I’m scrawling this essay while awaiting arrival of an estate agent photographer. This fella’s tarry to procure pictures of chez Strachan’s chambers the next step in my sibling’s and yours truly’s marketing of our late parents property.
Endeavouring to corral a buyer like a mousetrap snares unsuspecting prey, recently I engaged a couple of lady friends guidance. Their remit to supply a woman’s point of view as to what would seal the deal from their perspective if they were prospective buyers.
These female design advocacies resulting in small adaptations to the normal familial home lay out. Modifications introducing a realisation I’m perhaps not as in touch with my feminine side as I thought….. However, that being said, maybe that’s perhaps not a bad thing.
Continuing with the mousetrap analogy, hopefully these lady guided tweaks to the home’s feng shui will augment the residence’s saleability, coaxing forth prey who’ll meet its market value.
Unlike the rodent trap, though, hopefully this plays out without the bloodshed and fracturing of a potential new owner’s neck…… I’m no sales guru, but I’d suggest injuring, maiming or killing prospective procurers of your wares is frowned upon even in the most avant-garde of marketing environments.
Commencing this paragraph, fire sparks spew Catherine wheel-like from my rapidly moving digits as they pound laptop keys with engine piston fervour.
Despite this, my fingers are unable to contend with the velocity creative notions currently gush from yours truly’s mind – Epiphanies pouring forth with the speed of a greyhound hare towed by a F1 racing car at top speed…… As it stands my digit dexterity, like the greyhound, bear little, if no, chance of keeping up.
It’s an infrequent event, but sometimes narrative plot lines come just too fast to get them down on paper before one or more of yours truly’s ideas are inadvertently erased. Observations disappearing from conscious memory with the haste of drain bound precipitation in torrential rainfall.
Consequently, several ideas for this monologue have evaporated into the ether. Sadly for me, and indeed you, thoughts which probably weren’t as thinly watered down creative gruel as my recent lukewarm paragraphs.
Failure to recollect innovative ideas because you didn’t, or couldn’t, jot the notion down when they originally manifested is one of the most irksome episodes a writer can encounter. Especially if that thought was an absolute belting literary concept…… For example, within the last two weeks I myself had a couple of epiphanies which upon their unexpected arrival into my mind made me laugh out loud.
The first instance was last week in the early hours of the morning. Convincing himself the idea was so funny he’d never forget it, GJ Strachan chose not to leave his pit to seek paper and pen to record this whiz bang quip for posterity….. Well inclusion in his next blog, anyhow!
You’ll not be surprised to hear when I sought to retrieve this comedic gold at reveille my mind was as blank as Benny from Crossroad’s face when confronted by his CSE maths paper. Subsequently, I was livid with myself; particularly as I could’ve easily recorded the notion in my phone’s Notes app, which was within reach when this belting gag originally manifested.
I hate forgetting any thought or yarn which makes me belly laugh. Although, I back myself to have the creative wherewithal to pen whimsically, writing humour’s isn’t easy.
At times, the focus and concentration required to produce output in that format is truly exhausting. On occasion I’m so wiped out cognitively at the completion of a piece I can barely remember what topic tags to include pre-publish to website.
Anyhow, I need to bring this essay to its denouement as yours truly needs to remove the mantraps before the estate agent’s photographer makes an appearance.
