Hello you.

Yes, you - squatting in that awkward corner of Samuel French (somewhere between Bartlett and Chekhov). I see you. You’re spending another gloomy afternoon scouring page after page for that monologue. You know the one - it’s profound without being showy; not overdone; funny and tragic in equal parts; fits your casting and age bracket perfectly – in short, it’s the one that will make every audition panel, agent and casting director in the land instantly fall in love with you. Yeah, that one. How’s the search going?

Thought so. Being an actor is notoriously hard. We’re often broke, unemployed or modelling ironically warm polar bear costumes for a well-know American clothing brand (never again). At times it feels like we’re a one-person business with no business acumen, floundering around in a confusing and corrupt pond of inifinitely lovelier and a bigger fish. We also have to justify our excellent life choices to a plethora of well-meaning, but ultimately unenlightened, relatives and friends who have normal (read: Muggle) things like mortgages, pensions and a profound sense of wellbeing.

More of that last one later, but first, know this: you’re not alone. Just because the world is a shitstorm, it doesn’t mean there aren’t pockets of goodness out there. The Mono Box is one of those good places. Usually someone with an ego bigger than my thighs talks about creating a ‘safe space’ – but I mean it, with no lacing of sarcasm, when I say that The Mono Box is a sa