Simon Stephens
No, I wasn't giving the talk. Oh you. No, I'm still humble enough to think I can learn something about the craft of playwrighting. After the seminar it appears that I, in fact, know nothing. I go about it arse about tit.
Simon Stephens is a charming man. He's tall, he's kept the weight off. He wears attractively scuffed shoes. He's older than me but looks younger. He was in the art punk band Country Teasers who are actually quite good and I have heard of. He has the face and hair of a World War One air ace - he looks as if he has a respectful rivalry with the Red Baron. He is an easy laugher, an easier swearer and one or two of the playwrights in the room swoon and giggle throughout his confident blokeish chat. He is Lord Flash-heart assayed by Robert Llewellyn.
Do you remember that episode of Black Books where Julian Rhind Tutt turns up at the bookshop and everyone proceeds to fall in love with him? That's Simon.
(He's so dreamy)
He's also very successful: he won an Olivier and a Tony for his adaptation of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night. Having taught on the Young Writer's programme at the Royal Court for many years he is now an Artistic Associate at the Lyric Hammersmith. He also wrote the play "Punk Rock" which I reviewed when it played at the Lyric Belfast. I didn't think it was very good. It was nominated for the Evening Standard award for Best New Play.
Meh.
So, he's a cool, cool guy. Also tall. Which doesn't hurt. He has the look of a man of who was once a member of a Scottish Indie Band and the demeanour of a Bloody Good Bloke. I imagine he always gets his round in. Quite a lot of tonight's conversation is about football.
He also writes plays in a way that is almost the exact opposite to the way I do. Here is his method:
1) Mulling - he will think about writing something for anything up to 18 months without every starting to write anything down. If you think of something and you don't write it down and can still remember it a year later, then you may have the basis for a play. Jez Butterworth can take 18 years apparently. Which is, you know, risky.
2)Research - after mulling he starts reading. Anything that might be useful. Also watching films, going places, talking to people. All of it is glorious fodder.
3)Planning - I guess this is just planning what's in it.
4) Structure - I don't really know what this means but for Simon this is the most important and "musical" part of the thing.
5) Dialogue - he knocks it out. Usually in a couple of weeks. He has prepared everything so he is never blocked. He has put a "shift in".
Now.
My process is subtly different. I'm not saying its better, I'm not saying its worse, though its palpably worse: he's famous and I'm going through the bins round the back of the Mac looking for old latte suds.
Mine would look more like: mulling, planning, dialogue, research (if any) structure.
I'm wasteful. I write to find the characters. I'll throw a lot of stuff out but eventually I'll find something that they say and it will be the kernel of who they are. I will have spent time with them, making small talk, seeing them put on different, hats, posturing, but eventually I'll get to them. I'll find a core truth in the mess of words. That's how I do it.
That's NOT how you write a play. Simon aint just fucking around - he knows how its done and he's giving away the farm. Its a generous act. So do I change my methodology? Do I try to write like him. I probably should.
He talked about his time at the Royal Court. He read a thousand scripts. Of them 850 were "beautifully written and full of wonderful monologues but nothing happened - there was no action".
It was the moment where the arse fell out of my world - I knew that my plays would have been amongst the 850, languishing in the slush-pile of the damned.
It was an illuminating evening. I may have to re-think everything because secretly I think he's right. He did say one thing that was reassuring: "Success teaches you nothing".
I've got a lot to learn.
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