A leap into the unknown — but nothing has made me feel so alive as becoming a playwright

There ’ s a question that is increasingly keeping me awake at night: I ’ m a 46-year-old political consultant and divorcee. So what on earth makes me think I could write, stage and direct a play about love? No, wait. Not just a play – a musical play!

Well , next week, we will find out if I can. No Cure for Love is running at the Lion and Unicorn Theatre as part of the Camden Fringe for three performances from Thursday to Saturday. It runs for an hour and has five songs written jointly between myself and my fabulous musical director Jordon Brown.

Along the way I have hired two superb actors – Stephen Russell and Wendy Morgan, both of whom seem to instinctually understand the characters they are playing and the intentions behind their actions – however clunky they are. We ’ ve also been encouraged and supported by the Lion and Unicorn team – in particular their Artistic Director David Brady. The theatre world is a lovely, close knit community and I have been happily a part of it as an audience member and occasional critic for years. But putting myself on the other side of the divide between stage and audience is far more of a leap into the unknown than I had bargained for.

Putting on a play has been a lifelong ambition. As a little girl, I would host puppet plays at my grandparents ’ house (always starring the “ great weightlifting bear” in a cameo, as that was my favourite of their toys). As a teenager I was determined I was going to be an actress and even appeared on the stage at the South Bank Centre in a “youth opera” penned by my then music teacher Stephen Endelman – who has since gone on to a successful career in Hollywood.

But nothing prepared me for how much I didn ’ t know. Jordan will talk to me in detail about modulating key changes and I just look at him blankly until he gives me something to sing along to and then I understand why we simply must go from major to minor at that point.

David sends me layouts of the lighting grid at the theatre and I still can ’ t even tell you which bit is at the front and which is at the back. I know I have a number of very basic lighting moods I wish to achieve. I know I have a technician who comes highly recommended. I am hoping she will be as kind as she is wise.

What I do know, after two years of writing and rewriting, is my play and its two central characters. I know Scott and Rose, and I love Scott and Rose. I love their toughness and their vulnerability, their egos and their fragility. When David was forced to listen to me talk about them endlessly, it was he who convinced me to direct. He was right – I would never have really been able to let someone else do it when I had such a strong and well-formed vision in my head.

So, will I succeed? The truth is, I already have. Come Thursday 12 August, whether the reviews are one star or five, I will be a playwright and director. I will have achieved something few see through.

So what can I – a self-employed,  46 -year-old, childless divorcée have to say about love? Well, quite a lot. I mean I have probably thought about it more than those who have had it easier than I have. I have the space, the willingness and the capacity to take risks and jump off cliffs that I see my more settled friends unable to do – however much some of them may want to. Whether I have successfully translated this to the stage remains to be seen. But my appetite for risk and for leaping remains. And no man has ever made me feel as alive as the thought of 30 to 50 strangers , sat above a pub, watching my work. And maybe the truth about love is that you shouldn ’ t give in until someone does.

No Cure For Love is Emma Burnell ’ s first play. It is being staged at the Lion and Unicorn Theatre in Kentish Town on the 12th, 13th and 14th August.