I visited an amazing garden at the weekend. It was bursting with the last-minute, leftover energy of August, all blossoming borders and overlapping drapes of leaves and flowers. And for a while I just wandered and didn’t think at all about words or characters or plot-spinning. I just breathed in the colours and smells and listened to the mass drone of happy bees and hover flies. It reminded me of what a visual spectacle things can be when they relax and are allowed to happen, or of course in the case of this wondrous garden, they’ve been intricately planned and structured and only then, allowed to happen. Bit like a story. All the mechanics should be well-hidden, but in most cases, they’re required to ensure the reader or viewer gets caught up in the wonderment of it all.

I’m writing a play for theatre as well as some film projects at the moment, and the different challenges of both mediums are proving quite inspiring if a little tough. My theatre-head still lacks confidence, but I’m going to try and plan it well, then just let it happen. Fingers crossed.


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