Here we are into December, the first decade of the millennium almost over; what will 2011 bring I wonder. A couple of days ago we heard of the death of yet another friend of many many years, Andy Moore who we first met back in the sixties. I am beginning to lose count of the number of my peers, or younger, some much younger, who have passed on. It’s inevitable of course with the passing years but still sad when it happens. Andy was only 66. As they say in the obituaries he leaves a wife, two sons and a brace of grandchildren.
Thornton King #5 is finished. It took six weeks. When I read of authors who have forty books or more to their credit I reckon that is the speed with which they must have written. Still haven’t come up with a title for it. Any ideas? I might have mentioned this before but I wanted to call it ‘Film Noir’ as it is all about murders in a film studio (and more of course) until Douglas had me look it up on the internet only to find dozens and dozens of books with that title. He suggested something like ‘The Movieland Murders’ which I absolutely hate.
Had the most amazing dream last night, a true reality programme dream and for once an actor’s dream that was not a nightmare. If you’re not au fait with the phenomenon known as actor’s nightmare and, it would seem virtually everyone, if not every performer in the theatre gets it at some time or other, it consists of standing in the wings about to go on stage and not knowing a line, sometimes not even knowing what play one is supposed to be in or standing on stage and drying in the middle of a song, any disaster that can happen in fact, enough to make your blood run cold. Well, in this dream I was approached by a television director who informed me he had a project coming up in the summer and I was dead right for one of the parts. (I think it must have been influenced by Rupert Everett’s book) and so the audition process began until he gleefully said it was down to the last three, then down to the last two of which naturally I was one. But he needed to hear me sing so in a huge open air arena I sat on the stage and sang a song called ‘Get In Touch With Him Now’ with a fantastic drawn out a capella ending until the final pp orchestral cord and the audience (of which there were thousands of course) went totally apeshit, screaming and yelling and applauding fit to bust. But then I turned the offer down because at eighty years of age I decided I was too old for it and would never last the course. Still it was nice to have been made the offer and to hear that audience’s applause.
I only wish I could remember the lyrics to that song.