Many people have been asking me what it’s like to be a “West End Producer”. Well….
There’s a life I seem to remember with nostalgia and longing from a few months ago. It’s my life as a writer. In that life I:
* wake up, look at my diary to see a morning free to work and perhaps an afternoon meeting or coffee with a friend
* eat my breakfast, see the hubby and kid off to work/school, get back into bed to answer emails and meditate (ie sleep)
*sit down at my desk by 10 am to write
* next thing I know, it’s 1.00. I eat my lunch reading over what I’ve written, making some notes for the next day.
* I spend the rest of the afternoon doing whatever non-writing things need to be done.
* At night, I go to sleep happy with a sense of peace and progress

But lately, I’ve been living the life of a West End Producer. My arts charity, CurvingRoad, is producing a terrific new play, SH*T-M*X, by the talented young playwright, Leo Richardson, at London’s Trafalgar Studio 2. In this life I:
* wake up, look at my blackberry to see a dozen new emails that have come in overnight, all with red !’s next to them. I look at my diary to see a day of phone calls and meetings.
* eat my breakfast, see the hubby and kid off to work/school, collect my laptop from my office upstairs and get back into bed under the warmth of the computer.
* I look at ticket sales reports and worry. I look at reviews or not.  I look at the report from the previous evening’s show and smile (those are always good). I read dozens of emails and make a list of things to discuss with my producing partner.
* after a quick shower, I’m at my desk, on the computer, on the phone – sometimes 2 phones at once — sometimes pacing around the room while being harangued or wheedled or, occasionally, praised (that part’s nice).
* next thing I know, the day’s almost over, the kid’s coming home from
school, I’m wondering what to feed us all for dinner and reaching for the take-away menus
* some evenings I go to theatre, speak with the cast, sometimes sit in on a performance.
* At night, I go to sleep exhausted with a sense of relief that I made it through the day, amazement at what a talented cast we have and how they continually put on incredible performances, but worrying about what the next day will bring.

But you know what? Now that I’ve had my little whinge, I can say that producing this play might turn out to be one of the most insane but also one of the most important things I’ve ever done. A new play exists. A new artist is launched. Hundreds of people are enjoying a fantastic theatrical experience. In the midst of some of the gloomiest news we’ve had in years – a global economic crisis, a worrying US presidential election, a world full of war and violence – we have persevered and created something beautiful, uplifting and true. In the words of The Times review, this is “a rite of passage worth making.” So thanks for allowing me to let off some steam and gain a bit of perspective. And go see SH*T-M*X before the run’s end on 25 October if you can (box office 0870 060 6632) – you won’t regret it.