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Too many podcasts have made me poorly. I recorded two book clubs today and felt pretty woozy by the end of it. Seven podcasts in four days is too many podcasts, but luckily Dr Theatre (or maybe Dr Microphone in this case) meant that I was able to concentrate for the two hours I was working, even if I felt a bit lousy in between. I am not sure the podcasting is entirely to blame, but I don’t think it has helped - I haven’t had time to recover from the long drive to Leicester and I’ve been into London every day since. Including this evening, which I wasn’t sure was a great idea and I did manage two catnaps, one on the train and one on the tube. And I had a very nice time at the book launch I was attending and saw a few old pals. I forgot about not feeling well for most of it, but crashed a bit towards the end. We were only in town for just over two hours and then heading home again, but it didn’t feel too arduous and it was nice to be sociable - which I am no longer very inclined to be. When we arrived almost the only other people there were Ade Edmondson and Jennifer Saunders, who I have met a couple of times, but am not really sure that that would be as big a deal for them as it was for me. We were introduced and said hello, but that was about it. A more career orientated podcaster might have schmoozed them and tried to get one or both of them to fill the gap that was looming in next week’s recording. But I decided to let them enjoy their night. And then wondered if most people would react that way. Smile, say an awkward hello and then move off to talk to someone else. Maybe being Ade and Jennifer is the loneliest thing in the world. Everyone so concerned not to impose that they never speak to anyone. I suspect they might be cool with that though.
If I could go back to 1981 and tell myself that one day I’d walk into a room and Ade Edmondson and Jennifer Saunders would be there and I’d just play it cool, I’d have assumed that in adulthood I had had some kind of brain injury. But then I also stood behind Rik Mayall at a petrol station and didn’t even say a word. So maybe I have had a brain injury.
Robert Webb was also there (I don’t often go to showbiz events and if I do usually run away early out of awkwardness, probably because everyone else is too in awe of me to speak to me…right?) - it was the book launch for Mother’s Day, a cracking novel written by Abigail Burdess who is Rob’s wife - and at one point a boy of about the age I was in 1981 walked past us, trying to be all nonchalant and cool, but as he walked, turned round to clock Robert with the funniest look on his face. He had tried to style it out, but couldn’t quite manage it. Robert saw it and laughed and did an impression.
Maybe my inability to network (or socialise) is the reason why I mainly work alone in my attic, but I am imbued with a sense of fair play which I have inherited from my parents I think. Being pushy or trying to use contacts to progress feels unfair. People should get jobs based on their talent rather than who they take cocaines with. Of course, I am ridiculously wrong to feel that way. The nature of the business is that the people who get their faces in other people’s faces are the ones who get the breaks (as long as they are more subtle that the young lad impressed with Robert Webb). I will stick to my plan of just letting my talents talk for me though. Which is bound to pay off at some point. I just have to be patient. Someone will spot that I am good eventually, right? Right?
Most excitingly though I met the creator of Death in Paradise, who turned out to be a fan of my work and had even see the dum show back in the early 90s and thought it was amazing and that I was wrong to knock it. But I am so bad at networking I didn’t even say, “Well put me in Death in Paradise then!” And just told him I’d watched every episode of his show, which I think he thought was weird. He said even he hadn’t done that.
Always a giddy delight to talk to Tim Key.
His latest RHLSTP went up today and is well worth your valuable time.
