Overload (or trying to do it all and doing it badly)

Firstly this blog isn't designed to 'glorify busy' or play that competitive game of 'I'm busier than you'. We're all busy. I get that. But I think also for my academics working outside the academy, for my arts professionals juggling a day job and the real job, it's also important to talk about when we feel overloaded. To acknowledge this happens to all of us, and because frankly having a moan sometimes does good, to get it out there.

So this is getting it out there: this week I've felt like I was at breaking point. I've got a moment, a day today where I still have everything going on, but nothing as urgently pressing as it has been. So I can slow down a bit.

A bit, means taking it slower on the work, and a couple of hours off later to go out for a coffee. The last several weeks have been 7 day a week, 8-14 hour days. Combining day job and freelance and creative, and academic and who only knows what else. And it's hard.

It's hard when people with 'real jobs' see you as a bit of a 'slacker' because you technically 'only' work part time. When in fact, you're working all the hours.

A week or so ago I sent a friend of mine a list of everything I was working on that week, and his response was 'wow I had no idea'. Right, and I'm not alone in that. I thought about listing it, but that's not the point, the point is day to day jobs, reviewing, teaching and long term creative projects all piled up at once and there's only so many hours in a day, so many days in a week.

I've been doing teaching prep for the first time in a long while. I long to get back into teaching more, but equally, jumping back in is stressful and time consuming.

It's been review season on acid or something in Cardiff lately and I've had them coming out my ears.

I started a new 'day job' and the brain power, plus the routine adjustment for that.

The long term projects; two plays and a musical in progress. A book with a looming deadline. A book chapter un-started, several book and article proposals waiting.

Oh and applying for 'real' jobs on top of that. And worrying where the money will come from in the new year when another freelance gig runs out.

And in both arts and academia there's a fear of saying no, of missing an opportunity. Of constantly having FOMO in terms of every opportunity someone else gets, you think you should have tried for, be doing. Be doing more.

And sometimes there's a personal cost to the profession too. As I found out recently. I can't pretend that having a close friend of almost 8 years end a friendship over me writing an article hasn't baffled, angered and saddened me in equal measure. And while I know perhaps its for the best we're no longer in each other's lives, there's an adjustment no longer having someone you talked to every day, not there any more. I don't think in life we give enough weight to what ending friendships means- we're all allowed to 'grieve' for end of romantic relationships, and a friendship should be no different. And we should acknowledge more, what working in these industries does to relationships of all kinds.

But I've come to learn in life you can't change someone's mind. And if my writing an article was the betrayal they think it was, no matter how hard I try I won't change their mind. In my eyes it's a great shame, and a loss. All I can do is continue to, as I've always done, conduct myself with as much respect and kindness towards others as I can as we navigate these fraught industries.

But I realise as well, I can't do that if I'm at the end of my own rope. If I'm burnt out and stressed and trying to give too much to too many things. I'll start to snap, say things I wouldn't mean, come across badly. And I don't want to be that person, even unintentionally. Self-care in that respect isn't always selfish, it allows you to be a better collaborator, a better part of the community.

Of course creativity burns us all out. And I've come to realise this year especially how much that's so.

For me right now, the creative projects and the book, they take a certain kind of energy. Two have been on relative pause for a few weeks. But the play (most recently blogged about here) is intensely personal, and I'm not ashamed of saying I find it hard sometimes. Often in fact. The vulnerability of putting it out there, the fear of being judged for not just the writing, and the challenge of being a good collaborating while guarding something so personal.

Add to that the book. Which feels equally personal, and a labour of love. And what keeps me up at night.

Here's the thing about the book externally too: it's what people seem to value the most and least. In that people want to know where it is, how it's going. But it's also the thing people frequently force me to push aside. I cried this week when the producer of my one play emailed in response to my slightly panicked 'I'm sorry I'm so behind' and said, basically 'Stop. The book comes first end of discussion.' because nobody, nobody else has seen the value of it lately. And we all have our own agendas, deadlines, things pushing and pulling us. But I feel like everything pulled me away from the one thing I should be doing. That I've fought however many years to do, and not least dreamed about my whole life.

That's not to say the plays aren't important- they are, and my single greatest fear at the moment is that someone will take them off me. But the book's important too. I've put nearly 7 years into getting to that point all told, and I can't throw that away.

So I'm going to ground a bit. Saying no a bit and hibernating a bit with the book. I'm still working hard on the plays, I'm still going to be a theatre critic. I'm still going to work and applying for jobs. But I have to take my friend's advice seriously too: the book has to come first for a bit.

Not least because trying to do it all is breaking me. This has been a tough year mental health wise, which is probably a blog for another day. But this week, I could really feel myself spiralling. From Friday night until, well now pretty much I was consumed with anxiety, I cried a lot, I haven't slept much. And it's partly exhaustion, partly the exhaustion of trying to keep too many things going, and keep everyone happy. And I've probably been doing badly at it all.

So while this blog is in part an attempt at keeping an open, honest conversation going about the strain we're all under, it's also an apology to anyone I've let down, professionally or personally. I'm trying, we're all trying, let's just try and keep kindness in the mix.

So what now? well, firstly I'm trying to just get the other side of this week, the last truly intense one of the year for me. And then focus on what's important right now- which for me is the book. And to try and come into 2019 with a slightly fresher outlook, and start again.

It's been a year, and that's the next blog. And it's broken me a bit, so I'll try and fix that. And still get the work done. But not all at once, because that's not helping anyone.

Readings, redrafts and...cake again.

In the spirit of attempting to keep this updated, this is both another play progress, and life/writing/creative update.

We had another read-through of the play this week. There was cake.

Cake. Everyone will be fat by the time we finish this thing it tastes better than it looks.

It was a nerve-wracking experience as it always is. Afterwards the director said I always look- I’m not sure, miserable? Worried? Terrified? Well firstly as discussed elsewhere I clearly have an epic resting bitch face which I’m sure gets worse when I’m concentrating. Secondly, I AM TERRIFIED. I mean having been locked away with it for however long, going in and hearing people read it aloud is terrifying. Especially this time when I had changed/added some substantial parts.

Luckily, it transpired I knew everyone in the room. Which can go either way. One actor I’d met only briefly at another event we’d both been involved in, but that’s a kind of helpful familiarity. I’ll admit at first the second actor filled me with more terror than usual- the week before I found out a friend of mine was reading one of the parts. Luckily he’d had the foresight to forewarn me, and confided that he assumed I’d find it more terrifying with someone I knew involved. He was indeed correct. I admit (and have to him, so I hope it’s ok to say!) that I had a moment of utter ‘ohgodohgod’ at the thought of having to sit with someone I know well reading it at this stage. Not everyone will think like that of course- the other way to think about it is ‘oh good someone I know’. And ultimately that was the case, not only did he do a great job, but we’ve been able to talk about it in detail since, and continue to do so, in a way I haven’t with other actors, simply because we have an existing relationship. Which is great! Still doesn’t mean I wasn’t absolutely shitting it to have someone I know reading my work.

And what about the state of the play? The state of play isn’t too bad. If I had to I’d be ok with it going ahead as it is. As is, I have time to play with it. And what were initial tweaks have, based on a couple of conversations morphed into a few edits, a bit of bits and pieces threading through. Not a major rewrite, but enough to elevate it a bit more.

None of that is deliberately vague or obtuse, just that sort of explaining the plot blow by blow none of it will make sense. But I go back into it, perhaps this weekend, perhaps in a few week’s time with a new sense of what I need to do. It’s not finished, it’s never really finished. But it’s an odd feeling being ‘almost there’. And I’ll be honest I’ll miss the process when it’s over.

There’s a sense, which I might not be able to articulate properly here, but after that read through there was a sense of this being almost there. I had my list of little tweaks that were practical things that I needed to fix. But I had a feeling of something not quite being there. That I could feel, but couldn't see. It's a nutty-writer-wanker description, but it is like there's a blind spot and it's just out of reach. But you can feel it over there. I can feel it but I can't quite see it yet. But it's almost there. And then finally last night a few of the pieces settled into place and I can feel it and see it. 

Two people recently helped with this. Firstly the incomparable Kevin Jones, the writer ‘ahead’ of me in the Clock Tower season. He told me recently I’m the most honest writer he knows. And I realised actually there’s bits of this piece that aren’t as honest as they could be, and that perhaps I’ve held back a little. That’s natural I think, as you develop a piece, a kind of self- preservation thing. Related to that, my friend Tom, who through virtue of mis-hearing something in our discussion at the reading, sparked a conversation that unlocked some of what might not be as honest as it could be. And suddenly things seem to be falling into place for the strange thing that seemed missing on hearing it.

And that’s what rewrites are for too. Yes, for logistics, yes for making sense of it. Yes for my dyslexic brain that can’t tell the difference between definitely and defiantly (slight issue when the question is ‘should we have sex?’). Rewrites are also for making sure, when I set it free, it’s the most truthful version and the best version I can make it. And of course that the cake based puns are A-game.

Not only am I a writer who loves a re-write (I’m an editor, not a perfectionist in first write) but of course there’s a moment when these characters stop belonging to me. When they get handed over to other people…and I’ll kind of miss them. This project, probably of everything I’m currently working on, feels most personal, and I certainly have the most attachment to these characters. I know them, I love them, I’m fiercely protective of them… but I also can’t wait to set them free in the world (not least so they get out of my head for five minutes).

But it’s worth recording, what a supportive, and joyous experience this has been (I mean aside from these read-throughs where I feel a bit sick, but even them). It’s such a rare and wonderful thing to work with a team of people with the patience to help you work through and improve your work. I know the draft I sent in to them originally was far from perfect, but I’d always believed there was something, buried in there, about this story I was trying to write. And I don’t quite think I can articulate how grateful someone else saw that. More importantly, that they then spend time working with me, supporting me, to make it a better version of it.

And so, as I get my head down to get this final (?) version of this done, I’m really thankful to the team. But also, all the actors who came in and read drafts. All the friends who have listened to endless conversations about cake based puns, and endless further neurotic waffle about this play. Who put up with me when my rants morph into one (or more) of the characters. And who put up with my almost weekly breakdown that putting my heart and soul into this sometimes is at the detriment of other things. And who then remind me, that if I’m doing it, I have to do it right. And be happy with it. And you know what I just might be...

So I'm raising a slice of cake to the team at Clock Tower who really do take the cake, for helping me get it this far. And saying just how delicious (yes) it's been to work with such a caring, supportive, intelligent team who helped me turn this half baked (yes) idea and watched as it's risen (yes) into a tasty bake (ok that just sounds dirty, also fitting for this play) that hopefully just needs a bit of icing....and of course the cherry on top will be an audience.