2005 seems a long way away now. I’d seen Identity, a film
starring John Cusack, a few years before and it had inspired me to write a
novel about a character with a fragmented personality. I thought I’d have a
crack at writing a story from a number of perspectives, that would only slowly
reveal the truth: that the different characters were all aspects of the one
mind.
That was the idea. That was 2005. It didn’t, however, work out that way. I got
off to a good enough start with a novella-length story about a wild youth
enthralled by knives and samurai swords and Bruce Lee films. It was a fantasy
piece really and it would later form the basis of the first chapter of my
novel, some fifteen years later. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself. So,
there I was: with the first character under my belt and an idea for the 2nd
chapter. I took a minor character from the first chapter (an old lady who lives
in the same institution as the wild youth) and wrote her story. As a
stand-alone story it was fine. The problem was it didn’t seem at all connected to
the first story. And the style was so different that I couldn’t see how I could
make a connection as the novel progressed. With the third story, about a
security guard in a lab with preserved body parts in large jars filled with
formalin, my grand enterprise ran aground and stuttered to a halt. I just
abandoned the whole idea of the novel.
And that, I thought, would be that. O, I’d occasionally over the years look at
that first story and still think I was on to something there. But from 2005
onwards I got heavily involved writing film scripts and making short films. In
2012, I wrote, produced, and directed a low budget feature with some
independent capital and a bit of my own money. And I was also acting on TV and
in a few low budget features. When the HBO series Game of Thrones hit Northern
Ireland like a tornado, I got the part of Stiv in Series One, episode 6. Those
were good times -another highlight around the same time as GOT was having a
scene with Julie Walters and Gary Lewes in the biopic of Mo Mowlam (Mo).
Then along came COVID. The film work and the screenwriting just seemed to dry
up almost overnight. To be honest, I’d been struggling for quite some time to
get the backing for a WWII script and I was almost happy to down
tools and take a rest. Too often looking for funding for films is like hitting
your head against a concrete wall. You just have to stop for the sake of your
health and sanity.
I stopped. But if you’re a writer, you’ll know that we seldom stop for long.
Nature abhors a vacuum…so into the COVID-induced vacuum of my artistic life
popped that long short story about the wild youth. I read it again and
considered it one of the best things I’d ever written. Heck, I was going to go
out on a limb and publish the thing myself in a local press. That’s exactly
what I did and it made a handsome slim volume which I titled Noboguchi (after
the spurious name of a Japanese sword maker I invented for the story).
I’ve still got the bulk of those slim booklets. But I did something for which I
shall be ever thankful. I gave two very good friends a copy each of Noboguchi
and hoped that they would like my writing. I was prepared for casual insults
and put downs. But their responses were extremely favourable, with the result
that I was encouraged to take the story of the corybantic youth further. And
the weirdest thing to me -to me as a writer- was that I was able to pick the
thread of the story up after a gap of fifteen years and find within the text a
story that had always been there. But I wouldn’t have been able to write it in
2005. I know for certain that the years since 2005 have given me much to
reflect upon in terms of life lessons and writing technique. I guess a long
hibernation allows a story to unfold, to grow, and gain depth and resonance.
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