Like my writing partner Laurence [Marks], I grew up on radio comedy - the Goons, Round the Horne, Hancock's Half Hour. In 1978, when we got our first break as writers, it was on radio, writing for the legendary Frankie Howerd.
Then we broke into TV, and it took nearly 30 years to break out again - in fact My Blue Heaven was originally written for the telly. But the comedy guy at BBC TV - he's not there any more - said he thought MBH was too Stoppardian - maybe because an elderly female character keeps reminiscing about having sex with great 20th century philosophers.
Happily, Stoppardian is good if you're writing for Radio 4, and it didn't take them long to say they liked our re-write. Which is, as they say, nice, because it meant that we had learned the tricks of the trade; loads of sound effects, plus characters using each other's names at every opportunity.
The major difference between radio and TV drama is the time element. We recorded My Blue Heaven in two days, with a terrific cast. We got to direct, too, which is a blast, though not that difficult as long as you've got a four-colour ballpoint to keep track of the different takes. It helps to have an experienced producer and a bunch of studio managers [the posh term for sound effects wizards] to simulate all the noises you can imagine: A large squishy anorak, when compressed, sounds like someone sinking into a squidgy sofa.
The downside of writing radio is the obvious one - modest cash. A 45-minute play is two days work for the actors, two months' work for the writers. Laurence and I have been around long enough to afford to do radio for the fun of it. But to attract new writing talent, the BBC might have to divert some of Jonathan Ross's wages to where they're really needed.
