The Joy of Spectre

 The Joy of Spectre

Just to offer up fair warning, this blog discusses a scene that appears in my third novel, The Narrative, so if you haven’t read it (and if not, why not? Hmmmm?), spoilers lie ahead.

Have you ever had more fun making something than you feel should strictly speaking be allowed?

For me, that was the creation of Bob the Mysterious Spectre.

There are very few things in my life that I have enjoyed writing so much. In many ways, Bob’s moment of glory was the very essence of what I was trying to do with Fodder’s adventures – an affectionate pastiche of a genre I love without pardoning it for its cliches and absurdities. The all-knowing ghost imparting deep and profound wisdom from beyond the grave is such a longstanding fantasy trope that I couldn’t not play with it – but how to make it work in the way I wanted it to? The answer was easy once the magic ring came into play – by having Fodder be the ghost and poke the requisite fun at the Merry Band for me.

Because why should a ghost lurk around on the edge of reality waiting for the living folks to show up and plumb the depths of his knowledge? The dullness would be extraordinary – who can blame Avikhelion for having a midlife crisis? And why, oh why, do only the great and the good return from the beyond – why not the common, earthy folk? And why, oh why, oh why do virgins always have to be pretty, youthful maidens? Anyone who abstains from certain activities would qualify, regardless of age or gender, so one is forced to suspect the lecherous old goat aspect may part a significant part in the selection process – on both sides of the page

And of course, his name is Bob. Any fan of the UK sitcom Blackadder knows that in the right mouth, this is the funniest name in the universe and that there is only one way it can possibly be pronounced after watching it. A whole generation of British folk will never again be able to simply say the name Bob without indulging in a little Rowen Atkinson impression. Therefore, when looking for a straightforward seeming name for my ghost from beyond, it really was the only choice. Perhaps it’s just me, but the name Bob will always be comedy gold.

So yes – I love Bob. And in an odd sort of way, a part of me remains extremely sad that he and the afterworld he conjured were Fodder’s creation and therefore not real (as it were). But since I suspect Fodder had more fun creating him than I feel should strictly speaking be allowed, I think I’ll let him off…

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