About a month ago, I went digging though an old file box full of screenplays and notes, curious if there was anything worth resurrecting. What I found was a couple manila envelopes titled ‘Redhead on a Fire Escape’ Draft One, and Draft Two. I knew I had started writing a novel after I returned from living in Oz – a million years ago in 1986 – and this was it.
Faded typewriting on cheap yellow paper. Dozen’s on notes on each page. So I scanned in what I could and transcribed the rest. Almost 60,000 words of a novel! By then I was faintly remembering bits and pieces but some of what I remembered I hadn’t found. So I went back down to the file box and found two more envelopes, Draft Two Part 2 and Part 3! After transcribing all that, I’m now at almost 90,000 words and a story that just stops. Dead in its tracks. Only a few pages of confusing notes on where I thought it should go next.
Thinking back, I must have got full-time work and, combined with not having a clue where the story should go, I stopped writing it.
So now what do I do with this strange story, set in Victoria, BC in 1987, of a guy, a girl, a couple roommates, and a lot of climbing on fire escapes?