I am a God

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If you think about it - which I have - it’s true, sort of.

It was looking at all the pictures of the set that did it, then seeing the actors starting to inhabit their characters. I realised that the world and people I had created were being brought to life.

That’s what gods do, isn’t it, make worlds?

Unlike novels, or film or most art, the world you create as a playwright is alive, moving, living, breathing and connecting with real people. It has its own energy, each performance is different, each night the audience react differently. It is alive.

So you create life, which is what gods do, isn’t it?

That is pretty amazing when you think about it, some germ of an idea, a specific place, people you made with all their flaws and hopes, gradually coming to life in front of your eyes. Without you this world would never have existed. Nobody would ever know about your characters, nobody would respond to this part of your imagination made three dimensional and real. Nobody would care about it but you.

I have been thinking about it a lot.

And sure, it wouldn’t happen without the director and the actors and all the other talented people involved. And sure, I’ve created worlds that have previously died on and off the page, and sure, it is only for a few nights. But it still started with what I created and what I made, so that makes me kind of God-like, sort of, almost…

Having worked myself up into an egotistical frenzy I decided to broach my new theory. I found my husband in front of the TV. I stood before him, resplendent and omnipotent in my pajamas and mismatched slippers, holding a glass of juice aloft.

I made a statement rather than asking.

“You do realise that I am a living God?”

He paused before answering.

“You do realise that you’ve spilt Ribena on your top.”

He better watch his back, that’s all I have to say.

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Tags: egotistical, i am a god, playwrights, writing