I am back. After nearly four months of silence. I have no excuse. No trips to Mongolia, no hectic touring schedule, no broken computer. Merely laziness and a drop of disillusion. But here I am. Still lazy, still disillusioned, but now at the point where I have to stay busy, I have to get writing, phoning, searching, as SOMETHING HAS TO HAPPEN.
I’m considering giving up all hopes and dreams of returning to the stage and/or getting a break in cinema, and instead going back to writing. So if I really want the Guardian to offer me that daily slot (I’ll accept weekly), then I’d better get busy typing. Hence my return to this humble little blog.
I recently sent the following email to my Anglophone friends in the world of acting. It got a surprising number of positive replies. So I reckon I should try putting it up here in the hope that Peter Brook or Gus Van Saint might stumble across it :
Okay, this is it.
The poo-poo is about to hit the fan.
Everyone said I would fall on my feet, I would find work, I would get that magic phone call.
Everyone said I was blessed with “luck” , “talent” , “jamminess”.
Alas, you were all wrong. Shamefully wrong.
And thus I am writing to you all (this is the English version, the Frenchies will get a more serious missive) …
… in order to beg, steal or borrow SOME WORK.
If I don’t start earning some money we’ll probably have to sell the house (not that that’s so bad as right now I wish I was living in Paris).
And if I don’t start acting again soon I will probably end up shooting myself in the head.
This is not an exaggeration.
So my life is in your hands.
I await your rescue nets.
Love to you all.
x x x