Writing that makes me happy: #7

Mary: But when I was a child I took everything for granted, including the stupidity of older people- They lived in another world, which did not touch me. Just now I find them very difficult to bear. They are always assured that you ought to be happy at the very moment when you are wholly conscious of being a misfit, of being superfluous.

The Family Reunion – T. S. Eliot


My thoughts on turning 25 and the quarter life crisis: #1

Brace yourself for honesty…

The ‘quarter life crisis’ is real. The past few months have been an emotional rollercoaster, and if you’re feeling like you’re not successful or you don’t know what the hell you are doing with your life- trust me on this- you are not alone.

I’ve been feeling that change is afoot for a while now. Its eight months since I’ve moved home from university and the cracks are starting to show. I have said for years that I wanted to move to Bristol, and it became my plan to do so after I finished university. Some of my university friends and I made a plan that we would get a place in the city and carry on our bromance, partying and carefree attitude into the sunset forever more.

That is not what happened.

What it boiled down to, and what everything always boils down to, is lack of money. We all needed to coordinate getting a job in bristol, saving and also trying to enjoy the last few months of university life without feeling trapped into finding the money for a deposit. It was unachievable, and one by one we realised that we couldn’t afford to do it. Three of us moved back home, one of us stayed.

When I first realised that I had to move home I sulked like the woman-child I am and resisted the idea completely. Moving back home meant losing my independence, not living with my friends, living three hours away from my boyfriend and moving to an area that is quite frankly starved of all possibility for artistic growth. It took a few weeks to properly relax into home life again, and I’ll admit it was even nice for a month or so having the stress taken off of my shoulders while I recuperated from three years of drinking, house-politics and academic pressure.

I got a job, not a particularly great job, but a job nonetheless. I figured that I wouldn’t be there for very long as something would happen with my writing or I would save up some money to move out or something was bound to happen. It didn’t. I have been home for eight months, at the job for 6 months, I haven’t saved hardly any money and now I am beyond frustrated.

Artistically and creatively I am frustrated, I’m frustrated because my life is dictated by a job that hasn’t got anything to do with my two degrees that took forever to get, I’m frustrated because there always seems to be something to pay for that prevents me from saving money. I’m frustrated because I don’t see my friends that I lived with for three years, and I don’t have any close friends here anymore- not ones I can talk to into the early hours of the night with a beer and a cigarette- but maybe that’s because we all have to get up for work the next morning. We haven’t got time for meaningful conversations. I’m frustrated that I only see my boyfriend every 3 weeks or so. I’m frustrated I don’t have enough time for writing.

The weeks fly by, the months fly by, and panic starts to set in. I overheard someone at work say they had been there for sixteen years. I immediately thought “Oh God, that is going to be me. I have to get out. I have to get out now.” Of course this is irrational, but I think the prospect of wasting your youth away in a job that isn’t relevant to your interests sets every twenty-something on edge.

I know some people might say “Welcome to the real world, hun”. I know, I know. At least I have a job, at least I have a home. And for that I am grateful. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting more out of life.

I think the crux of the quarter life crisis is that at this age there seems to be many paths laid out in front of you, and whatever one you choose, it feels like you will be cutting yourself off from the possibility of joining the other paths if you change your mind. You are making decisions for yourself, and not just small every day decisions, BIG decisions that will probably affect the rest of your life. It’s a scary time. It feels like you’re pretending to be an adult. People may not take you seriously, but you have to start taking yourself seriously even though you’re always second guessing yourself.

This legit is like having a second puberty…


You have just got to remember your inner queen, put on a brave face and try and boss every day. If you fuck up just get back up and boss tomorrow.









The best plays ever written and my mission to read them

A year or so ago I made the decision that if I wanted to write good plays, I had to read good plays. I did a quick Google search and found a list- ‘Good Reads top 100 plays’.

I copied the list down and decided to work my way through them. A lot of them (mainly the Shakespeare ones) I had studied at school or at college. But I have to admit that when I say ‘study’ I mean googling the plot points and the characters and maybe reading a few pages to look like I had done the work. So I don’t really feel that method of discovering a play counts, but it gives me an excuse to read it all over again but with a different frame of mind.

It’s like when you rewatch Disney films as an adult and realise there’s adult jokes in there that you didn’t understand before.

I’m going to write down that list of plays and strike them through when I’ve finished them.

Top 30 plays:

    1. Hamlet – Shakespeare
    2. Macbeth- Shakespeare
    3. The Importance of Being Earnest- Oscar Wilde
    4. Waiting for Godot- Samuel Beckett
    5. A Midsummer Nights Dream- Shakespeare
    6. Romeo and Juliet – Shakespeare
    7. Othello- Shakespeare
    8. King Lear – Shakespeare
    9. Rosencrantz and Guildenstein are dead- Tom Stoppard
    10. Pygmalion- George Bernard Shaw
    11. Antigone- Sophocles
    12. Death of a Salesman- Arthur Miller
    13. A Streetcar Named Desire- Tennessee Williams
    14. Our Town- Thornton Wilder
    15. Oedipus Rex – Sophocles
    16. A Dolls House – Ibsen
    17. The Crucible- Arthur Miller
    18. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof- Tennessee Williams
    19. Cyrano de Bergerac – Edmond Rostand
    20. The Cherry Orchard – Chekhov
    21. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf- Edward Albee
    22. The Tempest- Shakespeare
    23. A Raisin in the Sun- Lorraine Hansberry
    24. Arcadia – Tom Stoppard
    25. The Glass Menagerie- Tennessee Williams
    26. The Misanthrope- Moliere
    27. Amadeus – Peter Shaffer
    28. No Exit and three other plays- Jean Paul Sartre
    29. Twelfth Night – Shakespeare
    30. Long Days Journey into Night- Eugene O’Neill


Maybe after reading them all I can make my own list how I would rank them 1-30. I’m excited to get into this!

So far I have completed: 9/30

What’s your favourite play? Do you agree with this list? Any recommendations?

India x

Writing goals for this year (a little later than expected)

I’ve had this title saved in my ‘Drafts’ folder for quite some time now. Its almost May and I still haven’t set out writing goals for myself for the year. This, I think, tells me everything I need to know. *I have no idea what I’m doing*.

It has also put things into perspective a little bit. If I have no set goals, then am I going to feel accomplished with my writing this year? No. Am I going to progress as much as I want? No. Am I going to run around aimlessly like a headless chicken and then question why nothing is happening? Yes.

I have known for the past 6 months or so that I am not giving myself enough time to write or be creative, which has lead to me finally downing my hours at work to make room for writing. I feel that I need to make it a bigger priority in my life- how am I supposed to achieve what I want without prioritising writing? (And making a list of writing goals).

The wonderful thing about goals is that they can be changed. I need to suck it up and put something on paper.

So here it goes…

My writing goals for this year:

  • Look over the scripts I wrote throughout my masters and edit them to make them better, using the knowledge I have now.
  • Enter some writing competitions.
  • Write a new play.
  • Read the top 30 plays ever written.


There we go. Simple. Modest. Achievable.




Writing that makes me happy: #1

Mad Hatter: ‘In the Gardens of Memory, in the Palace of Dreams, that is where you and I will meet.’

Alice: ‘But a dream is not reality…’

Mad Hatter: ‘Who’s to say which is which?’


Alice Through the Looking Glass – Linda Woolverton (screenplay), Lewis Carroll (books)