This year we have been working with playwright Morna Young to develop a new play as part of the Peggy Ramsay/Film 4 Bursary.
Having heard from her earlier in the year about the start of the process, we wanted to give you an update on how she's getting on. Hear from her below as she gives us an insight into the thematic motifs she's exploring, her experience of writer's block and the questions she asks herself when developing her story...
"In my last update, I wrote about my first Fellowship quarter, a time spent reflecting on my playwriting journey, asking questions about my writing process, and dreaming about my brewing play in “a precious time of imagination”. Moving into the second quarter (April to June), I planned to hone my thinking, to move reflection into research, and dreaming into development.
My initial play idea was born from a fascination with monochromatic lifestyles, and people who dedicate their lives to a singular hue. Whilst this could apply to any colour, I took a particular interest in pink women, those who dress, decorate and commit to living in a rosy shade. Hollywood’s Pink Lady, for example, has spent over a million pounds transferring her life to pink, far beyond the clothes she wears and including a pink diet (i.e. dyeing her food with beet juice). I’ve always had a somewhat complex relationship with the colour pink, strangely never quite feeling brave enough to wear, and it felt like an interesting exercise to really interrogate this. As I poked and prodded my pink presumptions, I found myself becoming wildly enticed by and entrenched in colour theory, the history of pink, and its many different associations. Who knew pink was so controversial, so complex?
Moving my research into story, I found myself deep in character development as I really interrogated the ‘why’ behind my protagonist’s motivations and what role pink played in this. Was pink the story? The drive? The setting? I kept turning the lens, trying out scenes and ideas, some rooted in reality, some fantastical. Drawing on my previous research into magical realism, I explored the different ways this could translate including creating an imaginary friend, and a potential dissociative world. As I kept shaping and reshaping my protagonist Rose, I found myself thinking more and more about complex trauma - something I’ve written quite extensively about – and how past and present can intertwine. I wrote scenes from these ideas, creating potential connections and supporting characters, exploring whether my protagonist might begin pink or grow into her colour. Interestingly, I found myself writing several fascinating opening scenes, but the real work was pushing beyond this.
My character and story development continued into the third quarter (July to September), and into writing my first draft of the now titled Rose Tinted. This, however, is where everything got a little bit sticky and, for the first time in my life, I experienced a form of writer’s block. Whilst I’ve heard other writers talking about this before, it’s fortunately never been an issue for me. Writing has always been my safe space, where I make sense of the world. In my personal life, however, a family member was admitted to hospital and, suddenly, a significant part of my day to day became medical calls, visits to the north of Scotland, and navigating care responsibilities (whilst unexpectedly adopting their dog too). When I would try to write, grabbing precious moments, it felt like the creative part of my brain, the bit that likes to slip into a sort of meditative creative state, just felt – numb. Strangely, it wasn’t quite a case of being entirely blocked, because I still found myself writing scenes. More, it was the complex thinking of joining strands and threads that seemed to flummox me. My brain felt burnt out, torn between a fantastical world of pink and real life obligations. Perhaps this struggle was connected to my weaving of a story that is slightly more complex in its execution. But with humbling harsh realism, it was quite the rock-the-boat moment for me to realise that I’m not immune to writer’s block. With reflections aplenty, I hope I can at least use the experience to connect and empathise with other writers who have or will experience this (conclusion: it sucks).
Whilst life has remained pretty dramatic off-stage, taking a break from the work gave me an opportunity to rethink and, more importantly, to breathe. Whilst I still continue to navigate the medical world, I feel a bit more prepared for building the structures I need to continue my creative process. I’m also genuinely grateful for the Traverse’s support during this difficult time, and it’s a real testimony to the safety and benefits of a Fellowship like this that I have been able to work around the many life curveballs that have been thrown my way. Did I mention the dog?
Returning to the work, I realised that I actually did have a lot of the pieces of the jigsaw ready – character, dialogue, style, theme – but they were fragmented and the challenge became finding the thread to bind them. Thankfully, I have an inclination that the thread is very, very pink."
We hope you enjoyed catching up on Morna's writing journey as part of the Peggy Ramsay/Film 4 Bursary, be sure to check back in a few months time as she wraps up in the new year and we look ahead to what the future holds for her new play.