By Grace Hatchell
Now then, when a mum emails me saying she’s been promoted to Head of Selling My Boy, what exactly am I supposed to do? Tell her no? I’m Yorkshire, not heartless.
When Susan Grant’s email landed in my satchel, I couldn’t help but grin.
“I have been assigned the task of selling my boy,” she wrote.
Then came the line that completely won me over.
“I think his work is brilliant but then I am his Mum and like most mums your child could present you with stale fish and you might think it was an act of brilliance.”
Well Susan, you’ve got a point.
Mums are wonderfully biased. It’s practically in the job description.
But here’s the thing. As I kept reading, I realised Susan might not be the only one convinced George Grant is someone worth watching.
Last year, George arrived at the Edinburgh Fringe with his debut play, Operation Blank. Not only did it collect five-star reviews, it also picked up award nominations, including the Bright Spark Prize for Best Newcomer. That’s quite the entrance for someone with no formal dramatic training.
This summer, instead of playing it safe, George is doing something I always admire in artists.
He’s taking a risk.
Yes, Operation Blank returns, bringing audiences back into its brilliantly absurd world of looming international crisis, hopeless government bureaucracy and the uniquely soul-destroying experience of trying to achieve anything over Microsoft Teams. It sounds like a comedy that’s uncomfortably close to real life… which usually makes for the best kind.
But alongside that familiar success comes something completely different.
In the Cold Light marks a turn towards drama, following a journalist drawn into an investigation after discovering the gravestones of two friends. What begins as an attempt to bury the past slowly becomes an exploration of grief, silence and the stories we choose not to tell. Described as sharp, funny and quietly devastating, the production promises innovative staging, an accomplished cast including West End performer Illona Linthwaite, and a mystery that leaves audiences desperate to discover what’s inside one particular letter.
Now that’s brave.
It would have been easy to return with another comedy, collect the laughs and build on last year’s success. Instead, George appears determined to show audiences that he has more than one story to tell and more than one way of telling it.
That’s exactly what Edinburgh Fringe should be about.
It’s where artists experiment.
It’s where writers surprise themselves.
And sometimes it’s where someone everyone remembers for making them laugh one year returns to leave them quietly reflecting the next.
As for Susan…
I sincerely hope she’s in the audience every night.
Because behind every Fringe performer is usually someone who’s been quietly cheering them on long before the reviews arrived. Someone who read the early drafts, listened to every idea, celebrated every success and probably made more cups of tea than they care to remember.
Susan just happens to be wonderfully honest about it.
She knows she’s biased.
She knows mums always think their children are brilliant.
But after reading about George’s journey, I’m beginning to think she might just have a point.
George, you’ve certainly got one of the best publicity managers at this year’s Fringe.
And Susan… congratulations on your promotion to Head of Selling My Boy.
I’d say business is going rather well.
In the Cold Light plays at theSpace @ Surgeons Hall from 7–29 August 2026, excluding 16 and 23 August, at 5:35pm. The running time is 55 minutes.
Tickets are £15, with concessions at £9. The show is suitable for ages 16+.
Operation Blank also plays at theSpace @ Surgeons Hall during the Fringe, with performances across 7–15 August, 17–22 August and 24–29 August 2026.
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