Time’s Killing Me

“What’s that? You were stuck in a backcountry hut for three days with a crazy Danish guy?”

It’s not very often that an idea for a horror story, magazine article and blog post all arrive at once, but hearing the cabin fever-inducing experience of a couple who recently walked the New Zealand Te Araroa track sparked a few light bulbs.

I can appreciate the romantic aspect of walking for weeks on end through stunning scenery with only your thoughts for company. Although it can be a useful opportunity to sort out some life-admin, set a few life-goals, and mentally occupy yourself with other life-based chores, there is the other end of the spectrum.

Being social.

As I’m sure we can all agree – people ruin everything.

So when you’re forced into several days of unwanted social interaction as you wait for the weather to clear, I can understand how people may get a little testy. I hate having to make elevator conversation for all of 20 seconds, so three days’ worth of it would be precisely 12,960 times worse.

It lends itself quite nicely to a horror story. A claustrophobic whodunit involving several people trapped in a small, backcountry hut. I can see one inherent problem though – how do you make what is essentially a boring, tedious experience exciting to read?

It’s going to be difficult to crowbar in a car chase or zombies to spice things up a bit while you kill time waiting until someone goes mad and feels the need to throttle the Danish guy.

Ah – Killing Time. That’s the title sorted.

I don’t know what all the fuss is about with selecting a captivating book title – these things just write themselves.

There’s even a pre-arranged soundtrack to accompany it:


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