Kia ora koutou, wasps have made themselves at home in one of the pou in my garden. I texted a friend who gave me a number, I texted that number and they were lovely and very helpful, recommended I ring Kapiti Coast District Council. They were very helpful and passed me on to Wellington Regional Council who were very helpful and passed me on to Pest Control who helpfully asked me to leave a message, which I did. Now I’m having a cup of tea and thinking about life and writing and wasps.
I didn’t invite the wasps. One day they just appeared, like the white sails appeared over the horizon when Captain Cook arrived in Turanga-Nui- a- Kiwa and led the way for others who thought we can’t be doing with that name so we’ll change it to Gisborne. A bit like the changes to a novel while you’re writing it.
I want to move the wasps on – like the Catholic church moved priests on when they’d sexually abused children – send them on to another parish and then its not our problem. But obviously they had a system. I don’t. The wasps are a new experience so I’m learning on the job. Just like writing a novel. Every every time.
So far the wasps are keeping to the one corner and no hint of moving on has crossed their minds. The novel is being equally unco-operative. Maybe I should ring KCDC? Do they have a management team who help out stalled writers?
Years ago I experienced a wasp sting, it hurt for days but nowhere near as bad as it is for those poor people for whom a wasp sting is life threatening and they have to be taken to hospital immediately. The pou are near the front fence. Lots of people of all ages go past. Should I put a sign out? Suspense is good for a novel, I remind myself. Maybe its good for me.
I’ve written a few novels so why do I have to go back to the beginning every time? Surely I should be like a joiner or woodworker. They know what to do. A table is a table, after all. A shelf is a shelf. Order the wood, whatever else you need, get cracking.
Do wasps move on of their own accord? Must look it up. Do they ask the old existentialist question, ‘Why am I here?’ Whether they do or not, I’m asking why my corner, why me? Followed by the bleat, ‘Why am I writing this novel?’ To which there is no answer. Not from the wasps’ corner anyway.
I expect its good for me to have something else to think about other than a novel that won’t go right. I know it will eventually. They always do but somehow its always this feeling of stab and thrust, a guessing game, a movement in the darkness, maybe irritation, at rare times – elation when I get something just right.
I had one of those elation moments this morning. Which goes to show that even wasps have no control over all of life, only bits of it. And they will move on, or be moved on.
And so will the novel.
