When I was preparing the challenge of the National Novel Writing Month, to write 50,000 words of a new novel in the month of November, I was really struggling to think of what to write; an idea I have been playing with is a group of people, in this case women, one of whom is the stalker of a perfectly innocent man… the reader gets to know the women, but the identity of the stalker is only gradually revealed – it’s a puzzle the reader has to unpick from various clues.
I wanted it to start with just a very silly and harmless ‘fancying’ by one of the characters… she thinks the man is attractive, and although there is no way they could ever have a relationship (she’s older, he’s married) she has a real ‘crush’ on him. Gradually it develops into something a little more sinister, but at first it’s silly little things, like when she buys something from the place he works, she keeps the receipt.
This is all imagination, but I have observed people and do know those who do have these fantasies about complete strangers – although the people I know are all completely harmless and blameless! My story is completely imaginary… but here is a true story which added to my ideas:
She was standing in the shopping mall, by the parking payment machine, waiting in the queue while someone found the correct change, when she saw him. He was walking purposefully along with rather a grim expression, not the usual smile; with him was a young woman, shorter than him, longish hair pulled back into a high pony tail, fashionably made up but with a very sulky expression; she could have been any age from late teens to mid twenties. She was definitely with him, but they didn’t touch as they walked, let alone hold hands or slip an arm around shoulder or waist.
He was walking staring straight ahead and she was looking at her phone… was she his new woman, she couldn’t have been his daughter who was younger, so a sister maybe? There was no way of telling.
The person trying to work the payment machine succeeded, the money was accepted and the car park token clattered down into the tray. She glanced after him and saw him still walking smartly along, the girl beside him, and then he was gone… afterwards she speculated with her friends… he hadn’t looked happy, he had looked serious, and maybe sad – and yet usually he had the most amiable expression. She knew he had split from his wife, so who was the young girl?
Her friends laughed, but later, comparing notes in her absence, decided that she was very odd, and it wasn’t normal for a person of her age to be so fixated on a complete stranger…
This episode which really happened won’t feature in my story, but if something similar occurs the stalker would leave the car park payment queue and follow him! If I should ever write it, the situation will be changed, but the experience, the watchfulness, the observation, the speculation, the fixation… that will be in my novel!
Lois Elsden 