There is no denying that the run has been a success. After the predictably shaky start, Christopher Peacock got into his stride by the third performance and was rewarded with a good (and our only) review. Audiences grew each performance, and the applause grew in proportion. On the last night, I blushed for the first time in several decades while Chris sang my praises from the stage at the end of the play. Alice de Sousa and Bruce Jamieson, of the now defunct Greenwich Playhouse (who gave me my first big break as an actor eighteen months ago) were also there and similarly complimentary - and in the course of the run other actors and producers have been far more positive about the play than politeness or friendship would demand.
So, I'm feeling pleased with myself. In the last six months I have put on two critically - although not financially - successful productions. I have proved myself as a writer - at least of monologues - and as a director. Ok, that last claim is over the top, but I've learned enough from the experience to be fully confident of taking on the task again. There are several possibilities milling around in my mind - another male monologue that a friend would like to commission, some female monologues and a full-length play. Give me a couple of weeks break and I will turn my attention to them. In the meantime, it's back to the rare book business, which is beginning to pay some rewards. All I need now is for the plumbers to finish renovating the bathroom, so I can shower in solitude and comfort instead of at the kitchen sink or nearest swimming-pool, and life will be almost perfect . . .
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