Hello hello, sorry I haven’t done a midweek catch up for a couple of weeks (and this one is a day late). Sometimes I get all cringey at myself and think, god Charlotte, midweek musings, what are you on about, who the F cares? But then I remember that, er, I care, and it’s nice to have these little diary entries to look back on. Especially since I have the memory of an aged goldfish.
So, yes, it’s been a busy old week or so. Oli opened with his show, The Last Tango. In case you haven’t heard about it, or seen the posters on the tube, it’s another dance show from the very lovely Flavia Cacace and Vincent Simone, and Oli sings all the songs for it. On stage. He had to learn 17 songs for this show, which made for an interesting (read: stressful) two weeks when he was in rehearsal… But it’s opened now, and is going well, and he’s had some fab reviews which always makes me all proud and glowy inside. I went along to the press do last week with my sister and it was full of folk from Strictly, who are all universally lovely, it seems. There were also a few slebs there, but I’m pretty shocking at having a clue who people are (I swear I could be stood next to Angelina Jolie in Boots* and have no idea who she was), so my sister had to fill me in. Unlike at the press night for Oli’s last show, she didn’t get drunk and offend Brendan Cole (long story). No gossip, everyone was very well behaved. And everyone I spoke to told me how proud I must be of Oli, and how fabulous his singing is, which is always cheering.
On the subject of dancing, someone else in our family has decided to try it (I say someone else, Oli can’t dance for toffee, and neither can I). We noticed this week that little Daph has now started bopping her body about when she hears music – it is SO. BLOODY. CUTE. She can even keep time pretty well – it’s sooo sweet and funny. Especially as she doesn’t really smile while doing it, which makes it seem like some kind of strange involuntary reaction – CAN HEAR MUSIC, MUST MOVE BODY kind of thing. Babies are amazing.
In other news, I started my six-month Writing a Novel course at the Faber Academy last week and am enjoying it immensely. Aside from anything else, it’s so lovely having something to get a bit dressed up for (this sounds wrong, afear ye not, I’m not turning up in stilettos and a ball gown – I just mean putting on something other than stained jeans and a t shirt) and it’s fab to be using my brain again and talking to creative types. We’re in groups of 15, and my group is a really eclectic mix of screenwriters, actors, lawyers, journalists, film producers and even an architect. The best thing about this course so far is that every exercise is focused on the novel you are meant to be writing, so everything is relevant – there’s no pointless academia or tests or anything like that. I’ve been making quite good progress with my novel, and I’m up to 12,000 words now. I’m setting myself a target of 10,000 words a week, which is pretty ambitious, but I’m at home five nights a week alone while Oli is working on this show, so I figure I ought to be able to get 2000 words done each time. Obviously this is creating the very model of a shitty first draft, but that’s OK. I want to get my first draft finished by Christmas, so I can edit it next term. Fingers crossed!
*an unlikely scenario, granted