I Told The Teacher “I Want To Be A James Bond villain”
Everyone went through the exact same thing when they were seven years old or around that age.
Children were interrogated by chirpy teachers on their future employment ever keen to advise as to what was viable and what wasn’t. Back then, nobody had a sense of what constituted as a sensible career option. Who did? Most children were concerned with home many crayons could be tossed around the room or what a tree actually tastes like. Long term plans were not something that fell into the mindset. So we answered the question as best as we could.
For me I can still recall the conversation. Around the class children chirped with what they considered would be an exciting, vibrant lifestyle;
Policeman. The obvious choice for those after excitement. Fireman too, as well as fighter pilot. The occasional solider. Nurse or Doctor was normally added by the girls of the class, no doubt appealing to the gentle nature of the fairer sex.
And then you had me.
I puffed out my chest and said, rather boldly “I want to be a James Bond villain”.
You can visualise the double take I received.
That’s right. A James Bond villain. My desire was to be one of those glorious bad guys immortalised on the silver screen, and I presumed this was a viable career choice. I hungered for the grandeur of it all. I wished for my schemes to be nefarious and my plans, diabolical. It may seem amusing to read over now but I wished as hard as possible for a Tomy Gloating Chamber or Mattel Death Ray.
Ah, the Tomy Gloating Chamber. I can envision the commercial now. Panoramic bulletproof glass for gazing at your evil lair. Obligatory British spy trap that is overly complex. A wall of video screens connected to world leaders, to which I could bark demands and assure them that I’m not bluffing. Too bad that the product only existed in my head but never the less, I wanted the henchmen, the needlessly complex base escaping the eyes of Interpol, even the Russian agent with a double entendre name. I craved the entire package.
At the age of 30 I cannot help but think that in today’s economic climate it would have been better than the backup plan.
You see at equally at this age, I wrote tales of my megalomaniac adventures. Whenever I had the opportunity I would write and draw the proceeds so that when the plan of world domination came to fruition the true story of my rise to dominance would be catalogued. It would be something for the citizens to enjoy while they’re slaving down the mines for precious gems or welding material for the weather machine.
The backup plan was to be an author. I had developed a taste for writing, coupled with the imagined that spawned without even realising it and this lasted far into my teenage years. Disillusioned that the world was still free and had escaped my iron grip, I was unable to find anything suitable for my writing desire apart from a serialised romantic tale. I stumbled into an education black hole which most call IT, not as glamorous as being an author but it was something to do. The desire for writing still remained and I continued to scrawl away ideas, concepts, anything at all that filled my thoughts. In my early 20’s I took stock of my life, allowing my current career to take precedent. I had no time to dream of what could be when real life dominated my attention.
Hindsight is wonderful ability and for those who are blessed with it, and may they use it at every opportunity, but I lack such a gift and it shows. If I was sensible I would have looked around at what I had and assessed it to be a waste of effort. I should have acted appropriately but aren’t we all blinded by the notion that we can change the world? Only years later did I realise how futile that was and stopped attempting to rectify the gross mistakes of others who selfishly pushed the onus onto me.
So I moved to Gloucester. I moved to claim back the life I had been robbed of, settling down and finding serenity once again. I am blessed to find it with my best friend who not only shares my heart but also the passion for writing. When I look at her, not only do I think of the future we shall share but the past we have fought through – that the insurmountable odds against us were beaten and will be continue to be beat.
Together the concept of the Fusion series was developed, a series of books detailing the illustrious Lady Mana and her sour-faced protector, Dark Pariah. We wrote together, primarily an alien notion but one that quickened pace. We threw together wild notions, dynamic characters in a casserole of concepts. This then exploded from a couple of meek ideas into an all consuming fictional beast. I had once again found my love for the written word, lost since the days of adolescence and swore I would never repress it again.
So I wrote. I wrote more passionately then I have ever done so before. When I was between jobs I wrote. When I was working and the weekend came, I wrote for most of the time, finally hitting the bed in the small hours until Fusion was completed. I was driven. I wasa man possessed.
Remember the old saying: “we do these things not because we are permitted, but because we are compelled”.
Whilst the plan of enslaving the population may have fallen by the wayside (for now), I write because I am compelled – because I want to, because I need to, so that some bizarre pressure valve transfixed to the base of my skull can be turned. Sure it may come into conflict with other sensible duties such as work but that is all part of the process.
Do not dismiss this as a dream of ours, we do not dream of being writers because the very nature of dreams is fleeting and prone to a sudden end. Ours is an ambition, a driving force to an eventual goal.
And we will attain that goal no matter what.
Roll on whatever 2011 brings.