Tag Archives: Perfect Responses

My new novel, Perfect Responses, has a controversial character in it, in the the shape of Corrinne Walker, a self-help author. Corrinne's theories in her book Staying in Neutral, Responses to Change Your Life, form the backbone of the book as three different women are encouraged to deal with significant life challenges by using her advice.

Corrinne believes in straight-talking, and isn't bothered if she offends people along the way to get her message across. I expect you've come across people like this in your life. They might have rubbed you up the wrong way, or perhaps you grudgingly admire them. Either way, they aren't people who often get ignored.

Here's an extract from Corrinne's (fictional) self-help book.

Extract from: Staying in Neutral, Responses to Change Your Life by Corrinne Walker.

You’re late for work because someone has thrown themselves onto the railway line. You feel sympathetic, glad it wasn’t you up there, finding the courage to leap.

But then it happens again, the next day. And the next. They’re like lemmings up there, with their shitty lives, waiting to jump. And always in the rush hour. Never at 10 a.m., or 11 a.m., when it’s just the tourists en route for the London Dungeon, or their free trip up the Cheese Grater to see the view of the Tower of London like a model far below them.

No, they’ve got to make the most possible impact with their final gesture, and they couldn’t care less about your blood pressure, sat there helpless on that train, somewhere between Colchester and bloody Kelvedon.

They couldn’t give a monkey’s that you could lose your job because you’re consistently late. That you’ll no longer be able to afford the au pair, and you’ll have to bake cakes and do voluntary work and pretend to the world you’re happy being an earth-mother-stay-at-home-mum. And all while your husband’s at large in the world with his immaculate suit and Creed aftershave, and never so much as a whiff of baby sick or mustard-bum poo.

He’ll return home after a day of exciting deals and flirtatious banter, expecting a tasty, well-presented meal and willing sex, and it will be as much as you can do to growl something primeval at him before you head for the bath tub in a vain attempt to scrub away your frustration and resentment. You’re so suffused with them both, the bath water fairly fizzes, and much of the steam on the expensive floor to ceiling mirror has come out of your own ears.

And all because of a string of suicides by some selfish, down-on-their-luck losers. The injustice of it all makes you want to scream. Either that, or grab your coat, put it on over your bath-wet body and clomp down to that sodding railway bridge yourself.

Sisters, stop.

We’ve all been there, with that spiral of self-destructiveness. We’ve all blamed others for our misfortunes, and slumped with despair and self-pity. But unless you want to be a martini-quaffing martyr or a hatred-haggled harridan, flailing at the injustice of the world and watching your former friends cross the road to avoid you and your negativity, you need to take action. You need to do something about your reactions to the bad, the irritating, the stressful and the downright disappointing happenings of life. To understand that, if you’re alive, shit happens.

Because this is life we’re living, not some happy-ever-after movie. Your car will break down on your way to the airport for your dream holiday. You’ll be the only one at your Weight Watchers group to put on weight. Your boyfriend will always be busy when you call him. You’ll get gout. You’ll be first in the queue for the Liberty’s sale and a security alert will force you to vacate the area.

Shit. Happens.

Let me tell you, the day I realised that – truly embraced the fact and decided I would no longer let it affect me – was the day I really started living.

When shit happens, we have two choices. We can let shit have power over us and our emotions and responses. But who wants shit to have power over them? Not me. Alternatively, we can keep hold of our power and choose our own reactions. Because all those shitty things that happen to us are events, just as all the good things that happen to us are events.

You find your daughter’s lost hamster alive and well under the fridge. That’s an event. You give an amazing presentation and win your company a lucrative contract. An event. You get the flu and miss a music concert you bought the tickets for a year ago. An event. Your mother dies. An event.

Yes, I know what you’re saying. That missing a pop concert and your mother dying are hardly in the same league. Well, I guess that depends to some extent on the quality of your relationship with your mother.

Only kidding! Of course one outweighs the other. But they are both still events, and I put it to you that we can – and should – choose how we wish to react to events.

Events – and this is very important – are neutral things. Like a closet full of beige clothes. The trouble is, many of us have such chaotic closets – colours all jumbled up, red next to lime green, summer dresses next to winter coats, jeans we’ll never fit into again next to shorts that make us look like geriatric ramblers. And when shit comes calling, we reach into the mess of a closet to snatch up something red or purple or angry orange, and we wrap it closely around us until it feels like a part of our skin. When actually, what we need to do is to stand back, and give ourselves a little space. Keep hold of our dignity and our emotional control. Recognise that shit for what it is. A stinky, unwanted interruption in our lives.

Note from Margaret K Johnson:

I hope you enjoyed the above extract from Corrinne's book! Corrinne has more advice in my upcoming novel Perfect Responses. Here's the blurb:

Three women are about to face the biggest challenges of their lives. Janet has been mistaken for a sex tourist after being abandoned by her fiancé in Africa. Debbie is hell-bent on a hopeless affair with Adam, her married boss. Pregnant Kate has just married the love of her life only for him to turn into a distant stranger overnight.

The three don’t know it, but self-help author Corrinne Walker is depending on them to use her advice to sort themselves out. In fact, her whole future depends on them making perfect responses. But will they be able to do it?

Perfect Responses is coming very soon!

Cheers!

Margaret