Dorothy tagged me and thereby saved me from the painful necessity of creativity. Draft posts are backing up, I promise you! It’s just that they are only half-complete and the rest of the words simply will not come. In the meantime, signs of a novel by me:
- It’ll be short.
- There will be very little dialogue. Sorry, can’t be bothered to type all that punctuation.
- It will not be subtitled ‘A Novel’.
- The blurb will have some relevance to the contents, because I will write it.
- It will be wry, witty, ironic and detached in tone.
- The heroine will be called Livia, will wear great shoes and will drink champagne other than Veuve Cliquot or Moet.
- It will be contemporary because I’m too lazy to do historical research.
- It will sink without trace.
- It will have literary pretensions.
- It will never happen.
Given that my entire writing career consists of this blog and one bad poem from many years ago, I think the world is safe from any more extended writing.