We’re here. In Edinburgh! Hi.
We made a beautiful little show and previewed it at Soho Theatre and got totally spoilt by the silence and the dark and the tech stuff and all that. You could hear a pin drop. And then we dropped it into a shipping container with a leaky roof in a busy, buzzing courtyard in the middle of the Edinburgh Fringe.
You forget what it’s like until you come back. It’s exhilarating and scary and exciting and overwhelming and knackering. It’s a great experience but it can also put you right on edge and give you gut ache.
Flyering makes you feel sixteen again – approaching people nervously, circling around the crowds looking for kind eyes and smiles. Flyering hours are like dog years – one hour flyering is like seven hours doing almost anything else.
But the excitement of rushing between shows (some of them so brilliant you will never forget them), meeting other generous artists, chatting to friendly locals, dashing around in blistering sunshine and pouring rain, and watching your own work find its feet and its place in the world’s biggest arts festival is pretty cool. It’s magical actually.
And my little nut-brown Nana made it to the Edinburgh Fringe. Albeit posthumously. Which is probably a bit shit for her. But it’s proper special for me. And the show is truly beautiful. Despite the slightly leaky roof. So please come.
Update: some people came. Three Weeks gave us five stars and Stewart Pringle wrote a really lovely four star review in The Stage. A gang of lads from Glasgow “took a chance on this girly play” and left in tears. They loved it. I checked Twitter about a thousand times a day for the whole of August and and had to buy extra data – because I’m not the cool woman I want to be yet. But I’m trying.