A writer's holiday
Normally I love holidays, but I've just returned from one exhausted and distraught. Why? Well, not only did I have my credit card stolen from the zipped-up compartment of my zipped-up rucksack which was concealed in the locked-up boot of the locked-up car which was parked in a public car park next to a public harbour - but - BUT - I didn't get a single night's proper sleep. Why? (so many questions, so little time) - Because the voices in my head decided a holiday was the perfect time to hold some fascinating, funny and highly entertaining discussions. The voices were not disconnected noises either. Oh no. They were attached to fully formed, perfectly rounded, exquisite characters who led the most incredible lives and clearly came straight out of the best selling novel that I know is burning bright within me. Oh yes, and, AND they spoke with accents. Naturally, at the time, this filled me with a rather exciting sensation - as soon as I got home I would write their story. And I have - and it's taken me approximately twenty-four hours to realise that they don't have a story and the characters that were up there have, by some foul trick of the keyboard and computer screen, metamorphosised into ordinary, dull, everyday human beings, who wouldn't know an accent if they fell over one in France.
Mind you, apart from the voices, my brian did come up with one rather brilliant idea which has stuck - if someone could invent a computer chip which could be inserted into the brain which recorded the conversations, characters and goings-on in my head and then the chip was flushed out through my ear by means of one of those wax removing pipe things and then the chip was inserted directly into my computer, the brilliance of those conversations, characters and goings-on could be transcribed directly onto my screen and then I'd have my best selling novel all done and dusted. See? Brilliant. I wonder if I should copyright the idea just in case?
Mind you, apart from the voices, my brian did come up with one rather brilliant idea which has stuck - if someone could invent a computer chip which could be inserted into the brain which recorded the conversations, characters and goings-on in my head and then the chip was flushed out through my ear by means of one of those wax removing pipe things and then the chip was inserted directly into my computer, the brilliance of those conversations, characters and goings-on could be transcribed directly onto my screen and then I'd have my best selling novel all done and dusted. See? Brilliant. I wonder if I should copyright the idea just in case?
Labels: Annie
posted by Annie at 10:24 am
4 Comments:
Cheap French wine has such a lot to answer for.
Sorry to hear about your card being stolen.
Oh wow, that is such a GREAT idea, why has nobody ever thought of that before?!! Hang on a sec... didn't Arnie have one of those chips implanted and extracted from his nose in Total Recall?
Sue :-)
Sounds uncomfortable, Annie, but it might just do the trick. For those early morning flashes of inspiration, it's certianly better than groping about on the beside table for a bookmark on which to scrawl illegible notes of inspiration (which, of course, mean absolutely nothing by light of day).
Eva, your "groping about the beside" reminds me of a story by Robert Masello (Robert's Rules of Writing: 101 Unconventional Lessons Every Writer Needs to Know):
His mother, also a writer, keeps the pad and pencil by the bed. She had a dream one night: perfect murder scenario. Locked doors, locked windows, apartment on the 3rd floor, no witnesses. She, struggling to wake up, fighting the tendrils of sleep, scribbled down the culprit. The next morning, she woke up, heart racing, eager to see what she scribbled. Visions of the being on the best-selling list, visits to Oprah filled her head as she flicked on the light and read: "The tree did it."
Post a Comment
<< Home