Tony: Three tweets (from Rushton's memories)

1.     Pamela

Warm blue eyes, abundant brown hair – she held my hand, her face gentle and enquiring.  The birds were calling out along the sunlit road.

2.    A city encounter

A bald man, wearing misted glasses and wiping his sweaty pate, asked me the way to the bank.  He was heavily in debt, he said.

3.    A bridegroom’s reflections

The best man’s speech fell flat.  Sipping my wine, I trembled – what with pre-honeymoon nerves, and an excruciating pair of hired trousers.

Ros - Title

Caroline leant over the author's shoulder and read the words 'Holly and Marie' on the screen.  She withdrew the cigarette from her lips and proceeded to stub it out very slowly and deliberately until it was limp and squashed in the ash tray. A faint wisp of smoke hung in the air.

'Well, well', she drawled, that's the way its going is it?'  'Holly and Marie'. Holly she called out.  'Come and look at this.'

Holly left her seat in front of the television and obediently went and stood by her mother.  ' So you and the delightful Marie are going to have a book written about you.  What do you think about then?.'  asked Caroline

'I shouldn't think anyone would be interested in reading about me.  But they might want to read about Marie,' Holly replied cautiously.

'And what about me.  Isn't it my story? I'm the one who suffered all these years in silence only to have you and the meddling Marie dig about in the detritus of my life and now you want the world to know what happened to me.   If there must be a book,what about it being called "Caroline"?'

'It  could be "Caroline and Holly" or "Mother and Daughter". That would be fair.  But I don't think you can have it all your own way this time, Mum,"   Holly replied firmly.

'Both bloody boring names if you ask me.  Just my luck to have an author lacking imagination.  Ah Marie, come and join us.  Why don't we make ourselves comfortable .'   Marie and Holly moved to the sofa and both sat with their legs curled under them.  Caroline perched on the arm of another chair, her elegant legs crossed.  At a glance from Caroline Holly turned off the television.

'What do you think, Marie', started Holly hardly able to conceal a  growing excitement.'  someone is writing a story about us'

'Us?'  queried Marie.

'You, me and.. Mum of course.  The story about how we found my father.

'Pricelesss isn't it,' retorted Caroline.  ' An interfering Au Pair, paid to look after my daugheter, is about to star in my story.  The next best thing would be if Holly's father featured in the title'.

'Well as a matter of fact I had heard that the title "The Man Who Would Be Her Father,"  had been suggested ,' volunteered Holly hesitantly. 

'Ghastly parody,' groaned Caroline reaching for her box of cigarettes.

'What does "parody" mean?' asked Marie.

'Oh, Never mind. She can't pick that one anyway. For some reason you seem to be party to all of this, Holly.  Are there any other suggestions I should know about?

'Past Lies and Present Lives.'

'What was that?'

'Past Lies..,' Holly began to repeat but Caroline interrupted her.

' That's nice,' Caroline puffed thoughtfully on her now lighted  cigarette."  They fell silent each, each remembering the events of the past year.  How to convey in a few words the fear, excitement, sadness and joy which each had experienced in their different ways.  The author had a  hard task to perform.

At last Holly said 'What do you think Marie?'

'Well, I see your Mum's point. I don't think the story is about me but it's definitely about you and for once you should get some credit.  I would favour a title that had your name in it, Holly  but don't ask me to think of one my  English isn't good enough.'

'That's not like you Marie, you usually have an answer for everything.'  remarked Caroline. The scene   fades, the protagonists continue to argue.  Is the author any  further advanced on a search for a title?  Not really but it has confirmed a growing realisation that Caroline is by far the most interesting of the three characters!

Sandra: The Rise and Demise of May Baker

Fred picked up the proof copy of the book and passed it to May who shook her head angrily.
"The nerve of the woman!  How dare she even think of using my name in the title. Just because she fashioned me out of her imagination, that does not give her the right to use my name just as she pleases."
"At least you get a mention Gran. That is more than any of us do." Sarah replied.
Mr Newson looked at Fred questioningly, "I thought you told me the title was going to be 'Apple of Her Eye'.
"I think it was -till that tutor of hers suggested otherwise.  She is very easily led you know especially by intelligent,attractive men."
May huffed. "Pity he didn't leave well alone if you ask me. Gave her some idea she could write and now look at her!  The house looks a tip and she spends all day hammering away at that laptop - and to what purpose. Is anyone actually going to read it?"
Fred shook his head, " Don't be too hard on her May.  She looks happier, don't you think?"
Mr Newson agreed "Yes there's something quite diffferent about her demeanour. It's almost like she has found a purpose again."
"Got ideas above her station if you ask me. She should remember there would be no book if it was not for us."
"What would you call the book Gran" Sarah asked.
"Well, something that would include everyone and not single anyone out."  
"How about you Mr Newson".
"Oh! I do not know Sarah. I believe the title should reflect the meaning behind the book. Conscience plays a big part in the story, and what pushes people to behave in a certain way and whether they actually have a choice in the matter."
"Got it then. 'Choices, Conscience and Consequences'." Sarah exclaimed.
"Too much of a tongue twister Sarah what about 'Behind the Curtains?' Fred asked.
"After all that is where we all are. That is where the story is played out."
"Yes, I like that" May replied. "Behind the Curtains." .

Sam: Title

There was a knock at the door and Ellie got up to answer it.

‘Oh Seb you’re finally here, about time!’ She said ‘Everyone else has been here for ages!’

‘Well nice to see you too.  Yes I’m fine thank you very much for asking, how are you?’ he said sarcastically.  ‘Anyway what’s this all about?’ he asked as he walked into the main living room where Damo and Elizabeth were seated.  He waved and made a face at Ellie behind her back.  The others stayed poker-faced.

‘It’s actually a very important meeting and one that needs all of our input.’  Ellie explained.

‘Is it about the photographs we received, or the riddles on the back of them?  Have you solved the mystery?’  Damo asked excitedly.

‘No, no it’s nothing like that, it’s much bigger than that actually in a way.’ Said Ellie.

‘Well go on, don’t keep us in suspense.’ Elizabeth said with a worried expression on her face.

‘Well what it is, is, well, we’ve all been given a task’

‘Oh not something else to solve.’ Interrupted Seb irritably.

‘No, if you’ll let me finish, well the thing is, we have been given the task of deciding the title for this book that we’re all in.’ Ellie finished, taking in the shocked looks of the other three. ‘and I personally, think’ she continued, taking advantage of their surprise ‘that, maybe we should call it Ellie.’

‘What do you mean decide the title of the book we’re in, don’t be ridiculous.’ Said a startled Damo.

‘Damo,’ Elizabeth warned ‘if that’s what we’ve got to do then we’ve got to admit to ourselves that we are just characters in a book.  I know it’s hard, but we all know it deep down.’

Elizabeth took Damo’s hand who still looked visibly stunned.

‘Hang on everybody.  Have you taken in what Ellie just said?  Ellie wants to name it after herself, because she thinks she’s the most important one here, as usual!’ shouted Seb.

‘Oh get over yourself, if you’re that worried we can name it after the four of us.’ Retorted Ellie.

‘Well doesn’t that seem a bit obvious?’ said Damo, quickly recovering from his initial shock, ‘I mean it is a bit of a mystery isn’t it, couldn’t it be something that hints a bit more at the mysteries that will reveal themselves?  Maybe something like….oh I don’t know, ooh how about The Mysteriddle?’

Damo looked at the others who were all trying to avoid his eye contact for some reason.

‘I don’t know I think something that hints at our friendships and the journeys that we’ll be taking together, something more whimsical’ Elizabeth sighed.  ‘Yes!  Like the Friends That Time Forgot, or, or The Beauty of our Mysteries.’

Seb made a face, while Ellie looked tactfully out of the window.

‘Well as much as it pains me to say it, I think I have to agree with Ellie.’ Seb said ‘The fairest way of doing this is to name all of us.’

‘Okay, that seems fair.’ Agreed Ellie.

‘Agreed.’ said a slightly sulky Elizabeth.

‘Well that’s fine by me I suppose.’ Said Damo, ‘the only thing is, what order shall we put the names in?’

Everyone slumped and loud sighs were heard around the living room.

Breaking the 4th Wall: Sue

‘I hear that it might be called Charlotte,’ said Martin, looking slightly aggrieved. ‘Seems a bit unfair to the rest of us, especially me, as I thought were in this together.’

 ‘Well, I am the focal point, and besides, Charlotte and Martin, plus various pivotal supporting characters, does not make a good title.’

‘I thought it was more about not fitting in and how we try to escape the expectation’s of others', said Lila. ‘Given our different experiences, it could be called Square pegs.’

‘Good idea, Round holes might also work,’ said Martin. Then spotting a theme, ‘how about, ‘Life is what we make it; or given the circus setting, All the world’s a stage?’

‘Charlotte sounds simpler. I’d love to have a book named after me, but I agree it is about all of us’, said Charlotte. ‘So maybe Second lives, or Alternative choices?’

There was silence as each pondered. They were aware that the narrative was based upon their determination to break free and the difficulties they encountered when making their new choices. However, in the end, they could all be accused of somehow returning back to square one by the end of the novel.

The author watched over them, wishing she could find a title that would embrace all of her characters, reflect key themes and appeal to readers.  Perhaps Red Queen Syndrome* would be most apt, given the amount of running they had all done to more or less end up in the same place. 

Several days later, a new rumour was heard. The latest suggestion is Cirque.

‘What does than mean?’ Asked Lila. ‘The only Cirque I’ve heard of is “Cirque de Soleil”, which is way out of our league, we are only a small family circus.'

‘I think it means circle or circus’, said Charlotte.

‘It’s a geography term’, said Martin, wondering whether his teaching background was being given a larger role. ‘A cirque is a circular valley, formed by glacial erosion and surrounded by steep walls or cliffs. It is amphitheatre-like, with one way in or out.  Freezes and thaws can cause glacier movement, increasing the size of the circle or adding to erosion. However, if cirques do erode, they tend to form additional high ridges and pyramidal peaks.’

‘I can see some links, but few, if any readers are ever going to get that reference’, said Charlotte.

‘So what?’ Said Lila,  ‘It’s a snappy title, fits on the spine, sounds like it could be about a circus, or a circle, or pretty much anything anyone wants to make of it.’ 

 Red Queen Syndrome *
In “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, by Lewis Carroll (1865), Alice and the Red Queen were running very fast hand in hand, and still the queen kept crying “Faster!” The most curious part of the thing was that the trees and the other things round them never changed their places at all: however fast they went, they never seemed to pass anything. When they finally stopped, Alice protested:

“Well, in our country,” said Alice, still panting a little, “you’d generally get to somewhere else–if you ran very fast for a long time, as we’ve been doing.”

“A slow sort of country!” said the Queen. “Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!”

Hilary - Title

Carrie sat cross legged in the lumpy armchair that had been her father’s favourite. Ellen was sitting on the sofa looking very uncomfortable as Carrie’s two sisters stubbed out their cigarettes and made their way from the garden, through the French doors to take their places in the sitting room.

“ Look, we’re not getting anywhere are we?”  Carrie spoke to the assembled group. “This issue is not going to go away you know. It has to be sorted before Saturday when she sends it off to the publisher! We knew when she started this that we would be asked to contribute in some way. That’s what she does – gets all wound up with the plot line, thinks of a title that sucks and then blames it on us lot. If we don’t come up with something soon, that’s it. We’re finished. In the bin we go. Our story will never see the light of day so we have to get this right.”

Ellen stood up and asked if anyone fancied a drink. “The sun’s over the yardarm so we can go alcoholic – that’s if you want to of course. You might want to stick to tea or fruit juice – especially in your condition.” She grinned sarcastically at Carrie who looked away in distaste.

“Well you seem to have taken on the role of the heroine here – or should that be 'heroin'…” Sadie  put her forefinger in the crick of her arm and mimed a needle being inserted.

“Sadie, don’t.” Anna whispered and she glanced at Carrie apologetically. Her role in the family was peacemaker. She had not asked for it, but been given it by that damned author.  In her other life, she was just as charismatic and adventurous as her two sisters, but it had not been allowed to materialise in this novel.

“ I think we should stick with ‘Human Glue’ After all try as we might, we can never get away from each other psychologically can we? It’s like our minds are stuck together. It sucks, but lots of good books have crappy titles – Look at ..............Brick Lane, I wouldn’t have, would you? ” Sadie selected the book from the shelf and waved it at them. Ellen had by now returned with the glasses and a bottle of Pinot Grigio.

“ It shrieks gas chambers and all that awful stuff from the war.” Ellen said quietly as she set down the bottle. “ I think it would put people off, or worse still, only Nazis and facists would buy it.”

“What Brick Lane?” Sadie smirked.

“ Oh stop being stupid, you know what Mum meant.” Anna sighed patiently. “ How about we look at what actually happens to all of us, that should give us plenty of ideas”.

“ Metamorphosis?” Carrie offered.

“ It’s been done before”. The three of them all retorted in unison.

“We need to think not just of us as characters, but the plot lines”. Sadie began coming up with some ideas and firing them off like little bullets.  ‘Framed’, or how about ‘what’s my line? – of cocaine doing up your nose!’, or we could have ‘The man I met in Paris’…………”

“ This isn’t all about me”. Carrie said quietly. “ You have been on the journey too, all of you. Please let’s try to find something that we all agree on.”

Ellen sat sipping her wine thoughtfully. “ Carrie’s right – we are all in this together. I have thought of something but I’m not sure you are ready to hear it yet”

“ Mum, we’ll never hear it if we never get published will we?  – go for it”, said Carrie.

Ellen smiled.  “Glow in the Dark Pencils”.

The four women looked at each other and laughed until they cried. 

Peter--Search for a Title

A ONE-ACT  PLAY

An ancient, flint-stone Tudor house in King Street, Norwich.  An attic-like room at the top with beams.  A large table is in the centre with chairs and paper and pencil in each place.

A white board stands at one end.  Two steep staircases opposite each other lead into the room.

The chimes of midnight are ringing as a ghostly young woman with long hair tied in a bow appears in the room. She is young but a touch schoolmarm'ish and dressed in clothes befitting a person of the eighteenth century. She drifts across the room and, taking a taper, on tiptoe lights the candelabra set over the table and then goes over to the whiteboard and writes in large letters the words:  A  TITLE.  She then takes a seat at the head of the conference table and studies a list.

(Steps  are  heard  coming  up the stairs)  A short, determined-looking man in an oilman’s overalls and a vermilion hard hat enters the room.

BOB :  (Comes in panting) Good evening.  My, those steps are steep.  Have I come to the right place?  I was asked to come here on some kind of errand to do with a title, I think.

ELEANOR:  Yes. That’s right. Bob Newington isn’t it, Radex Oil from Howlett’s Island ?

BOB: (Look of surprise) Yeah that’s right. How did you.....?

ELEANOR:  Simple. Your hat, Mr Newington.  Please take a seat while we wait for the others.

BOB:  What is this old place anyway.?  It’s kind’a neat.

ELEANOR: It used to be my home before my tragic accident.... (she sighs)... But that’s a sad story and a long time ago. Today it’s called Wensum Lodge and acts as  an education and craft centre.  (Sounds of more  steps and jumping. a boy emerges, staring anxiously down the staircase)

NED:  Come on Nochoska. You can make it.  (A heavy, pounding sound and a polar bear  appears,  head  swaying  from  side  to  side,  staring warily about the room)

BOB:  (Stands  up  indignantly)  It’s that kid – the one who’s giving me all the trouble on the island and that darn bear....I’m not staying here. (Makes for the staircase but his way is barred)

ELEANOR: (Sternly) Sit down, Mr Newington. You have nothing to fear. (She turns to the new arrivals)  You’re Ned Blake, I believe, and this is your companion Nochoska.

NED:  (Looking annoyed)  Yes.  And that’s the head of the oil-drilling outfit who's destroying Howlett’s Island. (Pointing angrily at Newington) I’d never have agreed to come, if I had known HE was going to be here too.  This isn’t fair. 

BOB:  Just my feelings about you, son!

ELEANOR:  Stop it, you two! And, Ned, please do something about that bear and then sit down. (She ticks her list).

NED:  Well, I’m not sitting next to him. (Sulkily, he sits at the far end and Nochoska squats  down  in a nearby corner, sniffing copiously)

(An insistent drumbeat can now be heard accompanied by an eerie wailing. It gets  louder and  fills the shadowy, candlelit room.  A shaman in seal furs appears at the top of the stairs)

NED:  Niquishin, Niquishin, you’re here too! (Ned stands and smiles, arms welcoming)

(The  shaman smiles back but continues to dance around the table.  His drum is thin and circular and he strikes  either side of it with a small hammer -like stick. With a final flurry of beats he stops in front of the whiteboard. From within his fur he takes a seal’s tooth and begins  to  draw  figures. The others  watch, transfixed) 

 

BOB:  That’s Risik. He’s drawn Risik!

NED: And that’s Maisie!

ELEANOR:  Watch!

(The figures come to life. The ugly, loathsome Risik, with tusks that grow from his nostrils.  The  creature peers beyond  the whiteboard and steps down to join those in the room.  A halter is put round Maisie’s neck.  Risik gives it a vicious tug and the pale  shadow of a girl is forced to follow)

RISIK:  Good evening everyone.  What a strange gathering.  Ah... Mr Newington. How are you, sir?   I’d better sit next to you, if you don’t mind, I don’t think the boy looks very friendly..  Come on, Maisie.

NED:  Let her go.  Let her go you brute. (Ned struggles to get round to the other side of the table  but Eleanor fixes him with her gaze and he finds it impossible to move.)

RISIK  (Giving a sneering smile)  Calm down, Ned.  You’re getting yourself over-excited..... Why, Papa isn’t here.  Normally he doesn’t miss important occasions like this.

ELEANOR:  He’s coming now.

( Niquishin finishes drawing the  picture of Griselm, King of the Walrus, who slides from the  whiteboard onto the floor and joins his halfling son.)

GRISELM:  What a grand gathering.  Good evening, Mr Newington. Ah, Risik. You’ve brought the child I see.

RISIK:  Just a precaution, father.

NIQUISHIN:  My task is finished.. (The shaman picks up his drum and sits next to Ned)

ELEANOR:  Now that we are all here, I think we can begin.  My name is Eleanor and I have been asked to organise this meeting to find a title for the book of which you are all a part. Your creator thought it was only democratic to ask your opinions.

BOB:  Part of a story!  What nonsense is this.  I’ve got a responsible job to do on Howlett’s Island. I can’t waste any more time here..

G RISELM: (Snorting and grunting)

RISIK:  My father agrees with Mr Newington. He was only persuaded to come because he thought something important was going to happen. Instead, this is a trumped-up meeting. Besides it’s too warm here for us. We want to leave.. And you agree too, don’t you Maisie? (They stand up)

ELEANOR:  SIT DOWN ALL OF YOU!  Whether you like it or not you are all characters in a story that has been created in this room and your creator is having trouble finding a title.

THE ASSEMBLED CAST:  Characters!  Us?  Characters!  This is absurd!. 

ELEANOR: Sit down!  You’re not leaving here until we’ve got a title.  Understand?

NED:  Who is this storyteller anyway and why isn’t he here?

BOB: Snuckered down comfortably in bed somewhere, I bet.

ELEANOR:  His name’s Peter and he promised to come.

(Footsteps  on  the  staircase)  Ah, that might be him now.

PETER EMERGES TO HISSES AND CATCALLS.

PETER:  Well, that’s a nice welcome. I thought I was doing you all a favour, arranging a break from that godforsaken island for a night.  Besides, it’s not me that started all this. The person you should blame is Gary Dexter, the lecturer here. He’s the one that triggered it all off with those provocative writing exercises and he suggested you might all come up with a decent title. Not much hope of that, the way things are going.

ELEANOR:  Just ignore them, Peter. They’re an ungrateful lot. You’d better sit next to me.  Nochoska is beginning to look menacing and you can never be sure what treachery Griselm will get up to. I just don’t trust him at all.  Now listen, all of you. You can go as soon as we have a title for the story – not before. There’s paper and pencil on the table. Before you begin, I’m going to give you a few tips. Titles should be descriptive of the story, brief, enticing and have a rhythmical ring. Are you listening, Griselm? (The walrus shakes his great head and splutters all over the table)  They can have a magical realism too, Nishquin.  I’m going to give you ten minutes and if Mr Bennett here likes one of your titles, Nishquin and I will see you get safely back to your Arctic home. You can begin now.  (They settle over their sheets. Risik helps Griselm.  You could hear a pin drop)

PETER: (Whispering) What about the bear, Eleanor?  He plays a leading role. He should have a choice, surely?

ELEANOR:  I’ve thought of that. Nishquin is going to help when he’s finished.

(Nishquin finishes writing quickly, picks up his drum and goes over to the corner where Nokoscha  is squatting. He stands in front of the bear, tapping his drum hypnotically and singing.  The bear’s eyes begin to look glazed.  He rolls over onto his side. In his sleep he begins to make murmuring sounds.)

PETER:  What is Niquishin doing, Eleanor?

ELEANOR: I understand he is communicating with the spirit of the bear.  Look, he has stopped. Have you got an answer Nishquin?

SHAMAN:  Yes, Eleanor. I will write it down  on the paper for him.

ELEANOR: (She looks at her sand timer)  STOP, everyone! Now, who would like to read theirs out first.  (Complete silence).  Come on, someone.  You were all so noisy earlier. Bob?

BOB:  All right, I’ll have a go.  Mind you, I don’t think it’s very good.  How about The Oil Crusader, which seems to sum up what Radex Oil are trying to do to provide oil for the world.

NED: (Incensed) Crusader?  Despoiler, you mean. That’s what you’re doing on Howlett’s Island.

ELEANOR:  Well, what is your suggestion, Ned?

NED:  The Boy and the Bear versus  Big Oil.

BOB:  That’s a travesty of the truth.

ELEANOR: Gentlemen, I promise you that we will be here all night if we argue about each title.  I’m going straight round the table now.  Nishquin?

SHAMAN:  The  Struggle for the land of the Black Canoe.

GRISELM:   War of the Walrus.

RISIK:   Mystery on the Enchanted Isle.

SHAMAN:  Nochoska has written  the Island of Vanishing Ice.

MAISIE:  The Battle for Howlett’s  Island.

ELEANOR:  Good.  At last.  What do you think, Peter?

PETER:  Yes, I think we have some possibilities here. This one in  particular.  Thank you all.

BOB:  Now that’s done, can we go?

ELEANOR:  But one at a time.  I don’t want any fights.  You first, Bob.

(Bob gets up and makes his way to the stairs. He stops to point a warning finger at Ned)

BOB:  You keep out of my hair, kid ,or there’ll be big trouble.

NED:  I’m not afraid of you or your powerful friends in Washington.

(Nochoska moves menacingly towards Bob)

ELEANOR:  You’d  better go, Mr Newington.  Nishquin, can you prepare the whiteboard?

(The shaman draws a typical Arctic scene of a icy waste and a big sky)

ELEANOR:  Griselm and Risik, your way is ready.

(To the sound of the shaman’s drum the two approach the whiteboard. Grunting, Griselm climbs into the scene and begins  to make his way across the ice.  Risik follows, pulling Maisie after him.  She resists and, turning, appeals desperately to those still at the table.)

MAISIE:  Please don’t let them take me away.  Please, please….

(Eleanor and Peter sit,  concerned but transfixed.  Risik lifts Maisie into the frame of the whiteboard  and, with the help of Griselm, drags her across the ice.  A furious Ned races over but finds  it impossible to enter.  Halfway across the ice, Risik stops, turns, gives Ned a taunting smile  and wave, and continues after his father, with Maisie trailing  behind. Ned bangs his fists in frustration on the whiteboard, then turns to  Peter.)

NED:  If this is just a bloody story, can’t you do something to save the girl?  Don’t just sit there. Think of something!  Invent something!  Quick, before it’s too late.

PETER:  I know how you feel, Ned.  I feel as angry as you do.

NED:  Well, do something.  Do something!

PETER:  I can’t. 

NED:  Why not?

PETER:  I don’t know any more than you do what’s going to happen.

NED:  You know what?  You’re hopeless.  All you care about is that bloody title.  Much good may it do you. ( Ned picks up the one Peter has chosen, screws it up and throws it at him.) Come on, Nochoska. These people are not worth the time of day.  We’ll get back to the island and show them.

(The door slams and boy and bear descend noisily down  the stairs.)

SHAMAN:  I will go with them to see that they come to no harm. (He follows them, banging his drum and singing in a low dirge-like voice.)

PETER:  I’d  better go too, Eleanor. I’m  sorry about this.  Thank you for organizing the meeting anyway.   (He  gets  up  and  makes  his way  towards  the  door)

  

ELEANOR:  It’s  not your fault.  It was bound to be a difficult meeting.  (Crestfallen, Peter disappears down the stairs. Eleanor gets up and gathers the pencils and papers.  She notices the screwed-up title on the floor.)  Oh, he’s forgotten  to take the title, after all that.  Peter, Peter, you’ve forgotten to take the title name that you chose. (She opens the door at the top of the stairs,  but he has gone)  Nothing for it – I’ll have to leave it somewhere for one of the Thursday  novelists to find when they come.  (She snuffs out the candles and in the moonlight vanishes through a partition at the far end of the room.)

Julie - Title Discussion

‘What’s wrong with naming the book after me?’ Cassie demanded, turning to give her brother, who was sitting next to her on the settee, the full force of her icy stare.  ‘I am the heroine.’

Greg laughed.  ‘Heroine?  Now it really does sound like a Jane Austen novel.’

Helen, who was sitting on a reclining chair to their left, reached over and selected a chocolate from the box on the coffee table.  ‘As a matter of fact,’ she began, ‘Most of Jane Austen’s novels weren’t named after the heroine, they were thematic, like “Pride and Prejudice” or “Sense and Sensibility”.’  She paused to pop the orange crème into her mouth and through it continued thickly, ‘And anyway, I wish you two would stop arguing about it.’

‘Sorry Mum,’ they said in unison.

‘Well, what do you think it should be called then?’ Cassie asked.

Helen frowned, sucking vigorously on the orange crème.  Before she had a chance to answer, Gran leaned forward in her chair opposite Cassie and Greg and piped up, ‘Is someone writing a book about you, Cassandra?’

Greg coughed extravagantly.

‘Yes, Gran,’ Cassie said, glaring at Greg.  ‘We’re all in it.’

‘Well, some more than others,’ Helen muttered, glancing up at the clock on the wall.  ‘Perhaps it should be called “The Absent Father”.’

‘Or what about “Who’s the Daddy”?’ Greg joked.

Cassie punched him on the arm.  ‘That isn’t funny.  I’m going to suffer a lot of angst over that one.’

There was a pause.  Helen, who was gazing thoughtfully into space, finally broke the silence.  ‘What about “Separate Ways”?’

Cassie and Greg exchanged glances.

‘Or “A Fool Such as I”,’ Helen continued.  She looked round the room.  ‘“Heartbreak Hotel”?’

‘Oh, I get it,’ Greg said.  ‘Elvis songs.  Well, if we’re doing songs what about “Can I Play with Madness”?  Quite appropriate,’ he continued in an undertone to Cassie, ‘Bearing in mind the circumstances.’  He indicated Helen with a discrete jerk of his head.

‘Greg!’ Cassie hissed indignantly.  ‘This is 1977.  Iron Maiden haven’t even written that one yet and anyway,’ she continued quietly, ‘That isn’t fair on Mum.  She will get over her psychiatric troubles.’

‘Yeah, point taken.  Sorry Sis.’

Helen, who was once again studying the chocolate selection, was oblivious to their exchange and seemed to have lost interest in the whole discussion.

‘What about “Love and Forgiveness” or “Love Hurts” or “For the Love of Joe”?’ Cassie suggested.

Greg pretended to gag.  ‘I’m not getting involved with anything to do with the “L” word.’

‘You will, brother.  You will,’ Cassie replied.  ‘OK.  We could use an old catch-phrase, or come up with a new one.’

‘Come up with a new catch-phrase?  What, jus’ like that?’  He said it in the style of Tommy Cooper, fanning his fingers out in front of him.

Cassie giggled.  ‘Yeah, that sort of thing, but I think that one’s been done.’

‘I reckon it should be something clever, or ambiguous; a song title, or a really good quote – from a book or from a song,’ Greg said.

‘Brilliant!’ Cassie agreed.  ‘All we have to do is think of one.  Do you have something in mind?’

‘“Revelations”.’

‘Too Biblical.’

‘“Forgive us our Trespasses”.’

‘Ditto.’

‘“Secrets and Lies”.’

‘Been done.’

‘“True Lies”.’

‘That’s going to be a film in 1994 with Arnie and Jamie Lee Curtis.’

‘“The Secret Truth”.’

‘Rubbish!’

‘“An Uncertain Truth”.’

‘Hmm.  Better.’

‘If you go to trial later in the book, it could be called “Nothing but the Truth”.’

‘I like the idea of using “Truth” in the title,’ Cassie said, ‘Work with that.’

There was a short pause, then ‘“Truth is a Distant Planet”,’ he suggested, triumphantly.

Cassie pursed her lips.  ‘Why?  How do you mean?’

‘Well,’ Greg said slowly, ‘Like a distant planet, the truth is often difficult to comprehend and even harder to get to.’

Cassie nodded thoughtfully.  ‘I like it,’ she said finally.

Gran, who had been watching this exchange like a spectator at a tennis match, leant forward again, cupping her hand against her ear.  ‘What’s everyone talking about?’ she asked.

‘A book, Gran,’ Cassie replied, raising her voice slightly.

‘A book?’ Gran repeated.  ‘A book, you say?  What’s it called then?’

Greg thumped the heel of his hand against his forehead in a gesture of exasperation. 

Cassie smiled.  ‘I think this is where we came in.’

***

What does everyone think about ‘Truth is a Distant Planet’ as a title?  I quite like it.

J

Steve: 3 tweets

Scene 1 - day 1
Said goodbye to Kesa, met Shadow.  Hate him.  He smells and hit me.  Packed my satchel ready.  Please let me come back to Kesa.  I miss ma & pa already.

Scene 2 - day 48
Disaster!  Shadow dead!  Lost!  Am so hungry.  Sheltering in house of Jee-sos.  Kesa why did I leave you?  An animal is moving outside the door.  They're coming.

Scene 3 - day 168
2 days from village.  Wanted to walk on, too dangerous.  Slavers everywhere.  Must be gone before 1st light.  Have to warn Elders.  Kesa I'm  coming!  O love!  Gruff is growling.

Steve: Synopsis

400 years after a cataclysmic event on earth, the ancestors of the survivors have formed their own communities and traditions to slowly re-poputlate what remains fo the land which is habitable. 

Our story centres on a 14 year old British boy named Ty who is about to undergo his 'Manning Trip',  a rights of way trek from his village in what used to be Derbyshire to the Southlands accompanied by 'the Manning Master', a full grown adult who is hired by his parents to aid him in becoming a man in his village's eyes. 

The manning trip must be completed in six months and the candidate must bring back proof of his successful quest.  The path however is dangerous, for outside the borders of the protected village, the land is inhospitable, and for the most part anarchy reigns over the humans who live to survive another day.  Success is by no means guaranteed, for many Trippers never return.

Our story starts on the eve of Ty's Trip, when his parents call him in to meet his master....

Sam: 3 tweets

Scene 1:
OMG!  Would never have guessed what we now know about the riddle!  Who would have known it could be solved like that LOL!  LMAO!

Scene 2:
Just looked in THAT room.  Can't believe what I've found out but it means that one of us isn't who they seem.  Keep eyes peeled for oddness.

Scene 3:
Really worried Seb gone missing, been gone now for 3 days!  Some of us are thinking it may have something to do with a certain person beginning with E.....

Sam: Synopsis

Four friends of old each receive a photograph.  All of the photographs are different and each one shows the individual with someone they have never seen before.  There are no notes with the photographs but on the back is written part of a riddle.

This is a story about four friends whose lives are inextricably linked beyond friendship.  To solve the riddle is to solve the mystery of the photgraphs.  But what follows could not only shatter their friendships but the whole world as they know it. 

The story is based on 4 characters Ellie, Damo, Elizabeth and Seb.  They each posess different qualities that are vital to solving the initial mystery but on solving this it only leads to more questions and reveals that not everyone is what they seem....

Tweets - Ros

1.  Birth certificate found!  Hidden in Mum's old chest of drawers.  She's furious.  Oh well.  I'm elated.  What now?

2.  Met Dad today.!! Scary. He's handsome - I think.  Was he what I expected?  I can't decide.  Is he pleased to see me.  He said he was.  But.. BFN

3. England.  Bars, boys, BBQs - delicious.  Food, rain, shoes - rank.  Family - mother OKish, Holly- down trodden, twins - terrible.  Dad - fit.  Miss everyone. Txt, e-mail, tweet - please.

Sandra: Tweet-a-woo

1.  Someone grabbed Fred's ankles. Pulled him back. 'Sid' he shouted. Loud gunfire.No-one heard. Sid's 
body is left where he fell.

2.  2 boys banged  the dustbin lids together. BANG,BANG. Fred screamed and covered his ears. 'Funny
farm Fred' the boys taunted.

3. May crushed sleeping pills. Mixed them into a glass of whisky. Holding Fred's head still she encouraged him to drink...

Hilary - three twitter scenes - (actually mobile phone txts but kept to 140 characters)

Scene 1

Wr r u Jason ? bn trying to get u for hrs? in trouble. Need 4 u to cum get me. In Paris with NBF but can't b 'lieve wot just happened x:-(

Scene 2

Carrie ru ok? you shudn't have run. glad we xchanged nos! Dont worry. im fine now. w8 till u know more abt me bfore u judge me pls. Josh x

Scene 3

Wr r u? will cum out on nxt flight. Do u need hlp?  Are u ill? Let me know wr u staying. will need 2 spk 2 ur mum tho' luv u  Jason

Key
NBF =New best friend

Hilary - Colin and Jennifer

“So – Colin.” Jennifer smiled as she eased herself back into the soft leather chair behind her desk and placed her pen on the pad in front of her. “There appears to be a bit of a problem – do you agree?” she cocked an eyebrow as she gazed intently at Colin, the smile still playing on her lips.

“Not really a problem Jennifer – no, I wouldn’t say that” Colin drew himself up in his chair and faced Jennifer squarely, on the other side of the large desk.

Jennifer sighed deeply “Well what would you call it then Colin?”

Colin’s eyes darted around the room as if looking for assistance to help him out of the situation that he found himself in. “Well, I certainly think ‘problem’ is too strong a word for what is in effect a small temporary set back”

“Really? So the fact that you failed to reach your target by 40%  last month and were 30% down on the previous is only a temporary set back is it?"

“Look, the issue isn’t about my targets, it’s the general down turn”

“I have spent fourteen years building up this firm up to what it is today and your lack of commitment is tiring me out. The rest of the team are able to reach targets, why not you?”

“My lack of commitment? I can’t believe you think that. I have always reached target – it’s just at the moment…..”

“No excuses. We have to face up to the fact that you don’t have the drive to do this anymore. I cannot keep baling you out, eventually something has to give – you do see that don’t you?”

Jennifer moved impatiently in her seat. The smile had vanished.

Colin had experienced these situations before, he knew the signs.

“Are you letting me go?”

“The company is experiencing a  downturn of the worst kind. It happens in this sort of financial climate”

“So you are saying you are letting me go?”

“We are looking to downsize our sales team, that’s what I am saying. We cannot afford to support dead wood any more – I’m sorry”

Jennifer walked toward the door and opened it. “Thanks so much for coming in today- can you drop off the BMW keys at the front desk when you leave”

Sue: three tweets

Lilaslife

Just finished packing. This is it!  Circus life sucks; my new, real world beckons. Scared but excited. Car’s here. Got to go. Wish me luck.

 Dorsetnews

Circus fight leaves man hospitalised. Was female witness too scared to intervene/give evidence? Or is she protecting her newfound friends?

 LottieTwolife

@Sara12. Got urgent, similar dilemma re revealing my double life to my family. Did your approach work? LMK. More advice needed from all.

@= A reply to Sara’s tweet, which other followers can see.

 LMK- let me know

Julie - Cassie 3 Crucial Tweets!

Bombshell! Just found out David not my real Dad. Helen is my Aunt, Mum is Aunt Christine – never met her.  Father unknown. WTF!

Met Joe at G’s party – not seen him for 5 yrs. It was all my fault but he forgave me. Feel so stupid but so lucky. A 2nd chance, I hope.

Envelope delivered to work 2day. Photo inside of a bar. Says on back 'Ask Charles about Gloria from Virgin Isles'. OMG may have to go there!

Peter: Three Tweets

Maisie  @  Magi
Walrus is gloating @ his 5 spirits ...we  thrash  endlessly  2  and  fro  in  the  moonlit   lagoon   beneath  the  mountain..help.


Debbie  Newington   @  Boogie
Sleeping  out  on  steps  of  Radex  Oil  HQ  in  protest  against  Arctic  drill.  What  would  Dad  say  if  he saw me now?


Ned  at  Hatunquit
Shivering with fever in igloo...dreaming  of   meeting  Mum  and  Dad  again   on   pier  on  St.  Eloysius  eve.
.

 

Tony: the new car (dialogue)

“It’s an Alvis”, Colin said, getting out of the driver’s seat, and closing the car door with obvious reverence.

“Isn’t it wonderful!” Jennifer cooed.  She walked towards the vehicle, entranced, the sway of her slim legs adding to Colin’s already considerable enthusiasm.  Fingering the stylish fittings of the car, Jennifer turned towards him with an adoring smile.

“When can we …. take a ride?” she asked sweetly.

“Well, there’s just one little problem, dear – it’s not quite my own car, as yet”, he replied, his face turning a tinge more red.

“Not yours?  You mean, you haven’t paid for it yet?”

“That’s right, darling, I haven’t.  You see, I just need a little bit of extra cash.”

“And where might this …. cash, be coming from?”

“Well, dear, you remember your grandmother’s jewellery, which was left to you when we were married?  I was just wondering ….”

Character counters

Hi all

The sites below have character counters - just cut and paste your text into the box and they auto count.

http://www.lettercount.com/

http://www.webworldindex.com/countcharacters.htm

Sue

Homework and new class times

Hi all

The homework for this week is to write three crucial scenes of your novel as three tweets.

The new class times are:

March 17
March 24
BREAK on March 31
April 7
April 14
BREAK on April 21
April 28...and onwards

Many thanks for cooperating on this altered schedule.

See you on Thursday to talk about titles,
Gary

Dialogue - Ros

Colin and Jennifer wandered aimlessly along the beach.  Colin put a tentative arm around Jennifer's shoulders but she didn't respond.  Her hands stayed firmly in her pockets and her gaze resolutely scanned the horizon.

"This isn't working, is it?" started Colin.
"Nope", replied Jennifer.
"I thought a weekend in our favourite place might help, but I see now I was wrong," said Colin.
"As usual," retorted Jennifer.
Colin sighed.  That's hardly fair.  "You used to love coming here.  We, or at least I, have such happy memories".
"That was then, this is now."
"Then why did you agree to come if you thought it was all so hopeless. I..."
"But that's it, isn't it.  'You.'  You only ever see things from your point of view."
"You're saying I'm selfish.  But what about the time I didn't want to go to your mother's for Christmas; I went didn't I, because it was important to you.  It was just as horrible as I feared, but I went.  That's just one occasion that I can remember when I did something for you .  I'm sure there are lots of others. "
"It's no use.  I'm sorry."

Sue:dialogue

Colin walked back to the house, cursing  himself for his lack of will power. 

Maybe she wouldn’t notice. He could slip upstairs for a wash and to brush his teeth.

“Hi Honey, I’m home’ he called, as he lurched towards the stairs. His heart sank as he saw Jennifer emerge from the upstairs bathroom.

‘ I’ve got the DVD from Andy’, he continued, hoping for Brownie points.

‘That’s good,’ she replied, carefully watching his ascent.

When he reached the landing, Jennifer took a closer look at him.

‘You’ve been drinking’, she said. ‘Don’t deny it, I can see it in your eyes. What happened to the new start? You promised me you would keep off the booze but you haven’t even managed one day’.

‘For goodness sake woman, get off my back. I had to buy Andy a pint as a thank you.’

Colin moved towards the bathroom. As he brushed heavily past Jennifer, her eyes widened. She took a quiet, deep breath, and then turned to face him.

 ‘You promised...  we can’t go on like this. Please don’t make it worse’.

‘Make what worse? I’ve not done anything. I’m back early aren’t I?’

‘What time did you go out?’

‘Bloody Hell; here comes the Spanish inquisition. I’ve no idea. I wasn’t aware you had set new rules about clocking in and out.’

‘We said we’d be honest with each other. I’m not going to turn a blind eye or tiptoe around you any more. You’ve had more than a pint.’

‘Yeah well, you’d drive any man to drink. I can’t stand your nag, nag, holier than thou attitude.’

Jennifer flinched. Colin felt an unstoppable wave of power and resentment surge through him. 

Sam: Dialogue

In an isolated cabin, miles from anywhere....
'Oh Colin, what a wonderful place!  I can't believe you've never told me about it before.'  Jennifer gushed excitedly.
'I wanted it to be a surprise, it's been in the family a long time,' Colin explained, 'I wanted to make sure you were the one before I brought you here,' he finished, fingering the photographs on the mantle.
'Well I certainly feel relaxed here, or maybe that's something to do with the wine,' Jennifer laughed.  'So am I the first girl of yours who's been here?'  she asked, half teasing.
Colin paused and turned his back to her, 'Well I didn't want to say, but there was another girl, but that was a long time ago.' he sighed.
'Oh, what first love?'
'Mm, yeah, something like that.'
'What was her name?'
'Crystal.  Crystal Jones.  We had a thing when we were younger, you know how these things go.'
'Crystal Jones?  I recognise that name.  Do I know her?'
'Nah, I doubt it.'
'No, I'm sure, yes, hang on, wasn't that the girl who went missing?'
'Well, yes, I'm afraid so.  Her body was found in the river not far from here.  It, it's hard to tell you but I thought you should know.'
'Oh God!  What a tragic way to lose someone, I'm so sorry.  You must have been devastated when you heard about it?  Was it an accident?'
'No Jennifer, that's what I wanted to tell you,' he said as he started toward her, 'it was no accident.'

Steve: Dialogue

The park bench was in dire need of a lick of paint, and the sky matched the dark grey of the pond in front of which Colin & Jennifer sat, a foot between them, not touching or facing each other.  A minute passed in silence between them, before Colin turned his head toward her,
'When were you going to tell me?' asked Colin,
'I tried', she replied, 'but you were always too busy, and the moment was never right.'  She looked away at the solitary dog walker in the distance.
'WHEN?'  he demanded, anger rising in his voice.  'When did you try?  When did you think the time would be right?'
'I don't know', said Jennifer on the verge of tears, 'but you don't know how hard it's been for me.'
'HARD FOR YOU!'
'YES!  HARD FOR ME!  IT'S MY BODY!'
Colin swallowed what was about to come out of his mouth and composed himself,
'Ok, when did you do it?'
'Two weeks ago on Monday.'
'While I was in London?'
'Yes.  In the morning.'
'Did it hurt?'
'A bit,' a pause, 'a lot actually.'
'Look Jen, I'm not angry, I'm upset that you never told me until after, don't I matter?'
'Course you do, you mean everything, just stop twisting it so it's all about you!'

Sandra: Dialogue

'Jennifer please get your dog under control' Colin shouted.
Jennifer called her unruly labrador back. 'Henry come'.
Henry looked at her and carried on sniffing the rear end of a rather attractive dobermann.
'Henry come' she pleaded.
Colin walked towards her 'No, no, no. that is no good at all.  You have to make yourself more interesting. Inject some enthusiasm into your voice'.
'It's no good is it? He is not going to leave that dog to come to me'.
'Watch and learn'.
Colin held up a titbit at shoulder height and running backwards called out in a voice reminiscent of a demented parrot. 'Hen-er-ry come'.
Henry looked up and ran at full pelt towards Colin who fed him the titbit.
'Good boy, What a good boy.  Treat and praise Jennifer, everytime treat and praise'.
'But..'
'No buts. Now get his lead on and walk him along the line of dogs. Do not allow him to pull you along'.
'How do I stop five stone of solid muscle from pulling?'
'Make him sit before you begin. You are forgetting the very basics. How do you expect him to remember if you don't'.
Colin raised his eyebrows in a way that Jennifer found intensly irritating
'Henry sit'.
Henry stood with one foot securely planted at each corner of his body.
'Henry sit'.
'No,no,no. never repeat a command. Ask him once and expect him to obey. You are the boss. Give him to me let me show you'.
Jennifer handed over the lead.
'Here you are boss'. she said as she turned smartly on her heel and walked out of the door.

Jacqueline: Unattributed dialogue

The house was larger than he'd expected and, as they drew up outside, he scanned the windows of the houses either side for evidence of the kind of people he didn't want as neighbours.  They sat, silently, for a few moments, both looking, watching, listening, thinking.

Jennifer spoke first.  "Looks good, doesn't it?"
"Mmm." he said.  "I s'pose so."
"Colin."  She spoke firmly now.  "This has literally landed in our lap.  We'd be mad not to..."
"Look at it?" he interrupted.
"I was going to say, take it!"
"Take it?  We're not even out of the car yet!"
"Well I can tell what it's like."
"How the hell can you tell?"
"It's the right street for a start...."
"And by the right street, you mean exactly.... what?"
"You know what I mean."
"Do I?"
"Yes.  You do.  We've talked about it."
"Wrong.  You've talked about it.  A lot.  I've listened."

She turned to look at him, and he saw her tight smile.   "Oh thanks." she said quietly.
She was hurt, but he really couldn't care less.  He just didn't want to to this.

SPEECH - Julie

‘Hard day at work, dear?’ Jennifer asked kindly, as Colin slumped down in his favourite arm chair.

‘I’ll say,’ he replied, ‘I’m cream-crackered.’

The front door slammed.

‘Is he going in or out?’ Colin asked, referring to their son who walked past the patio doors and waved.

‘He’s off out,’ Jennifer replied.

‘Why doesn’t he pull his jeans up properly?’

‘It’s the fashion, dear, they all wear them like that.’

‘He’ll never get a job dressed like that.’

‘I’m not sure he wants a job.  You know he’s waiting to see if he can get on that DJ course.’

‘DJ course?  And who’s going to pay for that, then?’

‘Well I suppose we will.  He doesn’t cost us a lot, he hardly ever eats here, and he doesn’t make much washing.’

‘You can say that again, he must have had those same jeans on for weeks.’

‘Oh, Colin, you’ll always on his case.  You know he has an allergy to detergent.’

‘An allergy to work, more like.’

‘Maybe only if it’s in a detergent factory!’

Tony: comma splices (Rushton's proposal)

Pamela sat reading in the blue armchair, Rushton walked up to her slowly, and stood beside her.

“As I’m here, well, to be honest, I wanted to ask you - if you would like to be my wife”, he said, he felt this was not quite the tone he had intended.

Pamela sat with her face still lowered, he noticed, however, that her eyes had closed briefly.

At last she turned towards him, with a smile which made him tremble, “Yes, John, you know I would,” she whispered, softly, simply and quietly.

The comma splice. Ros

That which she had most feared had come to pass, she could not pretend anymore.  In once sense it was a relief, she hadn't realised, until now, the toll which secrecy had taken. Whatever happened she couldn't turn the clock back, Holly wouldn't let her forget. She slumped in the chair, all colour drained from her face. 

Sue: comma splices

Lila hurriedly finished her packing, Charlotte was waiting for her in the car. Lila took a last look around her trailer, she was both excited and scared.  The steps she took towards the car seemed the most perilous of her life and more dangerous than any of her tightrope walks, her future was unrehearsed.

Charlotte opened the car door, Lila ran the last few metres as if completing a marathon, Charlotte turned on the ignition and Lila’s new life started.

 .............

 I found this exercise difficult, especially when trying for bad, but also acceptably readable if the comma splices were corrected. I wanted to add more detail, using allowed commas. (In my view, a "correct" version of this would sound like a Janet and John type narrative!). I also wish I had been taught grammar when at school...