In between driving a taxi and feeding the children and shouting at Mark I am trying to get my act together to write a book.
At the moment it is at the planning stage. I am thinking about people who could be in a book, and things that might happen to them once they got there. I have made lists of names and thought of the sort of people who might be attached to them. The sort of person attached to a name like ‘Georgiana Fitzroy’, for instance, is not at all the sort of person who might belong to a name like ‘Kylie O’Rourke’.
I have thought about places, in some detail, to the point where I could draw a small sketch map of who would live where, and I can even see their houses in my mind’s eye, and imagine the things that might go on in their lives. I could tell you whose house is tidy and polished, and who is slovenly and embarrassed about it, and who just uses it as a place to chuck their coat before they dash off to do something more interesting.
The thing is, I have got to this point before, and not gone any further because I am rather uncomfortably aware that lists of names and places however appropriate and detailed, and characters, no matter how interesting or cleverly depicted, are just not enough. Books need a story, i.e., that things need to happen: and there is the problem.
The difficulty is that I just don’t like writing about horrible things.
I think there are quite enough ghastly and unhappy things happening in the world as it is without making them up. I hate reading about them, even if I know they get better, and sometimes I just skip over them altogether. If a book has got a story and isn’t about science or history or something sensible, I always check the end first to make sure that it turns out all right. If it doesn’t I have to have a careful think about whether or not I actually want to read it, and quite often the answer is that I don’t. In extreme cases I will tell the librarian about it when I hand it back over the counter, and we will roll our eyes and make disapproving noises, because we both like cheerful things.
If I am going to write a story the problem is that some upsetting or sad or scary things will have to happen in it. Otherwise it will just say: “And They All Lived Happily Ever After,” which is the second nicest sentence in the English language, the first being: “Would Madam like red wine with that?” and even if I put both of them in it would make for a very short, not to say puzzling, book.
I am considering ways in which I can get round this difficulty. I can hardly write a book just full of nice-sounding sentences, which include could things like: “There was glorious sunshine and all the blossom was out,” or: “They had a lovely warm cuddle in front of the fire”, or: “The wine was a rich Burgundy, and wonderfully mellow to taste” – because pleasing as it might be to write and muse about, it would make for a very dull read.
It is a troubling thought to imagine writing about somebody who is feeling grief-stricken, or abandoned, or lonely. I like to write things that remind us what a wonderful place the world is and how very good it is to be alive, like wanting to paint pictures of amazing sunsets or landscapes and not hideous smoky factories. I know perfectly well that horrible things happen, some of them have happened to me from time to time, and of course they will do again: but I don’t think it is entertaining to read about them. If I am to write a story there will have to be some upsetting events in it, or it will be rubbish.
Imagine if Lady Capulet had said to Juliet, “Well, dear, it’s a bit of a surprise of course, but we all have to move with the times, why don’t you ask him over for dinner and we’ll soon get your father to see sense, don’t worry.” It would have been a much lovelier thing to have happened but I think that the script might not have survived the five hundred years since Shakespeare was feeling cross with the world and killed everybody off in a fit of male menopausal grumpiness.
I don’t know what I should do about this. I want to tell a story that is joyful to write, and happy to read, without anxious, miserable, doubtful, unkind bits.
Would you all be bored if I did?
12 Comments
Into every life a little rain must fall, try to make the rain warm if you must
I want a signed first edition.
Sarah you have to do it. We are all eagerly awaiting its arrival x
What about a story about a women who wanted to write a story, but didn’t know what to write about, but suddenly did, and lived happily, in front of a log fire, with a glass of red wine, ever after?
2. What about a story of the wild, wild west, where a fairy arrives on the stage coach and twinkles a spell so that all the cowboy’s guns wouldn’t fire, and they all lived ever after? The fairy could be called Sarah Jane, or Georgiana. There could be a gun totting cowboy called Oliver facing Mark, the evil sheriff at sundown, and of course a lovely, warm hearted saloon girl, called Lucy, who serves them all a nice glass of red wine? Naturally there would be a beautiful sunset, and all the horses clean up after themselves.
There is no charge for this wonderful idea, but I could perhaps be a persuaded to accept a share of the not inconsiderable royalties.
3. What about a story of a poor young woman who had to sell her house to keep her ungrateful children at posh schools, and she had to live in her car. Suddenly the evil sheriff, Mark, from the previous story, turns up, and miraculously turns her car into a taxi. She makes her fortune carting people about all over the beautiful, sunlit Lake District, and her children realise how wonderful she is. They all finish up in their wonderful dressing gowns having a wonderful glass of red wine?
No charge.
4. What about……..oh, forget it!
Sarah, if anyone can make a happy book readable, it is you. Go for it! xx
Not bored at all, if you did. In fact you could just put all your Windermere Diaries together with a “and then” in between and “Book” at the beginning and thee you have it. Ps also love all Dad ideas.
Mm, a tricky one this, I think I’d be a tinsiest bit bored because I like adversity and redemption. We must all descend into the darkness to know the light kind of thing? But it can still be joyful to read, nothing nasty has to happen, just some kind of struggle to give it oace and purpose. Having said all that, I think Mark’s ideas are brill, so you may want to start there. Loving the blog Sarah, keep writing! xx
I think I’ve invented a new word ‘oace’ – it means something similar to ‘pace’ 🙂
I’m sure your book would be fascinating – the way you write your blog is always entertaining so I’m sure you could find a way to do it! You can bounce ideas off your blog followers!!
I agree with Kate. The story of Sarahage 49 3/4 & her characters: a comfortable gripping funny read. See Anne Fine’s books. Funny, domestic nothing awful awful – but nevertheless a darn good read