Those of you that have ever admitted to another living person that you are a writer whether ‘wanna be’ or official will at some point
have had the question ‘So where do you get your ideas from?’ fired at you. Unlike me you may well have a very articulate response to this. You see, I’m not entirely sure where my ideas come from, they either just materialise (sometimes at night like a spider from the skirting board) and sometimes it’s a Batman style POW moment.
Just the other day I had a POW moment and of all places it was at the vets. Now you need to understand that whilst I am friendly, I am generally not flirty. So after a tedious wait where me and the child had learnt about what plants are poisonous to rabbits and had both developed spontaneous itching thanks to the poster about fleas, at last the vet called out “Claude Osborne”. There’s an opportunity right there for a comedy moment or two but you need a good quality surname to start with like Ramsbottom or Butts or Winkle … you get the idea. Anyway, a rather good-looking man hiding behind outdated glasses was beckoning us and our protesting cat carrier forward with a welcoming smile.
Once inside the consulting room we discussed the cat’s progress since his last check up over the top of his protesting yowls (the cat’s not the vet’s). As the cat is so deaf his protests are on an ear-splitting scale just so that he can hear himself. I eventually caved in and opened the carrier which stopped the noise but didn’t produce a cat. I tilted it up to a 45 degree angle and gave it a little shake. Inside two large amber eyes were glaring laser beams at me. I encouraged him out with another shake and explained to the vet that Claude has savaged two of the veterinary nurses in recent months and frequently attacks my husband for sport. He’s called Claude for a good reason.
The vet was charming and greeted Claude with the beaming smile we’d witnessed earlier. He disappeared to find a stethoscope and returned with a fetching pink one which I obviously had to comment on and the cheeky little exchange between the two of us was broken by the child scrapping a chair across the floor.
An injection was needed and I courageously agreed to hold Claude and the vet produced a pink syringe. We exchanged smiles and in went the needle. Instantly Claude went into Ninja attack mode and both I and the vet let go. Claude made good his escape and dived between the child’s feet and under the chair looking like a speared bull at a bull-fight with the needle and syringe still attached. Claude looked at us both with a look on his face that said “Amateurs!”
We finished the job and we made a second date, I mean a follow-up appointment, for two weeks’ time. I left with a disgruntled cat and a lovely little scene. Once it’s had some work and a couple of rounded characters have been conjured up I will have to find a place for it in a future novel.
Bella has just finished her first novel, Acting on Impulse, which earned her a runner-up place for the New Talent Award at the 2013 Festival of Romance. Every fortnight, Bella will be sharing her experiences and advice as a new author. She also has her own blog which you can visit by clicking here.