Thursday, 17 December 2009


My girlfriend found herself a little lost in a strange city after a fifteen hour day at work. It was cold and dark, and all the multi-story car parks looked the same. She rang me, half remembering its name, so I found it online, plus a street map, and guided her to it. She drove to the barrier, where the machine told her to go back and put a £1 on the ticket, despite the sign saying it was free after 6pm. Back at the machine, she realised she had no money, and no way to get out. A teenage boy appeared behind her – and now the story could go off in all manner of unwelcome directions. He asked her if she’d lost her ticket, and when she explained the situation to him, he gave her a pound. She'll never see him again. Sort of restores your faith in people.

Faith that was lost when I read that half the population of the UK don’t believe climate change is being caused or exacerbated by human activity. It’s not as if the science is ambiguous any more.

Anyway, back to fiction. I suppose this could be termed the final phase of the first draft: pulling all the threads together – finding an ending really (and not coming up short or going beyond it). It feels an exciting time. And then I’ll print it off, grin lovingly at it, then place it in a drawer for a few weeks, coming back with fresh eyes and several red pens.

Talking of rewriting, here’s an excellent piece, which somehow weaves in a damning nod to our most recent war criminals.

Happy holidays.

1 comment:

SueG said...

a lovely post. happy holidays to you, too!