Here’s a useful exercise. Take a text you have studied for GCSE Eglish Literature and turn it into another story. An exercise with Phoenix Writers asked us to write about the same memory or event from two, opposing perspectives. Where is the truth? How can you create a voice for your narrator?
Shortcuts.We knew where to find him.It’s not hard to predict people, especially with our training. We pride ourselves on our dark clarity. That’s why our stage name had to change. When we got famous we dropped the weird sisters act( so ancient gothic!) and became the Black Diamonds. Far more alluring don’t you think? One has to move with the times. That’s why in our latest book, we’ve re-branded as life coaches – our violent pink subheading claims we are emotional archaeologists by trade. And that this was the first adventure on our journey.Naturally, we accosted him in a lonely place. The foul, foggy weather enhanced our powers of persuasion. We loitered about playing tricks, until there was the fool preening himself after some baleful victory; brimful with vanity. A leather-clad peacock about to be plucked.We danced around him for our own amusement. Flattered the hopeless fool. Plied him with a few seductive whispers; leaned in close so his ear expected to be kissed. The fool acted surprised, shaken with the shame of being found out. We worried a little about his companion though, who noticed everything. But then he sulked- complained about being overlooked and so we improvised. Made him complicit.Nothing exceptional there because my sisters know things that the world pretends it doesn’t need or want. To put our philosophy in a nutshell, We prise open skulls and hearts and spit out what’s Festering There.Fair is foul after all.I should have never listened to my wife.She told me to hurry home after my glorious victory ( messengers adored me then) and so I risked a shortcut across some wilderness to speed my journey back to her embrace. I felt safe at first in that lonely place because my comrade was by my side, as he was in battle, yet inside my head, something was already gnawing away at the better man.For when we met the unholy trinity in that bewildering place, their unblinking eyes tore away at my buried secrets- melted my mind. ‘Oh, there you are!’ they chorused as if everything I craved in the middle of a feverish night was suddenly painted in lurid graffiti on my castle walls.The one who was with me, but was not me, knew something was wrong straight away. He stared at us, already aware that the girls and I were on the same page of a dark, dangerous book. And that his loyal friendship had been bartered for their promises. But what did I care?Until I looked into my wife’s eyes again and I realised that I should have cared because the strange women had followed me all the way home and annihilated all our tomorrows.