How do you go about the collaboration process between writer and director?

Co-directing Verge with Lowell Belfield was fairly stressful because we had negligible relevant experience, but collaboratively painless. We both had a lot of input. He's a comic mastermind and a great writer, so he was a big help in redrafting the play and preventing me from doing terrible, terrible things. We both came up with ideas for the direction. There were very few disagreements, really, and those that we did have were settled in the traditional way. You know the one. We like to keep it simple.

 

What influences you most in your work?

Playwriting? I don't know, actually. I'd been reading a lot of Alan Bennett, Jez Butterworth and Polly Stenham when I wrote the play, so they're probably in there, somewhere. Poetry-wise, my main influences have been listening to too much hip-hop, and discovering Gerard Manley Hopkins on Wikipedia after seeing the phrase "sprung rhythm" on the back of some book in Waterstone’s. Also, probably, Ginsberg and MacNeice. I wish I could write like Alice Oswald, but I can't.

How do you think Cambridge has affected your writing?

It's made me actually do it. I only wrote my play because the opportunity was there, really — the whole infrastructure is in place already, and you can have a go at putting something on even if you haven't got the slightest idea of what you're supposed to be doing. You just don't have that option, in the real world. Well, maybe you do. Do you? I have no idea.

What is your primary aim in your writing?

I'm in it for the money.

What do you think is most important element in writing a play?

Don't just have your characters sitting in one place talking for the entire thing. Apparently hard-hitting dialogue and sparkling wit are not enough. Audiences like movement. Make something move. What move where? Doesn't matter. Anything. Could be a person. Could be a shoe. The world is your oyster.

Do you ever feel intimidated by the literary giants of the past?

They're mostly dead, aren't they? They're all mush and matter. I could take them.

Do you write with a particular message in mind or does it come through naturally?

No, I don't think so. There are going to be implicit messages or significances to everything you say or do. There's a significant degree of subjectivity to it, in terms of reception, so I don't think it's worth worrying about. I have, however, been accused of Themes.

What forum of writing do you prefer?

I really like writing plays, actually. I wish I'd tried it earlier. There's something very freeing, but also very focused about just dealing with speech and action in that way. The process of writing poetry can be a bit unpleasant, at times — it's a question of precision and compression, so a lot of effort goes into making quite a minimal product.

As a budding writer, what do you feel is the greatest challenge for you in your writing?

Knowing when not to pursue an idea. I have a lot of ideas which are just stupid, or which I find funny but nobody else would. They're also the most fun to write, though.

What do you like most about the Cambridge literary scene?

I quite like the fact that it isn't really a scene. It's more of a loose-knit cluster of clusters, like a Christmas jumper from your alcoholic grandmother.

What are your aspirations for writing in the future?

Again, staggering wealth. I hear there's a lot of money to be had in the publishing industry.

Any upcoming projects?

I'm getting ready to write my second play at the minute. It's about Jonathan Ross, dead rappers, and the end of the world. I've identified a niche in the market, and I'm going for it. So, yes, there's that. Cambridge, 2011. Don't miss it.