Why Write a Blog, The Worst Witch and Other Tales

Given that my stomach has been turning for two days at very the thought of writing this, let alone at the thought of publishing it; given that I’ve run through about a hundred ‘worst case scenario’ daydreams about blogging; given that without having yet written a single entry, in my head I already have offended and bored people, all while making terrible grammar mistakes; given that I have an ever-growing mental list of people who I hope don’t find out that I’ve taken to splashing my thoughts all over the web…. given all of this, I am not sure why I am so determined to write this blog. Perhaps the fear in itself is what’s telling me to ‘keep on.’

As a first offering, I thought I’d try to answer this question. So, for myself as much as for you: what on earth has possessed me to set up a blog?

Record keeping comes to mind. I write diaries; I always have. But they are private things, cathartic things, and I could never show them to anyone. Not a future husband, or a future daughter, not even myself sometimes. And they are not appreciative enough: of the exceptionally lucky, varied and exciting life that I lead, of the people who come in and out of it, or of how often I get to Spit the Pips (a private saying – I will share a few as I go). I’ve had and will have some exciting projects coming up and I’d love to share my acting work, producing work and life with you all. So at times, just consider this blog a thank you letter.

Sharing Worst Witch Memories. I won’t go into it, but I met some people recently who made me appreciate for the first time how interesting other people might find hearing about what filming ‘The Worst Witch’ was like. (Thank you Sophie Black). So, I am going to break the rule of a lifetime, and rabbit on about playing Mildred Hubble and filming at Cackles Academy.

Worst Witch: Then 1999 and Now 2012

This rule of a lifetime (paraphrased: ‘don’t talk about it unless you’re asked, and don’t ever let me catch you boasting’) is a big one to break…my father suggested it to me, firmly, and over the years it became almost sacrosanct. It stood me in really good stead at school, or at least made me bearable I hope, and it kept my identity nice and well hidden from my nearest and dearest at Princeton for two full lovely years until Jackie Bello burst into a room with a pile of DVD’s … But – as a record, as a thank you for the experience, and perhaps, dare I say, as an interesting view into the world of acting, I’d like to share that experience now. It’s one that is incredibly important to me and to a small group people with whom I grew up, and so I hope do a good job.

Fans or Living up to Expectations. This sounds strange. I know I don’t have many fans: and I know that when I see actual celebrities talking about ‘loving their fans’ it always sounds hollow and false. But I do have a few; and I do love their faith and support. It amazes me that people have offered this support consistentlyover the years (Mr. McFadden!).

A picture from Eva E and a photo from Bradley M – thank you!

And I can’t count the number of times I’ve been feeling low only to find a kind, encouraging message from someone I have never met. (They are nicer than royalties checks, which are nice too of course!) It’s a strange feeling: and one that I sometimes think I’ve done little to deserve. So, this blog is also for the people who take time out of their day to read this, or to send letters or posts. I hope I can answer some questions at least…

Recapturing what was magical about Princeton.This is my last reason, and then I’ll stop. (“Be more concise” was etched in red ink on practically everything I wrote at my beloved University.) This one is easy: I miss writing; I miss having to make cogent arguments; I miss poetry; I miss politics; and I miss writing about Shakespeare and his actors. I also miss communicating with brilliant people who challenged my thinking daily.

MacNeice and Shakespeare: two men I have big crushes on

So, I’ll end on an apology and a request. I apologize, a few of these posts may be bookish.  I ask, please pick me up on things if I’m not making sense, or if you disagree. And do send poems: favourite ones are so hard to find. I’ll end with mine:

The Sunlight in the Garden

Louis MacNeice

The sunlight on the garden

Hardens and grows cold,

We cannot cage the minute

Within its nets of gold,

When all is told

We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances

Advances towards its end;

The earth compels, upon it

Sonnets and birds descend;

And soon, my friend,

We shall have no time for dances.
The sky was good for flying

Defying the church bells

And every evil iron

Siren and what it tells

We are dying Egypt, dying

And not expecting pardon,

Hardened in heart anew,

But glad to have sat under

Thunder and rain with you,

And grateful too

For sunlight in the garden.