Typical really, when you have this surge of creative energy and you are writing something that is really quite good then crash! Something happens, like someone has just ripped the battery out from your arse and then your creativity falls apart like a badly packed kebab. Well this happened the other day (22 May) when I was writing about the discovery of a particularly grisly murder when a local halfbreed crept up to the back reception area with a newspaper tucked under his sweating armpit. I had the perfect view from the gallery section of the library podium, overlooking the action that was about to take place. Anyway Peter Cook couldn’t have written a more perfect script and it went something like this:
Library Assistant: "Yes, can I help you?"
Very Old Hunchback: "I'm struggling with 16 across, capital of Mongolia, 2 words, I have for a few days now."
Library Assistant: "I really have no idea!"
Very Old Hunchback: "Well I can't finish the crossword then!"
Library Assistant: "Shall I try the Internet for you?"
Very Old Hunchback: "That's cheating."
Passer By: "It's Ulan Bator."
Very Old Hunchback: "See, she knows."
The Library Assistant looked around bemused and this could have gone on forever but for the phone saving her. The distraction was long enough for this lonely maniac to drift off to another part of the library, probably looking for Esmeralda.
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