I hope our charming editor will allow me to plug my latest baby, which is my spoken word set. 'Pains and Pleasures' – An adaptable portmanteau of spoken word performance and readings by Penny Pepper – reflective – provocative – witty – passionate – burlesque'. I can send the flyer around to anyone interested? I am super keen to GET OUT THERE again, and remind people I am here and wanting to connect, amuse and provoke. Come on, ask, book me, I am friendly and don't bite (generally). Photograph of writer
I would enjoy hearing from other artists on the Spoken Word circuit. How's the access? Any good venues?
The developed one-woman show is coming. Slowly. All this creativity spilling around is taking time, and making an AC application needs fullest attention. I need a good director – any offers? I am pensive, I am burlesque, I am rude, I am lyrical and quirky.
Incidentally, I sent out Fancy Nancy to 7 selected agents. Now the wait, as I visualise my undies off, with positive thoughts of seeing it published. You all know you want it. Pretty please.
As for the super rolling flowing high? It's manageable. Just. And still no valium...
My lovely therapist is worried I am reeling into an extreme high. I am sometimes exhausted and need post-it notes to remind me when meal times are, but I can't say I hate it. I love it. The creativity tap is on full and my bath of ideas has over flown and streams into the world. Oooh, a soggy metaphor, but I'm keeping it.
There is so much to write. So much to do, so much to Be. I don't want to think about downers.
I cold called some literary agents. This is a very scary thing to do. The hope is that you can slip into a natural cheeky charm and they will remember who you are when your manuscript plops through their letterbox. I say, 'there is no one like me and no novel like Fancy Nancy'. I believe it. You have to. A few agents get excited but point out they are receiving up to 300 novels a week. I tell myself quietly mine will be at the top of the pile and there will be a bidding war over it.
I woke up really late (no, not a hang over) and forgot it was New Year's day. Anyone else have those moments? My cat was, as usual, trying to sleep on my head and had made a bed in my hair. But I sprung into action quickly when I saw the sunshine and remembered I had a novel called Fancy Nancy in my front room. As in MY novel, in manuscript form, neatly arranged in chapters on my sofa.
It's embarrassing to tell you that Fancy Nancy first appeared in my head and on paper - 1st draft – about 9 years ago. This is a brave move, revealing this fact to you now because I have clung to Nancy like an over-possesive mother. I have sent her on a crazy dance in many different clothes and pushed her into pointless corners and unpleasant dead ends. But now....
Now is the time. Nancy is a disabled hero, by the way. There is simply no one like her. I don't want to spoilt it now and tell you too much because I want you to buy the book, make Nancy famous across the known universe so she can transform the world. Make me respected, rich and famous too – in no particular order.