How to be a God

In the course of the past year I have killed a man, made three women pregnant, caused much disturbance by revealing people’s true parentage and had more sexual encounters than is possibly healthy for a woman of my age. Or possibly as many sexual encounters as a woman of my age actually wants. This is the power I have. That is why, when you are a novelist, you are, to a certain extent, God. I can change the course of people’s lives. For ever. Don’t think I take the responsibility lightly. To me these people are real. More real than real folk like Tony Blair. Ok, more real than real real folk like the cute guy from Blue Peter.

I’m not as much of a god as some writers. The true gods of the writing world are the scriptwriters for delightful ditties such as Eastenders, Neighbours and Deal or No Deal. That is because the characters they write ARE actually real. So when they kill them it IS murder. The courts are full of cases of scriptwriters up for crimes such as murder, character-slaughter, Grand Larceny, Not So Grand Larceny, and wielding a pen with intent.

So, in some obscure and not quite true way it is lucky that my novels are yet to be published. Imagine the trouble I will get into when all my dirty dealings are out in the open.