I haven't got a title for my novel yet. The chapters will have titles instead of numbers. Here's the first page -
My life ain't getting any better
There's too much noise.
I look out of my window and I see a bunch of c**ts staring up at me, and that's my life these days. I can't seem to get any peace. But can any of us, these days, in the modern world? Those of us who want peace, that is. I'm not referring to the idiots out there on the streets, yes, the streets of London - it could be anywhere, frankly. No, I'm not referring to those animals who don't understand what it means to be civilized because they're monsters. And please understand: I'm not writing for them. I really hope they don't read this novel of mine. C**ts. Idiots. Animals. Monsters. Ha! No, no, no. I'm writing for you.
My name is ... Does it matter?
Obviously, it doesn't matter. I could be anyone. I could be no one. Call me No One - if you like. I won't be offended. Actually, give me a moment ... call me Michael F. That sounds all right, don't it?
Yeah, yeah.
So, what's this all about then?
My life. My story. Or stories. My experiences. My dreams. My nightmares. I've always said: If I had a dream, I'd be living it. That's what I've told people in the past when they've asked me what I want, what I'm doing, why I'm breathing and taking up so much bloody space.
I'm hanging around for no reason. But ... I'm trying to get a clue. Maybe this book will help me.
Okay. I'm in my fifties. I'm self-employed, and working from home. I'm six foot, I think. I have lovely blue eyes! Now, I don't want to give you too much information of this sort. I mean, I don't want you tracking me down. I don't want you becoming obsessed with me. I don't want you climbing a ladder and peering through my window while I'm trying to have an afternoon nap. Well, a power nap. Not that I have any power.
To tell you the truth, I blacked out after lunch. I don't get much sleep at night. And that's my choice. I don't like sleeping.
What do I like?
Let me tell you: I like living, man ... to the best of my ability, anyway. As much as I am able to. Don't you find that it's hard to live the way you want, without people interfering? Without society, or the government, saying: YOU CAN'T DO THAT!
I wish they would go away, all of them.
...
Should I continue with it? I mean, another two hundred pages. That's a lot of work. I don't know. I just don't know.
Maybe if my demo doesn't take off straight away ...
Oh, c**ts censored for the internet.
