billy was looking out the window at the rain.
what are you doing, billy?
looking out the window.
are you looking at anything in particular out the window, or just looking out the window?
i’m looking at the rain.
is the rain interesting? is it forming fascinating or beautiful patterns?
not that i noticed.
why don’t you write a novel?
why would i want to do that?
it’s just a thought. nobody is forcing you to do anything.
oh, all right. i guess i have to.
you don’t have to, i just thought you might like it.
what do i need to start?
well, you need a tablet, or maybe a pencil and a notebook - or pad of paper. which would you prefer?
um - a pencil and paper. please.
the nanny, whose name was celeste-maria and had a lush, full body, went to the old-fashioned desk that had belonged to billy’s grandfather and found an 8 by 11 inch notepad and a nicely sharpened pencil and gave them to billy.
now what? billy asked.
first you need a title.
how long does it have to be?
as long or short as you like. it could be one word, like “life” or “conglomerate” or “marsupial”. it could be a thousand words long, if you like.
do you have any suggestions?
well, i don’t think it would be a very good start if you could not even come up with your own title, would it?
give me a hint.
well… i don’t know…
i tell you what. said billy, give me a title and then my title will be the opposite of yours.
all right, said celeste-maria, how about life in the sunshine?
then my novel will be death in the rain, said billy.
there you go, now you are off to a good start. with a good title, you are halfway there.
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