Me & Esther & I sat down and thrashed out a plot for my novel this morning across over-buttered scotch pancakes nearly black on one side.
Basically, there’s a main character who’s an insecure, narcissistic weirdo type, who falls in love with a doomed social phobic who thinks about death way too much. I don’t know where I get my ideas from sometimes.
It seemed obvious to me why the protagonist would fancy such an ascerbic, anti-everything person because like well, you always want what you aren’t just as long as it’s pitch black and taboo-trashing. But then I really couldn’t think what was in it for her.
Me: What does ‘Esther’ see in the main character?
Esther: [Thinks] You’re not going to like this…it’s a Goldilocks situation. [Sees my worried face]. Oh, I don’t mean penis size…though yours is just right.
Me: Shh! [I point to our open back door, and a little to the left to the neighbour’s permanently open back door. No entendres intended.]. Go on then, tell me more.
Esther: Well, I calculated exactly what type of boyfriend I should have based on all my previous ones, so I could get the one in the middle who was just right.
Me: I feel like a lab rabbit in love with the scientist. I don’t want to know any more. Tell me the criteria.
- Parents still together
- Have a long-hair face even if he didn’t have long hair
- Not a short arse
- Always surrounded by girls so you knew he was fanciable
- A wounded animal
Me: 1-3 I get, but who the heck is 4-6?
Esther: Well I used to go out with boys who were messed up and then I saw you with your arm in a sling…And you used to hang out with that busty blonde. Oh and you would always appear out of nowhere and then disappear just as quickly.
Me: Well, that’s the one time ever I broke anything. She was my ex’s best friend so I was being a creep. And I usually got scared when I went out so ran away if I could.
Esther: Yeah, I realised all that when it was too late.
So, after we’d sorted that out, I went for a walk round the charity shops to ‘clear my head’.
I found myself poised over a copy of Ulysses in Oxfam, flicking through and thinking ‘Come on Jimmy, throw me a frickin’ bone here!’. And the words floated up and over my eyes like I was watching the weather, and even though I read whole pages they were gone as soon as I closed the book and so I put it back where I found it like you do with all scary, dangerous, or boring objects. Ulysses? TL;DR
This is a vast improvement on last weekend, when I obsessively read every scary story I could find on reddit. I trawled the crawlspace between the creepy and Nosleep threads until I gave myself a week long crick in the neck and a pathological fear of going to the toilet. I did, however, learn several important life lessons:
- Never, ever take a solo selfie on a phone with face recognition software
- Don’t scream in a graveyard
- Don’t read texts or tweets after midnight
In other news, the random objects in my bag formed a convincing replica of a medieval jousting lance, made from the applicator nozzle of my haemorrhoid cream (unused) and a coffee stirrer (also unused). Here it is, with the book I keep in there in case anyone asks what I’m reading right now.