One Image, Two Story Ideas: Woman on a Bicycle
Jen and Tina love writing prompts. Sometimes they turn into stories, sometimes they just get our creative juices flowing. Either way, they’re a lot of fun.
Jen’s Idea
I’m a sucker for a no-nonsense women who have left their youth far in the rearview mirror and are in a phase of life where they know who they and what they are all about. Or, at least, they think they do. It wouldn’t be a great story if a character doesn’t change and grow. When I saw this image of a stolid woman on a cycle, I knew I had my detective. And the story just wrote itself.
Tina’s Idea
When I first saw this image I thought, how quaint, how British mystery. I could put a dead body in those bushes and this modern Miss Marple would investigate. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this peaceful setting made me think of someone who is used to not having too much drama, and I wondered how she would react if life threw her a real curve ball - if she wasn’t smartly investigating from the sidelines, but had more skin in the game.
Jen’s Back Cover
To say that I was disappointed to lose my position as secretary to the world’s leading detective would be an understatement. I was furious, humiliated, and more than a little bent on revenge.
My former employer? You know him by another name, but I call him Monsieur Matisse. It means “gift of the gods,” and Monsieur Matisse certainly fancied himself a step above the rest of us mere mortals. He dismissed me on a whim, saying I was too vieille for his office. He does that a lot, using French terms as if the rest of the world were fluent. I know that one, though. It means outdated.
Now, this isn’t a tell-all like you see in some of the cheeky magazines. Nor is it a story of vengeance. It’s the simple tale of how I came to set up my own little detective agency. I wouldn’t presume to say that my services equal those of the great Monsieur Matisse, but I am not too modest to admit that more than one client has made that claim.
I am sure Monsieur Matisse was as surprised as anyone when I solved my first case, clearing the name of a widow and locating missing jewels all in one go. You see, men like the world’s leading detective forget that the women in their employ have access to a great deal of information. We see the private address books, we have typed up the confidential financial records, and perhaps most valuable of all, we have relationships with the other invisible women who make the work of the men around us possible.
Get a plate of biscuits, pour yourself a nice cup of tea, and let me tell you what happened when I stepped out from behind my typewriter and challenged Monsieur Matisse at his own game.
Tina’s Back Cover
Edith Dunsley is an orderly woman who lives an orderly life. She ruffles no one’s feathers and expects no one to ruffle hers, thank you very much. She intentionally lives in a small uneventful town in order to avoid the drama and congestion of big city life where, as she sees it, feather ruffling is something of a pastime. She plays Mahjong every Wednesday night, she gets her hair done every other Tuesday and goes to book club every third Thursday. She sees no need to complicate her life with a car, and cycles wherever she goes. The basket on her bike holds just enough groceries for one, with room leftover for two library books.
In all her many years, her predictability has only been disturbed twice, when she finally won the Mahogany County Bake Off against Mildred Beekman in 1998 and when her husband died of a heart attack last year.
Recently, she expressed to her book club how she sensed a void, how her life seemed to be missing something. They all chimed in to assure her that after forty-two years of marriage these feelings were expected. What Edith hadn’t disclosed was that she had always experienced this void, this sense of unfulfillment. It nagged at her all the time.
One night she receives a call from her best friend Agnes, the head nurse at the General Hospital. Agnes insists she come down right away. Edith is not happy with having her movie disturbed, but she trusts Agnes and leaves immediately, pumping her legs as fast as she can, the curiosity getting the better of her.
Agnes brings her into the room of a coma patient. In the hospital bed is a woman, Edith’s double. She doesn’t just look like Edith, she is her exact replica. The woman is bandaged and bruised, but there is no mistaking it. Eleanor Bainbridge was born July 11, 1948, the same exact day as Edith. Eleanor was racing away from the scene of a murder when she had a head-on collision and was rushed to the hospital.
Is this woman her sister? Is she a murderer? Will she recover or will Edith lose her before she can get her answers? All Edith can do is wait.
Tina’s Response
I simply love this smart sassy protagonist. I am tired of older women not being recognized for the intelligent, capable and resourceful women they are – the women who are the glue for everyone’s success. I would love to partner up with her in this little detective agency and see just how much damage we could do.
Jen’s Response
I love this premise for a thriller! The mysterious doppelganger and a life in need of a change. It’s a perfect combination, and I want Tina to write this story so I can find out what’s behind it all! My mind is spinning as I think through the possible solutions, and I know in Tina’s hands it would be something I haven’t even considered.
Photo by Patti Black on Unsplash