9 March 2020
Monday. I have read the word copycat four times today and broken two pencils.
Yes, the story says the city whispered about a copycat. Yes, the Butcher borrows a little flair from the famous cannibals of the cinema, the ones with the good posture and the classical music. But every artist borrows. Did anyone call the second violinist a copycat? I suspect they did not.
What the whisperers fail to appreciate is that the only villain I have ever copied is myself, and I had not even been invented properly yet. I was workshopping. The apron was a rehearsal for the hat.
I have drafted a letter to the editor. I have also drafted a letter to the gamesmasters, asking them to stop describing my dinner parties as “a bit of fun”. A bit of fun! There are place cards.
Resolved: next time, something entirely original. Something with a lid.
— U.


