The House of Writers (7 page)

Derek Haffman, MSP for Linlinger in West Region, ambled along the road exuding machismo. The top button on his shirt was undone and the two girls watching him from a bench swooned at the sight of his exposed hairs. A bus driver was distracted by Derek’s aura and forgot to stop at the planned stop, causing consternation among the passengers (soon appeased by a glance out the window at lovely Derek!).

Yours,

James

To: James L. Horton

From: Derek Haffmann

Dear James,

Thank you for sending your paragraph. I have no problems with this as an opening but I am forwarding it to those who can best advise me on ministerial and legal matters. There may be a delay of several months.

Yours,

Derek

To: Derek Haffmann

From: Alexander Thane

Dear Derek,

Drear drear, dear! Where on Graham’s shiny arse did you find this semi-literate hack? Round the back of Oddbins? I read the opening paragraph penned by our Nobel Laureate. Apart from the nix artistic merit (I’m no expert on books but this paragraph reeks like a skunk’s nappy) I can see several problems vis-à-vis your image within the party. Firstly, there is no way we can have you “exuding machismo.” As you know, the party has a strong feminist backing (i.e. those right-on harpies on the backbench looking for a cock to kick around) so this upfront show of manliness will not be received positively. The implication seems to be that via some primordial male scent (Lynx’s Puma range?) you attract women without even muttering the quietest invite to your hotel suite. Secondly, the current party code for dress is formal—an unbuttoned shirt is not acceptable. This James hack practically has your Paul Thomas Anderson hanging out your trousers. You know too that the sight of chest hair will be mocked in the
ScotCall Sun
and we have to avoid negative publicity about MSP appearance after that whole “yellow tie” debacle last month. Fire this Horton. From a cannon.

Regards

Alex

To: Derek Haffmann

From: Road Safety Board

Dear Mr. Haffmann

I hope this message finds you well. The opening paragraph of your novel as written by James L. Horton was forwarded to us by one of your researchers. After a unanimous vote the RSB have rendered this paragraph a Code 9.2 violation—unsafe for a general readership. Our objections are as follows. 1) The character in this paragraph “ambled across the road.” It is unsafe to amble across a road that contains buses as this poses a risk to motorists and pedestrians and this sort of carelessness could lead to copycat “ambling” and cause traffic accidents or deaths. The RSB cannot be held accountable for this behaviour. The character should walk briskly across the road after checking both ways to ensure a safe crossing. We suggest the passage should read:
“Derek Haffman, MSP for Linlinger in West Region, walked briskly across the road after checking both ways to ensure a safe crossing.”
2) The “machismo” this character “exudes” is clearly a danger to pedestrians and drivers. The bus driver in particular misses one of his designated stops because of this “machismo,” and although no accidents occur in this story, the driver could have easily crashed the bus and hit a pedestrian. Again, the RSB cannot be held accountable for such dangerous and imitative behaviour. We have excised this detail from our above rewrite suggestion. Please contact us if you have further inquiries.

Regards,

Phil Cornwall

RSB Consultant

To: Derek Haffmann

From: Alexander Thane

Dear Derek,

You won’t believe this. Some quisling in our office (who I will be sacking the moment I unmask them—after inserting a kebab skewer up their rectum) has leaked all the emails about this novel of yours to the
ScotCall Sun.
Keep silent for now. Do not respond to any messages from wheedling hacks.

Alex

To: Derek Haffman

From: Kevin Williams

Derek! How’s it hanging in the Parliament? Read any good books lately? I have! It hooked me from the first sentence. I have a few questions about this book you are proposing about yourself. Questions like: how large
is
your ego exactly? Paying a hack to puff yourself up, must be quite a whopper. And how do you feel about distracting bus drivers with your sexual powers? You want all drivers to skip stops and cause traffic accidents? Are you planning to bottle this special aura that you have, or make it available on the NHS? I have emailed all the messages about this hilarious and embarrassing (for you) story as found in Alex’s inbox to everyone in the media! Everyone knows! The story is in the paper tomorrow. You might as well give us a reaction quote. (Don’t worry, I’ll buy a hardback when it comes out!)

Kisses, Kevin Williams

ScotCall Sun

To: James L. Horton

From: Derek Haffman

I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, A POX ON YOUR HOUSES!!! Do you have any idea what your stupid paragraph has done to my reputation? I asked you to EXERCISE CAUTION when writing about me, observing the proper parliamentary protocols, and you couldn’t even find it in your feeble scribbler’s fingers to take one single instruction due to the LUMP OF LINT BETWEEN YOUR EARS. Those twats at the
ScotCall Sun
are going to disassemble me tomorrow and it’s ALL OVER. You are being sued. I am going to sue you. You are being taken to the cleaners by me. I am suing you. Clear?

To: Derek Haffman

From: James L. Horton

Dear Mr. Derek Haffman MSP

I cannot even begin to apologise for the events that have occurred. When I wrote that paragraph I had no idea of the serious repercussions this would cause for your reputation. I had no idea it would fall into the hands of evildoers. I am utterly appalled. I have been close to suicide over the last few hours, turning this over and over in my head in perpetual torment. I have written this response over a hundred times trying to convey exactly the extent of the pain churning inside me, the wrenching agony I have felt knowing I have impacted you in such a devastating way and destroyed your life. I understood fully your intention to sue me, and please rest assured, you have my blessing to do so, and I will help you in any way with the procedure. I do not have many possessions, but if you would like the few trinkets I have and the clothes I am wearing, I will happily give them to you. I also suggest that I be flogged hard in public or set upon by dogs as part of the penance I will be paying you for the rest of my life. I beg you to be merciful with me, as I
never never never
intended to do you any harm when I wrote you that paragraph. I am crying all over the keyboard and my heart is split in two.

Yours miserably,

James Leonard Horton

W
HEN
I first met “General Manager” Marilyn Volt, I was impressed by her stamina and dedication. Two full marathons a day, muscles like tarmacadam, those tugged features. I soon twigged that she had serious mental health issues. She had convinced herself that invisible sponsors were backing her runs and that she was helping to raise funds to liberate people from the Scot-Call stranglehold or earning enough to help keep The House from falling apart. This is neither true nor amusing. The House was, when I arrived, in the process of sundering from the bottom up and atilt at a disconcerting angle. I set up a drug ring in the basement and advertised its whereabouts using my contacts. I called my dealer Mikkel in Denmark and asked him to smuggle over sacks of middling gear that I could sell at twice the price. This worked until I ran out of desperados willing to pay extra for middling. I hit upon an ingenious solution that saved The House from destruction. I paid the printers to “weave” powdered heroin into the paper of the books we printed. Whenever readers turned the pages of each book, heroin particles would waft up their noses, convincing them that each page was riveting due to the aesthetic merits of the literature at hand. I couldn’t do this with all the books—sometimes the H supplies dwindled and books went to print missing the vital ingredient—this led to disgruntled readers refusing to pay for their writers’ latest books due to a dip in their “artistry.”