I spent Friday in Telford doing creative writing with a small class of year nine. Some wanted to talk to get inspiration, one girl knew immediately what she wanted to write. She had a way of submerging herself as if the rest of us had vanished that made me tantalised. When she let me look, I saw some impressive writing. She described tears as ‘ not being tears of sadness. She was crying because she was confused. The bewilderment of the predicament she was in was enough to make anyone question existence and the mind of people.’ The main character finds herself in a dream world: ‘ The melancholy tune filled the air once more. Her suspicions grew stronger. Where was she? Why was she here? Whose game was it and why was she the piece they were toying with? She lay down to rest, to let all her fears and feelings flood from her body, like a stream of water falling down a mountain side.’
Jolie says she will one day write a book and I believe she will.