Ladies, fellas and gentleTHEMs. I am here, a disabled, part Irish, queer. Allegedly anyway, I could be Swedish.
As I type this I’m colouring a white bin I got from Ikea with a felt tip pen, it’s easing my anxiety despite being the most inefficient way to have a green bin.
Why am I anxious? Could be I’m writing this five hours after my partner discovered a leak in the kitchen, two days after sending my script to my mentor, one week after moving home, one month after starting a new job.
I’m ashamed to admit I hated reading and writing as a kid, but one day I saw a god ugly pink faux snakeskin notebook that thirteen year old emo-esque me just HAD TO HAVE.
And then, all at once my maladaptive daydreaming had a purpose and somewhere deep inside there was a little spark going “Finally, took you long enough”.
The first story was a YA Sci Fi war and was quite frankly terrible. That notebook took up 80 pages of dyslexic scribble, imagine every angsty and embarrassing thought you had as a teenager compiled into one illegible book from Beales. I never reread any of it. But I did carry on scribbling new stories.
I kept that little spark hidden for years until I finally said the words out loud, I started to actually dip my toes into the written waters. And here I am, absolutely joyous to say hello.
My fellow Wellspringers (please read in a Texan accent), are all amazing.
Can’t decide if I’m mildly in love or want to be them. They were all a great help regarding my main weakness which is in fact critique. I have spent my life around very grumpy artistic types who will say “Yeah I enjoyed that” only to then list sixteen things they hated about it, so I was always stubborn about saying how scripts made me feel. But I’ve learned from them, I can analyse art and be kind.
I’ve honestly loved Wellspring more than anything, every lesson encouraged me to write in a way I never experienced trying to do it on my own. I’m now better than I was six months ago and the urge to write is never waning like it used to.
My play is supposed to be a surreal comedy about a record shop on an asteroid. There’s also a tissue paper monster and a saxophone player, the one sax musician I know will probably want to star in it now.
Sorry, Jon. It’s a no from me.
That little spark wants desperately for this to be the start of my writing career but that same little spark also wants to be a duckling. My goal is for this to be the first of many plays, but if it isn’t? I’ve still gained a deeper love of theatre, earned more friends and self confidence than I had my entire life.
No matter what, that spark now knows she’s a writer.
Ellie Dunn (she / her), Wellspring Writer 2023 – 2024
Ellie has been working in TV and film since 2019 and has seen it all. She was diagnosed with dyslexia at the age of nine, dyspraxia at the age of eleven and by twenty she developed a chronic case costochondritis which she likes to claim is “a bit annoying”.
LinkedIn: Ellie Dunn