unconnected’ because although they talk about other people in their lives as well, they wouldn’t necessarily have known of each others existence if it wasn’t for a fourth character who connects them. This fourth character is in fact the main character around which the story evolves, bringing the other characters together as the play progresses.
Now here’s the clever bit. This fourth character is silent. She doesn’t speak. We only hear about her and her story through the monologues of the other three. This had a profound effect on me. And I knew I was going to end up writing something like this too.
So what was I going to write?
Well, back at the end of November 2008 the idea formed from a few different directions at roughly the same time, and then took on a whole new life of its own as the writing began – when the characters start talking off they go in their own world, and who knows where they’ll end up?
Firstly I wanted to write about someone who was experiencing bipolar, but didn’t know about it. Basically me when I was a teenager – I know I’m not the first writer to draw on personal experiences since it’s a good starting point, though I admit I need to get past that now.
I experienced a mild hypomanic episode a couple of days later and ended up going for a long walk and subsequently getting lost. The idea solidified and I ended up writing the first monologue. In it I had my ‘silent’ and indeed troubled character, an as then unnamed young man of about 15/16, as well as one of the three talking characters, NATHAN, who I knew to be a neighbour of the teenager.
I was exited and posted the scene in my blog.
It did frighten me though. I’d not written like that before, nor had I read anything written in that way – what I now know to be the present continuous tense. I certainly hadn’t envisioned the whole play being written in that style, and was certainly concerned: a) Could I keep it up it throughout the whole piece? And b) Would it work anyway?
As it happens I did keep it up, though it was very hard, since it is not a natural way of writing (nor reading) though hearing it does sound very natural. And yes, it does work.
Soon an MSN chat with a member of the Riverside Youth Theatre about the music of David Bowie resulted in the story line and characters developing.
We were talking about Space Oddity and I subsequently learnt that the song is the first in a trilogy of songs by Bowie about the fictional astronaut Major Tom. I remembered Ashes to Ashes but had never heard of the third song, Hallo Spaceboy.
I was even more suprised to discover the song, when released as a single, was a remix by the Pet Shop Boys. – My exact thought ‘Since when did the Pet Shop Boys do a Bowie Remix?’ subsequently made its way into the play!
I ended up playing the song over and over again on YouTube, then bought the Best of Bowie CD with all three songs on, and then had them on constant repeat in an iTunes playlist as I wrote.
The play soon developed with the main character being named ‘David Bowie John Walker’ by his Bowie obsessed father. The other two characters soon appeared: David’s mother, ANNA, and his friend HAYDEN. And it was then ‘working titled’ Spaceboy.
Monologue writing in the ‘present continuous tense’ (I am/he is -ing) soon became pretty intense. The story (with the bipolar idea being superseded) developed for a while – and then it took a major turn!
David ended up doing something that completely surprised me – in fact, it totally horrified me and I had no idea where this thing had come from. (I wanted to sensor myself and not let him do it, but am pleased I didn’t.)
Reading the play over and over when more had been written, it became clear that what he had done was actually alluded to in that very first scene I had written, though of course I had no idea at the time. It is weird how a single word written in that scene could have such a profound effect on the whole play.
And no, I’m not telling you the word. You’ll have to work it out!
Everything was going great; the plot was simple, and along with the characters, developing nicely, though I was becoming painfully aware that my three quarters of an hour radio play was heading for an epic hour and half.
I was writing way too much. Not good.
I began editing and cutting, something I wouldn’t normally do until I had finished the actual writing, but this was becoming a necessity. I was getting carried away writing scenes which, whilst good and relevant to the plot, weren’t entirely necessary.
And then realisation dawned. Having finished the first draft, I had ‘Alex Leopard’ (the voice of my Mac) read the play to me.
Oh dear: At something over 70 minutes, it was still far too long!
This was agonising. There is only so much cutting you can do. And it was plain to me that cutting a third of the play was going to be a tall order. Very tall. Especially when I’d already been cutting and editing whilst writing the first draft.
I admit, I gave up. Putting back some of the scenes I’d already cut could easily have given me a perfectly good ninety minute play. But of course, that wasn’t the assignment. We had to hand in a forty-four minute radio play. No more, no less.
Luckily for me, I had completed this first draft by the middle of January and still had a least six weeks left before the deadline.
I had a meeting with John before our next group session primarily for him to give feedback on my ten minute piece, Room 20. Having said that the reason we hadn’t got together earlier was because it was a good piece of writing and should be included in my portfolio of work to present to theatres when I had finnished the course, meant there was little else to discuss. I moved swiftly on to the problem of the radio play, explaining that I was still writing too much.
John, as always, gave me the opportunty to think. I was convinced I needed to write another play, but John said if I was going to do that, shouldn’t I at least try to rewrite the one I already had? Since the characters and plot were already there, could I not attempt to rewrite the play and tell the story in a completely different way and so meet the 44 minute requirement? In effect he wanted me to give it a go, regardless. Maybe it couldn’t be done with this particular story, and that would be fine too, but at least I would have found that out.
Little did I know how important that meeting and John’s words would become. The exercise would prove to be invaluable.
I agonised for days. I looked at it from every angle. I rewrote scenes, cut scenes, rearranged scenes, (I have a truly excellent piece of writing software for my Mac that allows me to do this with ease) but still I could only shave ten minutes at the most.
I even looked at my beloved three character monologue format and considered writing actual scenes with dialogue in the more conventional ‘radio drama’ way. Sadly this would also mean I would have to dispense with my clever use of the present continuous tense – something I was very loathe to do as it wasn’t until I had the play read to me that I realised by writing in this tense the characters actually discover what is happening to them at exactly the same time as the listener does.
I was soon exhausted and very concerned.
And then, at 3am one morning, again seemingly from nowhere, an idea came. A radical and heartbreaking idea, but an idea none the less.
Since the play was written in monologues, with the printed out script in front of me and each speech beginning on a new page, it was easy to lay it all out and move the monologues around on my office worktop. The first time I did this I was able to see where I could condense the ‘timeline’ of the play – but now a new idea was appearing.
I gathered up and put aside all the monologues of one character; basically deleting David’s friend HAYDEN – and in one cruel swipe I had condemed my favourite character to a life of non-existence.
Since HAYDEN was unknown to both ANNA and NATHAN it was a simple thing to do. Surprisingly, and at the time rather worryingly, it made no difference to the story. In effect, HAYDEN’s (important) part of the plot, was indeed a story in itself.
The result, with some minor editing, was a 44 minute radio play consisting of alternating monologues from ANNA and her neighbour, NATHAN. In fact HAYDEN’s absence actually enhances the play’s story.
I was pleased.
And at the end of February I duly handed in the newly named If I Fall.
I then looked long and hard at HAYDEN – I simply wasn’t prepared to let him go. I loved writing him, and he meant a lot to me. I worked a little more on him, writing some additional monologues to give his (and indeed David’s) story and character more depth.
At the same time I discovered by chance a writing competition that was looking for 30 minute plays. HAYDEN’s monologues totalled half an hour and so the subsequently named Moondust Will Cover Me was entered.
Put both plays together, with a little jiggling, and you end up with a new play. To be honest I’ve done this in two ways.
One way is to present it in two parts, If I Fall first (with the final scene getting moved to the end of the play) and Moondust Will Cover Me second. The first part tells the story, the second reveals the (dark) undercurrent that flows through it.
The alternative version is to have the monologues rearranged back into chronological order as originally conceived, though I will need to work a little more on this by adding back in a couple of deleted scenes since there are a couple of occasions where HAYDEN ends up with consecutive monologues which spoils the flow.
Anyway I haven’t decided which is the best way to do it, and they both really need a reading to see whether either or even both will work. Both versions will give a different slant.
In either version, this full length piece, telling the story of 16 year old David Walker, is titled Spaceboy.
I’ll warn you, it’s dark, partically HAYDEN’s part of the story. In fact I had no idea how dark until some close friends pointed it out. It seems I’m good at doing ‘dark’.
Anyway, time to bring this post to close – with a little twist.
Having handed in my play on the Thursday, I then had a phone call the following Monday whilst whizzing around Morrisons with Richard doing the food shopping.
It was John, and he had just read If I Fall. He was pleased. Very pleased. And was saying my radio play was, and I quote, (because this has been ringing in my head ever since) “broadcast quality”.
He was phoning to ask if it was okay for him to send it on to a producer. Well what would you say?
Naturally, it doesn’t mean that my play will be produced and broadcast on Radio 4 in fact the chances are slim, incredibly so, but the fact that my mentor considered the play to be of ‘broadcast quality’ and thought it good enough to be sent straight on to a producer, does a heck of a lot for one’s confidence, I can assure you. I am so pleased.
I have no idea what will happen to Spaceboy and it’s component parts – I did have the notion of producing the full work as a stage play, even entering the individual parts as one act plays in October’s Woking Drama Festival, but following casting and venue hiring problems, basically came to the conclusion that my producing it wasn’t meant to be.
With the help of talking it all through with a good friend, I realised I really need to concentrate on my writing, and not be distracted by branching off into directing and producing my own work as I have done previously – at least not at this stage. If my work is good enough, then someone else will be happy to take the risks in producing it.
Onwards and upwards, as they say. Having handed in our radio plays, we were straight away given our next assignment – write a full length play. 90 minutes without an interval or 120 with. Deadline: End of Jan 2010.
And once I get the idea, and there is very little brewing at the moment, I’m guessing I’ll need about six months to write it, so that’s the rest of 2009 sorted for me then!
Anyway, that’s this post done. And if anything does happen with If I Fall or Moondust Will Cover Me or indeed with Spaceboy, you’ll be the first to know!
With many thanks to Tom Addy and David Bowie – Inspiration when you need it!
