On the slow process of putting on a show

Last year, I started puttng together my first ever play, KINGMAKER, and I documented the research and development process here. 

It was a really fun project, and despite some trepidation about working in a new medium, I really enjoyed the creative process of working with a director, actors and a producer to develop the show. Sadly, our second Arts Council bid didn't get funding, so we decided to put our plans for touring the show on hold until later this year. 

The play is a quirky little comedy about village life, friendship, and ellaborate archeological hoaxes, and we originally conceived it as a piece to tour rural venues in the Midlands. 

So, while we were waiting for autumn to roll around, we were invited to showcase the play at the National Rural Touring Forum, a conference specifically set up to support theatre in rural places. 

We were given a five-minute slot at the conference to showcase the play, in the hopes of connecting with other touring schemes and professionals. So, I decided to write a poem about the show, and about the process of making the show, which we could perform on stage. How very meta-texual! 

At the conference, the poem was performed by Vivi Bayliss from Rolling Road Arts. She'll be directing the show, once we get it up and running, and as well as being a fantastic director, she's a great actor, dancer and choreographer too!

Anyway, here's the poem. It's very unserious, exactly like the play itself. Enjoy!

Kingmaker - A Play for Rural Touring

The berg of Little Fidgetton is where we set our scene –

think “hamlet” then think “ghost town” and it’s somewhere in between – 

as nondescript a village as the world has ever seen.

There’s really not a lot to do, but damn, the streets are clean! 

It doesn’t have a restaurant, a hostel or hotel,

it doesn’t have a castle, or a mansion, or a well,

it doesn’t have a battle site where ancient soldiers fell, 

and, since they closed the treatment plant, it doesn’t even smell. 

Our story stars Fiona, who runs tourist information,

a woman on a mission with ideas above her station.

Her office might be closing, thanks to rural isolation:

but she still greets each stranger with loquacious animation. 

And as she talks, and talks, AND TALKS, your faces start to slacken – 

how can a place that seems so dull illicit so much passion? 

It’s so obscure, cartographers will miss it, when they’re mappin,’

but don’t go yet – here comes the plot! – something’s about to happen:

While digging in the church yard for the toilet block foundations,

a builder finds a skull, which gives the vicar palpitations.

“No one’s been buried in this plot for fifty generations!”

Could this skeletal noggin be the village’s salvation? 

Now, expert help is drafted in, two archaeologists 

come bearing trowels to find out if the evidence exists.

While Lou is not so sure, her buddy Alex will insist

this skull could be KING ARTHUR – that’s the first exciting twist!

Fiona is delighted as the visitors abound

to view the place a dirty skull was lifted from the ground.

And Lou and our Fiona forge a friendship (quite profound),

but Lou’s still not convinced that all the evidence is sound.

Now, Fidgetton is overrun with tonnes of rowdy folks;

a cavalcade of tourists – all Fiona ever hoped!

But, as the crowd proliferates, how will Fiona cope?  

And is the skull an honest find, or is it just a hoax?

The show’s about the truth and lies, and rural places too,

and tourists in the countryside – the good and bad they do –

and being careful what you wish, in case that wish comes true,

and whether lies are justified – we’ll find out in Act Two!

We wrote it to explore the ways that stories coalesce,

coz what people believe depends on what they like the best. 

A rumour can manoeuvre and the porkies can progress 

until a whole community’s embroiled in the mess! 

The team’s obsessed with hoaxes and with archaeology,

and showing modern rural lives on stage and on TV.

The show’s a mix of movement, panto, and of comedy,

with rhyming parts to underline emotionality.

Our R&D was funded, so the show is looking slick;

we’ve booked in our creative team, the project’s pretty sick,

but now we need some touring cash to run this theatre schtick.

(We’re hoping we can tour the play in twenty-twenty-six.)

We’re keen to speak to tech experts to help us on the road,

and have a chat with funders to finance the touring show.

We want to tour the Midlands with our characters in tow: 

so, if you’d like to work with us, then please, just let us know! 

And, if you happen to be either a rural venue looking for a fun new play for your 2026 programme, or a fabulously wealthy patron of the arts with a keen interest in silly comedies - drop me a message, and let's get this show on the road!

Illustration by Hannah Radenkova