How do you grieve someone who’s still alive?

Hope has lost her father…. trouble is, he’s still alive… and thinks he wrote the Bible. Everyday Roger Brimming swims out to sea – but not back – and everyday Hope picks him up in a boat. Everyday but one. With the arrival of an uninvited visitor, Hope is folded into a choice she didn’t see coming.

Cracked won an Edinburgh Fringe First 2001 and toured to Hong Kong and The Darlinghurst Theatre Sydney before being adapted for radio and produced by ABC Radio National (Australia). I wrote and performed the piece, and voiced the character of Hope for radio. Cracked tells the story of the daughter of a famous sci-fi author and schizophrenic. Hope is content to continue rescuing her father in his daily attempt to swim to the horizon until his publisher arrives expecting the latest manuscript, and she must choose a way of letting go whilst holding on. I drew on my own experiences as the daughter of someone who suffered the illness in writing the piece, though it is not auto-biographical – (having never successfully rowed a boat to rescue someone from a suicide attempt, I am not documenting my own experience. I am, however, fascinated by our obsession with truth in fiction.) The piece is from the carer’s point of view. Audiences over-whelmingly told me how the story reminded them of their own experience, whether that were letting go of a loved one due to dementia, heartbreak, old age or mental illness…..

“A tiny, but almost perfect show… a haunting and beautifully structured piece.”
“….a haunting reminder of some of the big questions asked.”
(Joyce McMillan, The Scotsman)

“this is theatrical monologue at its devastating best.”
(Sunday Herald, Picks of the Week)

“it is life’s most terrible, hopeless moments grounded in bangers and mash.”
(Andrew Eaton, The Scotsman)

“An engaging and ultimately heart-wrenching piece. It is a real joy to see a performer who can bring together text, character and story with such power, beauty and skill”
(Christopher Heiberg, Edinburgh Guide)

“Skye Loneragan’s rye and brilliantly pithy monologue perfect miniature.”
(Neil Cooper, The Herald)