The Narrative Morgue
When I launched this Substack page, one year ago to the day, the closing paragraph of my opening gambit read … ‘To ensure that I don’t immediately fail to meet your moderate expectations, I won’t be committing to any word count or weekly timetable. You might get a 3000 word rant about the paucity of basil leaves on Gourmet Buffalo Marguerita Pizzas or just a picture of a ferret wearing a hat. The best way for you to enjoy this blogletter is to truncate your hopes.’
Here we are one year hence, and I’ve made good on my promise to provide sporadic content, delivered capriciously with no discernible or cogent parameters.
However, rather than dwell on the positives, I’ve learnt from experience that the best way to keep improving ones output is to pay heed to the missteps. You, the reader, only get to see the polished finished product, or at least that’s what I tell myself so that I can sleep. What you don’t get to see are the countless pieces that never had their ‘publish’ button clicked.
There are many reasons why certain stories don’t get over the line. Some havent bean proof read, while others misuse similes like a moth to a flame. Some overuse adjectives when just one, single, solitary, lone adjective would have sufficed and literally thousands of the abandoned pieces fell victim to hyperbole. Often the narratives wood fall fowl of homophones and there were times when some of the stories were blighted by tangents that took the reader on a sequin clad donkey up to a hilltop monastery occupied by primary school receptionists from the Port Macquarie area on a detox retreat.
As we move into the second year of The Complete Perks of Damian Callinan, it’s a good time to reflect and pay our respects to the stories that withered on the vine. Come down to the basement with me as we wander through The Narrative Morgue, and hear the coroner’s findings on the ones that didn’t quite make it.
Title: PETER DUTTON KILLED TUPAC
COD: Let’s just say that my first crack at investigative journalism wasn’t as successful as I had hoped. Despite Dutton being quoted as saying ‘I’m not much a fan of rap music, but good on them’, Dutton turned out to have an iron clad alibi on the day of the shooting (September 7th, 1996). In 1996 he was a member of the Queensland Police Force and at the time of the shooting, he was issuing falsified parking tickets in the car park of the Caboolture Senior Citizens Club during their weekly bingo call. I was still going to publish the story anyway, but my lawyers intervened. Once the DNA tests come in, we are still hoping to publish ‘Peter Dutton Killed Biggie Smalls’
Title: WH NDS VWLS??
COD: Turns you do need vowels if you want a coherent story. Not even I could make sense of it when I re-read the first draft.
Title: THE CASE OF THE EVER-CHANGING PROTAGONIST
COD: In a quest to subvert the paradigm of narrative construction, I decided to constantly change the point of view of the story to keep the reader on their toes. To best explain why it was never published, I ask your indulgence in reading the sample text below.
Jeremiah hesitated before choosing a hat. The fedora was a bold statement, but Jacinta knew that the beanie was the more sensible option for this bitterly cold New York morning. Hatless, Henry stepped over the stoop and onto the sidewalk. The snow had been ploughed into piles along the fringe of the pavement and, as she stepped into the icy sludge, Francine rued not wearing her fur lined snow boots as the watery soup soon soaked through Bobo’s costume clown shoes. Count Gunther the 3rd hailed a cab and upon climbing into the back seat Fru Fru, the Pomeranian lap dog, immediately pissed on the bench seat. The cab driver, demonstrably upset, asked Frida Kahlo to make other travel arrangements.
Title: A JAFFA REVIEWS ‘BARBIE’
COD: As an alternative form of movie review, I decided to write a review of Greta Gerwig’s ‘Barbie’ from the perspective of a jaffa. The result was disappointing, and I discontinued the idea of this becoming a series.
‘I was in a box, inside a handbag for the first 67 minutes so I couldn’t see or even really hear anything. When I finally came out for air, I soon realised that the woman who had bought our packet at the candy bar was quite pissed, and she decided she’d roll the contents down the aisle. However, as the aisles were carpeted it didn’t really have the desired effect and, as she was so inebriated, most of the jaffas just fell back into her bag. I landed on her lap and she ate me soon after. I give Barbie NO stars.’
Title: CAPTAIN COLD FRONT & UMBRELLA BOY
COD: I held high hopes for this potential series of stories about two BOM weather forecasters who doubled as a masked, crusading duo. The story revolved around Jim Hatton, a senior forecaster, who is so angered after having his second vintage MG written off from hail damage, that he develops a sixth sense that allows him to predict where and when a vintage car is at risk of falling victim to storm damage. Over a few beers at the pub after work, his subordinate, Nilak Kelovic, reveals to him that with notice, he can convert his body into a giant weather resistant, plutonium umbrella to protect the luxury cars in extreme weather events. The pair then sorted costumes, set up a base at a disused weather station and prepared to be the world’s first weather vigilantes. However, after months of inactivity, they soon discovered that most owners of such cars, keep their vehicles in secure, weather-proof storage facilities. On the few occasions that they did identify cars at risk, they were unable to protect the cars as it took Nilak up to 48 hours to fully convert to Umbrella Boy, by which time the damage was done. Instead, they pivoted and just got an inventory of owners whose precious cars were exposed to the elements and started ringing them if they perceived that an extreme weather event was likely to impact them. Subsequently, the stories lacked the dynamism to sustain even one story, let alone a series and Captain Cold Front and Umbrella Boy were retired before they’d fired a shot in anger.
Title: THE SPIRITS OF TASMANIA
COD: Essentially the premise of this short story was that the Spirit of Tasmania arrives at its new docking point in Corio after an evening crossing. When the port crew board the ship to start to disembark the cars and passengers, they find that the ship is completely empty. Eventually it’s revealed that in fact the passengers hadn’t disappeared, they just didn’t want to go to Geelong. However, when I floated this story with my early readers, the general opinion was that the City of Great Geelong has gone to great lengths to enhance the liveability and tourism capacity of Geelong, and they expressed their disappointment that I had resorted to such hackneyed tropes.
Title: BOYS WILL BE GIRLS
COD: More early reader intervention here. The story of an all-boy band reforming as an all-girl band after gender transitioning, was seen as a trivialisation of gender politics.
Title: CATERING FOR THE INVASION
COD: A comedy-drama set in the kitchen of a marauding star ship that hovers above the earth on the cusp of destroying the planet, had potential on paper. However, the decision to make the crew have such extreme dietary restrictions, meant that the characters were so caught up in tweaking menus and ensuring against cross contamination, that they simply didn’t have time evolve character sub plots.
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I’d like to take this opportunity to thank those who have supported ‘The Complete Perks of Damian Callinan’ over the last year by subscribing. Every time I see a new subscriber notification land in my inbox it brings a smile to my dial and reminds me that there are readers out there who are keen to read my work. In particular, thank you to those who have upgraded to a paid subscription. Your generosity is greatly appreciated. I allow access to all posts to all subscribers, paid or otherwise and I’d like to keep it that way, but if you can afford a few shillings to upgrade, the author will be able to afford to go on that holiday to this Geelong place, that he’s been hearing such good things about.