Hello you.
Yes, you. The solo producer refreshing your inbox. The director who’s also doing the lighting plot. The company who’ve crowdfunded their set and borrowed a van from someone’s uncle.
Stop hovering.
You are absolutely allowed to email Theatre Village.
Let’s clear something up straight away.
We do not charge for coverage.
We do not run paid features dressed up as journalism.
We do not send invoices disguised as “opportunities.”
We do not ask for freebies, hampers, gift cards, luxury popcorn, or “exposure swaps”…
(although if the popcorn were a brand new experimental flavour, Grace reserves the right to conduct a strictly professional investigation. For journalistic purposes. Naturally 🙂
There are no hidden trapdoors under the contact form.
The guvnor himself, Andrew, has been quoted as one of the ethical reviewers. It’s in the media kit if you fancy a peek. That means no pay-to-play, no backroom deals, no awkward “so what’s the budget?” conversations. If we publish something, it’s because we believe it has substance.
Also worth knowing: we don’t run ads. We don’t monetise the site. Theatre Village isn’t a click-farm chasing banner revenue. It exists because Andrew loves theatre and wants it talked about properly.
And here’s something that matters.
Andrew started in youth theatre.
He knows what it’s like to stand in a rehearsal room that smells faintly of dust and ambition. He understands graft. He understands community halls, rehearsal nights, and the terror of opening night when the budget was smaller than the prop table.
So when you email, you’re not pitching into a void. You’re speaking to someone who has stood where you’re standing.
Now, before anyone panics, let me say this clearly:
We absolutely promote bigger shows too. Touring productions. Established companies. Larger budgets. Ballet, musicals, national tours, the lot. Theatre Village isn’t anti-big. A good show is a good show whether it’s in a studio space or under a chandelier.
But here’s the thing I’ve noticed while delivering the post.
The bigger shows are rarely shy. They have PR teams. They have confidence. They have emails already drafted and ready to go.
It’s the smaller-budget productions that hesitate.
The one-writer play.
The experimental piece.
The community-led show.
The company who’s poured their savings and their sleep into something fragile and wonderful.
You lot sit there thinking:
“Are we big enough?”
“Will they take us seriously?”
“Is our pitch professional enough?”
Listen carefully.
Your voice is as worthy as a bigger show’s voice.
Budget size does not equal importance.
Marketing spend does not equal meaning.
A West End transfer does not automatically make a story more vital than something happening in a black box on a Wednesday night.
What matters to us is the heartbeat.
Tell us:
What is the show?
Where is it?
Why does it matter?
What are you trying to say?
If there’s thought, care, courage, or originality in your pitch, we’ll run with it. That’s how this works.
You don’t need a glossy press release written in theatrical hieroglyphics. You don’t need to sound like you swallowed a funding application. A clear, honest message goes a very long way.
And if you’re worried about tone… relax. You’re not emailing a marble statue. You’re emailing a village. We understand that sometimes the lighting desk is temperamental, the rehearsal space is cold, and the cast are also on front-of-house duty.
So please.
If you’re hovering over that contact page wondering whether to press send…
Press it.
Slip your show into the satchel.
The worst that happens is we can’t cover it this time. The best that happens is we help carry your story a little further.
And whether you’re staging Shakespeare with a symphony orchestra or a new monologue with one chair and a brave actor…
You’re welcome here.
Love,
Grace
(Still in sensible shoes. Still championing the brave. Still delivering theatre one envelope at a time.)
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