Fairies (Not Pink)

This time last week I woke up with the overwhelming urge to turn an old screenplay of mine into a novel. The script is called The Fortune, and came close a few years ago to getting produced. It's about a property developer who falls in love with a fairy.... with disastrous consequences. I've always been able to see this story very cleary - the bright neon of London vs. the twilight of the countryside - plus it's also a very tight plot (featuring magic, madness, murder and ritual masturbation, no less). That, and conversations with my sister, who has had some amazing insights into what the story is actually about, has convinced me that I may need to divert my alchemical intentions and get on with The Fortune for the time being. Given that the script is 20,000 words long, I've already got a third/quarter already written, plus I think it would work well as a fantasty novel - hence eminently marketable. And, of course, there's the famous wanking-in-the-woods scene... (Not based on the author's own experience, I hasten to add, actually being inspired from something I read in Barbara G. Walker's Woman's Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets. Or possibly it's sequel, I forget.)