Dispatches from Jersey #3 – Leon Fleming
Woo Whoo! I’ve been asked to write today’s blog and today’s topics will be:
“impenetrable bubbles of life outside time and space, multiple-personality disorders, and the merits of a non-human audience.”
What a week it has been so far. There is something quite incredible about the clarity gained by going somewhere else to write, away from the clutches of daily life and its need to pull your attention away from the work. Being within the same space as other wonderful writers; Hannah, James, Stacey, Ben, Sam, Colin, Robin, Martha, and Matt, to name, well, all of them really, as well as Paines Plough Artistic Directors James and George, could be likened (possibly) to being in the X-Factor house. A buzz of creative energy. Fortunately without an annoying one constantly singing when people just want a bit of peace and quiet. And with the fabulous and eagerly anticipated (by everyone except perhaps the participating writers), COME TO WHERE I’M FROM performance on Saturday at the Jersey Opera House Studio, the X-Factor link is still valid (just) as we have our very own live show.
As one of the “Jersey Five”, invited to spend our days up here in these luxurious surroundings, with these great people and the incredible views of St Aubin’s Bay, I am shocked at how much work I am actually managing to get done. Proof I think of how important it is to be able to remove yourself, for just a little while, from the world and spend time in an impenetrable bubble outside time and space (I knew I’d get it in somewhere) and just write. OK, so it’s not really impenetrable. But it is a space without too many distractions, and I think it’s proving massively beneficial for all of us here.
My only worry is that at some point my urge to read out-loud will overcome me and give away my dark secret. I have a habit of performing my plays to myself, and to my cat when she’s available. I don’t get much more than a strange look and a grumble from her when I stand there reciting my work in a myriad of different voices and accents (which all sound very much like my own), but this is the way I usually write. Is this normal? Some writers are mostly working in their rooms’, so I’m hoping, possibly in vain, that this is a sign that I’m not alone in my habit.
Also, I’m wondering if there are any other kinds of non-human that make a better audience than my cat?
Tomorrow is the last day of the residency, so almost everyone is out for a walk along the coast; it would be a shame to come over here and not see how beautiful and inspiring this island really is.
As for me, I’m starting to consider how sound-proof the lavatory might be; as I think I might have to give in to my urge to read out-loud. Even without the cat here to give feedback.



























