It's been quite a while since I blogged on my website and there are a number of reasons why...
In the last six months I've been engaged, married, been growing a baby, and have been very busy with long and time-consuming voice and writing projects that have made me forget entirely about this wee website of mine.
But now, it's the Gregorian new year of 2022, 6 days after the Spring festival of Imbolc (when the shoots of the new year are really beginning), and the Year of the Tiger is now also underway, so there's just enough 'new' to get me going with some of my missed commitments of recent times.
One of the time-consuming projects I was delighted to be a part of is the above video - an audiobook for author Signe Knutson and Audible called Make Money Magic: 13 Easy Charms.
This was a delight to produce for many reasons - I got to stretch my accent wings as a neutral British narrator for this one, and learn a lot of practical and magical money tips to increase my cash flow along the way... always a welcome gift as a self-employed woman!
Signe is releasing snippets of the book over on her channel, Money Magic. So, if you're in the market for a bit of a magical money boost (and in this economy, who isn't?) head over there and get the juices flowing.
You can hear more of my narration work on Audible here ( a new book is coming to my roster very soon!)
And you can hear some of my recent work on my Youtube channel, which I update as often as possible with work as it is released in the public domain, here.
Thanks for listening. If you like what you hear you can book me here.
Usually I'm the one doing the interviewing these days, when I'm podcasting with Film Network Ireland, but for a change I let Mark L'estrange interview me for his Author's Tuesday series of podcasts. Mark is a prolific podcaster, with two, sometimes three, episodes released a week, including tips from NLP specialist, Orlando Zucchetto.
Here, we chat about my writing, my new novelette coming soon from Open Pen London, and my work as a voice-over artist.
WILDFIRE was nominated for 5 #IFTA awards this year (6 including Cathy Brady's Rising Star nomination!) and came home with 2 at the ceremony on July 4th - Best Director for Cathy and Best Actress - Film for the late, great Nika McGuigan, which was presented to her family. It was a beautiful tribute to the labour of love that is Wildfire, as well as an important honouring of the life & work of Nika McGuigan, who as well as being a magnificently talented actress, was also my friend. I know she's raising a glass of champagne - or perhaps a tequila-on-the-rocks - to us all now from her place among the stars. Cheers to you, Niks!
WILDFIRE had its first public screening in London's BFI on the summer solstice a fortnight ago, and I was lucky enough to be there to see it shown for the first time as it was meant to be seen - on the big screen.
I wanted to capture the magic of cinema again after so long being cooped up and confined to experiencing film through our laptops, so I brought my Zoom along to London and recorded the experience, in all its plush red velvet and surround-sound glory, live. I also managed to grab Cathy Brady and one of the film's co-leads, the IFTA nominated Nora-Jane Noone, afterwards for a chat. We talked about the long, challenging, and, at times, heartbreaking journey of this film from rehearsal room to screen, the magic of cinema, and what's coming next for the talented pair. Listen here!
Whilst trawling Youtube, I came across an old character of mine, the vibrant adventuress Amelie in Lux Vide's animated series 'The Extraordinary Adventures of Jules Verne.'
I had a great time voicing this cartoon, with all its exploration across the earth and under the sea - lots of efforts, grunts, and generally fun foley was required.
It makes me want to do another animation ASAP!
Enjoy the clips, and if it's being shown somewhere near you, I hope you're loving watching it as much as we did making it.
Yesterday, as Facebook likes to do sometimes, it showed me a memory. Most of the time when this happens I'd scroll past barely heeding it, let it draw a small chuckle as I briefly return to that time/space/messy night for a flickering moment, only to move on again swiftly to the next item on the agenda.
But this one made me pause. I was taken out of the torrential rain and blustering of an unseasonably cold May(vember) in my home studio of County Wicklow, Ireland, and brought straight back to a hot, sweaty and bustling London city, into a studio - Maple Street Creative - with a host of other artists all boxed into a small space with not a shred of social distancing in sight...
I was there after responding to a social media call out from VO East Africa, who had been looking for willing voice artists to contribute their time and talents pro bono to raising awareness of the drought-induced famine in East Africa at the time for the World Food Programme. A host of creatives turned up - not just actors and voice-overs, but writers and producers, too. They came from all over to various studios - we were just the London crew. Some joined in remotely. Of course, if it was to happen again today, it would be entirely remote. There would be no squeezing into a small studio in a heatwave, sharing air-conditioned air and booth space that hadn't been meticulously sanitised.
In that one 'memory' I realised just how vastly things have changed. Not just for me personally - I no longer live in London nor go on the actors' casting circuit these days - but globally. For everyone. It made me wonder - just how much has life changed for each individual in that photo, brought together on one day in May almost a decade ago? I can't recall most of their names, though I am still friends with a few of them on social media. Of the few I still see updates from, I know Nii Ayikwei Parkes is still a successful author, Mike Cooper still a successful voice-over (and a goat herd!) somewhere across the Atlantic. I don't know where Joseph, who organised it all, is these days - I don't see him often around Twitter.
It made me miss London fiercely - even the suffocating tube on hot days. Though I highly doubt the sight of a packed and sweaty tube carriage is something that even exists at the moment. And it makes me miss the random creative unions that a life with spontaneity and freedom of movement allows. I'm sure a time will soon come when things like this can happen again. In person, live and direct. Where travel can again be spur of the moment and freeing, instead of anxiety-inducing. It will soon come. And I am more than ready for it.
Things have changed for many of us, but sadly for the people of East Africa, they are still the same. On and off since the drought of 2011, they have been dealing with food crisis after food crisis. To learn more and to help, go here.
I spent a lovely hour chatting to the award-winning Irish actress and writer/director, Eva Birthistle, for this FNI Wrapchat.
We spoke about the rise of the female actor/auteur, forging new career paths and her lovely London kitchen.
Have a listen above or on any of these podcast locations here.
I spent a lovely hour chatting all thing uplifting in visual storytelling with cinematographer and director, Cathy Dunne. Cathy's moving and nostalgic short, 'Imprints' is currently showing at the DIFF, and well worth a watch. She was also responsible for the wonderful Through the Pane series that brought a lot of light in during the darkness of early lockdown in 2020.
We discuss the concepts of distance and closeness, the importance of family, and the obligation of the artist to their audience. Have a listen!
More on FNI and all their wonderful resources for creatives in the film and television industry, here.
You forget what you've gotten up to over the years (15 of them at this stage!).
Today I'm remembering this excellent award-winning animation I voiced when Giant Animation were in their early days.
A lot of screaming was involved...
It's months into the third lockdown in a year, and the rain outside my dimly lit studio window is torrential. It's also a Friday, but without the prospect of any sort of recognisable weekend. Such concepts don't really count these days.
Which is why I think that this audiobook I voiced for Audible, Susanne O'Leary's 'A Holiday to Remember' is the perfect antidote to our collective pandemic malaise.
Following two women whose unexpected lottery win sees them sighing over cerulean waters as they skirt the European coastline in their snazzy red convertible, this - at times hilariously far-fetched - romp of hedonistic pleasure and luxury could not be more perfect for the inevitable dullness so many of us are experiencing in captivity.
Give it a listen - it might just be the virtual shot of Vitamin D you need to keep you going until spring arrives in earnest.
Here's a short snippet (below) of the first chapter via my soundcloud.
You can buy the full audiobook here.
I had a way of doing things with writing in the past that eventually burned me out. Taking on Donal Ryan's 'scattergun' approach - it worked out well for him, didn't it? - I was sending short stories out to journals and competitions left, right, and centre, whilst finishing my second book, ghost writing, writing articles, applying to arts councils and residencies, and keeping up voiceover work to pay the bills. I suppose many a writer would read this and say, so what? So do we all. But what I learned through doing that for a few years with an extremely low hit rate, if any at all, was that all that output with no response was extremely draining for me. Perhaps other writers thrive off the uncertainty, are even emboldened by it, but after decades in an artistic landscape, first as an actress, then as a writer and voiceover artist, I have come to tire of the 'no guarantee' lifestyle. For me, it seemed that the thinner I spread myself with writing, the harder it was for any of my work to land. I learned I need to sink in to a piece more deeply for it to render into what it needs to be. I need time and space and a slow pace - not just for the work itself but for my own peace of mind.
It's not that I never want to write again. I just want to write less. I want to care less. I want to be less hinged upon the outcome of pressing GO on Submittable. I am trying to cultivate a state that if I never do get a piece published or placed again that it won't affect me so deeply. Of course, it still does. But I am learning to let go more and more.
One of the ways I am going about that is to focus on one project at a time. So, as I finished my second novel (now looking for its publishing home through my lovely agent, Paul Feldstein), I did nothing else but that. I wrote my novel. I ignored, with difficulty, the many tweets about competition entries and submission windows, and what seemed like endless wins in the #amwriting news on Twitter, all the while fighting the mounting panic that I was doing something very wrong - that I was missing opportunity after opportunity, and slipping away ever more deeply into the shadowlands of obscurity. I forced myself to focus. I took a year or two and wrote until I was as happy as I could be with it, then I gave it into the hands of my agent. Then, I took a break. A long one. I didn't think about writing anything new. I didn't think about submitting anything old, with a new title, to the same journal, in the hopes I would do what that writer that I read about who did that once (was it Stephen King? Ian McEwan? Martin Amis? Google fails me) on the editors and this time, they would like it.
For a while, I was completely over it. Over writing, over trying to 'be' a writer, over everyone else who was one. I barely read for about a year. I could only read non-fiction, one chapter at a time, or maybe a short story here and there. Novels felt like a life-sentence - I think the only two I managed to finish were Kate O'Brien's Mary Lavelle and the latest Pullman Book of Dust - and that was HARD. What would ordinarily have been consumed in a day or two took me months to get through. The whole thing just wore me out, I think. Maybe it was because I had so many wins early on with my first book that felt so promising, all coming to nothing. About six years of that - it was extraordinarily demoralising, more than I realised at the time. I kept pushing through thinking, next one, next one, next one. I came to my senses, finally.
This blog post is really just an acknowledgement of all of that - that it was difficult, that it was trying, and that it ground me down. It is also a quiet marking of my recent first foray, after a long hiatus, of beginning to submit things again. I dipped a toe into arts council waters, and send a story out to one or two carefully chosen potential homes. I have already received one rejection. It smarted a little, but no matter. Quietly, gently, and with a lighter heart, I think I'll try again.
RM Clarke is a writer and voice-over artist. She has written for various literary mags and anthologies and won awards. She has put her voice to most things she can think of.