Saturday, 30 January 2010
Help! I think I need to be Katie Price!
As regular readers already know, the bathroom is where I get my best ideas. And today, even through the fug of the current mucus-based-bug - which let me tell you turns any wet room into an unprecedented danger zone - I had SUCH a double, no.. triple - oh soddit - make that a gazillion-whammy of a creative inspiration that I actually left the room shaking and pruned to the eyeballs, I'd stood under the shower for so long trying to work it all out.
I KNOW it's a great idea. I KNOW it'll be an absolute blast to write. I KNOW it'll hit home on so many levels and touch a whole generation and I KNOW the subject so well that it'll be almost painful (in a good way) to write- but. And this is not a massive but.... BUT I already have tandem WIP teen books I'm writing, I have a list of about 15 other 'tentative titles' of ideas that I know I'll to get round to penning "One Day" and I vacillate from one to the other according to my general mood, the weather and my state of un/dress.
(This, in case any Agent-type person is reading - is because I NEED AN AGENT to discipline me in where/what/which I'm supposed to be doing first for optimum effect.. ok, manic screech over...)
And you know what? This, is what I imagine Katie Price has the ability... nay, the luxury to do. She can have a great idea whilst in her equivalent of MY creative shower (she's certainly not welcome in my shower - let me make that perfectly clear - not whilst there are red-blooded men and impressionable teenagers about the house) and, knowing that she doesn't have to actually sit at a keyboard - much less LEARN how to use one to begin with - and start to draft the bones, research until three in the morning whilst ensuring surrounding areas are kept free of smeared chocolate, hob-nob crumbs, spilled tea and small creatures on the sniff for said scraps. AND keep a bloody house running. Oh, and a turn up regularly at a part-time job. And feed a family - which includes cats. Does she? Well, does she?
I'm guessing not. Although I'm quite happy to be corrected on this point. I'd welcome it to be frank. It'd be nice to have a creative chin-wag with a 'writer' of her calibre.
In my mind, she has these ideas (in whatever room of her house in whichever state of undress she chooses) and promptly farms them out to some other poor (more professional, who can spell, knows where a comma's supposed to go and which law of imperative verbs is the most important) writer who will grab her 'ideas', mould, shape and form them into some kind of semblance of order which won't make *blood pour from a reader's eyeballs and proceed to type them up into a story for her.
To which she will then put her name.
And sell a million in a morning because she's who she is.
At least Martine McCutcheon had the grace to write her 'book' herself. I'm guessing. Judging from the excerpt I read and the hundredweight of tissues I had to use to soak up *the blood.