A Slight Disturbance

We’d all like to leave a ripple on the pond.

Some people make a big splash by doing great things. They make discoveries or invent clever machines or software or drugs which change the world. Some people are exceptionally brave or kind. Sadly, some grab a paragraph in history by starting wars or being unusually cruel, while others catch themselves a little reflected notoriety by putting a couple of rounds into an unsuspecting celebrity or politician.

What have I done? I’ve written a book.

Not the same thing, I know. It’s pretty unlikely to make me famous (or notorious, for that matter) and I’m sure it’s not going to change anyone’s life, but heck, I’m pleased that anyone’s reading it and I’m cock-a-hoop every time somebody tells me they’ve enjoyed it. It’s done, it’s out there and at least now, when I shuffle off the coil, I’ll leave more than debt and a bad smell. Perhaps not much more - a procession of words saved in computer code, or stamped onto paper - but the idea that someone could stumble across a story with my name on it, even long after I’m plant food, is kind of cool.

In our house, we make stuff all the time; clothes, pictures, models, ceramics – we’re a regular factory. Some of it’s practical; some of it’s funny; some of it looks good and quite a lot of it fails on every count, but the fun’s in the ideas and the making and it’s all pretty immediate (though we have designed some kitsch products which have flown commercially and which will hopefully be raising smiles for years to come}. But these things don’t really tie back to us. We designed them and brought them into existence, but they are what they are, inanimate objects incapable of carrying anything more than faded whispers of their anonymous creators.

Novels take longer than most creative projects and I guess they generally offer a closer, more obvious connection to their authors – maybe just because their authors have to put so much effort into them. Every word has to be carefully considered, then placed in exactly the right order with a hundred thousand or so of its chums, so that they all march in step, keeping time to the beat of the story. Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes it’s agony, but when you declare it finished and push it out into the world, it feels good. No matter how fast it fades, no matter how imperceptible it becomes, it will always be there; your little ripple.