Just Do More, Richards

Now that I have working transport again, I'm back out there with the shows.  I've had a good week, I feel rested and, as a teacher, this has been a good one. I had to take an actual exam the other day, a new requirement for external teachers, which I sailed through (and got myself a little qualification I'd never asked for to boot) and all of the students are all on great form, which tends to happen when the sun comes out. Got offered a swanky new teaching job with lots of hours in a school that's walking distance and politely turned it down. Good to be in demand though, yeah?  Tonight though didn't quite click the way I wanted it to, I was over in Ely where my good friend, Rishi, was hosting. It was my now regular double bill of shows, with an interval, the dark comic drama, 15 minute break, and then the drumming chaos one. I appreciate it's a lot for an audience to sit through, but I'd like to think both shows are so different it almost feels like you'...

So far this year I've played a bunch of band gigs, I've written four new full shows (two of which have gone live, the other two have entered rehearsals), I've performed in France, at the Leicester Comedy Festival, a load of house previews, I've written off a car, I've bought a new one (which seems to enjoy flashing a  'check tyre pressure' light whenever it gets cold, even though the tyres are fine, I've had it for four days...), I've watched my film sellout two screenings at a film festival, I've been cast purely as an actor in another film (more on that soon) and I've taught for literally hundreds of hours.  It's still only March.  But this is exactly what I wanted to happen this year (apart from the car stuff). Fun, projects, adventure, it's all there.  But on Monday night, home from another 8 hours of teaching, I just sat on the sofa and paused for a moment.  I was knackered. Aside from the teaching, this week I've decided to ...

I was really happy with the reading of 'Jim...' the other night. Esther and I have so much work to do, I've written a beast there, I arrogantly think, but it'll only be a beast if we put the hours in. The car stuff is just a distraction. After Wednesday's frankly horrible conclusion, I lost all of Thursday trying to deal with it - it turns out if you have a car that has just been dumped back on your driveway but is totally dead, it's quite tough to get it to the garage. I had a lot of time in on Thursday, I couldn't get anywhere, I should have used it to write. By Friday, a tow truck had got my car to the garage and at midday I had a call saying the car was totally dead...metal trimmings in my oil, my gearbox had died. Three thousand pounds to fix, not worth it, graveyard to a frankly awful car that cost me £12,000 three and a bit years ago and never felt right. There was always something .  I lost two full days of teaching on Thursday/Friday as I couldn...

It's nearly 2am and I'm buzzing. Why? Because my car broke down at 11pm, and I had to wait in a little side street in Cambridge until 1.30am when the cool dude from Manchett's came out (via the AA) to tell me that "this car ain't going anywhere, mate". Yeah, I know, when the warning light came on and I skidded across a road. It was a quiet road, late at night, thankfully, and I managed to drag the car to a cul-de-sac next to a church. Apparently there's an issue with my transmission/gearbox. Could be something as simple as a wire out of place, or it could be mega expensive. Either way, my car ended up on a big truck. In my time waiting, I watched as a homeless man found his nest for the night, as drunks staggered out of the pub, as ambulances flew by, as a young couple argued, as lights went off around the various apartments, as a dodgy man delivered something on a bike to a block of flats. I wrote it all down. But, aware that I needed to stay awake for th...

I take my mother shopping every week, she lives about an hour away, I wish I could see her more. She is, after all, of 'an age' and needs a bit of help every now and then, but schedules and that dictate otherwise and my sister is very nearby to help if need be.  Anyway, these days it's a quick hour; I teach in a school nearby, I swing by, wait in the car and reply to work/gigging emails on my phone whilst she picks up her groceries. It does feel like, in these frantic times, that every minute needs to be used wisely.  But a few years back it wasn't quite the case. I was a full-time performer, which often meant I had a LOT of free time on my hands. It never really worked out, as much as I tried; I was skint, living a dream and, although there was some big moments both professionally and personally, I was pretty much just unemployed but never admitting that. The one person to benefit from this? My mum. Our shopping trips were long, she had her son back. During that time I...

That was one of those weeks where I'm not entirely sure how it's suddenly Saturday evening already. I seem to be in a pretty healthy routine of strong morning coffee > read over what I wrote last night > teach for 3 hours > walk Freddie and admin stuff for an hour > teach for 4 hours > write till my eyes are no longer open.  I'm writing a lot at the moment but I have to. Having already written two new solo shows for the year, both of which have gone live and I've enjoyed, I've been stressing writing the show I'm performing with Esther. Stressing, because when there's someone else involved, it changes everything - I want the characters to be equal, I want the relationship to seem realistic. But it also has to be enjoyable for the audience, it can't just be two people talking or bickering. Writing for a bigger cast is easier, even a cast of three, as you can throw in a 'disruption character', which is what I'll be doing for anoth...

I really should research locations before committing to them; apparently there's a difference between the Lake District and the Peak District. Quite a few hours difference, it turns out. Still, with a little schedule rejigging (ie; cancelled three schools and six private lessons), I was able to make the trip up to Keswick (LAKE DISTRICT) to watch our film, Harvey Greenfield is Running Late, being screened. Not only being screened, we opened the whole festival, the launch night of its 25th year, which is a bit of an honour.  Two days previously, I'd spent a lot of money getting my car fixed. I quite like having a dodgy car. I've always had cars that have been, you know, on the edge. Bit of gaffer tape holding in the engine, odd noises. All adds to the adventure and 'struggling artist' vibe that I strangely crave. But the last few years I've had this nice car, which costs lots of money, but because of my teaching work I was able to afford it, and it just drove nic...

Happy with the Leicester show, and continually tweaking it ahead of all the many festivals that are creeping in for later in the year, I had to shift focus completely to the other imminent new project, a more serious piece of writing (but still a comedy) that was to open in France just two weeks after the other play had just launched.  I'd been writing that at the same time as writing the two-hander I've got coming up with Esther, both very different shows and both lost me a bit of sleep. Of course, day-to-day stuff also had to take priority momentarily; teaching long hours, another blues gig at the hotel (we were pretty good that time), a guest appearance at the school where we filmed Harvey Greenfield, that sort of thing. Mostly, just dashing around and keeping people happy. But this also mostly makes me happy, despite Cambridge traffic. The film was nominated for an award in Barcelona but none of us were able to make it and we didn't win anyway, but still - it's nice...

Having spent most of January writing like a psychopath (is there any other way when you're against the clock?) including two Sundays where I didn't leave my office (spare room) for 14 hours, it was time to finally launch the first of my many new productions for the year. Titled simply, There's a Band Playing at the Social Club Tonight, it's my love letter to working men clubs that, whilst I still find a little intimidating (it's not the 1970s, after all), I'm glad still exist in certain small towns. It tells the story of a slightly posh, middle-class drummer, having to perform at one of them, feeling very out of place but gradually understanding the warmth and friendships that make up such places. The plan for this show was to make it as music-heavy as possible, like the audience were actually at the gig that's featured in the story, so they can really feel like they're part of it. It's also a chance for me to show off my drumming chops, especially w...

Still playing catch up here, bear with. January: the greyest of months, I love Christmas more than your average 43-year-old man without children should, so when it's over I always feel particularly deflated. Yet, like most, I see it as a time for setting massive, mostly unachievable goals, which make us all feel artificially motivated until the middle of the month when we realise a lot of them simply aren't going to happen, and you then have a good eleven and a half months of feeling unsatisfied with yourself.  Mine, however, have to be achieved, because, like an idiot, I started the year by not only applying to every festival going, with 5 DIFFERENT SHOWS, which means I have to write them now. I also took the potentially financially flawed decision of letting six of my drum students go, just to clear up a bit of time. It's never nice having to send that email out, it's like dumping someone* in a "it's not you, it's me...you've been the perfect student...