The writing problem

This story is set on Oblong Island, an obligingly oblong-shaped plot of land, where I live along with the only other islander, Terrence. One morning I was woken early by a hammering on my back door.

I quickly threw on some clothes, ran downstairs and opened the door to Terrence, who was in an agitated state.

“It’s the council, Other Terrence,” he said, “they’ve introduced a Quality Mark for stories. They’re not allowing any stories to be published anywhere on the mainland if they don’t meet a certain standard.”

“A Quality Mark? That’s the first I’ve heard of that. How did you find out?”

“They’ve taken down our website Other Terrence, that’s how. There’s a letter arrived in this morning’s post. It says they’ve had to shut down Oblongtales.com because none of the stories on it meet the Quality Mark standard.”

“None of them?” I asked somewhat shocked, “not even mine?”

“They say the stories share a common reliance on cheap jokes and lack of any emotional or literary depth. They say that even the better stories use the same tricks again and again and rather than exploring character they simply repeat tired mannerisms.’”

“Well what are we going to do? We both live for writing, there’s nothing else to do on this island.”

“There’s only one thing we can do, Other Terrence, we’ll just have to write stories that meet the Quality Standard.”

“What, like your ‘Three rabbits all called Steve?’. Maybe I could write a story called ‘Four badgers all called Nigel’.”

“Well it couldn’t be any worse than your clown stories. Who wants to read about clowns?”

“Well I’m glad we’re having this constructive conversation. We could spend the entire day slagging off each other’s writing, but I’m going to get an idea for a story that I know will be a good one, so I can get the Quality Mark and be read on the mainland again.”

“How do you do that, Other Terrence? How can you guarantee getting an idea for a story. Do you get into a meditative state, where the ideas flow through you?”

“No, I’m going to go and spy on Jed and Alun on Happy Island. They’re always up to mischief and their stories always meet the Quality Mark. I’ll just hop in the boat, spy on them for a few hours, and write it up into a hilarious tale. It never fails.”

I consumed a swift breakfast, donned my binoculars and sailed off to discreet spot just off the coast of Happy Island, where Jed and Alun live. Usually their behaviour is so eccentric it’s easy to determine what they’re up to from several hundred yards’ distance, but on this occasion their motives were hard to make out. As expected Alun rose early, went to meet the boatman and immediately walked to Jed’s house, where he woke him by banging on the back door. A short while later they both left the house, climbed to the top of Elephant Mountain and stared out to sea, using a pair of binoculars similar to my own.

However, they then returned to their respective homes and there was no sign of either of them for the rest of the day. There was simply no way of turning this into a quality mark standard story. It was dull, dull, dull.

I stayed sitting in my boat watching the island for several hours, but eventually had to concede that I wasn’t going to find a story there that day.

I arrived back at Oblong Island to be greeted by Terrence, who was grinning mischievously. “Your story’s been granted the Quality Mark, Other Terrence,” he said merrily.

“I don’t understand,” I said, “I haven’t written a story, I’ve been sitting in the boat all day waiting for a story to happen, but I didn’t get a single bite.”

“Not a story by you, Other Terrence, a story about you. Look.” He showed me his i-pad which was showing a story called ‘The Oblong Problem’. “You’ve finally been exposed,” he said, barely able to contain his glee, “Jed and Alun have written all about how you use their lives as the basis for your stories.”

I was shocked. While I had been spying on Jed and Alun, with a view to discovering a story I could write about, they had all that time been spying on me and writing a story about my failed attempts to write a story about them. You just couldn’t make it up.

“And it’s been granted the Quality Mark by the mainland council,” Terrence laughed, “so people all over the mainland will be reading the story and laughing at you.”

This was terrible, without any of my own work available on the mainland, I would simply be known as the inept writer who spied on his neighbours and wrote about their lives. However, an idea struck me. Jed and Alun’s revenge would make an excellent story that would be bound to meet the Quality Standard. Plus, it would give me the chance to tell my side of the story. I set to work immediately on my laptop.