Our writing group is meeting again on Wednesday, and as usual (if you come here regularly, you’ll know what I’m going to say!) I’m still struggling with the prompt we’re writing to. It’s a great and very different suggestion – “What are we going to do about George?” It made me think of the book published a couple of years ago, “We Need To Talk About Kevin” by Lionel Shriver. I haven’t read it, and in fact when someone suggested it for the book group, I said I didn’t want to read it. The subject is a school massacre by a fifteen-year-old boy, as told by his mother. Maybe it’s because I was a teacher that the thought of it was too difficult for me, or maybe because when the Dunblane shooting happened, although my children were very young and not yet at school, I was upset at the thought of the murdered children and poor bereaved parents. Of course, the story I write about George will be nothing like Shriver’s book, but now the thought is in my head, and it’s a little disturbing.
I’ve been trying to think of a situation where a group of people might want to “do something” about a person called George. Is George a colleague? I’ve worked in places where an annoying colleague has caused friction and upset, I’ve worked in schools where a student is having difficulties which affect them and maybe their classmates. On a nicer note, I can think of times when a lovely surprise is being planned for someone – a birthday, a different celebration, a reward or accolade for splendid work/achievement/success, a party with an unexpected surprise – there are no end of reasons why the question “what are we going to do about…” might be asked.
But wait… George might not be a person, he may be a pet – a foul-mouthed parrot, a mischievous dog, a bad-tempered cat, a deceased guinea pig. There’s a true story I know about a friend who’s daughter had a hamster which appeared to have died, it was buried with great ceremony and then my friend realised it might have been hibernating and took a spade and went to disinter it… There was not a happy ending!
I’m sure I will come up with something to write – but my fellow writers are so talented, and so good at finding unusual slants on the suggested topic, that I haven’t got that much time left now to do something as good as what I’m sure they will produce. Note to self: as soon as we get the new topic for our meeting in June, begin to plan what I’m going to write.
Lois Elsden 