Press night tonight. No press arrived.
I fluffed a series of lines and stood back stage imagining myself in a melancholy film following a failing actor. But then the audience seemed to enjoy it all the same. Were they all friends?
Flowers at the curtain call. Champagne and canapes at the pub afterwards. I feel awful for thinking what I think of the whole thing, because at heart they're all such decent people. Decent, yes, but also so utterly deluded.
You can't make people want to see a show, or enjoy it when they do, just by being nice. You've got to be talented, and even then you also need to get advice, to polish the whole affair.
I find it complete insanity that I'm the only person (other than the designer) working on this project who isn't a friend. To presume that you'll be able to write a great play, make a great press release, design a good flyer without asking advice from people who do it for a living is just retarded.
No writer worth his salt doesn't go through an editor, even if that editor is simply a discriminating friend - one who's willing to disagree.
What worries me even more is that maybe the writer/director/producer didn't presume anything, but instead simply didn't think about making the script/press release/flyer the best it could be. Simply didn't think
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