What have i done (again).
Professor Joydeep Bhattacharya from the University of London has an explanation for why some people (eg. me) don’t seem to learn from their mistakes. He’s from the psychology department, so I’ll hazard a guess it has something to do with the brain, and/or being weaned off the nipple too soon, and/or not eating enough tuna. I should probably read the bloody extract at least, if not the whole study, but I can’t get past the Professor’s name: Joydeep! Hah! Love it. Indians get the best names, for example, Sheila Dikshit (former Chief Minister of Delhi); Dr V. B. Boob (a bona-fide Indian doctor, hoping against hope that V=very and B=big); and Profess Anu Sharma (which you have to think about a bit). But I can’t laugh. Only by luck am I not a Bent Helmut, an Odd Per, or a Gun Knut. Lucky, because there are already too many Gun Knuts in the world (are you listening, Hillary?). It could have been way worse, though. I could have been Dutch, and stuck with Freek Fokker, Pik Aarsman, or Tiny Kox. Count your blessings Kaisson that you’re not a Tiny Kox, and count them twice.
I mean, shit. Fifty-thousand words? In a month? What was I thinking. I failed the first time, and unless Professor Deepjoy was wrong, I am no less likely to fail now than a year ago. Only, this time I have one chapter of a strange murder mystery already written, which I was trying stubbornly to muscle into the detective-noir genre, but which just doesn’t fit. Strange apparitions kept popping up in my fiction, and I couldn’t get bloody Tilda Swinton out of my head as the female protagonist. So, rather than fight it, I just went with the flow and now this nastily disturbing opening scene which has changed everything I though this story would be about. I include her picture below because, yes, I think she could pull off a Tiny Kok if she, erm … you know, wanted to …
Anyhoo! Back OP — perhaps I may have said this the first time around, but it applies equally in 2016 — please wish Tilda and I good luck, and bon voyage!