Memory is a peculiar thing
My sister-in-law asked me if there was anything I would like to keep out of her late mother’s possessions. Having claimed several photographs of my then infant husband I found some of myself, including one in front of a big wheel I couldn’t place (my son is far too young in that picture for it to be the London Eye), wearing a skirt I can’t imagine having got rid of and with a hairstyle I would strongly deny ever having chosen. However, the evidence is there, and I can’t argue with that.
Forgotten Papers
I went home with said photos and a couple of framed tapestries I may or may not have made myself, motivated to do some sorting out of my own.
You would think, as a former librarian, I would be better at organising our papers. Not long after we married, I did, librarian-fashion, sort all our paperwork into folders, each with a specific heading, which were then filed in alphabetical order at the bottom of our largest bookcase sideways on. When we moved a couple of years ago, I crammed these folders into a wooden filing cabinet that sits neatly under the desk without any attempt to go through them. It was no surprise that the pull-out door to the top drawer came away in my hands when I tried to add the latest house insurance document to a bulging folder of similar papers dating back at least 20 years. My excuse for not dealing with it had been a sprained wrist but it had been good enough for yesterday’s job, so I took everything out, glued the door back in place and set to work on the more difficult task.
Having got rid of pages of internet printouts on all sorts of topics such as car recommendations from the last millennium and advice organisations that no longer exist, plus statements from closed bank accounts, I found a folder headed “novel.” It contained a list of characters with a detailed list of attributes and backstory for each one, the plan of an imaginary mansion and a plot synopsis. I honestly can’t remember writing this or how long I have had the file, but what is interesting is that many of the ideas are included in “Ill Conceived.”
As it stands, I can’t see how this newly discovered concept would work, but there may be the germ of something to think about while my second novel is being edited.