Janey Godley: You might not buy it, but I'm crafting a work of fiction in LA

Published on Sunday 11 January 2009 19:17

AS YOU read this, I am sitting poolside in Los Angeles. I know it sounds awesome and very fabulous, but I am having a working holiday and trying to finish writing my first-ever novel. After having a stressful, hardworking and, to be honest, painfully sick December, I knew I needed some peace and quiet to get my head into gear and where better than sunny America?

The best thing about Los Angeles is the public transport. The buses are simply filled with absolute nutters and I love it. Yesterday, as I sat on a cramped bus into the city, it merely skimmed the mirror of a passing car but stopped immediately. We were all informed that if the bump (what bump?) had damaged any of us we would be given forms to claim insurance. I was astounded. In Glasgow, I often get on the "bus of death", as I call it, over to the South Side and it regularly bangs and bustles about – no apology given or expected – and I applaud the driver when I get off for not hitting anything.

When the driver in LA admitted there had been a "bump", people queued up for their insurance claim form. One man in the aisle screamed loudly and fell on to the floor clutching his collection of silver hubcaps that he kept in a big plastic bag. The metal discs escaped and rattled down the bus aisle and he scampered between people's legs to retrieve them. Turns out he was an engineer, then a sheep farmer and now works as a props man for the film industry. Allegedly. I wasn't sure if I believed him as he was wearing an old jumper as trousers, his skinny brown legs were stuck through the arms of the top and the hollow polo neck hung loosely from his groin, tube-like. Either very hip or extremely odd, depending on how you view fashion. You never know, it could be the next big thing on the catwalk: skinny women wearing their clothes upside down. It is America after all.

I told him I was writing a book, so hubcap man then told me how to end my novel and that he should be a killer who forces silver hubcaps down women's throats. He took me aside and gave me his business card, then started handing them out to every other passenger on the sidewalk (my new American word for the week). According to his card, he also works as a lawyer and specialises in suing big companies and class actions!

You just don't get that standard of bus nutter in the UK. So that's why I love LA.

Please, don't colour me bad

WHILE I am in the US, my living room is being redecorated. The last time it got painted was back in 2001 when I was in New Zealand. Despite strict instructions on the colour, my daughter Ashley ignored them and I came home to bright orange walls and yellow woodwork. It looked like the house of the Tweenies. It was so startling that people walked into my flat and shouted: "Holy Crap!" which is now the official title for that colour scheme.

This time, I spoke to Don the painter myself and picked out the shades I desire. There is no way it can go wrong, unless Ashley fakes my voice on the phone to him and changes the plan. Who knows what awaits me? Purple doors and acid green walls? As long as it doesn't make me have migraines or scream out loud on entry!

Work trip to America results in strengthened trade links

I ARRIVED in the US with a cache of imported goods: ten boxes of Tunnock's Caramel Logs, five boxes of ham stock cubes and lots of PG Tips tea bags for my mate whom I am staying with in LA.

She is a Scot and misses her biscuits and a good cup of tea. The stock cubes must be for making pots of soup, though who makes homemade soup in Los Angeles? Isn't everyone skinny, muscular and obsessed with egg-white omelettes? I am bringing home bundles of West Coast rap clothing for Ashley.

This feels less like a working trip and more of a trading trip.