2 Comments

Pardon?

I have picked up a project that has been on the backburner for a while, and as a result I am in a position to report that the Alex Brightsmith of six months ago – who it seems was far too busy to type up her notes – was an extraordinarily irritating person to transcribe for.

I wish I could say that her handwriting was her greatest fault. Though she writes a fair enough hand, when the ideas are coming slowly, it does tend to disintegrate somewhat when she’s rushed, excited, distracted, or going over that series of speed bumps outside the Smethwick Temple – which, sadly, covers the circumstances under which almost every word in this notepad was written – but I can mainly handle that. I’m used to it, after all, and even where I struggle (‘insert for dough nub’?!) I can usually work it out from context (insert for doughnuts – how could I have forgotten the doughnut scene?). It’s her tendency to go back to expand on an idea in whatever space is available, rather than starting sensibly on a fresh page, that drives me nuts. I mean, look at this:

DSCF4554

Those last two words? ‘Than them’, I think, and from context the word that’s been written around the corner must be ‘amused’, but let’s just draw a veil over ‘waryer’.

The there’s her notes for future reference. ‘… towards Henlow [check]’. Check what, you aggravating woman? That Henlow is, in fact, on the A6? Its size? The status of its airbase? The name of its chip shop? (Damn. I only mentioned the chip shop facetiously, but now that’s going to annoy me … The Cod Father, possibly?) Even worse, the tendency, just when a scene is flowing well, a scene that I don’t remember writing and that I’m really enjoying, for the narrative to end abruptly with ‘but could she? How? Why would she think she could get away with that?’, followed by a half page of barely legible brain storming, or sometimes just an editorial comment, like this:DSCF4559

At least, I assume that’s an editorial comment, but frankly, your guess is as good as mine.

Advertisements

2 comments on “Pardon?

  1. They look EXACTLY like my notes. Perhaps we like to set ourselves arcane riddles feeling that, if we solve them, then the story must have been worth the effort. Or perhaps we just have crap handwriting.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

wtf, subconscious?

Dreams, drawings and psychoanalytic fun

harm·less drudg·ery

defining the words that define us

Sableyes

Sabbles woz 'ere

unbolt me

the literary asylum

"Where we're going, we don't need roads."

On sports and life and other topics at hand ...

Mum's The Word!

Life through the eyes of a mum, wife, woman

Rose English UK

Read-a-holic

The FarFlung Sofa

The writings and ramblings of Sam Kurd

Physics and Art

The strange case of Dr. August and Mr. von Orth.

Fibro Fog Flash Fiction

Small novels, big tales

The Noisy Songbird

Verbosity in abundance

#FlashMobWrites

#FlashMob Rules.

Waiting for Awen

Awen, Druid for Inspiration, is found everywhere.

countingducks

reflections on a passing life

Literary Fuzz

The book blog of Jordan Reynolds

James Harrington's Blog of Geek and Writing

All Things Writing and Geek, in one neat little blog!

%d bloggers like this: