Last night, an Australian novelist was in the audience at the show in Twickenham (South London).
Afterward, she said, 'You've given me a story. I hope it's alright that I steal one of the lines you spoke.'
I can't tell you the line, because then I'd give away the exclusive - but suffice it to say that Dave will be the subject (strapping romantic lead, I'm assuming) of an upcoming book. Possibly he'll be on horseback and some raven-haired heiress with a heaving bosom and whale bone corset will spurn his affections only to find that she's inexplicably drawn to his Adidas Sambas.
Er.. sorry... it's just that Dave always wears Adidas Sambas - they're a kind of sneaker/athletic shoe. He's worn them since high school. So, I can't imagine him without the sambas. Even on horseback.
"Have you ever thought of writing a novel?" - someone asked the other day.
I have thought of writing a novel in the past, as a matter of fact. And then I re-think it because I believe I lack the attention span. Shiny objects are the bane of my existence, and they're everywhere. Who knows.. maybe with age will come patience.. er, focus..
er... it's raining in Blackheath... shiny droplets on the window... drip drop... shiny...
Monday, March 29, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comment and I swear I'll read it.