My Play

I'm writing my theatre play today. It hid in a corner for 2 days. I feared no one would stage it in the UK. But it calls. Always, the dialogue makes me nervous. So want it to be exciting.
The best way is to scribble all dialogue, then add in props. Otherwise, it's agony.
I hope to have a bound-revised version by the end of the first week of March 2007 for submissions. Then I return to the novel. My spirit demands plays, comedy-writing/acting and the novel. & I believe this to be my permanent reckoning as a writer. Poetry is for thunderstorm afternoons when I remember fobidden moments.
Sexual farce has entered the quiet drawing room in a scene. The staid middle-aged Englishwoman with her neatly-pinned hair is desperately straightening untidy ruffles. A character is chasing her around the room. She is tripping over chairs and almost falling. I think he is trying to kiss her.
I am on my best behaviour. This is not the playwright's fault.