Tuesday, March 25, 2008


I woke up in a sweat this morning - from a dream about the play.

I'd arrived at the first workshop, expecting to see a director - Michael or Jon - and the actors. Instead I walked into a crowded room, at least 100 people, and I didn't know any of them. I could see Michael Gow standing under a spotlight, talking to the crowd, opening up discussion about my play. And then they began ...

'I don't get it.'
'Why would Martha say that? It makes no sense.'
'Who wrote this rubbish?'

I was looking from face to face as they loomed over me, shiny and plastic, criticising.

'It's a new draft,' I tried to say. 'I didn't think anyone would see it. I didn't know it was going to be public.'

I thought I was going to vomit. The vulture faces started spinning and ... I woke up.

I know it was just a dream, of the classic anxiety variety, but I also know that I will be in a cold sweat when I do have to walk into the room for the workshop. The thought of being revealed as a charlatan, a wannabe, a hopeless case, a useless writer ... I feel sick thinking about it. It's as bad as going for an audition.

I know I will be able to deal with whatever's said in the room, with whatever feedback I get, once I get it. If it's bad, I'll work through it and try to improve. I can't imagine that it could be as harsh and unconstructive as my mind dreams it.


Joanne Sandhu said...

Hi Katherine, finally got a chance to look at your blog and I think you're doing great. I like 'Tinder' as a title. Imaginative and provocative.
Love, Joanne Sandhu

Katherine Lyall-Watson said...

Hi Joanne,
lovely to have you here!
Thanks for the feedback.
Katherine x