Monday, October 09, 2006

Idea for a novel



Idea for a novel.


Submitted to HarperCollins publishers and others.

An alcoholic, coke sniffing, manic depressive pornographer called The Riviera Gigolo takes over an official government position at No 10, (with the authority to direct civil servants), as compiler and supplier of information to the people and parliament on the important issue of whether we should go to war in The Middle East or not.

This lying, low life lunatic and his equally, or more deranged boss, are at the same time under the total control of the brain damaged (alcohol and coke) President of America.

The alcoholic, coke sniffing lunatic compiles a dodgy dossier, full of lies and inventions, and convinces Parliament and the people that the Middle Eastern country has weapons of mass destruction and are going to attack Britain within 45 minutes.
This ruthless and driven individual has always believed what he believes very, very deeply. Lunatics and manic-depressives usually do.
He manages to convince parliament to go to war and slaughter 100,000 innocent people all the while contemplating the link between lunacy and violence.
After the slaughter he attacks (by exposure) a government scientist who is trying to establish the truth and drives him to suicide.
Things begin to spiral out of control, as usual, for this lunatic with an official inquiry (which is rigged) and he is forced to resign.
He then begins a public campaign to assure us that lunatic, coke-sniffing pornographers are not prone to violence and a danger to society.
"There is a lot of stuff in the media which quite frankly doesn't matter a damn. But this area [mental health] does have an impact on how people are treated. The most worrying thing is the constant association between violence and mental illness. Mental illness is not just about risk or violence. It's about getting out there and doing it."
At times, this lunatic says, he is so depressed that "you or I wake up and can't open our eyes, you can't find the energy to brush our teeth, and the phone rings and you stare at it endlessly". He tells how, while head of communications at No 10, work was a deliberate distraction from his lows, but that he missed media briefings because his illness left him unable to "face doing it".
This novel is a bit far-fetched but I think it might work if people suspend their disbelief, just for a while, and play the lunatic game.

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