It’s a helicopter.

Obvious isn’t it? My cherry red XK8 and its recent misbehaving antics in the sky; It’s a helicopter.

A helicopter – as in eighties style management techniques training – as in get up in the helicopter and detach yourself from the problem then look down and analyse what you see – Durrrrr how dumb am I?

Why didn’t you tell me? OK, hey ho, I’ll get over it.

Big thanks go to my wonderful friend Anita who was the one to point it out to me, albeit inadvertently. She referred to my helicopter analogy with regard to something completely different – my real life – and that was when the penny dropped.

Armed with the knowledge guess what happened when I next visited the Writer’s World?

Yep. The colour was almost back to normal and the jaguar on the bonnet was in its normal forward facing proud stance.

It took a few visits to get the hang of it but I am pleased and proud to report that both XK8 styled helicar (new word invented for my hybrid XK8 helicopter) and I are now in tune with each other and understand the controls.

Wow, first time was an experience, I just couldn’t resist trying to use the manual controls. A few nose dives towards the Sea of Despair and a hair-raising (literally) loop-de-loop later and I started to get the picture. I cannot influence the ride. I need to let the jaguar figurine pilot the helicar. I need to see the Writers World from up here and look down objectively. I suppose once I have learned the lessons from this exercise the helicar will revert to a more normal service, not sure, but I hope so.

Isn’t it incredible? We invent the damned images and characters and then they take off (again literally in this instance) of their own free will. Is there no respect for the author these days?

After a couple of exploratory trips the XK8 was back to normal on arrival at its parking bay, gleaming, shiny and with the walnut veneer and leather interior smelling that heady, warm, dark, manly scent that is so comfortable. I got behind the wheel and let her go.

This time we cruised over the whole of the Writer’s world at 20,000 feet and I was surprised at the make-up of the world. The Sea of Despair is at the centre and its ebbs and flows relentless lick at the terrain threateningly. In places it has swallowed up the sandy coastline and is biting at the ankles of the Publishers Pathway almost touching the wheels of the cars in the fast lane. I hadn’t understood that the Sea was actually the hub around which all the paths, forests and places were placed.

We stayed up high and I guess I was getting an overview, no detail just the topography. The colours were amazing even from this height, the forests looked magical with dark blue trees, pink banana shaped fruits and red grass. The paths leading away from the Publisher Pathway are yellow and clear, some meander aimlessly and others are straight and as direct as the proverbial arrow. It’s an eye-opener.

There is a dark forest in the northernmost corner of my circular world; yes I know circles don’t have corners, but hey this is my world and sometimes I don’t write the rules, OK? The dark forest is the deepest and shiniest navy blue I have ever seen, the trees branches are full of deep crimson leaves and they join together to form a roof-like structure hiding the ground below. I cannot see what lies in there and I don’t want to.


But I know the contents and I fear I must one day enter. But not this visit – this has been my get up in the helicopter and detach yourself from the problem then look down and analyse what you see – visit.

I don’t know how much of what I learn I will share with you. We will see.

Adios amigos.






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