I have never appeared in the Scottish Play. I have, on more than one occasion, used the porter’s speech for an audition.
It has never landed me the part. Never.
Regular readers will note that I’ve not exactly been consistent with the posts in the last couple of weeks. We are now down to the final production week for The Nieces of Lady Bumbleton. Yes, I’ll wait whilst you go get tickets, assuming you haven’t already.
So, that means late night rehearsals followed by later night production meetings. I opted to try to get back on schedule for the YMCA as well.
So, the writing had to suffer.
See? I’m suffering for my art.
Which, I suppose, is decidedly different than you suffering for, or from, my art.
So, there’s hope.
It’s my continual struggle. Consistent readers know that.
How do I find the time to produce, act, write, read, and paint?
Oh yeah, and go to the day job?
I don’t. Choices have to be made.
I’ve written before that I’m this busy because of choices I have made. I do not regret those choices.
I will always be a writer. But I know that I won’t be a successful writer if I don’t work at it every day.
I have to choose to work at it.
Don’t get excited. That doesn’t mean I’ll be posting every day.
But I will be putting words together every day. Many of them will be good ones.
The better ones you may one day get to read.
If you can find the time.