As many of you know, over the past few months I have been on my own curving road, a road which has veered, sometimes precipitously, off to the side into sometimes dangerous terrain. I’m talking, of course, about how I stepped out of my life as a diligent though rather mild-mannered writer into the life of a bulldog theatre producer, the producer of the world premiere run of SH*T-M*X. Well, the curtain came down last night on the final performance which was played before a packed audience and ended with cries of “bravo” and a standing ovation. Then immediately afterwards, it was all-hands-on-deck as we rushed like crazy to complete the “get-out”, taking down the lights, pulling up the stage, dismantling the set, finally then at around midnight, tumbling into the bar to have a final glass of champagne with the cast. I made it to bed at about 1.15 am — thank goodness for the end of British summer time and an extra hour of sleep.
CurvingRoad can take great pride in how we helped launch him. But I’ll miss him. Of course I’ll always follow whatever he does and wherever his own road leads him, but…I won’t miss the money worries or my Blackberry starting its incessant vibrating at 7.00 each morning, though. But I’ll miss the cast and crew, and those dark, labyrinthine passages backstage at the Trafalgar, and watching people smile as they come out of the show. I know there were times when I thought, “My God, I’ll never do this again — that is if I survive it.” But I also know that I will do it again. It may not be for a while, but I know that my road will take that crazy, dangerous turn once more, both because of it all, and despite it all.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost
That’s been an amazing experience – I’m not surprised you feel so emotional about it.
Sue, as someone who used to do a lot of acting, I know exactly how you are feeling! Live theatre is something so special, so immediate, so visceral, it’s like nothing else – whether you are onstage or backstage. It is a living creature, it changes every night, with different audiences, different responses. So when it’s over it’s like missing a friend who just came to stay – with all the positive and the negative that goes with that! Enjoy the missing – it’s part of the experience. And enjoy having your life back too.
PS That Robert Frost poem is one of my all-time favourites!
PPS Any sign of John Cusack yet?
Nothing that is worth doing is ever easy!! You have achieved a hell of a lot putting this play together and I’m not surprised you have gone through a roller-coaster of emotions you now deserve some ‘you’ time to recover.
C x
You know, it sounds a bit like going on an awesome holiday which is filled with losing your luggage, seeing terrific sights, getting food poisoning, having the time of your life. And perhaps, that’s just how you should see it – as one huge and wonderful adventure from which you have learned all sorts and which will always resonate for you, less, perhaps, as time passes.
Enjoy every aspect of the adventure, from the fun to the chaos to the missing – it’s all part of the journey.
Love, love, love that Robert Frost poem – always have done so.
“How little the public realizes what a girl must go through before she finally appears before the spotlight that is thrown upon the stage.”
– Florenz Ziegfeld
This probably applies more to producing than to acting except there’s not as much time in the spotlight. Congratulations, Sue!
Thanks all for your support. Sometimes it’s really hard to keep perspective and know just what you’re thinking. Life (and I) seem back to normal now, and I can thank you for helping me get there. xo