# Writing > General Writing >  chapters 2 and 3

## blp

Chapter 2 Gwen

I dont want to say much about myself. Its dull. My name Im comfortable with: Luke May for those of you who dont yet know what a spoonerism is (see previous chapter, dimbos). Other than that, I dont think theres much to say. Im fairly bored most of the time. Well, thats me. 

Up until recently, I had a girlfriend whose name was/is Gwen  also quite uninteresting. We were happy in some sense I think, boredom notwithstanding. One day, someone told me Gwen was shagging someone else. 

At the time I thought I was going through some sort of ordeal. I spent some seemingly unbearable amount of days with little stars exploding around my face, feeling a toxic sting all through my shoulders and ears as if they were being washed internally with bleach. Now I have this one little thing, this ordeal, clutched in my hand hotly like a little blue sapphire. Not bored. Something to think about. 

Gwen. Gwenny. Gwenivere. Gwendolynne. Gwendoline. Gwendolyn. After four years with the girl, Im still not sure of the full version of her name. The last is the only version my computer doesnt underline in jagged red, so Ill suppose that must be correct. Its all immaterial anyway as she will henceforward, in this document anyway, be known simply as Gwen. 

What can I tell you about Gwendolyn then? Shall I start with the physical characteristics or the  whatever you call the others? I suppose if I start with the way she looked youll be getting to know her roughly the same way I did. She is a lightish brunette. She wears her hair not long and not short. Sort of just longer than a bob. When I met her, she had a dominatrix style ruler fringe at the front, which I found sexy. Cute, slightly chubby cheeks, a wide mouth, a straight nose and rather large eyes with thick eyebrows. Average height to short  about 5 foot 5, basically slim with a tendency to bulge out a bit round the middle. Is this helping? Do you think she sounds sexy? Do you fancy her? I feel much the same (Im not sure). 

I met her in a basement bar called Home in Shoreditch. My friend Colin chatted her up first, though he was already seeing Lize. Maybe she sensed his insincerity, because she started trying to avoid him and talk to me instead. I was fairly out of it. I remember Colin putting his arm around me and saying, You can **** her. Im sure you can **** her. Maybe, in fact, in the alley round the back right now. When she said she was leaving with her friends and I took her number and, as she was going, even though were standing in a crowd of her friends and mine, I leaned in and tried for a quickie grope/snog, but she pulled away and hurried off to the exit. It left me feeling slightly desolate, but then, just before she passed through the door she turned and laughed and blew me a kiss. 

We settled into being boyfriend and girlfriend pretty quickly. I suppose from my end this was because Id been in London for six months after Uni and, so far, hadnt had much luck meeting women (i.e. I hadnt met any at all). I cant claim to know what she saw in me. Shes not the most chatty of people, Gwen, not the kind of girl to analyse things much, but she was very affectionate and physical. It seemed to work. We were both basically quite crap people. She had a glamorous seeming job as an assistant stylist, doing ads and fashion shoots, which mostly actually werent that glamorous  things like Nivea Cream or Hennes clothes. 

By the time I started at UHEC wed been together for nearly three years and Gwen had begun discussing moving in together. I wasnt dogmatically opposed to the plan. If youve never lived in London you might not know about this, but renting here is a ****ing dog shag of a mother****. Prices are way out of control. Its not like you can lower your sites and get somewhere cheap by deciding to, say, not live in Knightsbridge. Basically everywhere, from Brockley to Balham to Kennington to Kilburn to Finsbury Park to [I cant think of anywhere else beginning with F], is primo expensivo and for what you pay out, what you get, in terms of space, hygiene, light, quiet, decor and breathable air may be very very little indeed. In the three years Id been with Gwen, Id already moved twice and it was utterly rat turd both times. At least if youre a couple you can afford a proper one bedroom flat rather than a bedsit or a room in a shared house, so theres a lot to be said for the idea. And then, when Id been at UHEC for five months odd, one of Gwens friends said she was going off to Paris to live with her boyfriend and did we want to rent her flat in Kensal Rise and we basically jumped on it. You know how it is. Its not like the extra intimacy or proximity was uppermost in my mind, but it was a ****ing alright flat with a garden and not horrific furniture and the rent was on the bearable side of exorbitant. 

Im not one of these people who ever expected to be massively fulfilled in any way or not bored and that applies to my relationships. For that reason, the thing that bores me least at the moment is to think about why I chucked Gwen. Thats what Im basically going to be doing most of the way through this, although I doubt most of it will look like that. I mean, like I say, there isnt actually much to say about Gwen herself.

----------


## blp

Chapter 3 Caroline



Caroline was Scottish and skinny with pale, blotchy skin and wore things like ladys-cut jeans and slip-on leather shoes and a drab pink anorak with snap-to metal buttons that looked like something from the Racing Green catalogue. I was still only a freelancer at UHEC when I met her and she was the only other freelancer in the copy department. I guessed she might be a member of a Christian youth group, based on her appearance and didnt pay much attention to her. It was only after three days of looking up at her occasionally to relieve the excruciating boredom of writing multiple choice questions about the derivatives market that I realised to my surprise that she was attractive. It was weird. Shed seemed so totally blah at first that when I finally noticed it I put it down to a trick of the light. I kept waiting for the effect to go away, but it never did. 

I often find it difficult to spot that a girl is beautiful right away. I dont know if this is a particular trait of mine or something a lot of people suffer from. Its the kind of thing you mention to people and, people being generally forgetful about themselves, theyre not sure if they suffer from it or not. Or theyre so anxious to prove theyre not gay that they lie maybe. Anyway, the worst effect of it is that, typically, once you do see the beauty, the situation can go from boring to really ****ing annoying without much of any real value in between. My friend Colin, maybe because hes an advertising creative or maybe because hes just a bit of a dick generally has this thing called The Beautiful Girls Problem, which he shortens to an acronym, TBGP, in the manner of garbage chick lit and lad lit books, possibly a bit like the one Im writing now, so I guess it could have a place here. He and certain even more irritating friends will break off normal conversation sometimes and start saying excitedly TBGP! TBGP! and toasting the idea with their pints. Its a typically woolly concept that sometimes is about always finding other girls more beautiful than your girlfriend and sometimes about the fact that they all look the same in the dark or something and sometimes it might be about this failure to immediately see the beauty that Im talking about now.

Heres how it happened. At the end of my first working week a load of us went to the pub, including Caroline and including me obviously, but not, fortunately, including Alex. During the evening people kept crying off, going off to homes or other engagements until, as luck had it, it was just me and her. As the last straggler ****ed off out the pub door, she was staring away blankly, smoking a greasy looking little roll-up. I wasnt really ready to stop drinking, but I didnt really have anything to say.
Were you and Alex friends at Edinburgh? I said. 
Sort of. She looked bored and kind of shrugged. Are you staying for another? 
Yeah, one more couldnt hurt. 
Ill get em. 

Possibly in the intervening I sort of went to sleep with my eyes open. Going to work makes me about as zoned out as a junkie on the nod even when, as is often the case, I have nothing to do. 

When she got back she said, How do you find it working for Alex when hes your cousin?
Hmmm. I dont know. He seems sort of needy at the moment doesnt he? I find that tricky.
I hadnt noticed. She still looked totally bored.
Oh really? Hmm well I shrugged and assumed a silly expression. Ill tell you what though, I said after a while, Im really surprised that hes suddenly got glasses. Im sure even a year ago he didnt have glasses. 
Oh right? Can happen though. 
Yeahhh, I said uncertainly, But do you know what though? I looked through them once and I dont think they changed things at all. 
She smiled at me vacantly, the whites of her eyes looking watery and transparent. It seemed like she might say something, but there was a long pause and then she didnt. I said, I mean, I suppose Im just never sure whats really going on with Alex. You know? Its like I can never tell whats real.
No reaction except her eyes rolled up to the left and hung there for a while and then rolled down. Then she blinked. My hand quivered. I got a cigarette out and watched a tanned, bald guy bantering with the barman. He was wearing a t-shirt that had its collar cut off and very pale jeans. The barman had a painful looking grin and was glancing around a lot and nodding, his arms folded defensively. Suddenly, when Id nearly forgotten we were talking, Caroline said: Oh, Alex is alright.
Oh right. Well, thats fair enough, I said, feeling livid, I mean its a bit I sighed. 
What?
Its a bit noncommittal.
She smirked. Dyou mean that? I meant it to be quite a definite statement. She looked downwards and started sketching with a small puddle of spilt beer on the table. 
Well its a bit passionless.
Oh no. Dont say that, she said passionlessly, possibly laughing a little, People are always saying I seem passionless. She drew something that looked like an erect **** in the beer. Possibly it was some kind of come-on. I said, Hmmm. 
What?
Dont you ever stop ****ing smiling? I said. 
Am I smiling now? she said.
Yeah.
What about now?
Yeah.
I guess not then.

Outside the pub I realised I could kiss her so I kissed her. Her tongue tasted sour from having been smoked and pickled in vodka all evening. She said, Shall we get a taxi? and we walked up to the main road and got one. She looked out of the window and drummed on the glass with her fingertips and we didnt touch or kiss all the way back. 
Her flat was in the basement of an ordinary Victorian house in De Beauvoir Town, a nothingy area with no trees, not terribly far from the office. The place was full of old newspapers and plastic bags, sort of strewn around. We did it once, unmemorably, in her bed. During the sex, I kept trying to French kiss her and she didnt go for it much. 

Her snoring woke me up about nine. I lay in bed beside her staring at the light coming through the blinds, dusty Venetian metal ones that were broken halfway up. I had a sweet feeling in my belly and a hard-on, but also felt rough and morally bad and had a slightly stingy, greasy forehead. I nuzzled up to her and kissed her on the cheek to show I could be nice and she woke up and looked at me as if I was a clock or a train schedule. 
You have to leave, she said
Why? I said, involuntarily sounding like a whiney five year old. 
You just have to, she replied, sounding more adult than many actual mothers.
I lay there blinking fazedly, feeling like I was trying to remember something important, but with nothing to remember. She was still naked. I reached out under the covers and touched her pussy, an action designed to prove a point but that ended up feeling pointless. You really have to, she said. I said Mmhh, and sat up woozily. I touched my armpit and then smelled my finger, wincing. I realised I was in a couples room from there being two clothes rails, one that was obviously Carolines and one with lots of very dull male clothes, like grey suits and faded, bobbling black slacks with pleated fronts. There were photos in clip frames on the wall next to the fireplace. Caroline was in them with a dead-faced, black haired man of about 35 who looked like an assassin or an alcoholic geography teacher. The photos were taken in places like offices and motorway services and pubs. In the pub ones they were smiling stupidly and the tables had lots of beer glasses on them.
I got dressed and said goodbye and she waved me out of the room with a sad, serious look. Id been hoping she was going to offer me tea or something. It was depressing. I walked up the road and got a chicken-and-bacon pasty from Tesco Metro that knotted up my insides. Then I had a crap day of some kind, which I dont remember anything about.
After that, over the next couple of weeks, we slept together a few more times, always at her place. It was never particularly good. I never knew what any of it was about. We also had some annoying conversations. I asked her once about the man in the clip frames: Is that your boyfriend? Yeah obviously. Is there something wrong between you? No, its fine. Why do you sleep with me then? Well hes away at the moment. I knocked a glass full of Ribena over at this point and it broke. It might have been on purpose, Im not sure. I was definitely hacked off.
I told myself I didnt give a **** about any of this and was just playing about. Im still not sure exactly what my feelings were, but I suppose they couldnt have been that simple or I wouldnt have felt so ****ing pissed off the whole time. I dont know. She wasnt that great looking. She apparently had almost nothing to say. The sex was pretty duff, as Ive said. It doesnt make sense to imagine I mean, Id have to be a bit of a berk to have actually felt anything for her. No, you can say I was kidding myself, but I dont think it was that. I actually think the whole thing can be explained by something I havent mentioned yet: Alex fancied her too.

----------


## Riesa

Well, I found myself laughing out loud several times, (I hope I'm not supposed to be crying  :Eek: ) and impressed with a lot of the writing. Keep 'em coming. I'm intrigued by Caroline, and I'm getting a sense of Luke, he's quite likeable.

----------


## blp

Laugh, cry, it's all good. Thanks, Riesa. Glad you managed to plow through it all.

----------


## SleepyWitch

i liked it too... er, you've really managed to get Luke's boredom and stuff across but the story it self is far from boring... i like the details about some characters, like Colin's TBGP.. he's just like some idiots I've met in real life...

----------


## white camellia

> Chapter 3 Caroline
> 
> I nuzzled up to her and kissed her on the cheek to show I could be nice and she woke up and looked at me as if I was a clock or a train schedule. 
> 
> Caroline was in them with a dead-faced, black haired man of about 35 who looked like an assassin or an alcoholic geography teacher.



Very interesting and penetrating descriptions. "Assassin or an alcoholic geography teacher"---this seems to me very alluring.

Luke is an honest guy, even innocent, anyway, and still sensible.




> Is this helping? Do you think she sounds sexy? Do you fancy her? I feel much the same (Im not sure).


I do. And I do. It works for me very well.

(May I ask you that Caroline appeared during the ordeal of the narrator?)

----------


## blp

> (May I ask you that Caroline appeared during the ordeal of the narrator?)


I'm not quite sure I understand the question, camellia, but it seems to me to be about a problem with working out the chronology. At the point where he sleeps with Caroline, he hasn't yet been told that Gwen is sleeping with someone else, so his 'ordeal' hasn't begun.

----------


## SleepyWitch

> I'm not quite sure I understand the question, camellia, but it seems to me to be about a problem with working out the chronology. At the point where he sleeps with Caroline, he hasn't yet been told that Gwen is sleeping with someone else, so his 'ordeal' hasn't begun.


aha! so he cheated on her first? are you gonna write more about Caroline's beauty? Luke started philosophising about it but then it wasn't taken up again... so far she doesn't seem to be very beautiful.... or does he only try to convince himself she is because he wants to snatch her from his cousin?

----------


## blp

Yes, he cheated first. As to the rest, I think I know the answers, but I'm going to stay cagey. A lot of what I'm getting at is about how slippery people's perceptions of one another can be.

----------


## SleepyWitch

> A lot of what I'm getting at is about how slippery people's perceptions of one another can be.


cool, that sounds really interesting! it's something that bothers me a lot in real life

----------


## Xamonas Chegwe

I must confess that the chronology confused me a little too. I expected that to be resolved in later chapters. Gwen is introduced and then... disappears, to be replaced by Caroline. I assumed that this took place after he ditched Gwen - but I guess not - it's your story though, you tell it how you like.

I really like this line "Then I had a crap day of some kind, which I dont remember anything about." I know that kind of day.

I still have no real idea where this is heading. I hope you do.  :Wink:

----------


## blp

> I still have no real idea where this is heading. I hope you do.


I do, but I want a lot of it to feel like those crap days you don't remember much about and _not_ to feel like it's heading anywhere.

----------


## white camellia

> I do, but I want a lot of it to feel like those crap days you don't remember much about and _not_ to feel like it's heading anywhere.


  :FRlol:  

(but i remember much about it, especially the 'beauty' of Gwen and the sentiment of Luke--he will be a round character or a flat one(no need to answer  :Wink:  )? 

(And I don't like Caroline.)

----------


## blp

> (but i remember much about it, especially the 'beauty' of Gwen and the sentiment of Luke--he will be a round character or a flat one(no need to answer  )? 
> 
> (And I don't like Caroline.)



Hmm. Interesting. Can you say why? 

i think I have a fix for the chronological confusion - one with which I can happily live: when Luke asks Caroline why she sleeps with him when she has a boyfriend, she asks him (logically enough), why he does the same when he has a girlfriend. He responds shrilly (and illogically enough) that that has nothing to do with it, breaks Ribena glass and on with the show.

----------


## Xamonas Chegwe

I do like Caroline in a strange way. She seems to have depths the way you have written her - like she's got something going on deep down; something that amuses her.

Gwen is more two-dimensional (if she has that many). Again, this is how you present her; you didn't so much just pencil her in, as point to the bare spot on the canvass where you might put her.

----------


## white camellia

> Hmm. Interesting. Can you say why? 
> 
> i think I have a fix for the chronological confusion - one with which I can happily live: when Luke asks Caroline why she sleeps with him when she has a boyfriend, she asks him (logically enough), why he does the same when he has a girlfriend. He responds shrilly (and illogically enough) that that has nothing to do with it, breaks Ribena glass and on with the show.


I intend to be feeling comfortable with plain woman---a simple pleasing beauty, there nothing illusive and confusing concealed. Caroline seems to trust her measure more than her instinct, and even not true to herself.




> It left me feeling slightly desolate, but then, just before she passed through the door she turned and laughed and blew me a kiss.


This is so nice that one could recall the first love.




> Shes not the most chatty of people, Gwen, not the kind of girl to analyse things much, but she was very affectionate and physical. It seemed to work. We were both basically quite crap people.


---Just my kind of girl.

----------


## white camellia

> Hmm. Interesting. Can you say why? 
> 
> i think I have a fix for the chronological confusion - one with which I can happily live: when Luke asks Caroline why she sleeps with him when she has a boyfriend, she asks him (logically enough), why he does the same when he has a girlfriend. He responds shrilly (and illogically enough) that that has nothing to do with it, breaks Ribena glass and on with the show.


This 'fix' works well. And this arrangement of plot might help you with getting at exhibiting people's slippery perceptions of one another.

(But this is only the beginning of this novel, as it proceeds, my feeling for the characters may change.)

----------

