The Playhouse

The book that Liz is working on is based on the life of a lesser-known actress, playwright and filmmaker, a radical feminist whose rage produced a violent, disturbing and nightmarish film about female mental breakdown. Liz had been drawn to her work, partly because she had seen a version of one her plays in the early 70s and partly because of her own research work on women, madness and sexual guilt. Sexual guilt was something Liz felt familiar with and much of the work resonated with her. Finding a publisher had been difficult but, finally, she had managed to secure a book deal and it was at the second draft stage. Her agent had asked to meet.

Once they had done the obligatory chat about the biography and picked over some details about chapter lengths, she decided to broach the subject of the other book.

‘I’ve been thinking about writing a novel on the sort of themes the biography covers.’

‘Really. What prompted that?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been playing with some ideas and it felt like it might develop in to something.’

‘OK. Do you want to get a synopsis or a chapter to me and we can have a look at that. Can you give me a bit of detail on what it’s about?’

‘The dangers of kissing frogs.’ Her agent laughs at this.

‘I take it it’s not a children’s book.’

‘No, but it is a fairy-tale of sorts.’

‘Happy ending?’

‘No, definitely not a happy ending.’

The writing box is still under her bed, it goes with her every time she moves. It is a trunk now which holds a lifetime. She has written so much in the form of diaries and stories, stories of what happened, might have happened. It doesn’t take her long to pull together a synopsis and, in fact, she manages to write a number of chapters in only a few weeks driven by a need to write it down, but, also because she has plans for it. It has a purpose, it’s about vengeance. It takes it cues from the fairy tales of the Grimm Brothers which are ironic fairy tales. They are filled with all the elements you would expect, but they are grim and violent and about revenge for wronged true love and are dark, but, most importantly, the villain gets his just desserts. She needs her villain to pay for his transgressions.

She sends it on to her agent who emails back to say,

 ‘Yes, absolutely, go ahead with it. Couple of points: watch your timelines and, while I understand the sex scenes are important, be careful. Some of it works well, some feels self-conscious. Be authentic, or leave some of them out. Call me and we can talk about deadlines and publishing dates.’

Time for the story of the Frog Prince to be told.

That Liz is able to write or do anything is remarkable. She has gone back to full time drinking and is rarely sober. She keeps the alcohol levels fairly consistent so that she can function and thanks god for supermarket deliveries. It’s the summer break so she doesn’t have to teach. She puts the fact that she never goes out, or sees anybody, down to the book deadline. She has discussed the novel with no-one. She barely sleeps and writes from early morning until the early hours of the following one. Her partner Charlie occasionally suggests that she should take some time out, but their relationship is not a close one. They are good friends, but nothing beyond that and he is busy with his own projects and doesn’t see, or doesn’t want to see how removed she is from daily life, how often she is vague about days and times and that she isn’t eating or sleeping. She sometimes wishes someone would ask how she is feeling or if she OK. No-one does so the cycle continues. Every day, the beast of hurt and anger is growing fatter and fatter. It will have to be fed soon.