And as I watch it develop its own legs and stumble its way into the world, I cant help but reminisce of the last few years that I have spent feeding it, grooming it, and staying up late watching movies with it.
My main project over the last few years has been a dystopian sci-fi novel called ‘Moppers Anonymous’. The cover and blurb are there for your perusal at the bottom of this blog post, and now here’s the story of its conception, in 3 questions.
1. When I tell people of the plot, the main response is “what the hell made you think of that?”
It involves a customer from when I was doing deliveries, and I really do owe this guy a Pizza Boss pizza. Maybe even a Mexican, (he looked like he could handle it). This drunken madman was falling all about inside his house, searching for his wallet I presume, and the cool breeze and the eerie music just gave me the strange feeling that someone inside the house was being murdered. Thankfully, after two minutes of suspicious sound effects, the rightful owner of the house managed to open the door, and my night continued on as any other. Sitting back in my car, though, I couldn’t resist scribbling down a few notes about what would have happened if the home owner wasn’t the person to come to the door, but rather, a masked figure…
This idea stuck with me, as many tend to until I wrote a short scene, and pushed it out of my mind. A few weeks later, I was minding my own business on a quiet night in the shop…
2. Another frequently asked question goes something like, “That title. Where did that title come from?!”
I think about random things. A lot. I can’t tell you what cocktail of previous events made me start thinking about the psychology of certain actions – all I can tell you is that at some point in the night, I began to wonder something. I wondered how much you could tell about someone by the way that they mopped floors.
I suppose I was thinking this because I was mopping is a partially lazy way, and wondered how obvious it was, and how many other characteristics an onlooker could gleam from my mopping ways.
This, mixed with my frequent hangouts with other drivers in the early hours of the morning, led to the idea of holding a regular meet up group for people who worked unconventional hours, and so couldn’t often spend time with the normal society types.
3. Am I a conspiracy theorist?
To me this is a bit of an unfair question, as it seems pretty loaded. It implies that your researched facts are not true, purely because a person doesn’t want to listen to them. I don’t believe that aliens are in area 51, or that the US government bomb themselves and then hide Easter eggs about it on public records and see how long it takes for someone to draw parallels. I do however believe that our current society is just (to borrow a quote from Rick and Morty) ‘slavery with more steps.’
When 1% of the world owns 99% of the money, and we pay hard earned cash to install screens into our homes that just beam junk mail into our brains, and choose to sit in front of them for recreation, I do absolutely believe that there are things in this world that need to be fixed. These are the sorts of issues I raise in my writing, be it through poetry, short stories, or novels such as Moppers Anonymous. Perhaps that does make me a conspiracy theorist. I do seem to be pretty defensive there, dont I?
Maybe I had better add a tin foil hat to my next Christmas list.
Well, that sums it up. The 3 main factors that built the foundation of Moppers Anonymous.
If you are working on a novel, why not chuck its founding factors in the comments below, or please feel free to link me to your own post. I love a good origins story!
|Leon just wants some fast cash.
Pizza delivery was meant to be a cruisy job, but a dead customer and a remote controlled assassin soon soured that gravy train. Between outback hideouts and underground bunkers, Leon stumbles upon the shady side of his boss’s business.
Turns out pizza’s not the only thing on the menu.
With the Police Company and the Feds pooling resources against him, will this pizza driver deliver himself somewhere far from anarchy’s reach, or take up arms with his desperate, pizza lovin’ brothers?