Annabelle hadn’t expected to be singing “Defying gravity, just you and I defying gravity and you can’t pull me down” at the top of her voice that night at 12pm along the Kings road after she had been chucked out of The Crown. She had had a wonderful time, meeting everyone and telling them she was a hugely successful journalist working undercover for some high profile magazine. It was the next morning she remembered all of this information. She reached up in the bathroom cabinet looking for her alka seltzer, damn she had run out, typical, she hadn’t drunk for months so hadn’t bought any new packs but now when she needed some, it wasn’t there.
She remembered why she didn’t drink, it meant she spent the entire day wanting it to be over so she could start the next one. What a waste, she hated wasting days. One of Annabelles philosophys was enjoying life in the here and now, she wasn’t enjoying being here and now at all.
She popped the TV on and wrapped herself in her duvet. This morning was on, good old Phil and fern, they always cheered her up. Even when she had been pregnant she had watched them, so much so that when Francessca came out and was a tiny baby she would turn towards the TV whenever she heard the theme tune.
As Annabelle dozed on and off in front of the TV she sat up right when heard there was a competition to find a new presenter to replace fern. They were looking for someone friendly..tick, bubbly... tick, genuine....tick and someone that was interested in everything...tick. Please write in to......She grabbed a pen and paper and wrote down the address, she could do this with her eyes shut. This was perfect, a writer and presenter, now that sounded good.
So you had to send in a show reel, she had heard of these, they were video clips of you doing your stuff. She would get Emma her best friend over to help her. Surely it couldn’t be too hard, she was a natural.
Emma and Annabelle had such a fun afternoon, first they discussed what they had been up to. As they hadn’t seen each other for a couple of weeks. Then they discussed life in general and then in more detail, which is when Emma suggested they try the tarot cards again. Annabelle hadn’t used these for a while.
“Well I don’t know whether I should.” Said Annabelle cautiously
“Oh go on, we haven’t done them for ages, you can ask them anything.”
The cards did always make Annabelle feel good, they gave her inspiration and made her have more self belief when her cards had been read.
“Oh alright,” she said giving in. “What shall I ask them?”
“How about something to do with your job, the new one”
So Emma started to lay them out, the usual ones came up showing her money and wealth, the death one which Emma always hid, then the on showing her that she was holding too many things in one hand and then finally the one she dreaded, the one showing love. She just didn’t have the time for this. She couldn’t be bothered with another male in a chapter of her life.
“Wait” Emma said. “It doesn’t mean necessarily with a man, it doesn’t mean now, it could be a love for your job, no hold on, it is a love in your job, maybe you are going to meet someone in your new job.”
“Oh great, I haven’t even got it yet and probably won’t but you are telling me I am going to fall in love, this is not what I need.” But Annabelle always became intrigued by the cards and started imagining herself with Phil from This morning, or maybe it was another presenter, maybe she was going to have her own show. The doorbell rang in brought her back into reality. It was the postman, he had some letters from the problem page, from people that didn’t have the internet. She suddenly remembered what she was actually supposed to be doing.
“Right, showreel will have to wait I need to get on with my work.”
“How about I help you, two heads are better than one.”
So after a few bottles of wine and four hours later this is what Annabelle had achieved:
Dear Desperate Susan,
You need to work out why your husband was having an affair, was it because you are ugly, or was it because you have smelly feet, or was it because you are no longer good in bed, whatever the reason you are better off without him, you shouldn’t have got married in the first place, so I suggest you get on with your life.
Love Annabelle
P.S Harsh but true!
As Annabelle and Emma giggled uncontrollably about this response, Annabelle had no idea that she had actually hit reply. Before she had time to realise what she had done, the reply began winging it was across the internet world to the other end, the sender, namely desperate Susan.
Friday, 29 May 2009
phase 2 chapter 2
How many self help books does one girl need. “Change your life in 7 days,” “Experience the amazing changes,” “learn to love yourself.” It was the fourth one Annabelle had picked up that day. The thing was these weren’t for Annabelle, they were for her research. She had been asked to write a monthly column in one of the new woman magazines, named after her column “thrisis.” It means it’s for anybody aged thirty or over that might need help in finding where they are in life, there were columns relating to love, future, money and happiness. The one that Annabelle was in charge of was writing about the here and now. Discussing and answering peoples problems in emails that she received. The trouble was she could barely sort out her own life let alone anyone elses.
The first email had arrived that morning,
Dear Annabelle,
I am not sure what to do, my husband is having an affair, I have found this out by going through his emails, should I confront him or not?
From desperate Susan.
Annabelle had read it and then gone to make a cup of tea whilst she mulled it over. She realised she was in a very important position, offering advice on such delicate matters. So was she going to have the chocolate hob nob or digestive with her tea?
After much deliberation over the accompaniment to her cup of tea she resumed her seat in the kitchen. She hadn’t made an office yet, even though she knew she had to as she was now a professional writer and needed the space to let her artistic juices flow. The trouble was the little flat in Chelsea had sounded a lot bigger initially, that was before she tried to fit all her and Francesscas furniture in it. Francessca had gone away with Freddy for a week so she could get sorted in the flat and start her new job.
She decided just to check facebook and twitter before she got down to the serious writing. Trouble was before she knew where she was, it was middle of the afternoon and she hadn’t even started her first reply. The editor was expecting at least three replies to be on her desk by tomorrow afternoon at the latest along with her piece of advice for the week. This wasn’t turning out to be as much fun as she had thought. Maybe she needed a drink. Although it was a little too early. This was no good everything was distracting her, she needed inspiration and a place to think.
She thought back to her little villa in France, there had definitely been too many distractions there, but she hadn’t minded that! Maybe that could be her piece of advice: Take what life throws at you and go with it. Maybe that sounded too hippyish but it would be OK for now.
Ok back to Susans letter. Well she could either confront him or she could do the same or make him pay without him knowing that his she knows. It was difficult giving this kind of advice when she had no background on her email writers. So she had a great idea, maybe she could be more than the advice giver maybe she could actually help these people by getting into their lives, almost like a detective. A love detective. At least it would mean she could give true advice. She would suggest it to her editor tomorrow. For now though she decided to go off to her new local and see what it was like and what kind of people went there. A good excuse for more inspiration.
The first email had arrived that morning,
Dear Annabelle,
I am not sure what to do, my husband is having an affair, I have found this out by going through his emails, should I confront him or not?
From desperate Susan.
Annabelle had read it and then gone to make a cup of tea whilst she mulled it over. She realised she was in a very important position, offering advice on such delicate matters. So was she going to have the chocolate hob nob or digestive with her tea?
After much deliberation over the accompaniment to her cup of tea she resumed her seat in the kitchen. She hadn’t made an office yet, even though she knew she had to as she was now a professional writer and needed the space to let her artistic juices flow. The trouble was the little flat in Chelsea had sounded a lot bigger initially, that was before she tried to fit all her and Francesscas furniture in it. Francessca had gone away with Freddy for a week so she could get sorted in the flat and start her new job.
She decided just to check facebook and twitter before she got down to the serious writing. Trouble was before she knew where she was, it was middle of the afternoon and she hadn’t even started her first reply. The editor was expecting at least three replies to be on her desk by tomorrow afternoon at the latest along with her piece of advice for the week. This wasn’t turning out to be as much fun as she had thought. Maybe she needed a drink. Although it was a little too early. This was no good everything was distracting her, she needed inspiration and a place to think.
She thought back to her little villa in France, there had definitely been too many distractions there, but she hadn’t minded that! Maybe that could be her piece of advice: Take what life throws at you and go with it. Maybe that sounded too hippyish but it would be OK for now.
Ok back to Susans letter. Well she could either confront him or she could do the same or make him pay without him knowing that his she knows. It was difficult giving this kind of advice when she had no background on her email writers. So she had a great idea, maybe she could be more than the advice giver maybe she could actually help these people by getting into their lives, almost like a detective. A love detective. At least it would mean she could give true advice. She would suggest it to her editor tomorrow. For now though she decided to go off to her new local and see what it was like and what kind of people went there. A good excuse for more inspiration.
Phase two
As Horatio stood there leaning over Melanie ready to kiss her, she knew this would be the one to......melt her heart, no, send her quivering, no, leave her gasping for air, no, no and no again. It just wasn’t working. Bloody Horatio was turning out to be an absolute pratt and Melanie a psycho, no-one would want to read this drivel. Annabelle didn’t want to read this drivel. Why did it seem to be so easy for some people, how come it came naturally to them. Annabelle had thought it sounded so romantic to say she was a writer, it had given her purpose.
She realised she was bored with this so went to get a coffee, that’s when it happened. She had gone to use her card and it had been declined, this wasn‘t good. Annabelle suddenly remembered she had spent quite a lot on coming out to South of France and hadn’t expected to stay for this long. That is when she decided to write seriously. She started writing about the characters she saw and making up wonderful intricate stories about them. She hoped she would be able to turn this into a best selling book. So she had been genuinely surprised when she had been spotted one day by another writer who wrote for a magazine for teenagers, she made Annabelle send her work into the editor, he had read it and then suggested it for this new magazine.
Annabelle had jumped at the chance especially as it meant she could earn some money. The trouble was at the interview she wasn’t exactly truthful
“So, how long have you been writing for?”
“Well over a period of well I suppose a couple of years” she had blagged.
“What style do you prefer to write in?”
“Well, I suppose whichever style the reader likes to read.” She blagged.
“What do you hope to achieve when writing for our readers?”
“Well I suppose answering their questions!” she blagged.
“When can you start?”
Her blagging had obviously worked, or they were desperate as they offered her a job then and there.
She had to start right away. SO she left her villa and returned back to the not so sunny parts of London.
It was a bit of a shock coming back as she still had quite a lot of domestic admin to sort out. She had to find a new flat for her and Francessca as she had now separated from her husband Freddy. They had sold their old house and split the money equally. Annabelle had decided it was time for a change, so she had chosen Chelsea, the trouble was the prices were extortionate, however she was getting her first paycheque in this week before she had even started writing, so there shouldn’t be any problems finding something. As she sat on the flight home contemplating her next move she decided to start work on her column.
She realised she was bored with this so went to get a coffee, that’s when it happened. She had gone to use her card and it had been declined, this wasn‘t good. Annabelle suddenly remembered she had spent quite a lot on coming out to South of France and hadn’t expected to stay for this long. That is when she decided to write seriously. She started writing about the characters she saw and making up wonderful intricate stories about them. She hoped she would be able to turn this into a best selling book. So she had been genuinely surprised when she had been spotted one day by another writer who wrote for a magazine for teenagers, she made Annabelle send her work into the editor, he had read it and then suggested it for this new magazine.
Annabelle had jumped at the chance especially as it meant she could earn some money. The trouble was at the interview she wasn’t exactly truthful
“So, how long have you been writing for?”
“Well over a period of well I suppose a couple of years” she had blagged.
“What style do you prefer to write in?”
“Well, I suppose whichever style the reader likes to read.” She blagged.
“What do you hope to achieve when writing for our readers?”
“Well I suppose answering their questions!” she blagged.
“When can you start?”
Her blagging had obviously worked, or they were desperate as they offered her a job then and there.
She had to start right away. SO she left her villa and returned back to the not so sunny parts of London.
It was a bit of a shock coming back as she still had quite a lot of domestic admin to sort out. She had to find a new flat for her and Francessca as she had now separated from her husband Freddy. They had sold their old house and split the money equally. Annabelle had decided it was time for a change, so she had chosen Chelsea, the trouble was the prices were extortionate, however she was getting her first paycheque in this week before she had even started writing, so there shouldn’t be any problems finding something. As she sat on the flight home contemplating her next move she decided to start work on her column.
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