Opportunity Knocks.

......for those of us old enough to remember Hughie Green and that fab show.
But that's not the opportunity knocks i'm on about.
When you're married to a writer, you have to take charge of all social occasions.
This is mostly because they have no idea of time when they are writing, whether that be time of day or time of year- the latter being decided by;
1- Amount of clothes worn ('Sprouty, how many jumpers have you got on, it must be at least 70 degrees out there!
'No, it's mid December and you missed the whole of Autumn completely...the warmth is the central heating.)
2- The lighting. Lighting is very important to a writer. Most of them are not typists, so bash away at their laptops with amazing speed, but only with two fingers. They need to be able to see where the keys are, as they don't touch-type. Writers seem really suprised when they finally get round to turning lights off, and it's actually mid summer....and they haven't needed artificial light for at least two months.
So- i'm in charge of the calendar. Sy will sometimes tell me if he needs a social life. Most of the time he won;t though, so i end up booking dinner with friends only to find that there is no way he's moving away from his laptop. Our friends are very understanding - these days if we are invited out, they normally supply us with a plate of sandwiches, or a tin of soup, accompanied by a cry of 'Well, we we didn't want to go to any trouble in case at the last minute you couldn't come.'
Sy always seems so disgruntled by this;
'But they asked us to Dinner, Sprouty...!'
'Yes- and you should be bloody grateful for the soup- it never fails to amaze me that we're asked out at all these days, it's you that always pisses everyone about.'

There are many other occasions that are missed by Sy while he's ensconced in his own world. I make sure i trawl the appropriate bookie, publishie, telly writing websites for networking opportunities and chances for him to meet others like him ( i make him sound like some sort of unusual pet or alien.....to a point he is.)
One such opportunity happened last week- Sy went off up to Brum to a debate on the state of television drama today.
Rather fab actually, because it was between two people that Sy used to work with- Hilary Salmon at the BBC and Tony Garnett who wrote the totally unforgetable and groundbreaking 'Cathy Come Home' back in the sixties.
Sy had a whale of time, got a chance to have a good catch-up with both of them, and has been able to send Hilary some ideas to look at. Sy hasn't written for telly for about ten years, but again, it's all about Opportunities .
And then getting The Writer to make the most of them.

Till next time,
Shakespeare's Housekeeper x

The Writers Tale.

Well, after much hooing and haaing (are they words? Must look them up in Sprouty's Everyday Dictionary) i am interviewing The Writer.
I am doing this live, so i will write the answers as they are given to me.
Imagine the scene-
I'm in the kitchen, at the laptop- he's in the sitting room, at his altar, with David Attenborough telling us both, rather loudly about a salmons journey.
That actually may be more interesting...we'll have to see how this pans out.

S0, Sy- when did you first know you wanted to be a writer?

'I started writing when i was a kid. my dad had quite a lot of books around the place and i found them rather interesting. The Ian Fleming stuff seemed much more interesting than real life.'

What was the first thing that you wrote about?

'My dad insists he found this little Ian Fleming pastiche that i had written when i was very young, but i've no idea how old i was- i got into films and moving making when i was 11 or 12, so it must have been prior to that.'

What was your first commisioned piece and who was it for?

'That would have been for Opera North-for a Danish Opera that had never been performed professionally in Britain and they needed an English Language libretto, and it was the Director who asked me to do it- she thought it was my sort of thing (laughs.)

What has been the most obscure thing you have written?

Open University stuff and a piece for the Dundee Industrial Heritage Centre, about Scott's first trip to the Antartic.

And your favourite, to date?

Darkside- a four part thriller written for the BBC, that so nearly got to see the light of day.
I've read it- it's bloody brilliant, and i'm not just saying that because i'm the wife-It scared the shit out of me.

How do you get in the right frame of mind to write?

You just have to start and do it. You can't sit and wait for inspiration. (more laughter.) He's in a good mood tonight.

You've written everything from television, through to plays, and now books. Which do you prefer?

Each one is very different. I like how disciplined writing for telly is, but i really got to hate all the re-writing crap. Theatre's great because you get to feel the audience reaction to what you have written really quickly. Books...haven't decided yet.

Ok...on to books. 'Commanding Youth' (the Arthur book) is going well- what is the most interesting and unusual piece of information that you have found out about him?

Where his grave is. Without a doubt. That piece of information is going to blow peoples minds Hopefully.

And Shakespeare is hot on his heels- the same question.

Probably, that he was murdered, from the evidence i've uncovered.

So, do you think that people will be more interested in reading about their deaths than their lives?

No. There are lots of big surprises, about both men.

How do you keep so focussed writing such detailed hisory?

It's like being a detective, getting and sorting all the facts and then putting them together, in the right order. There is more information than you could dream, about these men. It's just knowing where to look for it. Nobody has looked in the right places before.

What's your dream?

To be able to write what i want, and for that to be able to pay for the lifestyle i want.
( i do my best, you know...!)

Do you think writers who drink make better writers?

No. I don't drink when i'm writing. But that doesn't mean i'm not under the influence of something when i write....

Favourite book?

Red Shift by Alan Garner.

And writer?

Alan Garner again. He's very precise.

If you hadn't become a writer, what would you have done instead?

Apart from staying with acting, either war reporting or forensic psychiatry.

And finally ( for the time being, because i might do this again at some point)....how does your wife support you through the writing process. Details please, as this is her blog.

She keeps me fed and watered. She offers advice and suggestions. She asks very pertinant questions. And she believes in me. I think.


And on that note, Sy tells me he is off down the garage to get some ciggy papers, and so here endeth the first lesson.

Till next time,
Shakespeare's Housekeeper xx

A day to myself....

Yesterday, i thought i would have a day to myself.

Darling Daughter was going off to do something with mates, and Sy is in the middle of a very busy period with 'Arthur'.

He hasn't had time to even pass the time of day with me (to busy with Authonomy...and those bloody forums!)

So, i thought i would take myself off to Stratford and browse the charity shops.

I cooked the two of them a huge breakfast, made sure they didn't need anything and got myself together.

'Where are you off to Sprouty?'



It's the first time in nearly a week that Sy has asked me anything, so it threw me a bit.

I glanced at him shiftily- i knew what was coming if i told him where i was going.

'Just out'.

'Where out?'

More than one question- this was serious.

'......Stratford', i mumbled.

I can't remember the last time i saw him move so fast.

'Two minutes and i'll be with you.'



Bugger, bugger and arse.



In the car, he say's 'where abouts in Stratford?'

'You didn't think to ask that before we set off?'

'Well, i'm sure it's somewhere lovely..'

Time passes.

'Can we call in at the Tip shop? There might be some new books there.'

Dutifully, i drive down to the hospice tip shop and park up.

Sy is out the car like a bullet and heads down to the book section at the back.

Sighing, i grab a handful of carrier bags from the boot of the car- he never, ever buys just one book.

Half an hour later, we drive into Stratford town centre, with seven new additions (note additions, not editions- we've not been that lucky yet) safely ensconced in the boot.

I'm already £6.50 down.



Right, serious shopping- look for the charity shops.

'Sprouty, you've never seen Shakespeare's grave, have you?'



Not today, please....

'Noooo.....'

He grabs my arm and propels me at an astonishing speed in the direction of Holy Trinity church.

'We will go now- then you can say that you have been there. After all, how can you listen to me talk about his death and where he is buried, if you've never been to the grave?'

He's got a point.

And i can't believe that i've lived here all my life and never visited the grave.

But they say, people who live by the sea, and all that...



I've seen it.

It's small.

He has his family either side of him.

It's right in front of the alter.

And i had so many questions, that poor Sy hardly knew what had hit him.

I bought him a little bust of Shakespeare to put on his desk- for inspiration purposes.

Another £4.00.



Ok- charity shops!!

We mosy back up into town.

Sy see's another little church.

'We'll just pop in here Sprouty...it's never been open when i've come before.'

We have to leave money for the restoration of the stained glass windows....another £3.00.



Twenty minutes later, i'm making a beeline for the heart foundation shop.

Yay! We're in!.

But i don't see anything i like, so that's that.

Unlike Sy, who has found another two books....£4.00.

'Never mind Sprouty- lets go and see little bruv in his Gallery..we might get a cuppa.'

As i mentioned in a previous post, Sy's brother has an Art Gallery in Stratford- so along we went, the shop was open, and we awaited coffee.

No such luck- they bring it in from Costas, and had just done a 'run'.



More bugger and more arse.



So we stood in the Gallery, Sy yapping to his Brother about Politics and other stuff that people should be banned from talking about on a Sunday, all the while, it was getting later and later.

'Best go and find some more shops for you then!' he crys gleefully at about 4.00pm.



Bloody great.

Everything shuts at about 4.

We head back to the carpark, i pay £2.50 to get out of the carpark, (the barrier was shut on this one, not like the feckin hospital...) and we head home.



'Lovely day out, Sprouty. Thanks everso.'

Sy plants a kiss on my cheek as he gets out of the car.



I follow him into the house, where he is already back in another world, checking the ansaphone and starting up the computer.



I can't help but wonder how i let my day out become his?
Not just how- why????



Till next time,



Shakespeare's Housekeeper xx

Follow you, follow me...

mmm.
i see my darling hubby is following my blogs.
This is nice to know- he's taking an interest in what i'm doing.

This also means that i won't have to leave post-it notes stuck to his computer screen when i want to tell him something.
How convenient is this!

So Sy- this is for you...

Drinks at Emmas tomorrow night,.
The christening is two weeks away- make sure you try your suit on this week please.
Don't forget you are at the Gallery a week on Sunday.
Let me know what to get the twins for their birthday.

Bugger the post-it notes- i think this might be far more effective.

Shakespeare's Housekeeper (aka Sprouty) xx

'My way is to begin with the beginning'. Lord Byron- Don Juan.

...i enjoyed hugely an episode of 'Casualty' on BBC1.
The episode is ingrained in my memory because of it's rather eyepopping content.
It's not often you see the results of an oral sex session gone wrong on the BBC.

Moving forward a few years, i'm sat at a local am-dram audition, when i spot a new member.
He looked scared to death.
Now, i'm one for meeting and greeting, so i mosey over to say hello...next thing i know, he's the lead male and i'm snogging him on stage.
The last time i'd done anything like that i was absolutely legless, in the local nightclub-old habits die hard i suppose.
The male lead comes home with me for a coffee- well actually, it was a bottle of wine. It turns out he lives in the next road and is staying locally to get a script finished.
You can see where this is heading...

Sy has been writing professionally for about twenty years.
He has written for a few of the soaps on the telly, including the infamous 'Casualty' episode, and has won an award for his writing on a police drama.
He is currently writing books on Shakespeare and King Arthur (who wasn't a king, incidentally) and has written for the stage as well as the screen.
We have been married for six years. God knows what the women before me put up with, but i'm the first one he married.
He has been privately educated and has a voice like melted chocolate.He has 'O' and 'A' levels coming out of his ears.
He has introduced me to famous people and taken me to some incredible places.

Me?

Local comprehensive, two GCSE's, a voice that's a cross between the Cadbury's Caramel rabbit and Pam Ayres on sixty fags a day...and did i mention i clean houses for a living?

We couldn't be more different-it's like bloody Educating Rita in this house.

In fact, my nickname is 'Sprouty Wench'....i'm so used to it, i don't find it insulting anymore...

So, now you know. two very different people living together under one roof as man and wife.

With a daughter, but that's another story.

So not only am i going to tell you what it is really like to share my home with a writer, but what it it is like to share my home with someone from a completely different background too.

Till next time

Shakespeares Housekeeper xx