Blood and Bones. Play writng in the 21st Century.

Blood and Bones Theatre

Theatre is the oldest expression of some of the deepest human instincts.  The playwright’s job is to establish the complex process of thought that leads to that expression.  Yet in the post-rational twenty-first century just when they’re needed, many of the enormous possibilities of drama have been lost to a welter of superficial acrobatics, music and visual effect while the actual skills of playwriting - character construction and dialogue and as a vehicle for understanding the fundamentals of human nature - have been downgraded such that the playwright him or herself is thought of as mere pen holder for other theatre makers. Playwrights are kept at arm’s length from the creative process by the dread shadow of The Dramaturg and the play reading committee.

This series is not a handy how-to-do-it guide but rather a personal meditation on the place of the playwright in contemporary theatre.   It suggests that if theatre is to survive it needs to re-engage with its audiences by offering something to challenge the immediate attraction of film, television and other narratives. It needs to find its soul again and offer what is its unique properties.  To do this it needs a powerful cohort of playwrights and it needs them once again at the heart of the playmaking process.  Playwrights like me need to stop titting around with ten minute sketches and applying cap in hand to futile competitions.  We need to be bolder, braver and prouder of what we do because I firmly believe we can contribute in some way to getting the world back to a more humane, rational way of progressing.

I am particularly fortunate in that I was able to learn my craft in what, with hindsight, appears to be a golden age of theatre.  I have had opportunities to work alongside great actors and within companies who believed in the essential power of drama. I have been able to learn from people who knew their craft and I hope I have been able to pass that on in writing workshops and as a director working with young and established actors to this day.

So, if you are a playwright, actor, director. Audience member or all round lover of theatre come with me on my ramble through my own head as I try to understand what it is I’ve been playing with for the last forty years

Chapter 12 - Belief, Bias and Common Humanity

Filling the Empty Space

Skidmore and I were having a drink in a bar one evening after attending a performance of some dire piece of performance work masquerading as drama when he suddenly said “I’ve written a few pieces for the magazine at Uni, I think I’ll have a go at writing a play next.  How do I go about it? What sort of story is best for a play?  How long should it be?”  And suddenly everything goes all wobbly and the room spins round and round as in an old episode of Doctor Who.  Mind you I had been drinking home brewed scrumpy all evening but I did think this was one of those portals into those time loops where our actions are repeated over and over again for ever and I had had this conversation so many times before.

I asked, as I do every time “Why do you want to write a play?  Why not a novel or a short story or a poem?”

“There’s a competition I’d like to enter.  I definitely think I could win it.  All I want is an idea and I’ll give it a go.”

Well, that’s an answer I suppose.  Not one I wanted to hear.  Perhaps I should have phrased it differently.  “What is the idea you have that can only be expressed as a play?  What are the particular attributes of the narrative that make it so that it can only be expressed in a play?  Plays are hard work and if you could express yourself in a short story or even a haiku, you’d have a lot less heart-ache.”

But this time our young hopeful is not to be put off. “It can’t be that difficult.  You write them all the time.”

Well, yes, I couldn’t disagree.  There is no actual law against anyone having a go at such an undertaking.  And in answer to his initial enquiry I had to admit there are no actual rules about how much and what subject. And I never, ever advise people about how they should write. But I liked Skidmore for all his rather callow, erratic, exuberant approach to the world and I didn’t want him to get involved in something that might make him unhappy so I thought I might try and guide him with a few pearls.

All right, I say “How much experience do you have of theatre?  How much do you know about that unique relationship between actors and audiences?  What do you know and expect of your own relationship with the audience?”

“I don’t think I need to go into that too much.  That’s for the director to sort out.”

That is also true.  Up to a point.  Directors need to be given freedom to explore the subject and don’t need to be told how to direct a play.  Particularly by someone like Skidmore.  But that’s not what I’m driving at, either.

“So you’re saying that you don’t need to engage with the audience yourself?  You place your work before them and they like it or lump it.  A tiny bit arrogant, don’t you think?”

Skidmore frowned at that.  I don’t think he’d ever been called arrogant before.  Then he brightened as he always does in adversity. “I think you’re deliberately misunderstanding me. Anyway, the play is just the words.  I leave the gubbins to the techies.”

Now there you are wrong, young Skidmore.  Comprehensively irredeemably wrong.  Plays are not works of literature.  They are one part of a huge collaborative effort by actors, directors, lighting people, audiences, cleaners, ice-cream sellers.  That’s why I say to all new writers who have to listen to me ranting on from my stool in the corner of the bar: “Before you put pen to paper you must get to know theatre and the way it works.  You need to have all that firmly planted in your mind, the smell of sawdust and of paint, the sounds of rehearsals in a draughty hall somewhere, the anxiety of the producer that the thing is about to work.  You need to know all this because a play needs to come from the theatre and is not bolted onto it.  Have you read Peer Brook’s “The Empty Space”?”  But when I looked up, Skidmore had ceased listening and was attending to his I-phone.

The answer I should have given right from the start was, “If you want to write plays then start by getting stuck into theatre.”  I really was getting worked up.  This was a subject I had decided views on and I wasn’t going to be ignored.  “Now listen here, young fellow.  It doesn’t really matter whether it’s professional or amateur but you must understand theatre as a living, breathing organism before you can begin to think about delivering the instructions that will prod this leviathan into motion.  It also doesn’t really matter what you are going to do within the theatre.  Just be somewhere where you can observe and learn.  When I got thrown out of school I hitch-hiked to London and not knowing anything better, I went from stage door to stage door asking if there was any work to be had.  By some extraordinary fluke heard of a job as a stage hand.  It was from the vantage point of the side of the stage that I was able to watch great actors and theatre makers at work.  Later, I became a very junior stage manager in the North West of England.  It was sitting in on rehearsals in freezing cold rehearsal rooms, marking up prompt copies with coloured pencils held in shaking gloved hands that I learnt how the hidden mechanisms of plays actually work.  What paths the directors and actors took through the intricacies of scripts, how they came to understand what a play was about and how best to serve the script…”  I tailed off because Skidmore had lost interest in my c.v. altogether and had wandered off to drink tequilas with some old buddies from Uni. Leaving me to carry on musing about the subject.

Theatre is the oldest expression of some of the deepest human instincts.  The playwright’s job is to lead the complex process of thought that leads to that expression.  Yet in the twenty-first century many of the enormous possibilities of drama have been lost to a superficial welter of acrobatics, music and visual effect while the skills of playwriting, character construction and dialogue have been downgraded to that of mere pen holder for other theatre makers. For three thousand years, theatre has provided a crucible of thought and argument.  It has challenged the status quo and reflected on the great changes in society and watched civilizations come and go.  It has mocked the privileged and epicene and it has raised to our consciousness those who are oppressed and down trodden.  It has provided relief in the times of crisis and serious dialogue when things were going smoothly.  It can be both ridiculously funny and jarringly emotional.  It provides high ritual and low cunning.  But because playwriting is seen as something of a dilletante pass time, the subject of many university theses, it has lost its heart and soul.  Aspiring playwrights like Skidmore are encouraged to write ten minute sketches for competitions instead of committing the years of work necessary for real drama.

“What you want to do Young Skidmore, is devote yourself to cutting through all the obfuscation and razzamatazz and get back to the heart and soul of the thing…  Read Peter Brook… Skidmore…  Skidmore!

Chapter 11 - Belief, Bias and Common Humanity

Secrets and Lies – Inner dialogue

Some liars are so expert they deceive themselves.   -Austin O’Malley

People tell lies.  That might come as a bit of a shock to you having lived your life in your sheltered, honest-to-goodness tell-it-like-it-is neighbourhood.  But let me assure you that some people are capable of ejecting absolute eye-popping, heart-stopping, teacup-dropping humdingers of lies.  In fact, some people are so given to telling whoppers that they can’t tell where truth ends and lies begin.  And, sadly for us, neither can we.  Sometimes we find we have lived right next door to someone who has been living their whole life as a lie.  And when the police call to ask us if we suspected anything of our serial killer neighbour we say with hand on heart “We didn’t have the slightest clue, officer.  Not a whisper.  The chap was the quietest, kindest, nicest church-goer you could ever have the pleasure of sharing your gardening implements with.  Mind you, there was the time the shears came back with suspicious stains all over the blades and he said he had pricked his thumb on a rose thorn.”  And so on and so forth.  And we wonder about the clean living vegan on the other side who borrowed the electric drill once...

 What I mean to say is that we all have an inner life very little of which we share with other people.  And sometimes we find out about it and sometimes even the owner of the inner life is not aware of it.  But for an actor studying a character they are to play, it is the inner, secret life that is not written in the dialogue that they will sniff out like a truffle hound.  In the gaps that your dialogue allows, the actor will try to find the actual words that remain unspoken but which motivate and drive the character forward.  In most cases it is the secret inward dialogue that the character has with him or her self that is more important than your actual words on the page.  This is a secret world that the actor inhabits from curtain up to the final climax.  It is the place where all the debate and decision takes place.  What happens in the pauses in a play by Pinter?  The dramas, the actual material drama happens in the pauses.

The great neurologist and theatre director Jonathan Miller says   We must allow for the way in which the unconscious works and guides our speech quite unwittingly.  This doesn’t just mean the Freudian slip but the way in which our unconscious brains are working on problems that we may have quite forgotten about.  How often do we retreat into that secret world until our partner says: “You’re quiet.  What are you thinking about?”  To which our answer is usually “Nothing”.

Now here is an interesting conundrum for the playwright: how do you write something invisible and unstated? Something that the character herself has no awareness of?  The inexperienced playwright may include stage–directions.  “He crosses to the table, furrowing his brow and looking anguished.”  Well, forget that sort of thing.  The actor finds that demeaning.  It is the actor’s job in association with the director to worm out the inner dialogue.  Even less do you want to write the inner dialogue into the text.  “You look worried Harry.”  “Yes I am suffering fearful flashbacks about that car-accident in which that young girl was killed by my stupidity last year.”  “Oh dear, I hope you’re not going to brood about that over dinner.” “I probably will, although I shall attempt to put a cheery face on it.” What you must do as a writer is to make sure that you have the inner dialogue with the character yourself.  You must examine thoroughly the psyche of the character and make sure that they behave entirely truly to both their inward and outward dialogues.  There will be tiny nuances .  He or she might alter their speech by just one word to give a little hint to the outside world of the inner world.  What was it we used to say in church?  “The outer visible sign of an inward invisible force.”  Because it is surely the inner force that drives the character through the play. Think about a play like “Cat on Hot Tin Roof” where the whole structure of the play is driven by the lies that the protagonists hold close to them. This drives the characters towards the inevitable climax. This is fine detail work and requires close inspection of every single word you have written in the later drafts.

The unseen and unspoken topics that are never uttered are usually to do with shame, guilt embarrassment. They touch on status and emotional engagement.  Intentions in these areas must never be referred to directly. What’s more characters must be careful to engage in such a way to indicate whether they want to discuss these ideas or not.   The idea of opening or closing is well known to actors and improvisors.  An open question leads to a thoughtful and, possibly, lengthy reply.  “What did you think of the pas de deux in Act 2?”  Leads to a fuller discussion than the closed question: “Did you like it?” The closed question encourages a “yes” or “no” answer while an open question leads on to greater things.

I read an interesting piece in which some teacher suggested that playwrights should never employ questions as part of dialogue writing.  I think I see what she is driving at but you still have to deploy an interrogation at some point.  Obviously the clever playwright will imply the questions but we still want our interlocutor to ask “Well, did you murder Celia?” in some way or other.

Some thoughts about Status

For most people the huge self examination that goes on throughout all interactions is that of status. As soon as we walk into a room of strangers we are weighing up the appearance, speech and manners of everyone else in order to establish our place in the pecking order.  Status is vital to our understanding of the world but it is not as straightforward as whether one speaks with a cultivated accent or has polished shoes, though these outward signs do play an important part.  And status is itself can be fluid and mutable.  I walk into the room and at once I am on my guard, ready for an opportunity to exhibit my knowledge or wealth. I must preserve my status at all times and, where and when possible, increase it.  This is more than just getting one over on your adversary.  One can increase one’s status whilst appearing to lose it.  Thus you can make what appears to be a gross error in manners in the eyes of one person but it may result in admiration from others.

Consider opening and closing questions in the following dialogue.  And how are Andrew and Barry asserting status through their use. Thus:

Andrew:            Cup of tea?

Barry:               Not if it’s a problem.

Andrew:            No problem.

Barry:               Are you making one for yourself?

Andrew:            Earl Grey or Typhoo?

Barry:               What are you having?

Andrew:            I’ve got both.

Barry:               Can you still get Ty-phoo?

Andrew:            I got some in for when the vicar called.

Barry:               That might be nice.

Andrew:            Last year. It’s at the back of the cupboard.

Barry:               Don’t go to any fuss.  Earl Grey would be fine.

And so on.

Andrew asks “Would you like a cup of tea?” in as off hand way as possible. Barry must never reply “Yes” or “No”. These are forceful, closing words which represent a status assertion and, as such, serve to reduce one’s own status.  (The answer “yes” Implying something like: “You are too stupid to recognise that is why I am here” and “No” implying “I wouldn’t drink that gnat’s piss you served up last time.”) Thus Barry must reply with a status neutral question: “Are you making one for yourself?” and so throwing the status problem back to Andrew who must reply with a further question: “Do you prefer Earl Grey or Typhoo?” Barry’s answer: “Can you still get Typhoo?” is nearly a status assertion in itself.  “I may have some in the back of the cupboard.” Is a winning stroke. Yet notice how long Barry can hold out without every giving a direct answer to the original question.

I’m not certain how this operates in other parts of the world but in the UK this is typical of a complex status interaction in which both speakers are fencing to an unwritten but well understood set of rules.  There are similar rules to follow in interactions concerning the weather which are really coded for one’s emotional engagement with the world and must be kept carefully guarded at all times.

It used to be axiomatic that in polite society one avoided conversing about religion, sex and politics.  In our dialogue here, of course, these are the only safe topics of conversation.

And whether this particular case is especially British or not, I’m willing to bet there will be similar sets of unwritten rules throughout the world.

Some thoughts on Irony

We all know about Dramatic Irony.  It’s a stock in trade for most playwrights wherein we let the audience in on a secret that the protagonist in the play is unaware of.  It’s where the audience nudges each other and says “he’s riding for a fall.”  Greek Drama is chock full of ironic situations because the audience should be well acquainted with the story in advance.  The best place to see it in action is in pantomime with a thousand kids screaming “It’s behind you.”  As the Dame is cheerfully unaware of the ghost creeping up behind her.

Irony is our way of distancing ourselves from problems or problematic people.  It gives us an outside view. It prevents us getting angry.  In order to be ironic about something we need to be detached or held apart from the source of our irritation.  And irony is also a signal to others who may be our allies.  Sending out an ironic smoke signal allows those who agree with our point of view to sidle up closer to us with a knowing wink without always raising the suspicions of those who are the target for the irony in the first place.  Irony sets us apart but also joins us together.  The knowing versus the ignorant.  The Insiders against the outsiders.  And here we’re stepping on dangerous territory.  As soon as we have defined an otherness then we are as guilty of shredding the network we are so wanting to build. 

So we need to be careful with an ironical inner dialogue that it’s not the playwright speaking directly to the audience over the heads of the characters in the play.

And here is another fascinating aspect.  You the playwright are in conversation with the actor and director about the inner dialogue through the words you have written, but how much do you want to reveal to the audience and at what point?  Do you want to let them into the secret at the beginning so they can watch the two levels of the play at once, or leave it to the end as a grand deus ex machine reveal?  More likely you will want to leave a little trail of clues throughout the piece that, if you are clever, they arrive at the truth at the moment the other characters discover it. It’s clever if you can pull it off.  I always find it annoying when as an audient you have realised the truth of a character in act 1 while the characters on stage don’t see it until two acts later.  You’re almost climbing out of your seat to shout “Can’t you see?  He did it?”

You, the playwright need to understand what your characters are not saying.  What topic is known by one or all of them and is being ignored?  What is, as they say, the elephant in the room?  And what sort of code are your protagonists using to avoid mentioning it?

Chapter 1. Belief, bias and common humanity. Blood and Bones. Anger and Frustration.

For me, poetry is the distillation of a moment.  A play is the distillation of a life.

There's a lot of weird stuff about.  It's only to be expected, I suppose.  With seven point odd billion individuals in the world dreaming their dreams and thinking their thoughts, a lot of stuff is bound to come out weird.   How is it that someone can invent a rather gruesome bunch of chemicals, pump it up with carbon dioxide and persuade the rest of the world to drink it?  How can they fry some pink animal derived mush, and persuade us to eat it as if it was food?  Perhaps the really weird thing here is how the rest of us let ourselves be persuaded that these things are good to eat and drink when we have much more palatable things on our kitchen shelves? Such as drain cleaner. And isn’t it interesting that the description I have just given could apply equally to a bottle of Dom Perignon as much as one of coca-cola and to a tartare aller-retour at Heston Blumental’s drive by establishment as to a Macdonald’s burger?

We seem to be living in a world completely out of joint. Trump, Brexit, Putin.  This is the age of irrationality; The Great Endarkenment. Reason and truth no longer have any meaning.   This is the world of hyper reality where we convince ourselves that what we know perfectly well to be Untruth is in fact the Truth. The world is mad and we are all mad in it.  And I'm the worst of the lot. Because I'm a writer working in the world of theatre.  A time waster at a useless piece of frippery that merely adds to the madness because it depends upon people pretending to be someone else uttering words they didn't think up in a stuffy black room that we're all kidding ourselves is the deck of a ship or a ballroom in eighteenth century Vienna or the surface of Mars.

So how does this world madness manifest itself to me sitting at my desk overlooking the bay and distracted by kittens in hats on Facebook? I see people running along the clifftop earphones clamped to their ears completely cut off and unaware of some of the most beautiful sights and sounds in the world. I see it in conspiracy theories about chem. trails and faked moon landings on the internet, in an obtuse willingness to believe the unbelievable and in an urge to take unimportant things far too seriously while there is a disengagement from the things that really are important. I see it in our cowering before self aggrandising slobs who have muscle enough to transform gossip and down-right lies into some sort of ugly narrative for a bleak future in which they become the leaders and priests and only those few will have power to rape and pillage the world with impunity and I ask why we do not rise up to take back the world for ourselves? I see it in a totally bizarre world order that places accumulation of stuff before concern for our neighbour. A world where some are enabled and encouraged to accumulate more and more and more while others are screwed down by a form of austerity not seen for a hundred and fifty years. Where this pursuit of accumulation becomes as mindless as sucking on a mouth ulcer and diverts us from the more interesting things we could be doing with the one precious life we have been granted.  And where this pursuit of greed is being promoted to us as a common good in a relentless propaganda storm from those who already have more than enough. Where what we once all owned is being snatched away and sold off to the highest bidder so that we now have to pay some obscenely adipose feline for what is ours by right while the majority of us sink further and further into poverty. Where the whole fabric of our society is being deliberately ripped apart before our uncomprehending eyes.  And I ask myself how does this all relate to our existence as a story-telling, metaphor using species?  How is it, that the very thing that has made the human species rise up and achieve the possibility of a rich and fulfilled life for us all has been subverted through advertising and propaganda and downright lies into a strangulation of the soul to bring riches beyond comprehension to a very few and misery to so many?

And how is it that the people with the greatest influence in the world are the cheap pulp fiction writers like L. Ron Hubbard who I saw with my own eyes ripping off people in Corfu while he lounged on his motor yacht draped with bikini clad lovelies and Ayn Rand whose laughable, totally daft ideas are yet again echoing down the corridors of the White House and Wall Street and whose books are being promoted to shelves of every Republican politician and industrialist in America and, I bet, on many of the fifth formers at Slough Grammar school.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s not for me to quibble about the work of other writers.  We all need to earn a bob or two and I have written a few pulpy pieces in my time and I do feel a warm glow when people say “Your play made me think differently about the world.” Where it all goes tits up is when this sort of fantasy becomes taken for a philosophy and people who should know better take it as some sort of truth.

When you have barricaded the doors and shuttered the windows against the marauding lawless mob and you sit in front of your smoky fire (You have stuffed up the chimney to avoid grenade attacks) with your arsenal of assault rifles and machine pistols What do you think about?  Who is your friend?  Because you will need a friend to talk to at least.  Perhaps you could find someone in another fortress who could trade you a parrot and you could teach that to recite “There is no such thing as society” over and over as you slowly starve to death. If you don't go mad first.

And we still see this facile fifth form fantasy ideology played out in contemporary politics despite the obvious flaws in the thinking. We cannot, in our crowded world, function alone.  The idea of retreating to a small cabin in the woods with a pile of gold and a shotgun to hold the rest of the world at bay would be laughable if it wasn’t so tragic. 

This seeping disengagement has caused some of the great human catastrophes of the twentieth century and on into our own, so why is it surprising that we writers should feel we are the ones with a duty to attempt to take back the only thing we still have in common: this language of poetry and metaphor and try and make it a tool for exploring the human experience and place it in a cockpit of the imagination where we can all use it to explore together what it is to be human and how we go about our humanity? In this era of stuff and accumulation of stuff and money for money’s sake and activity for activity’s sake where we yearn to blot out the reality of what is happening in the world with utter mountains of shit and we are so terrified of not having enough we go on accumulating and doing mindlessly until it becomes a habit, a psychosis, it is up to artists to try and cut through this fog of accumulation of junk and try to centre back on people.  Individuals.  Not individuals against the rest of the world- that nasty cut throat world of Ayn Rand or the individuals as mugs to be preyed on that L. Ron Hubbard would have us believe in, but individuals as part of the great interconnected network.  We need to put the spotlight on those individuals and their struggles.  We can use the full force of our imaginations to draw from what we know and place the evidence before our audiences.  We need to help people to speak to people about their hopes and fears, aspirations and disappointments.  We ought to help give a voice to those who are so trodden down by circumstance that they can only lash out in an unreasoned blind fury We need to sweep away all the bullshit of spectacle and superficial soap opera drama and try to explain to the world just what is going on.  We need to use our skills and imaginations to engage our audiences in new worlds of possibilities, new perspectives on this one. Nobody else is going to do it for us.  Not the newspapers or TV.  Not the bizarre world of the internet.  Not even the kittens.  Theatre is fantasy but it is fantasy concerning the real world.

If we writers were as bold as Hubbard and Rand we might be able to help turn the tide against a dreamt up fantasy world order to a more reasoned debate where we seek evidence before we believe and try to accord respect and understanding to our fellow human beings.  Not imposing something that has no basis in the world as it is.

And where once we might have satirised and railed against corrupt and venal governments and officials we now have to take on a great welling black cloud of hate, mistrust, and what I can only describe as a miasma of evil which seems to have no origin but which is suddenly pouring out as if from fissures and cracks in the very normality we see every day and every minute of every day.

Yet I see theatre reduced to an easy spectacle of acrobatics and effects. Somewhere where individuals can be defined only by the issues they represent instead of their inner immutable humanity. It is part of the distraction.  Playwriting has become reduced to the production of endless ten minute pieces for dodgy competitions judged by those who have no idea of what really constitutes theatre.  I see “Theatre makers” lauded who have never had the opportunity to explore and understand the true power of theatre.  The power of theatre that comes down to us in a shaky wavering line from the Greeks of classical antiquity and before that from a deep shamanistic desire to capture the world from our hunter-gatherer forebears.  A theatre that has encompassed Shakepeare, Racine, Behn, Goethe, Ibsen, Chekov. A theatre of Blood and Bones and sinew and Brains.  Big, deep theatre that requires not only an understanding of the world it lives in but, as importantly, a fundamental connection with the craft and skills of the stage and how it is a fundamental coming together of writer, director, technical staff, actor and audience.  It is us speaking together about the world. Theatre is power because it enables us to know things that others do not know and to visit places no one else has been and, because it is fleeting, that knowledge will be between us and no one else. Paradoxically, the illusion of theatre is no illusion. The magic of the theatre is real and enables us to experiment with the very fabric of reality that can only be achieved by those who have committed themselves unequivocally to its dark arts.

As my friend Skidmore would say "If you care that much about it, why don't you get off your arses and do something."

Where Can I Read Your Plays?

Some people have asked me where they can obtain copies of my work.  Well here is (as close a I can manage) the complete list of plays.  There are 42 including collaborations and short pieces. Some of them are obtainable from my online publishers LazyBee Scripts and one is published in paperback form by Roving Press Ltd.  The rest are in dusty old folders on my shelves. Click on the links for contacts.

Title	M/F	Outline	Running Time	Obtainable From
The Spirit of the Land	4F/4M Plus extras	The church closes and the battle begins over the next few years to transform it into an amenity for the village. Vested interests and crooked dealings lead to a final scene set in the floods of 2014 with the villagers gathering in the encircled building.	4 Acts/ 4Scenes 120 minutes	Not available for production yet
He’s Dead	2F/3M	Rose's horrific nightmares become reality when her friend Maria is fatally stabbed. As the plot twists and turns ulterior motives are gradually revealed	2 Acts 85 Mins	LazyBee Scripts
A Brief Encounter with MURDER	3F/6Mplus one	A restful holiday in a 1940s themed holiday home becomes a bizarre murder mystery as Mother goes missing with a bearded fisherman and a fat vicar lies dead in the front room. Was it the Rat Catcher, the Carpet Fitter or the French Dressmaker? And who is the Man with the Big Hammer?	2 Acts 70 mins	LazyBee Scripts
Pig Unit	3M/2F	Polish immigrant Paluszki comes towork at the Pig Unit with bullying Leonard and sniping Flint. When Leonard's adoptive Mother and a local girl earning money to go to college appear on the scene all hell breaks loose. And then Leonard disappears...	2 Acts 6 Scenes 90 minutes	Spyway Projects
What Would Jane Say?	1F	Jane Austen comments on her books from a 200 year perspective. She joins an online dating site and bickers with Cassandra over her cellphone.	2 Acts 70 minutes	Not available yet
Anning’s Fossil Depot	1F	Schools and young people. Mary Anning talks about her life and work and reveals her last illness	1 Act 40 minutes	Spyway Projects
The Cabinet Maker’s Daughter	1M/2F	Mary Anning, the Mad Woman of Lyme, is dying from breast cancer. Under the influence of pain deadening narcotics administered by bad tempered nurse, Susan she hallucinates about her life. When her longtime love appears is it a dream or reality?	2 Acts 90 minutes plus interval	Spyway Projects
Guerilla 3 short plays for street performance	3 F or M	Everyone Wants to be Somewhere Else - 3 overlapping mobile phone calls delivered through megaphones Free at the Point of Delivery - A bizarre new NHS Steampunk - The Colonel and street girl Lou meet in a dystopian future	3 x 5 minutes	Spyway Projects
Mrs Adapta Iago's Knitting Circle	3F/ 1M	The knitting circle has been meeting in the front room of Mrs Adapta Iago's bungalow every Tuesday and Thursday evening for the past forty years. But everything is not as it seems - there's conspiracy in the air. What is the project they've been working on all that time? Why are the knitting circle members all intellectual women graduates from one of Oxford's top colleges? What is the secret they want to keep from Michael, the bus driver? What actually did happen to Magda? What is the solution to the four colour problem? And what happened to Connie's rash? This darkly comic tale is as full of twists and turns as a ball of wool.	2 Acts 4 Scenes 98 Minutes	LazyBee Scripts
She Opened the Door -The Wife and the Women who Haunted Thomas Hardy	4F	Controversial reassment of Thomas Hardy's first wife by Emma. At the time sh was thought more than a little eccentric but might there have been a very real reason for her behaviour? Something to do with an overweening Mother-in-law perhaps?	2 Acts 80 minutes	Published in paperback by Roving Press Ltd. With supporting research and notes on the production.
Eve of War	1F	Knights inshining armour or gas masks and refugees? What stories will Nanny Cummins read from her book “Little Arthur's History of England” toexplain the oming horror to her small charge? And will that mean confronting the darkness buried in her own past?	2 Acts 90 minutes	Not available for production
Welcome to the Future	1 F/ 1M plus 1 child	Jimmy wakes on New Year's day in the year 2000 to see a world transformed with silver suits and hover cars.	20 minutes	Spyway Projects
Chelsey and Baz (With Tara Dominick)	1F/1M	Rich heiress Chelsey alone on her yacht picks up castaway Baz from his raft in the middle of the ocean. His story changes minute by minute and so does the posibility of romance.	35 minutes	Spyway Projects
The Lady of Shallott	1F	Bad tempered Arthritic Jacqueline watches the goings on in the street below from her window . A group of kids smokingin the bus shelter. A policeman practising for his role in a Gilbert and Sullivan production. Meanwhile she tries to complete a tapestry for the local shopping centre.	2 Acts 50 minutes	Spyway Projects
Conversations at the Sorrento - A bouquetof short table plays for performing in cafe spaces	Various	A woman is dumped by her husband via her mobile phone. Two walkers consider what would have happened if one of them had fallen from the clif. Two members of the flower show committee try to have a meeting. An elderly day tripper tries to decide whether to have a panini for lunch.	5 x 10 and 15 minute pieces.	Spyway Projects
The Town Hall Fish	Various but minimum 4F /3M plus 6 girls, 1 boy and several extras.	A day in the life of a small seaside town. Various characters come and go and a disagreement escalates between and the manage of the local aquarium. At the end of day the sight of a drowning sailor makes think she has seen an angel.	2 Acts 110 minutes	Spyway Projects
Dead Air	1F/ 1M	Susie Strong hosts the Very Very Very Early Show on Radio Violet. But today nothing in the stdio is working and with the studio technician not due in for another hour or two she's on her own. Then she hears footsteps in the corridor outside.	2 Acts 40 minutes	Spyway Projects
The Time Machine	2F/ 2M Plus puppets	Adaptation of H.G.Wells' story. But with the added complication of two white mice hiding in the machine and who get trapped in the future.	2 Acts 70 minutes	Spyway Projects
We Call it Home	Various	An history in songs and sketches commemorating the fiftieth anniversary of the opening of a Scout and Guide headquarters in Dorset. Very specific but could be used as a blueprint for similar events.	40 minutes	Spyway Projects
Dick Whittington and his Crazee Cat	1994	Knockabout, updated version of the traditional pantomime.	2 Acts 90 minutes	Spyway Projects
Captain Pugwash and the Monster of Green Island	4 M plus 1 F to play Tom the Cabin Boy	Based on characters created by John Ryan. Pugwash wants to stand as toen mayor but he needs to make a grand gesture to be elected. He decides to set sail for Green Island to capture a monster for the town zoo. Black Jake stows away on board the black pig and pandemonium ensues.	2 Acts 90minutes	Licence for characters needed. Reading copy only Spyway Projects
Shahrazad (with the Company)	2F/2M	Adaptation and conflation of some of the original Arabian Nights tales as Shahrazad and her sister Dunyazid take on the wily old King Shahria and try to put off her execution.	2 Acts 70 minutes	Spyway Projects
The Trumpet Major	F 1/M4 with doubling. 8 without doubling The old Anne Garland could be doubled by her younger self.	Thomas Hardy's novel of life in the Napoleonic era, with soldiers massing to repel invasion, and village life in turmoil as a result.	130 mins	LazyBee Scripts
Hiawatha	2F / 3M	Adaptation of the Longfellow poem. The story told by a band of Jesuit priests traversing the wilds of Canada.	80 minutes	Spyway Projects
Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Vanishing Author	1F/2M	Author Conan Doyle is gradually taken over by his creation Sherlock Holmes, but then the attempt to kill off his creation, results in Holmes using all of his skills to escape death.	2 Acts/ 5 Scenes 90 minutes	Published by LazyBee Scripts
The Runaway Train (with Jem Barnes)	2F / 3M	Pantomime play. Something is blocking the drains in the small wayside station where the old engine Ethel May Winthrop is being restored. But what happened to the gold that disappeared on her fateful last run? Requires full size practical steam engine.	2 Acts 90 minutes	Spyway Projects
Little Arthur’s History of England	1F	Original version of the play “Eve of War”		No longer available for production
The Mayor of Casterbridge	2f / 3M	A faithful retelling of Thomas Hardy's well-loved novel for small company. Michael Henchard sells his wife after a bout of drunkeness. Vowing never to drink again he does well and rises to become Mayor. But when his wife and daughter reappear years later his life spirals into tragedy.	90 minutes	Spyway Projects
Jane Eyre (with Helen Palmer	2F /2M	An adaptation of the Charlotte Bronte novel for a small cast in flexible settings.	80 minutes	Spyway Projects
Painting the Clouds with Sunshine	1F/2M	Young girl has dreams of Hollywood in the 1930. Her adventureson the way to stardom	70 minutes	Spyway Projects
Robinson Crusoe	2 F / 3M including cross dressing dame and principal boy	Traditonal panto for small cast touring prouction	80 minutes	Spyway Projects
Little Red Riding Hood	19792 F / 3M including cross dressing dame and principal boy	Traditonal panto for small cast touring prouction. Little Red Riding Hood lives in the greenwood with her father Robin and outrageous Grandmother. The Sheriff of Nottingham disguises himself as a wolf for the usual reasons. With songs.	2 Acts 80 minutes	Spyway Projects
I Want to Fly	2F/2M	Play for young people in schools with classroom particiption. Four characters want to learn how they can fly and explore the history of mankind's attempts to do so.	Half day project. Play itself round thirty minutes	Spyway Projects
Brog Seven (with Jem Barnes)	2F /2M	A play for young people about Energy Conservation. Christine and he mother run a launderette. Brog Seven arrives from the year 2401 to sabotage their machines and point out what their misuse of energy will mean for the future. Meanwhile the dastardly Sir John Montague wants to corne the energy market for his own ends.	40 minutes	Spyway Projects
Krondos (with Jem Barnes)	3 F or M	A play for young people about Energy Conservation. Representatives from three planets meet to decide which is the most efficient energy source before the Galaxy runs out altogether.	30 minutes with discussion	Spyway Projects
The Web (with Jem Barnes)	1f / 3M	A play for young people about Energy Conservation. Perhaps the Wheeler Energy Box will be the answer to all our problems. But the villainous Grabbitt and Runne have their eyes on it fo themselves.	30 minutes	Spyway Projects
Damion and the Plague of Words(with Jem Barnes)	1F /3M	A play for young people to encourage reading with participation. Prince Damion is losing control of the kingdom through a md deluge of words. Perhaps the children can help by taking the words topiece and reassembling themin a more organised way.	30 minutes	Spyway Projects
The Jolly Farmer (with Jem Barnes)	1F/ 3M	The life and times of eighteenth century political activist William Cobbett. With songs.	80 minutes	Spyway Projects
A Grave Matter (with Jem Barnes)	1F / 3M	A hot summer in the seventeenth century and the wife of a prominent Basingstike business man is buried aive twice. Humorous retelling of a genuine piece of Basingstoke history.	80 minutes	Spyway Projects
Mummers’ Play	All sorts of permutations for a cast of five	Performance version of the ancient tradition with plenty of modern allusion and knockabout humour.	20 minutes	Spyway Projects
A Christmas Carol (with Jem Barnes)	Cast of five	An adaptation for flexible company of Charles Dickens' evergreen tale. Interspersed with traditional carols	90 minutes	Spyway Projects
Whistling	2M	A young volunteer visits an elderly blind man holding out against eviction	1 Act 40 minutes	Spyway Projects