Helen Cox is a UK author. She made her on-screen debut in The Krankies in 1990. Given the choice, her Mastermind topic would be Grease 2 and when someone asks her if she is a god she says 'yes.' Oh, you want to know about her books? Best click some of the links below.
Writers, like any social group, have their own dialect and it’s important you understand it. Why? Well, if there’s someone you don’t want to get on the wrong side of, it’s a writer. We lead weird and unsavoury lives that don’t gel with yours. We might be up till four in the morning chasing some idea that came to us two minutes before we were meant to go to bed. Who we gonna call in the depths of despair at four am? No, not Ghostbusters. You. If you’re not nice to us.
And, frankly, that’s child’s play. I’m not above creating a villain just so I can christen them with your first name. One who resembles the imaginary, hush-hush lovechild of Kim Kardashian and Keith Lemon. Scared? You will be. You shouldn’t put it past me to self-publish my diary on Wattpad either. This ‘special re-edited edition’ would begin the day you annoyed me, the rest of my introspective scribbles serving as a vaguely-relevant, 25 year-long flashback. So, yeah. The below is recommended reading. All we writers really want is to be understood. Is that so much to ask?
Writers in Translation
Writer says: I have a deadline.
Translation: I’m going to hunch over my laptop for twenty-four hours straight, pausing only to construct a piece of modern art out of the empty Diet Coke tins generated in the process. Requests for me to comb my hair or answer the phone will be met with a bass, inhuman growl.
Writer says: My new antagonist is an antiques dealer from Tyne and Wear.
Translation: I used to date an antiques dealer from Tyne and Wear. It didn’t work out.
Writer says: Life is good.
Translation: Remember that overdue royalties cheque? The one that was due eight months ago? It just came in the post. £17.22 and it’s all mine.
Writer says: Bonnie said the funniest thing today…
Translation: Bonnie is fictional. The line between fiction and reality no longer applies to me.
Writer says: We got the electric bill.
Translation: I didn’t land a publishing deal this month. I’m still broke and now the electric bill is here. Don’t push me.
Writer says: I cleared all the paper off the dining room table.
Translation: I cleared the papers enough so there is a modest patch where you might rest your plate. But don’t disturb my papers.
Writer says: Ugh.
Translation: I can’t write. I’m trash. Dan Brown is Proust.
Writer says: I got all the ink stains out of the bed sheets.
Translation: I used your credit card to buy new bed sheets.
Writer says: Want to go out for something to eat?
Translation: Want to pay for us to go out for something to eat?
Writer says: That’s it. I’ve made the final changes to my novel.
Translation: I’ll be fiddling with the commas again in about seventeen minutes.
Writer says: I want to die.
Translation: I’ve had another rejection email. Keep me away from the medicine cabinet.