Chapter 62
Three weeks later
Leo
I’ve learnt a lot about resentments over the past year.
I’ve been told they’re like drinking poison and hoping the other person will die. I get that, I do. But I have also learnt that they can be useful. They can make you want to change your fucking life. I think, without them, without their toxic fucking potency, I would have let myself disappear.
But now I feel awake. More alive than ever.
Because I’m fucking angry.
And desperate.
The gift of desperation.
And I don’t want a drink. I don’t want sex. Not anymore.
I’ve spent the last few weeks going to the library, where the computers are free. They have Microsoft Word and all. Been dead nice, actually. Nice and quiet. Thought my brain would hate it, but I’ve done all right. Got into a bit of a flow state. Felt fucking incredible.
And then, in the evenings, after the library writing seshes, I’ve been sat outside the M the way her neglect affects him is truly believable.
I love the plot development... That he decides to get revenge and drive her insane (what a clever idea!) by following her around London, and when she moves to the countryside, his leaving the notes and odd little poems on her doorstep is a brilliant way to begin with this.
I’m thinking the story can continue with him creeping into her house, moving things, etc.
, making her feel like she is really losing her mind.
I just really want things to escalate. Are you able to make him a real threat to her?
Make him become... obsessive? This is such a great word, one that’s really been circulating around the publishing world recently.
He could actually become enamoured with her, too.
And, I know you weren’t sure, but I think it would be really, really impactful if it ended with her death.
Ending a book with a dead therapist: this will certainly get people talking.
It asks some wider questions. How safe is therapy nowadays, in this world of overexposure to wellness?
Everyone seems to be a therapist now. Is this dangerous? Dangerous for whom? And how?
I love the conversation it opens up.
I think the concept could be a real winner. I was speaking with a few editors at some leading publishing houses at an event only a couple of weeks ago, and there is a real thirst for danger. For horror. But horror that feels as if it could happen to you. That’s the key. It needs to feel real.
I look forward to reading more from you, Luke. There is an anger in your writing that really propels it. It’s very exciting to read.
Remember, authenticity sells. Make these characters as real as you can. Do some research. Find the voices of the characters, their inner worlds. Make people scared. If people are scared that it could happen to them, we are winning.
Go for it. Go dark.
There is an appetite for dark.
All my best (for now!),
Stan
It’s dark now.
I look up at the house.
It’s nice, this place. Small. White walls. Plants growing up the sides.
When I reach the porch, I can see there is a light on in a downstairs room.
A little light. On a writing desk.
There she is. Sat at the bureau. A big cardigan wrapped around her, glass of wine in hand.
My lead character.
A new story begins now.