You're standing at a bus stop on Linden Road. An elderly couple are craning their necks to see past the curve in the road. Is it coming? Where is it? It's late, you know. Should have been here two minutes ago. The road just prior to a bus stop is loaded with uncertainly. In the next few seconds a bus might arrive, or it might not, and you have no way of knowing when you'll have to leap up and wave you arm. So you watch, eagle eyed for something, anything that resembles a huge brightly lit hulk of metal on wheels. A lorry tricks you for a moment with its low rumble and you step forward an inch. The oldsters are getting restless. The woman has moved from the shelter to the edge of the road, positioning herself to board the bus that isn't here. A young woman arrives at the shelter and stands between you and the couple. Will she try and board before you or will the honour of queuing be upheld? It doesn't matter. She's not the type to sit upstairs. Too clean. Too nice. She'll be down with the pensioners and the mothers. Still you stare at the road. Take your eyes off it for a moment and the bus might pass you by. It's happened before, that momentary lapse in concentration, and you're determined it won't happen again.
Suddenly the bus appears, gliding like a whale around the corner. Everyone stares at the cab and signals with their arms, willing the driver to stop as if he might not have noticed people standing at a bus stop where only his service calls. The indicators flash and the door swings open. A man gets off so our frantic watching and waving wasn't necessary after all, but it's best to be safe. The couple flash their passes, the woman pays (yes, she got on before you) and you slot your pound coin and twenty pence into the slot, smiling at the driver and murmuring a "Cheers" because you're nice like that and you know the kind of people he has to deal with. He ignores you, checks the money and presses the button. The ticket machine whirrs and spits out a strip of paper which you take. Up the stairs you go to the front seats where the TV screen showing cheap adverts and, inexplicably, extreme sports can be avoided. You unzip your coat, take off your hat, plug in your walkman, stick your feet up by the window and take out your book. In an hour you'll be in Perry Bar. It's going to be a long hour.
Like pretty much anything, the major stumbling block for the Outer Circle Book project is knowing how to actually start the damn thing. Having talked to my local history contacts (Hi Andy! Hi Marv!) it's certainly viable, interesting and potentially important but where to begin?
(This post is more to structure my thoughts than ask for advice, but comments are still very welcome.)
The main issue seems to be that I don't know what I'm going to have at the end of this. This is also the main driving force for doing the project - to see if something interesting can be revealed from an utterly tedious and soul-rotting bus journey. Looking at the map and staring out of the top deck window it doesn't look at all hopeful with long stretches of suburbia punctuated by bits that might only be interesting because of the drab context. And I don't want to just concentrate on the obvious stuff like the Cadbury Factory or Sarehole Mill. Neither do I want to be stuck on the main commercial centres and high streets. Yes, these sorts of things will come into it but it seems like a cop out. I'd rather investigate that nondescript looking house that happens to have a fascinating history. But there are thousands of non-descript houses. How do I find them? And so on...
Something in my character tells me that, when faced with something as daunting as this, the best thing to do is start at the beginning and work through it one step at a time. In this case that would involve visiting and recording every building and landmark on the route like some kind of doomsday book. This in itself would be an interesting thing to do and would give me a solid foundation of what's actually there to work on, but it's also an absurdly large task. We're talking 25-27 miles (estimates vary) and I have no idea how many houses that involves, let along other things like interesting letterboxes and signposts. Can I do this in 6 months? Is it worth spending 6 months doing this? Is doing this really some kind of displacement activity when I should be in the library finding out the really interesting stuff instead of robotically cataloguing a load of suburban metadata?
I think it is worth doing if only because I'll really get to know the route and will spend time looking at the details. And I think I need to have a good level of familiarity with the route in order to write about it. As I've said, the maps aren't much use for putting things into context because very little is shown on them and I brisk walk down the streets isn't going to tell me much more. When I do come to research the history of these places I'll need to be able to visualise exactly what I'm reading about or at least be able to pull up my notes and photos, especially as there doesn't seem to be a comprehensive contemporary account of the route. (Yet!)
So I'm thinking this is my starting point. Lots of legwork and information sorting (in blog form, naturally). That way patterns can start to emerge and my research can have a little more focus.
I've been thinking about my big project for this year and it's reached the point where I need to get it down before it morphs into something even more stupid and unattainable. So here it is.
I'm going to write a book.
Now, that doesn't mean I'm actually going to publish a book - just that the "book" model seems like the best structure to work with. Chapters, a vague narrative structure, a fair amount of depth, that sort of thing. And if at the end of it someone wants to turn it into a proper book then that'll be a nice bonus.
The book is going to be a travel guide to the Birmingham Outer Circle bus route, which is why it has to be a book because anything smaller will just be interminably dull. The basic format I'm planning on is as follows:
- Travelogue: accounts of visiting sections of the route from a personal perspective. Think Iain Sinclair, but only a little bit. They key here is "personal".
- Photographs: looking more at the quirky details than grand panoramas (partly because there's not much grand on the route).
- History: this is where it turns into something bigger. I intend to research each section of the route and discover how these areas came to be. This will involve going to the central library and diving headlong into the murky world of local history, but I know a couple of people who already swim there so at the very least I'll have a guide.
- Maps: Every good travel book has maps but I'll be looking at interesting ways of using them. An obvious thing will be to GeoTag the photos so they can be mapped around the route. It'd be interesting to do that with the words as well, not just have them reference a map but have that work the other way. There's also the fact that the route is circular without a beginning or end so maybe he book should be too. That kind of stuff (most of which isn't really book-like, but whatever.)
The plan to actually achieve this is fairly simple. The route will be dictated by where the Number 11 bus goes. I'll chop this up into 20 or so manageable sections (the route is 27 miles long) basing each one around a specific landmark, such as Bearwood High Street or Winson Green Prison. I'll then spend a day at each section taking photos and notes, followed by research, followed by a return visit. I'll then write a draft chapter for the blog, fully expecting feedback to fill it out. Then when it's all over I'll do a few trips around the entire route to give it some continuity and structure and edit it all into a "book".
After that, who the hell knows. Maybe it'll get published and I'll be able to retire on the earnings. Maybe I'll just move to onto something else. Whatever happens, it should keep me nice and busy for the next 10 months, and that's the important thing. I've been faffing around too much recently and need some kind of long term thing.
I'll be looking to start this sometime in March when the weather improves and have all the field work done before October when the weather gets shit again.
Wish me luck...
Full credit for the seeds of this project must go to Diamond Geezer, without whom, etc.
