So the roots of a novel set in the 1980s are snaking through the soil. But I like to start small and work my way up. My novelette ‘Dear Mr Betjeman’ began as a character study for an Open University creative writing course. So the final story that I wrote for my new collection of short stories (‘Athene and Other Stories’) is set somewhere in the mid 1980s. I began the story with a couple of references to get myself in the mood. First that bereft feeling on a Saturday dinnertime when ‘Swap Shop’ had finished and ‘Grandstand’ had set in for the afternoon. Then I was somehow reminded of the dustbins when they were squat metal canisters with black rubber lids. I could then begin to explore a Saturday afternoon spent with friends. What did we do? I remember the boredom, something that many modern children could do with a big dose of.
One of my friends had a memorable cure for the boredom of kicking about streets with nothing to do. This activity fit perfectly with the overall theme of my story. I called it ‘Demeter’ , I wanted it to be about harvesting food from the side of the road. I knew this friend from when she came to visit her Grandma from the exotic far-eastern town of Worksop. Her boredom cure was to harvest chewing gum from the pavement. She showed me how to prise a fingernail underneath a round pink or white splat that was stuck to the pavement. The hard, rubbery piece of gum then peeled off the paving slab and went into the mouth, to be worked into a pliable piece of confectionery again. We spent many an afternoon scanning the pavements, picking, peeling and giving ourselves jaw-ache. Here’s how it now appears in my story:
Lisa turned around to face away from the soupy water and inspected a narrow length of pavement across the road.
“There’s a big bit of chewy stuck to the path, shall we have it?”
“It won’t stop us being hungry.” Nevertheless, Amanda swung her legs round too and looked over at the gum. It was a large pinkish splat, quite fresh looking. “Alright then, you get it going then break me a little bit off.”
Lisa ambled across the road and sat on the kerb edge. She began to expertly pick at the gum, going around the edge with her nail, then prising it up off the paving slab. She brushed the grit off the rubbery round, wiped it on her sleeve then popped it in her mouth. Her jaw worked hard as she crossed the road back to Amanda, until finally the gum gave way and became malleable again. She stretched a length of it out with her thumb and forefinger, until it broke off. Amanda caught the dangling gum and fed it into her own mouth. The pair chewed noisily.
“Bazooka” Lisa observed. “I like those ones.”
On further thought, this is not the first short story that I have written which is set in the 1980s. But none of them were done so deliberately. They were set there because they are studies of characters that I knew in this period. Or they are a harking back to the childhood of my generation, whom I suppose I see as my audience. My first book of short stories ‘Seven Stories from the Seven Hills’ drew on family legend and personal memory. One of the stories is set firmly in the 1980s during the electronic music boom, when everyone was in a band or knew someone who was. I tried to remember what it was like being young then. Here’s an extract from my story ‘Shoot that Poison Arrow’
Gary was Amanda’s eldest brother and he caused a lot of trouble for his family. He was dead flamboyant, and early on in the eighties he’d caught the attention of a local band that were into the New Romantic scene but couldn’t quite afford the look. Gary had a bit of a voice, but he got them noticed so he got to be lead singer. Amanda was the opposite – she hated any fuss – could hardly stand it when you sang ‘happy birthday’ to her, so she used to try and pretend that he was nothing to do with her. Well, one Thursday night I went round to her house and the whole family were sat round in the living room, waiting for ‘Top of The Pops’ to start. Amanda had told me on the Tuesday that Gary’s band’s first single was climbing up the charts and that they’d been asked onto this week’s show. I had to keep it quiet though – “Our Gary’s looking a right state now, Joanne” she’d said to me “just don’t tell anyone.” I don’t know how she expected no-one to notice. Gary had been thrown out of the Smelter’s Arms often enough for most people to know him and I didn’t know of anybody who didn’t watch ‘Top of The Pops’ every week. Anyway, Gary’s band came on and we all sat in silence as he pouted from behind what looked like the entire Avon range. He even had nail varnish on – God knows how that went down on his Dad’s shift. I don’t remember any excitement in the Burns’ house that night.
‘Athene and Other Stories’, ‘Dear Mr Betjeman’ and ‘Seven Stories from the Seven Hills’ are all available to buy as Amazon Kindle books at a very reasonable price!
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sarah-Miller-Walters/e/B00DZPX09U/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Sarah Miller Walters 