All the things I do instead of writing…
Tom Stoppard died in December, which will surely have increased interest in the production of Arcadia opening at The Old Vic in January. I had forgotten what a plush venue it is, with very nice carpets, lots of bars, space and staff. Most theatres in the West End feel incredibly cramped, where you join the... Continue Reading →
Today was not really the day I wanted to see almost three hours of Ibsen. The children had been a bit fussy all day; nothing unusual, just crying at inopportune moments, the older one getting upset about me going out, the little one wanting more of my milk in the middle of M&S, and then... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 