On venturing out of the garret
Recently, I’ve been involved with some script work on a one-man show a friend of mine has been performing in the Arches. It’s called How Soon is Nigh? and it uses video, memories, stories, discussion and a bit of audience participation in order to explore our fascination with the apocalypse. I’ve been able to sit in on quite a few of the performances, and it’s been an illuminating experience to be able to see, hear and participate in an audience’s reaction to something that I have helped to create.
It’s great to see people laughing during the performance, or to overhear them discussing the experience they’ve just had in the bar afterwards. Equally, it’s discomforting to notice a yawn escape from a person sat in the front row, or to see a blank stare from an audience member who’s been asked to participate in the performance. Because I usually write fiction that is intended to be read rather than performed, I don’t often have access to this sort of immediate response. When I’m writing, I mostly work in a room on my own. The pieces that are published wing their way off to editors by email and can take weeks or months to appear in their intended publications. And when they are published, I can’t be privy to the moment when someone I don’t know settles down to read the words I have strung together.
One of my first jobs after finishing university was working as a freelance journalist. I wrote about anything and everything – homelessness to haute couture, restaurant reviews to interviews with minor celebrities. One of the columns I contributed to each week recommended bits and pieces for readers’ homes and gardens. Public relations assistants from the likes of Ikea and Marks & Spencer would send me photographs and press releases about new products, and sometimes the actual products themselves, in the hope that I would write about them. I would also trawl the independent shops, looking for interesting knickknacks.
On one occasion, my boyfriend brought home a curious item he had bought from the Boots store where he had a weekend job working in the photo lab. The product was made of green plastic; shaped like a foot, with suckers on one side and bristles on the other. He demonstrated how to stick it to the bottom of the bath using the suckers and then rubbed his bare foot against the bristles, cleaning his soles and toes. I decided to take a photograph of it and put it in my column.
That weekend, my boyfriend came home from his shift at Boots and told me how he’d sold quite a few of the foot cleaners to customers who had read about it in the Herald. I found the fact that people were actually buying an item I had written about both hilarious and mildly unnerving. It seems stupid now, but up until that point, I honestly hadn’t thought about the fact that anyone would be reading the articles that I had written.
A few years later, I experienced a similar feeling at the premiere of a short film I had made with my brother. It was our first film, and our friends and family had all piled into the Cameo cinema to show their support and see what we had made. I had not considered what it would be like to be present while other people watched the film, and as the house lights faded I had a sudden sense of panic about the fact that one scene featured a naked woman. My eighty-year-old granddad was seated just a few seats along from me. What would he think? I was in the front row, and I couldn’t decide what I wanted more – to see the film on the big screen for the first time, or to turn around and watch the reactions on the faces of the people who were watching it.
On the 20th of June, I’m going to be reading one of my stories as part of the 3 minute hero quick fire showcase. I’m nervous and excited about being faced with an audience again. But even though it may be scary, I know that taking a chance to venture out of my garret is always going to be a good thing. I may spend most of my time writing in a room all on my own; I may not get to meet some of the people who read my fiction, but what I’m trying to do is to inspire, to entertain, to provoke – to communicate. What better way to do that than face-to-face?
Katy McAulay
Tags: Guest Posts
