It’s just past 4pm on Wednesday and I’m already blazing down the caffeine highway. I’ve been rocking it since last night. I think one of the problems with wanting to write, or do anything that has a creative component and deadlines, is that you fall back in to bad habits. Energy drinks. Sweets. Tesco value pork pies. Late nights with endless cups of coffee. You fill your body with enough stimulants and shit and hope the resulting explosion is accompanied by the juddering birthing of your ideas on to paper. Fuck.
Nothing is scarier than a blank piece of paper. Except maybe those giant spiders that start moving indoors this time of year. Saw one of those buggers this morning, inconveniently parked at an angle on my stairs, making his removal a bit of a saga. Couldn’t even see him for ages because of the light. Just his monstrous shadow. But I digress. Writing. It’s a bastard. You can’t force the creativity, but you can and you do. Just keep writing. Then carve out the shit bits and hopefully you’ll be left with someone that’ll only make you cringe a little when read by others.
I don’t need to tell you that writing is hard. You probably know that, even if it’s just deeply repressed memories of the 5am deadline push at university. This weekend though. This weekend writing is going to be awesome. Like gold-plated, diamond studded fantastic. Pure brilliance. You see, as I’m sure you’re aware, NTW and Dirty Protest are putting on a theatre lock-in at the Angel Hotel this Sunday.
11am to 11pm. 12 hours of pure awesome. Direct in to your brain pots and stirred about.
Talks. Debates. A quiz! Readings of new writing (that’s where I’m involved). A huge scratch opportunity. Slots upon slots for you to fill with your pieces. It’s a celebration of everything creative and written in Wales. Writing can be a solitary experience sometimes but this weekend you get to be locked up in the middle of Cardiff with a bunch of people who are just as crazy bout it all as you are. Which means if you’ve got a scrapbook of poetry. If you’ve got some sketches. Some scenes. Or an idea. You should be there. So put down then pen, gather up your paper and get along. It’ll be fantastic. I promise. And there’ll be no spiders.
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