Oscar's Island Pt. 3., Divine Comedy.

'What's with the swivel gun?' I ask one evening as we are watching the sun set over the Caribbean.
'Found it in the lagoon,' says Oscar,' thought it might come in handy.

Cleaned it up. Not sure if it works.'
'Got any gunpowder? We could take potshots at the flamingos.'
Just kidding of course. I love birds.

More harmless banter ensues. We get chatting about the old days in LA and Manila.
 
‘Whatever happened to ChuckWoww?’
 
‘Funny you should ask Oscar. I ran into him in Thailand. He was working at the US Embassy.

CIA I think. Came in my bar in Pattaya from time to time. He wrote a book called ‘Losing the Plot’.’
 
‘What about your pal Simon?’
 
‘He’s in London. Got his own TV show. Still dabbling in real estate which he finds quite lucrative.’
 
‘Who writes this stuff anyway Dick? Not ChuckWoww is it?’
 
‘Wish I knew. Whoever he/she is seems to enjoy stringing words together.

It started out as something called Brighton Line. Now it's you and me sitting here getting drunk.

I assume there’s some underlying meaning. Or perhaps it’s not for me to know and all will be

revealed at some point.’
 
Oscar appears interested so I continue.
 
‘I’m just the narrator. Which means they send me files in random order.

It’s my tone they want I think. I put my stamp on them and send them back.

Someone else can sort them out. It must have been a bit like that for William Burroughs in Tangiers.

 Pages of stuff all over the place. Nothing making sense.

The answer? Stick it all in the post and let the editor sort it out.

(That was Allen Ginsberg in Burroughs case). My editor lives in a modernized farmhouse in Tuscany.
 
From time to time I get emails from budding young narrators asking me how I do it.

How do you manage to sound so natural Dick they ask? Well there’s no trick to it really.

I just narrate like I talk. Course that doesn’t always mean I know what I’m talking about but

if I get the tone right nobody minds too much.’
  
Oscar has fallen asleep.