This time last week I wasn’t sleeping much and in a cold sweat. But now, things feel very different. Agnes of God has started and the audiences are loving it. We’ve had lots of ‘”marvellous”, coupled with some “wows” and “wonderfuls” too, and a showering of critics stars, so the whole team is on a fantastic high! My relief is huge, but the challenge now is to keep the actors energy and concentration up and the freshness of the piece alive.

Agnes of God is, as one audience member put it last night, an “interesting choice for the fringe festival”. When I read it about two years ago I was captivated by it. It’s based on a true story, of a young nun who is accused of murdering her own child. In the play, a court appointed psychiatrist is sent to assess her sanity however her investigation is complicated by the interference of the Mother Superior. The interrogations that follow force all involved to re-examine the meaning of faith and the power of love. This is not for anyone looking for some light entertainment. It’s challenging subject matter, few punches are pulled, and it makes for rich and serious theatre.

One of the great things about the Fringe is that most venues have at least three shows on in one night. However, that means that each performer has roughly 15 minutes to set up the stage and get the audience seated, roughly an hour to perform, and then another 15 minutes to get everything out again. It has been the hardest thing asking our audiences to leave. When the house lights come up, as I’m sweeping rose petals off the stage and dismantling the set, many have been sitting in tears, so moved by the play that they are unable to move from their seats. But we know that waiting in the wings is Jenny Wynter’s Wonderland and she needs to set the stage for her dancing girls and band. It all feels rather surreal. How does one go from a psychotic nun to improv cabaret in 30 minutes?

As we’ve settled into the run, alongside the stars and the reviews, we’ve tweeted, social media networked, chatted on local and national radio. The PR has been fantastic but, despite all of that, getting audiences to come along is surprisingly hard. I can’t help but wonder why. We have a great show, where is everyone? Is Adelaide too small for such a multi-faceted fringe festival, and one that clashes with the (dreaded) Clipsal, the main festival and book week? Is the choice available simply too great?

My previous Fringe experience was in Edinburgh. I was playing a prostitute in David Mamet’s, Edmond. It was another meaty show, and one that I loved doing (apart from the night when my granny came to see it). Then, Google was a typo for goggle, tweets were things that birds did and the streets buzzed with excitement. No one could escape the Fringe mania. Maybe it’s because this time round I’m also juggling a school run and kids homework, but I’ve not really felt the mania yet. Maybe I’m too tired, maybe I should blame Facebook?

In an attempt to reclaim what I thought the real fringe feel should be all about, selling the show on the street, last Saturday I donned my mother superior’s costume and went to Adelaide’s busy Central Market to hand out flyers. As I got out of the car I was terrified. It was an unfamiliar feeling, given that I love being on stage; why was I so nervous?! And I had my mum and two children (they weren’t in habits) to help me, so I wasn’t alone.

However, I soon got over my stage/market fright and my mum’s enthusiasm for handing out flyers became rather more embarrassing than the costume! No one really knew where to look or what to say or do as I approached. A couple called me “sister”, several smiled politely, surprisingly some were rather abrupt, and unsurprisingly a few fled! But I think most were just relieved that I wasn’t coming to preach and was simply waxing lyrical about a fringe show. Mind you, I’d love to think I converted a few, and turned them into enthusiastic theatre goers.