My husband and I were at a dinner party a couple of weeks ago, and as I sat there listening to the host pontificating, I realised that our host was the perfect Professor Slughorn from the Harry Potter books. The man is a retired professor from the university my husband works at, and he 'collects' people. Those of us at his dinner party were part of his collection, and I smiled at the parallels with Rowling's characters.
Then last night, we were hosting our own dinner party when, in the middle of the meal, the lights went out. Shocked silence gave way to murmurs of fear. "Stay where you are." I said. "I'll light some candles." Then I nearly laughed, realising we'd been plunged into an Agatha Christie novel, and my 'stay where you are' came right on cue. I almost expected someone to be face down in their dinner when the lights came up again, and wondered if Hercule Poirot would walk through the door.
We writers are forever absorbing the odd characters and occurrences of real life as fodder for our writing. But lately it seems, I've found real life mimicking literary scenes I know. Have you ever found yourself suddenly in the midst of a familiar novel?
Then last night, we were hosting our own dinner party when, in the middle of the meal, the lights went out. Shocked silence gave way to murmurs of fear. "Stay where you are." I said. "I'll light some candles." Then I nearly laughed, realising we'd been plunged into an Agatha Christie novel, and my 'stay where you are' came right on cue. I almost expected someone to be face down in their dinner when the lights came up again, and wondered if Hercule Poirot would walk through the door.
We writers are forever absorbing the odd characters and occurrences of real life as fodder for our writing. But lately it seems, I've found real life mimicking literary scenes I know. Have you ever found yourself suddenly in the midst of a familiar novel?