You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Street Theatre’ tag.

Bloody hell, I’m about to do something I’ve never done before.

Starting at 2pm tomorrow, I will be spending two weeks straight at The Street Theatre in Canberra undertaking a creative development of my new full-length play with songs, which has the working title THE STORY OF THE OARS.

What does this mean?

Professional actors reading the text as it currently stands. A director and dramaturge analysing every scene, sentence, and word. Body explorations. A music consultant investigating opportunities and challenges. Me passing out from the thrill – and glorious work – of it all.

Due to COVID-19, it will be happening online. Pictured is my set up at home. Complete with angel and (hint of) bull talisman.

Frighteningly, at 5pm (AEST) on Friday 15 May the ‘doors’ will open and you can experience a professional reading of the play. And get to give me and the creative team feedback.

Shit.

Tickets, which are free but limited, can be found here.

I have been through this process before. The song cycle for which I wrote the libretto, THE WEIGHT OF LIGHT, also went through a First Seen creative development. However, because that work was already at a fairly developed stage, it was a much shorter process – 2 days. Also, we already had a full score, by the wonderful James Humberstone. This time around, we’re developing the project in a much more incremental way, aiming to get the text as finished as it can be before we move into the music-collaboration stage. That’s not to say this will be a better process, just a different process for different projects.

So what is THE STORY OF THE OARS actually about?

Summer somewhere on the east coast of Australia, 1987: three teenage brothers drown on a large ephemeral lake. Thirty years later, with the lake now dry, four strangers unburden themselves of the truth. Their lives will never be the same. A play with songs, THE STORY OF THE OARS is about the repercussions of childhood, and how facts have their way of revealing themselves. It’s also an exploration of class, privilege, and the power of place to enchant, repel, and mend.

Of course, massive thanks to the unstoppable folk at The Street Theatre, and Create NSW for supporting an earlier development.

Now, where’s a crate-load of whiskey…

As this year, a publication year for your old Goulburn mate, comes to an end, I’d just like to say thanks so much to all the lovely folk who have been a part of the BODIES OF MEN adventure.

Thanks to those who attended the launch of the novel back in May at the wonderful Street Theatre in Canberra.

Thanks to those who attended my speaking gigs, in bookshops, libraries, and schools.

Thanks to those who have messaged me with photos of the book in various places around Australia and in New Zealand – it’s such a simple gesture but it means a lot.

Thanks to those who have emailed or messaged me or come up to me at events and shared their experience of the novel. So very much appreciated.

Thanks to those who interviewed me and helped find an audience for my funny little war novel.

Thanks to those who have written responses to the novel online and then shared them. Some members of the literary community are just amazing, like Sue Terry from Whispering Gums – check out Sue’s summary of authors who have blogs, which includes a little mention of this here place in the online world.

Special thanks to all the many bookshops who stock the novel – you are bona fide heroes.

Special thanks also to my magic-making agent, Gaby Naher of Left Bank Literary in Sydney, and my very smart and hardworking publisher, Robert Watkins at Hachette Australia.

What have I learned?

To be frank, I have no idea, but here are some thoughts, which may or may not end up being true:

  • confidence is a trickster
  • publication is the fullstop at the end of the sentence
  • for the stories that find a home, it was always impossible to predict where that home was going to be
  • accept invitations that make you feel as though you’re going to faint
  • it is better to make art that no one sees than to not have made art
  • success is 10% talent, 20% luck, 50% hard work; no one knows what makes up the remaining 20%
  • doubt is a loyal friend and is more helpful than you may realise.

What happens now?

After a bit of a summer break, my mind will turn to other projects, although I do have a BODIES OF MEN-related event in Queensland in April, just in time for Anzac Day 2020 – it will be at Avid Reader and with authors Melanie Meyers and Simon Cleary and moderated by the tireless Cass Moriarty. We’ll be talking all things writing war.

See you next year (if we in Australia survive the Bushfire Apocalypse).

If you happen to be in Canberra on Thursday 16 May (I mean, who wouldn’t be) it’ll be terrific to see you at the launch of BODIES OF MEN: 6pm at the fabulous Street Theatre. There will be wise words from the amazing Robyn Cadwallader, author of THE ANCHORESS and BOOK OF COLOURS, and award-winning slam poet CJ Bowerbird. There will also be books. And booze!

The event is free. To RSVP, drop a line to publicity@hachette.com.au

In other news, due to generous and hard-working folk, there have been some lovely profiles, interviews and reviews – all appreciated:

Finally, thank you to all those who’ve sent me pictures of BODIES OF MEN (so to speak) in bookshops around Australia. I’m loving seeing the novel on shelves, and I’m also loving the tireless bookshops who are stocking it.

Gratitude to all.

Peace x

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 191 other followers