The Big Idea
Once I’ve zipped through my typing, I leaf through my notebook – you know the one that writers are meant to have on them at all times so they can jot down a startling image, snippets of overheard conversation and those germs of ideas that will eventually blossom into a best selling novel.
There are a lot of lists, all of them with one item not crossed out but transferred to another list. I notice that smoked chilli oil appears on four lists until eventually being struck through with a thick black marker pen although I don’t remember buying any; also lists of recommended books and newspaper articles ( a writer needs an enquiring mind ); domestic jobs: replace washer in downstairs loo, stain removal, contact Council re new recycling box; long term objectives: re-start fitness regime, register on dating sites. I used to tear out the pages with completed lists but then it looked as if I’d done nothing. Achieved nothing.
It’s not all lists. There’s a scrabble score from when Matt and Alison came round last week. Alison won, as usual, but only because Matt opened up a triple word for her and he knew she had a Q and a U because I caught him glancing at her tiles while topping up her glass. Basically, they were working as a team – against me – which really pissed me off. I won’t have them over again. Actually, I might have told them that. I’d drunk too much and for two turns I’d had nothing but vowels.
But, make no mistake, this is a writer’s notebook. I have a lot of brilliant opening lines. Admittedly, getting beyond the opening lines is more difficult. Sometimes I’ll get as far as writing a page or two but I soon lose interest. That’s only because I haven’t found my Big Idea yet.
When I decide to kidnap Stephen obviously I need a list. There are items to be purchased such as gaffer tape and the necessary drugs as well as things to check out like his routine after work and his living arrangements. Having read a lot of crime novels I appreciate how important it is to cover my tracks so my lists are in code. I also know that I must not rush things. By nature a methodical person, I can tend towards impatience when I’m in the grip of my ‘enthusiasms’. I do know I must proceed carefully. But I wasn’t careful enough: the stain was a mistake.
Let me tell you about Stephen. I’ve written him into one of my stories – well, the first bit, it’s not finished yet. I describe him as a ‘ bird of prey, sharp featured with piercing eyes and a shock of black hair’ A little artistic licence as in fact he’s short-sighted and his eyes tend to peer rather than pierce. The dark hair is right, although when I passed his desk the other day I noticed he’s starting to go thin on top. If anyone’s the bird of prey, of course it’s me but there you go, that’s the power of fiction!
I like Stephen but I don’t think he likes me. I’m not saying he dislikes me. Though he might do. I overheard him at the copier, talking about someone to Joyce, saying she was weird and creepy but that could easily apply to my colleagues Jane and Lily. Jane has an eating disorder and is always furtively nibbling at what looks like hamster food which she brings to work in little plastic boxes, each labelled for different times of the day. About half an hour after eating, regular as clockwork, she’ll scamper off to the Ladies and puke it all up. She’s dead pretty but thinks she’s ugly. Lily is into Steam Punk at weekends and although she tones it down for the office her make-up is crazy – green nails, so much purple blusher she looks as if she’s gone ten rounds and koala bear eyes. Plus she’s fat and bi-sexual. Both of them are rich pickings for characterisation: in fact I plan to give Jane a series of monologues which will reveal that her eating disorder stems from her rape, by a close family member when she was twelve, while Lily will be my main protagonist in a play ( working title Our Times, Your Times ) in which she will go into a time warp, become a zombie and save the world from global warming.
So in all probability it wasn’t me Stephen was talking about. After all, I present as very normal. I often laugh to myself when I think of how they will react when my genius is discovered and I am revealed as the writer of award winning fiction.
Using the term kidnap earlier was probably not the best choice. As a wordsmith, I should be more precise. My aim is to entice him back to my place and then ...well, I haven’t got it figured out to the last detail yet but with all the best stories you never know exactly how they will end. The gaffer tape and drugs were a device to heighten dramatic tension but you have to admit that did work!
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