Denise Scott wrote the fabulous and successful autobiography ‘All that happened at Number 26’ and then created her equally fabulous one woman show from it, ‘Number 26’ which she is now taking to the Sydney Opera House. She graciously had a long lunch with me recently and talked about the book, the show, her career and life in general.
Is there an interesting story about how this book came about?
I always had a fantasy that I’d write a book, but a publisher at Hardy Grant heard me doing breakfast radio on Vega and thought my stories about family would make a good book. So she contacted me. I can describe Vega at times as a bit of a waste of 2 years of my life. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to give the impression it was awful, cause it wasn’t. I was so tired, I didn’t cope with the hours. I’m in my 50s and there’s things I really do want to do. I thought breakfast radio was one of them but I’ve reviewed that. But the good thing is that the book did come out of that and I’ve discovered I love writing and I want to write and I’m writing another one. Unless it’s a best seller though, your not going to make a living out of it, but I like doing it.
Denise had obviously just been to the Brunswick St bookstore as she had a bag bulging with books to read. Do you read other autobiographies and did any inspire you?
When I knew I was going to be writing a book. I tended to avoid reading, because I get so affected by what I read and think ‘That’s good literature, I’m going to write like that’.
Did you seek any advice about writing it from other writers?
I had a lot of people tell me to “Read Tony Martin’s book because he really knows how to turn his life into comedy” and to be honest, that’s what I’ve been doing for 20 years. I just put my head down and bum up and just did it. But I did get some advice from Tony Martin and it was really great, cause I was doubting what I was doing and he said “Because people know it’s true, that it’s really happened, that’s what they read it for” It was really reassuring, because I think some of the stories are dull. My life has been relatively happy, no alcoholism or abuse as a child, so it’s quite a happy book in some ways.
I understand it took a couple of years to write, was it an enjoyable process, cathartic, or a grinding slog or both?
On the whole it was a really good process. It was cathartic, in that I’ve always thought of myself as quite a negative thinker and very self deprecating to the point where I will genuinely dislike a lot of what I’ve done. But writing the book I had to stick with things that I loved writing about and because I was writing about people who are still alive, I found it was really uplifting & thought, actually I’m a really positive person! I learned quite a lot about myself. I’d always assumed I was very disappointed in my career, which I was, but I was really rapt that I’d had this fantastic family experience. Because getting to 50 and writing the book, I thought, if I’d had a very successful career I imagine I wouldn’t be in a much better place than I am now. There isn’t that far to go in Australia, I might be a bit more well known, I may have my own show, unlikely because people like Judith Lucy haven’t, so I don’t know if I would have.
Did you consider that the audience for the book might be different to that of your comedy? Has this proved to be true?
You do get letters and they tend to be handwritten from people who’ve read your book and I think on the whole it’s been women, I’ve had a couple from men. I’m not sure though. What it’s done is that people come up and within 2 seconds they’re telling you an incredibly intimate powerful story. They interpret it as; you told us your story now I can tell you mine. People kind of get the feeling that you’re flawed so they’re happy to talk about their difficulties.
On Spicks & Specks Denise showed a couple of lovely photos depicting stories from her book. So I asked her why are there no photos from your life in the book? (Often my favourite part of a biography)
I decided that a picture gives a definitive image and I didn’t want that, I wanted everyone to create their own images in their heads.
Do you think you will come to regret your honesty? – have you already?
No I haven’t regretted anything in the book, but I certainly understand that my kids think that I’ve done enough talk about them and that’s it. Hence my next book’s a fiction, but it is about a 54 year old comedian on a Comedy Festival Roadshow. No I don’t regret anything, but it’s done.
Has …Number 26 been successful enough to please the publishers?
Yes, it’s gone well really, for an Australian book. It’s all relative, but enough for them to give me another go.
While you were raising kids did you always have it in the back of your mind to go back into comedy & did you worry that you’d missed the boat.
I did feel like I was definitely missing the boat. When I did go out to do things like The Big Gig, I just felt really disconnected from everyone else from the life they were leading and I hadn’t been out in the comedy world enough to understand what it was like. I was really very naïve. I didn’t think I was at the time, but I was very, very naïve. I didn’t ask for help much and I couldn’t really go and seek gigs ‘cause I had kids to look after. Not only had I not done much comedy, but I hadn’t seen much either. In hindsight, I could’ve been a bit more organised and I realise now that seeing comedy is so educational. Though saying that I don’t really choose to see a lot of comedy, which is weird, I love watching a drama or going out to see a band but don’t watch much comedy.
You mention in the book getting a TV relatively recently…
When I started on the Big Gig I don’t think we had a TV. I didn’t even see the show, I didn’t know what was going on. We did have a little B&W hidden in a wardrobe when the kids were little that we’d bring out for Wimbledon or whatever.
Did your kids feel deprived?
We got a bigger one and let the kids watch some telly a bit later. But the kids tell me they’re really happy about it, they credit it with fostering their creative careers.
I got the impression from the book that it was when you decided to take having a career seriously that a lot of the problems happened. Like many women in history you had to struggle for your time and space to write.
It was confronting and difficult, but I felt it was very typical of the middle class, baby boomer generation, both absolutely assuming that we could have it all and the reality kicked in and that’s what we were fighting over. Who does compromise? Now I look back and I wish I’d just been able to enjoy being a mum without getting so alarmed about pushing so hard to get work, on the other hand I’m really glad I did. I just didn’t think it was fair and I still think that. I don’t see why it’s naturally assumed that the man is going to have his full work day and then I might get 30 minutes for my work. To do it well, comedy takes a lot of time. It was a battle worth having and it still happens, but now I don’t need to rely on John since the kids have grown up.
Who has inspired you?
I was just thinking, do you know who inspires me now? This’ll blow your mind, Olivia Newton John, I watched her singing at the Melbourne Cup and I’m thinking she looks really happy! Apart from the fact that she looks really stunning, she’s quite a joyful person, despite all the rough times she’s had. She’s still singing , but I get the sense that it’s quite a small part of her life, she’s got her retreat and her herb farm and stuff. As far as comedians go, Judith Lucy has been inspiring to me and it might be cliché to say it, but she really did teach me a lot especially about work ethic. I also saw it with Jean Kitson, but it was working with Judith where I learned that you’ve got to actually just knuckle down like homework and get it done. I’d be faffing around and she’d say “Why don’t you just fucking write it?” And then not be content til it was the best it could be. That’s the other thing, ‘cause I used to think ‘Oh that’ll do” but you work with someone like Judith and it’s never ‘Oh that’s good enough’, she’d be like ‘Oh no it’s not.’ I was also inspired by Graham Kennedy, ‘cause I grew up with him and I really love Joyce Grenfell. My mum & Uncle Frank took me to see her when she performed in Melbourne, I was probably 10 and I remember that’s when it occurred to me that you can be a woman and perform on stage and have nothing and tell a story. That’s when I decided that’s what I wanted to do. I can’t imagine why they took me, they must have seen this in me as well, because they didn’t take my sister, just me.
In the book you mention being sacked, gigs that go horribly wrong etc…Does it ever become more bearable? Do you have any advice about how to deal with it.
Well I advise people not to lose their minds and really berate powerful people, it’s such a small industry, maybe you could try to be a bit more diplomatic. It’s easy advice to give. Try not to care so much, that’s what you learn. People in especially the comedy world, though also in other industries are very self absorbed & at the end of the day they are so caught up in their own stuff, you’re the last person on their list. So whatever has happened – and I’ve had some quite hideous hurtful things happen – to try to not care because it’s not the be all and end all of your life… and to make it that, I reckon is a mistake. Have something else that brings you happiness, so you don’t have to rely on it. This is really cliché but I would advise comedians to do something for someone else, ‘cause it makes you feel better. Have your comedy career, but its all so about you and you get so absorbed and obsessed; with what gigs you did and didn’t get, who’s getting paid more, who got the biggest laughs on the night, who you’re as good as, who got the gig you hoped for, all that sort of thing. It can get really fucking boring. It can be boring to live with and boring as a party guest. I worry that it eats away at your soul, so I think all comedians need someone or something else, a pet, anything to think about, to keep them sane.
My family really helped with that. I’d get home from a bad gig and they’d be oblivious to it and you’d just forget about it.
How has fame treated you, I’m guessing you become more famous with regular TV appearances. Does it sit well with you? Do you mind strangers talking to you as if you are a friend?
Honestly, fame’s not something I’ve had to stress about, though, certainly now, from appearing on Spicks & Specks I get a bit more recognised. But I’ve never had an issue with being famous, so I felt quite liberated to write the book, ‘cause, I’m not quite a nobody, but I would call it an interesting little life. Whereas someone like Rove writing their autobiography, I imagine they’d have to be so cautious.
Is that why you didn’t mention the industry as much as your family because you were worried about naming other names?
In the end the book was about the house. The book I’m writing now though, although it’s not about the industry as such, but because it is set on a comedy Roadshow tour, there are comedians on board and that angst and self obsession is part of the book.
Why did you chose to go into Comedy, did you really think it would be easier than acting? I’ve gotten the impression over the years that many out of work actors do it just to get on stage and be seen and think it will be easy.
I was an actor of sorts in the beginning, but I was a hopeless dramatic actress, I felt I could be someone else, but only if they were funny, but now I’m performing as myself, I find the idea of being someone else ridiculous.
I reckon Comedy attracts people who really don’t want to be faffing around with other people The responsibility is on the comedian to to their 20 minutes and if you get me a mike I’ll get it done. You don’t have to rely on someone liking you to get the work, you don’t have to audition. That’s what is often so attractive about comedy. And it’s rubbed off on my kids, because they are very into being in control of every aspect of their work. I didn’t know for years what looking after yourself involved, as far as your work went, they’ve obviously seen it and know what to do now.
I find the time I put into my work now is endless though I still do family things, visiting parents and supporting the kids. I find I’m so excited about working now, because I had kids when I started and I was committed to them, well I had to be because John was off doing his clowning stuff, so I’m really excited now to do it. I get amazed every time I’m given work and I’m more realistic now. I don’t expect to appear on things like Rove, it’s a young demographic, but having said that, I get on The 7pm Project. I’m much more generous now that I’m older, I really do want people to have good careers and lots of work to be shared around.
You’ve been around quite a long time in a fairly young industry, has the comedy industry changed do you think?
It certainly has from when I started, I think in some ways our naivity helped, this was in the 80s, though comedy had been around since vaudeville and Graham Kennedy, but my knowledge was pretty much that. Maybe some people knew about American style stand up, but I didn’t. I also think that the audiences that turned up in the 80s were up for anything. I remember I felt braver about going in to do it, maybe I’m wrong, but it felt like there was more room for failure and for trying things that were a little more left field. Then it went through this period where if you weren’t doing, pretty much straight stand up you were kind of…less accepted. You know that full-on American style, which I think is hard for Australians to do well, though there are a few who are great at it.
I do think people are more used to seeing women. That is different. Maybe that’s an age thing, but I used to be terrified, simply as woman, before gigs I’d think, well, what are they going to yell out?
Did they?
Yes
Because I’ve never experience that, I guess I was a bit sheltered and went to nice places like the original Last Laugh and the Cheese Shop, The Planet, etc…
Oh, there have been some terrible heckles people say awful things..
You’ve had an amazing array of experiences, with group work, plays, sketch shows, talk shows, stand up, panel shows and so on. What sort of gigs are enjoyable / not so enjoyable?
I think I found that the full frontals and sketch shows aren’t really my thing. I found that hard. I just feel more comfortable doing my own stuff. I really believe that right now because of the tendency to make cheap TV, like panel shows, I reckon that’s why I’m getting known, because I like being myself. I’m really comfortable and also, suddenly what I do is paying off. I started enjoying doing corporates lately. I don’t do a lot of them, but I find them challenging and I enjoy that challenge. Sometimes, just about everything I’ve written is irrelevant to the gig, because although sometimes they do want someone to do some straight stand up, a lot of times, they just want to hear about themselves not about you. It’s about affirming what they do. I like researching Patties Pies for example. Since I’ve had my new mantra of you do what you do and they like you or they don’t, you can’t be worrying about whether they are going to like you.
I really feel I’m at my best on that sort of gameshow format, where you’ve got the context of the game, but that’s not really what its about.
I like that it’s not about winning, but just playing and having a good time. So I’m wondering, does anyone take it seriously and get narked when their team loses?
Yeah! Oh absolutely, And you think, that’s weird, why would you care? I can’t understand that! Or there are people who remember, ‘Oh your team on Spicks & Specks won last week’ I don’t remember, ‘cause I don’t care. When Jordie and I were on together after we recorded Spicks and Specks together a few months ago that’s all his friends would ask him ‘Did you win?’ Like that is the most irrelevant part.
We were all watching Spicks & Specks together the other night, John, Jordy & I, which was weird, ‘cause normally if I’m on I don’t watch, ‘cause it’s horrible, gee I’m sad we got such a big TV ‘cause I’m hideous, just horrible. When we got to the bit where they get up to sing from the book, I said to Jordie, Ah did you do the singing from the book for our team? What book did you sing from? He said ‘Can’t you remember!’ And I went ‘Nah’ and he said ‘You’ll see’ (he sang from All that Happened at Number 26)
Do you have any advice to offer our young comedian readers?
I’d advise anyone in comedy to try and think outside your own head, because being bitter is just insane at the end of the day. Because your career is what it is, the industry is what it is, but I came to this understanding, like a sudden realisation, a bolt out of the blue, that my job is to go out and do the very best I can at giving people a laugh. It seems obvious. I am there to serve them. Whereas I’d always gone out thinking my happiness was about the audience and how they were going to judge me, if they were going to like me, whereas I kind of let go of all of that and just thought, ‘well that’s irrelevant’, I go out and do what I do hoping that they find it funny, that’s all I can do. It was incredibly big relief to me not to be saying to myself ‘Oh I hope they like me, maybe they’ll find me too crude’, Now I think, It’s ridiculous, you do what you do and you can’t afford to get too bogged down in what people think. It’s pointless what people think, so avoiding bitterness is crucial. It can be hard though because it can be so brutal, people say the most horrible things sometimes. I can imagine with Twitter now…
Are you up with all the new technology and networking etc. Do you feel you have to be?
Yeah, I’m big on computers and notebooks. Love notebooks and email. Every now and again I do make that desperate mistake of googling my name and I come up with things like – I didn’t think anyone would bother writing about the size of my nose! I didn’t think it was that big, so I just don’t go there.
What are you enjoying right now
I will say I do think it’s amazing that I’m doing a show at the Opera House.
That’s Number 26?
Yes, and that’s the first time, apart from the one with Lynda and Judith, that I’ve done a Comedy Festival show that’s gone on to somewhere else. It’s almost like as soon as I gave up on that notion of pursuing fame – I felt, you’d be mad to hang on to it in your late 40s. I just let it all go, but I thought, I really did want a go at having really good management, or just stop doing it. I knew I couldn’t go on without that. But I felt as soon as I decided to just try and enjoy it rather than be angsty, its been just Great! Though I do still worry. Some people have said that maybe audiences won’t show up to these performances in Sydney – but they will next time and I think , well Geeze! I don’t know how long I’ve got left to live!! I don’t have the time!
I always thought that I fancied fame and that that was what I was aspiring to but then I realised that in fact deep down I didn’t want it – well I got my wish! (laughs). Well in the big world. If I keep being on television I might become a household name, but you know that comes & goes like that. Within a minute, people have forgotten you. It really is true. I mean, someone like Graham Kennedy is different, sure. There’s a lot of hard work and I ‘spose luck in making the right decisions, but you never know.
That’s why I’m enjoying writing the book. I don’t know what happens if you become a famous writer. Maybe you have to start worrying about what you’re writing, or making it a best seller. At the moment I’m finding hibernating with it terrific. I do worry, I’m worried about where it’s going to go, ‘cause I’m trying to write a novel. It’s done my head in, I’ve had to restart it literally six times but I’m enjoying it.
Denise will be performing ‘Number 26’ at the Sydney Opera House from the 19th to the 29th of November. Bookings can be made through the Opera House Website.
‘All That Happened at Number 26’ is published by Hardie Grant Books and is available at bookstores throughout Australia including Dymocks.
Many thanks to Denise for her time.