By Grace Hatchell, The Hatchell with the Satchel
The Leodis Prize is a new writing award launched in 2025 to champion unrepresented playwrights, with the 2026 shortlist featuring ten original plays. The winner will receive a fully funded Edinburgh Fringe production, industry representation, publication, and a £2,000 prize.
There’s a bit of a buzz in my satchel this week—and not the usual crumpled flyers or the odd stray sweet from an interval dash. No, this one’s got a bit of weight to it. The kind that makes me slow the bike, have a rummage, and think… “Ooo, this could be something.”
The shortlist for the very first Leodis Prize has landed, and I’ll tell you now—it’s a proper celebration of new writing. Ten playwrights, all previously unrepresented, now suddenly standing on the edge of something rather big.
I’ve always had a soft spot for the underdog—the ones scribbling away in notebooks, the ones performing to half-full rooms, the ones who don’t quite fit the mould just yet. And this prize? It’s practically built for them. No prior productions, no industry backing—just a good story and the courage to send it in.
Nearly 350 scripts were entered (I’d have needed a second satchel for that lot), and after a serious amount of reading, re-reading, and probably a fair few “just one more before bed” moments, ten plays have made it through.
And what’s waiting for the winner? Oh, just a fully funded run at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 2026, representation, publication, and a tidy £2,000 to keep the creative wheels turning. Not a bad delivery to receive, if you ask me.
Now then—let’s have a little peek at what’s inside…
One Hundred Fires by Damien Hasson follows a comedian who can’t even say his own name on stage—hardly ideal—and ends up tumbling into something far deeper about identity and voice. Then there’s Lad Lad Lad by Tom Draper, which starts as a pub reunion and quickly turns into something far more tense, with secrets bubbling up and a missing friend hanging in the air like a bad pint.
Needs Network Narrative by Anna Wright feels like one of those plays that quietly rearranges your brain—jumping between medieval quests and modern suburbia, touching on loneliness and radicalisation in ways that don’t sit still. And Strings by Nia Braidford takes us into the world of elite sport, where talent meets pressure and the cracks begin to show.
Before I Was A Moth by Mary Condon O’Connor brings a softer touch—grief, care, and family relationships handled with warmth and wit—while Joygernaut by Andy Craven Griffiths dives into the strange aftermath of lockdown through an online therapy group (and if you lived through those days, you’ll know exactly the kind of characters that might pop up there).
Sanctuary by Jacob Sparrow shifts through time, exploring memory and belonging in a way that feels both personal and expansive. Then there’s Sawdust by Joseph Walsh, which heads backstage at a TV talk show to reveal the less glamorous side of entertainment—where compromise tends to creep in.
Ed Cooke’s Sicko blends immersive theatre with domestic storytelling (always a slightly eerie combination, if you ask me), and rounding things off is The Definition by Nay Oliver Murphy—a sharp, intimate two-hander exploring vulnerability, connection, and all the messy bits in between.
What I love about this shortlist is that it doesn’t feel safe. It feels curious. A bit unpredictable. Full of something to say.
Behind the scenes, a panel of industry names have had the tricky job of narrowing things down—and I don’t envy them one bit. You get the sense that even making this shortlist is a bit of a moment.
And now, all eyes turn to April, when one of these ten will take the next step onto the Edinburgh Fringe stage—where anything can happen, and quite often does.
I’ll be keeping a very close eye on this one. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, cycling between theatres with ink-stained fingers and a head full of stories—
today’s unknown name has a funny habit of becoming tomorrow’s must-see show.
And I do love being able to say… I had their name tucked safely in my satchel first
About the Author
Hi, well done to the shortlisted writers, and I hope it is life-changing for them. One thing: I only found out who was on the shortlist by going online – hardly difficult I know – but I do think the organisers could have sent out an email to everyone who enterted a play with the outcome. Doubtless they will say no one wants to receive a rejection email, or that they don’t have the resources – well, just to email out 350 people is a zero cost initiative, and it could have just said something like ‘Dear Writer…thank you for submitting your piece to the Leodis Prize. The shortlist is now online so please head over to see if you have been successful. If not, please don’t be disheaterned…etc etc.’ Would have made me – and perhaps the other 340 entrants – feel less like just a number. I’m not a snowflake, never have been, and this isn’t just me being disgrunted. But I am an individual, I put in the effort of writing and sending a play out, and just occasionally it would be nice to have that effort reciprocated in a small way.