As a writer, you are heavily influenced by what is happening in your life at the time of writing your story. Other fiction novels, television shows, stories you hear from friends… they can all become adapted and integrated into your plot, sometimes without you even realising it.
Case in point: The day I watched the Oscar Trial Channel while working on The Legend.
I really have not followed the trial closely up until this point, but I was very intrigued to watch Oscar himself take the stand, so I had the trial playing softly on the TV in the background. Obviously I must have been more engrossed than I originally gave myself credit for. Here’s what happened:
*Excerpt from The Legend written on 10th April 2014* – Note: Deleted same day
“You kissed Aidan, didn’t you?” Reed demands. I have never seen him so angry and I choose my words carefully.
“What if I put it to you that Aidan kissed me?” This brings him up short.
“I don’t remember.”
“Did you kiss him?” he echoes his earlier question.
“No I did not.”
“So he kissed you?” he removes his spectacles and eyes me questioningly, trying to intimidate a confession from my lips.
“No,” I speak slowly, “I was cold and he was trying to keep me warm.”
“But you had a blanket.”
“Yes, but someone threw it on the floor!” I dissolve into silent sobs.
“Rebecca,” he probes more gently, “you’re not making any sense.”
“I won’t admit to something that isn’t true!” My sobs increase in volume.
“Aren’t you even going to apologise?” he asks, sounding disappointed, but I shake my head resolutely.
“Not until everybody else gets here. It will have more impact and induce public sympathy.” I collapse onto a nearby chair and settle down to wait.
“So that’s it then? Surely you must have something to say?” I give this a moment’s consideration.
“This is all Kwan’s fault!” I blurt out.
“Kwan?: he shakes his head, incredulous, “Rebecca, Kwan is your oldest friend.”
“I thought so too! But then I spoke to Barry Roux and now I’m not so sure.”
“Just tell me the truth,” his startling green eyes are very close to mine, almost hypnotic. “Did you or did you not kiss Aidan.”
“I didn’t!” I wrack my shoulders and give a few dry heaves to emphasise my distress.
“Morgan says you did.”
“Michael also says you did,” he points out.
“So you’re saying they’re both lying?”
“I’m not saying that! I’m just saying that I didn’t do it.” When will he cease his endless questioning?
“But you admit you were with him in the pool house?”
“I don’t remember. I’m just so tired. I hardly got any sleep last night.”
“You were snoring like a freight train last night,” he counters. “You know what I think Rebecca, I think you are adapting your story. You’re adapting and editing the truth.”
“Reed, I swear you better back off. I’ll shoot you in the arse if you don’t just back off!” A pregnant pause follows this outburst and then he narrows his eyes.
“There are no guns in the Rebeldom, Rebecca.”
As you can imagine, this text does not really move my narrative forward at all, so I deleted it, switched off the TV and got down to work. Some sacrifices have to be made.
So, that’s me done. No more typing while watching Channel 199…it’s hazardous to my storyline 😉
In other news….the Trial of the Century continues without me. I’m sure I’ll hear the verdict, regardless.
Happy Monday everyone!