Full title “Jeremy (A Story of Real Life, Only Not)” was a crass comedy telling a week in the life of a lazy young man and his bouncer room mate. It has been compared to the BBC3 comedy series “Two Pints of Lager”.
Based loosely on my life experiences in my late teens/early twenties, “Jeremy” was a project I never intended to finish.
It became a play and was performed by Manchester’s Almost Famous Theatre Company in April 2005.
It is technically finished, but I have not yet published it.
Stay tuned for a publishing date.
So I get ideas. Lots of ’em. More than I have the time to write about right now.
Here’s some of them:
A girl with a dragon. A boy with a sword. A missing prince.
In the siege of the Kingdom of Blahargh*, it was decreed that dragons were evil and that they must die. The King and his family, whose Darkwing fleet were the proudest dragons in the land, were slaughtered, along with the dragons themselves.
Ten years later, a blacksmith’s son is sent with a sword to seek out the missing prince, believed to have survived the massacre as a boy. The blacksmith’s son must return the sword of Blahargh**, so that the prince may take back his Kingdom.
Fantasy, possibly YA, depending on how the story itself pans out.
Darkwing would be the next story I’d work on, given time.
Ebony & Ivory
Nicknames of Emily and Ivy, two women who were inseparable as teenagers, lost touch after school, reunited at a mutual friend’s wedding ten years later. A kind of chick-lit story about the importance of friendship, and the idea of second chances.
Possibly with superhero elements, I haven’t decided yet.
A teenage girl wakes in a cold chamber in a hospital morgue, with no recollection who she is or how she ended up there.
The Temp Job
Bethany gets a temp job in an office, where the top floor has secrets.
This story would introduce Mr Drysdale, the Agent of Death.
A story about death. Kind of like “Dead Like Me”, only aimed at a slightly older audience.
Inspired by the song Fred Jones, Pt 2 by Ben Folds, Greenacres is a short story based in the near future, where people who reach retirement age are carted off to Greenacres–think of it like a country-sized retirement home.
Only the protagonist doesn’t want to go to Greenacres: he’s happy in his life, at his job. So he ignores the government mandate telling him to await collection from the Greenacres Red Coats (I was thinking like Butlins, only on a dictator level), and he instead heads out to work on the morning of his 65th birthday as normal.
Things don’t go his way.
I wanted to write this entire story, just because I have this idea of someone saying those lines. “I’m sorry, Mr Jones. It’s time.”
The Quiet Ones
A very vague idea I had about some kind of conspiracy where quiet children are recruited by some kind of underground organisation for…something…hunting demons, maybe. Or ghosts. Or demonic ghosts.
Based entirely around the idea that when something terrible happens, people say, “It’s always the quiet ones.”
* Yeah, I never got far enough to give it a name.
** Yeah, didn’t get a name for that, either. Fantasy is HARD.