I read somewhere on the tinternet that you should never be negative in a blog or admit that you have never written a blog before…
My name is Lucy Gallagher and I’m an alcoholic (now)… and the writer of dark comedy Fats and Tanya. This IS the first blog I’ve ever written and as I sit here assessing what kind of state I’m in: head hung low, eyes drooping, seeing quadroopal… I ask myself, am I having the hereditary stroke I’ve been expecting? (father had one a few years ago – still alive, praise the lord!) … and my inner voice assures: “No, Lucy! Don’t be silly, luv! Alas, you are just absolutely cream-crackered!”
This “writing a play” malarkey is, for want of no better a phrase: b,b,b,b,ball-breaking – especially when it’s been untimely mixed in with a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants career in teaching and my never-ending battle for Mum of the Year award (a boy, he’s 7).
On a deeper personal level, I now have more grey hairs, wrinkles in progress and an extra globule tyre from tapping away in front of the computer for hours on end, and the sheer lack of exercise, AND too many spicy Indians! …TAKEAWAYS, I hasten to add. Let’s try and avoid any vicious rumours developing about Ravi Meah and I (Ravi’s the co-writer of the play and actually, he’s Bangladeshi not Indian, oh, the ignorance!) Thus, some of the effects of what has been a stressful and intense year of hard core writing are most likely permanent and irreversible. Funny enough, my fingers feel fit and healthy… every cloud! Oh, and my friends and family?… My beautiful friends and family … I’ll be back… one day… I promise… once it’s all done and dusted.
I wonder how many people are still reading the blog now? One? Two, perhaps? Jesus, I better get on to the positives quick! The POSITIVE: d-d-d-d-drum roll… what’s being created through ‘Fats and Tanya’ is pretty special. I’m not just saying that. When I first took it to Mike Elliston and Dominic Kelly at salon:lab it was a dialogue between two women – some bits funny, some sad, but not necessarily convincing. They have helped me transform it into a play, a piece of theatre with a number of messages, and an overriding message of hope –I’m currently re-writing, re-structuring, playing about with it, butchering it sometimes. Yet, it’s so different from its infancy, it’s unreal. A proper drama.
Now, I’ve got “The Bug”. The “I don’t give a shite about doing the dishes, I need to settle down and finish this masterpiece” bug. So, there. I shall continue. For all its intensity, just talking about the play in this way makes me passionate. I moan about the work I have to do, but I love this really. I love it and I foresee longevity. I’m already writing another!