Mad About the Boy (Bridget Jones 3)

12.15 p.m. Texted Talitha.

Talitha texted back.

12.30 p.m. Another text from Talitha.

Oh God. Talitha’s hair extensions! Can you nit-comb hair extensions?

Just had another text from Jude.

4.15 p.m. Shit! Shit! There is bang,

clatter and voices of everyone coming home.

5 p.m. Mabel burst in, holding out a letter. She sat down on the sofa and sobbed, big tears dribbling down her cheeks.

To all Infants Branch Parents

A child in Briar Rose . . .

Why do all the class names in Infants sound like the sort of Cotswold holiday cottages I keep googling instead of writing The Leaves in His Hair?

. . . has been found to be infested with head lice. Please obtain

suitable nit comb and products and check your children carefully before bringing them to school.

‘Ith me,’ sobbed Mabel. ‘I’s infestered Briar Rose with headlies. I’m “a child in Briar Rose”.’

‘It isn’t you,’ I said, hugging her and probably reinfestering her, or vice versa, with headlies. ‘Cosmata has head lice. And we didn’t find any on you. Maybe they just put “a child” when they meant lots of people.’

Wednesday 24 April 2013

175 lb (feels like again), pieces of Nicorette chewed 29 (NB of smoking substitute, not Class Mother), Diet Cokes 4, Red Bulls 5 (terrible, am practically on ceiling), packets of grated cheese 2, slices of rye bread 8, calories 4897, sleep 0, pages written 12. Humph.

12.30 p.m. Right. There is absolutely no need to panic. If a story is sound, and has themes relevant to modern life, then the actual setting ought to be immaterial.

1 p.m. Whole thing about Hedda and the boring husband going on a honeymoon not on a yacht and then coming back and living on a yacht seems completely nonsensical.

1.15 p.m. Wish head would stop itching.

1.20 p.m. Maybe they could have been on a road trip in the American West? Yes, surely as a car would be a nice change from a yacht?

4.30 p.m. Think will call Brian the Agent and talk it through with him. I mean, that’s what you do with agents, right?

5 p.m. Explained the whole thing to Brian the Agent, while maniacally scratching head.

‘So here’s the thing,’ said Brian. ‘Apparently, Greenlight hired a yacht in Hawaii for the Puff the Magic Dragon stoner movie, and now the stoner movie has fallen over, so they need another vehicle for a Hawaiian yacht.’

‘Oh,’ I said, crestfallen. I mean, I thought the reason Greenlight so loved The Leaves in His Hair was . . .

‘So what do we do?’ Brian said cheerfully. ‘We make Hedda Gabbler work on a Hawaiian yacht, right?’

‘Right,’ I said, nodding emphatically, even though Brian could not see emphatic nodding, infestering surrounding area with nits, as was on phone. Which was fortunate as otherwise would have also infestered Brian Katzenberg.

Thursday 25 April 2013

5 a.m. In bed writing crazily. Surrounded by revolting mess of Nicorette packets, coffee cups, pages of script all over floor, Diet Coke, Red Bull cans, etc., etc. Feel completely disgusting. Stomach is just huge bulge of grated cheese, rye bread, Diet Coke and Red Bull, and head is constantly itching. And still have not finished any coherent pages and is all spelt wrong and spacing mad, etc, etc. Also cannot even text Roxster to cheer self up because he is asleep.

10 a.m. Somehow spurred on by adrenalin rush of deadline, finished ‘pages’ and have emailed them off, even throwing in an extra, admittedly idiotic, scene I did in about twenty minutes flat, of Hedda throwing herself off the boat at the end, then Lovegood her alcoholic ex-lover doing the same and them both appearing putting on scuba gear at the bottom of the ocean like in For Your Eyes Only. But still, will give pleasing sense of more pages having been written.