Problem is I do so much writing that I don't have time to spend on writing fiction. Perhaps I could do what all those celebrities do and get somebody to ghost write it for me (well perhaps not as I'm not famous).
I have wanted to write something about rock music and the dying of the light (or should that be night). I have always been fascinated about how you fix an image of a person in your mind and it's usually a mind image of them when they were young. Then as they get older and mature they look at a photograph of themselves, laugh and say "did I really look like that once" safe in the knowledge that 20 years later they will laugh at another photo and say "did I really look like that once."
Anyway in my novel the main character has lost his or her looks. They are still famous in some circles where they have become cult figures. But in the main they can walk through towns and cities without being recognised. Not recognised because even those who have heard of them have a fixed image of them in their mind as a young person.
I also have this thing about the fragility of fame and by fame I mean it in its broadest sense. I worked with someone once who was near the top of the company tree and knew it. He threw his weight around at work and made sure everyone knew who he was. I think the phrase is "he felt his position." Everyone had to do his bidding.
Once out of the office this person was just another human with no clout. On one occasion he was having some work done at his home but wasn't happy with the work. He used that phrase that no human being should ever use "Do you know who I am?" . This didn't impress the workmen who felt they had done a good job.
"We don't give a f--k who you are, there's nothing wrong with our work" they replied.
And I have always remembered that. It helps you to keep your feet on the ground. This man may have been a king pin in one organisation but once outside the doors of that organisation he was just another nonentity. I have the idea that approximately 10 minutes after you leave something you are already forgotten.