Cleo Howard

I love books which are written in a diary format. Sue Townsend’s Adrian Mole is one of my all time favourite literary characters. Without him, my character Cleo Howard would not exist.

Cleo Howard is a heavy metal loving teenager. I left her in the year Y2K, at Coventry University. I will eventually write The Still Not Grown Out Of It Metal Diary Of Cleo Howard. This lives in my head in an unwieldy fashion as TSNGOOIDOCH, and if any literary agents out there think they can represent the Cleo Howard diaries, let me know! I think the time could be right, there’s a lot of late 90s/Y2K nostalgia around at the moment.

I have also written fiction about Pam Dickens, she lives in Oxford (not the posh bit with more books set in it, the slightly more affordable bit). Pam is at retirement age and loves Christmas. I am about to write the fictional diary of her daughter Nicola Dickens.

To start any fictional diary you need to decide what time period it will cover.

Nicola Dickens Uses Christmas To Hold Herself Together will cover the period of 1^st July 2024 to 30^th June 2025.

The Still Not Grown Out Of It Metal Diary Of Cleo Howard (TSNGOOIDOCH) begins on 23rd July 2025, the day after Ozzy Osbourne’s death and continues for one year, until 22nd July 2026.

Usually when I begin writing a fictional diary I take my actual diary and strip out all text except the dates and use this as my starting point. Sometimes people say to me “I’ve read your diary” and my face does a shocked expression and then I realise they mean Cleo Howard’s or Pam Dickens’ diary. My actual diaries are never to be published, even posthumously, not for any legal reasons, simply because they are too real lifey and no-one is interested in my top three fave risottos or when I get a new jumper). If you like reading about real lifey things, I can recommend the Mass Observation Archive who I would love to visit one day.

So, we have AI now and instead of preparing a list of dates myself I could ask ChatGPT and Microsoft Copilot to do this. I’d be interested to know if anyone thinks this is cheating.

I’ll create the dates for Nicola Dickens Uses Christmas To Hold Herself Together (1^st July 2024 to 30^th June 2025). These dates have already happened so I think it should be easy for my AI chums. Also dates are used in so many contexts that surely this must be simple for AI? I will specify the format I want the dates in, so I will ask AI to list all the dates from Monday 1^st July 2024 to Monday 30^th June 2025.

This looks good but notice at the start ChatGPT said that February 2025 has 29 days “Got it — you’d like a full list of every date, day by day, from Monday 1st July 2024 through to Monday 30th June 2025. That’s exactly 366 days (since 2024 is a leap year, so February 2025 has 29 days).” It seems that ChatGPT doesn’t understand leap years. However, the list of dates it has given me doesn’t have a 29th February 2025 so it knows on some level this date doesn’t exist.

Let’s see how Microsoft Copilot does the same task of list all the dates from Monday 1^st July 2024 to Monday 30^th June 2025.

This isn’t what I wanted. Obviously I need to rephrase what I’m asking. This was an interesting experiment and both ChatGPT and Microsoft Copilot clearly state they can make mistakes. I’ll stop here and give you a couple of extracts from my actual diary entry for 29th February 2024, this will have you agreeing with my earlier decision that it’s too real lifey;

Send orange bra back to M&S for a refund. Done at lunch time.

Have Christmas pudding for afternoon snack? What with? Custard or ice cream or cherry pie filling? Had it with custard.

I have eaten an average of 2.79 portions of fruit and veg each day in February.

For my fifth go at ChatGPT I will try to create a diary entry for Cleo Howard on 1st January 1998 based on her 1997 diary which I will provide the text of.

I can’t add the large text (55,162 words) as a message but I can attach a file.

ChatGPT: Great, thanks for sharing the diary! Based on Cleo Howard’s detailed entries from 1997, here’s a New Year’s diary entry for her on 1st January 1998 that stays true to her tone, voice, and interests:

Thursday 1st January 1998

Happy New Year, Diary!

Woke up with glitter in my hair and a headache that felt like it was playing Megadeth on repeat. That’s what Malibu, cider and trying to headbang to Pantera in a living room full of fairy lights will do to you. We celebrated New Year’s Eve at Jenni’s. Her parents were being cool and even Pam had a glass of red wine (organic, obviously). Me, Jenni, Ian and Shot stayed up to watch the fireworks on telly and shout “1998!” like it was going to make the world better. It didn’t, but it was loud and that’s what matters.

Everyone made toasts. Mine was to passing GCSEs and seeing a band with actual guitars before the year ends. Ian toasted to growing his hair longer than Kirk Hammett’s (I give it a month before he trims it because it’s in his eyes). Jenni toasted to more eyeliner and less Ella.

Danni kissed three people at midnight, including Ian, but I don’t think Sally needs to know that. Barry didn’t come last night—he had to stay in with his mum who had “a migraine” (aka didn’t want to be alone). He called me just after midnight and said he wished he could’ve kissed me when the fireworks went off. I told him to imagine that I did, and then we both went quiet because it was almost romantic.

Mum got up at 9am, hoovered the stairs and said “New year, new start” like it was a threat. She says we’ve got to eat healthy now, so she made lentil soup and I pretended to like it. I’m craving cheese on toast and chocolate digestives.

I’ve made some resolutions:

Don’t fail any subjects, especially not English (Miss Wallace would give me that disappointed face).
See a band live—any band. Preferably not one that has a keytar.
Learn how to play at least one whole song on bass.
Stop wasting time wondering if Barry likes me as much as I like him (he does, probably).
Keep writing everything down. You never know when your life will get interesting.

Also, I saw on Ceefax that the top single right now is that Teletubbies one. 1998 has a lot to make up for.

Right, off to write “Cleo was here 1998” on the back of my wardrobe and then maybe eat the last bit of Christmas cake before Mum throws it out for being “dangerously past its best-before.”

Rock on, future me.
—Cleo 🤘

My comments: This is quite good but “Ian toasted to growing his hair longer than Kirk Hammett’s (I give it a month before he trims it because it’s in his eyes).” is not accurate. Ian would not be taking hair inspo from Kirk Hammett and he would not be trimming his hair for being in his eyes. Cleo’s mum would never make lentil soup, it’s too effortful and middle-class for her character. Cleo wouldn’t know what a keytar is. They are not a heavy metal instrument. Also, Christmas cake would not be thrown out on January 1st for being out of date, that stuff lasts ages.

ChatGPT: Would you like a few more entries for January 1998 to continue the tone and narrative?

Friday 2nd January 1998

Went into town with Jenni. Reading was full of people dragging children around and pretending not to be hungover. We went to HMV and I spent the last of my Christmas money on a Metallica badge and a copy of Kerrang! with Marilyn Manson on the cover looking like a haunted stick insect.

Jenni bought a Sisters of Mercy patch for her coat. She says she’s going to start sewing band patches on like armour. I might do the same, except I can’t sew in a straight line and last time I tried, I pricked my finger and got blood on my Danzig T-shirt. Very metal, but Mum wasn’t impressed.

Saw Barry for a bit—he looked tired but still hot in that way where his hair’s a bit messy and he smells faintly of Lynx Africa and chocolate. We snogged in the alley behind the arcade and someone walked past and coughed “get a room”. If I had a room, I would.

Mum has decided we need to clear out the “junk drawer” in the kitchen. I found a cassette single of 2 Unlimited’s “No Limit” in there. Dark times.

Saturday 3rd January 1998

Went round Ian’s. We made resolutions for WhyY2K, even though they don’t technically exist yet.

Ian’s band resolutions:

Get a gig somewhere that isn’t a garage.
Write a song that makes someone spontaneously headbang.
Not let Ella sing, even as a joke.

We made toast and watched Beavis and Butt-Head Do America on video. Ian reckons I laugh like Beavis when I’m hyper. Rude. We also played The Adverts Game and I beat him for once! My proudest moment was guessing “Woolworths” from a shot of a child putting glitter in a trolley.

Sally called twice while I was there. Ian rolled his eyes both times. He’s got a look he does now—equal parts affection and mild despair.

Sunday 4th January 1998

Spent most of the day avoiding tidying my room. Mum said if I don’t clear up the pile of socks and CDs by the wardrobe, she’s going to chuck them out. I told her that pile is my filing system.

Watched The Royle Family with Barry. Jim said “you can’t polish a turd” and Barry laughed so hard he snorted Pepsi. It’s weird watching a show that feels more like real life than real life.

Found the diary I kept in 1996. I used to sign off every entry with “Stay cool, Cleo” and now I want to crawl into a bin and never return. At least I don’t do that anymore.

Monday 5th January 1998

Back to school tomorrow. Kill me.

Everyone says Year 11 is the most important year of your life, but they said that about Year 10 too, so I’m starting to think adults just enjoy saying that. Jenni says if they say it again next year she’s going to scream.

Rearranged the badges on my school bag. Ramones, Type O Negative, L7. I want to look like I’m too cool to care while still very obviously caring.

Barry says he might get his eyebrow pierced. I told him if he does, I’ll get my nose done. I probably won’t. But I like the idea of us both being slightly more metal.

I wish I could stay up all night and sleep all day like I did in the holidays. Instead, I’m off to bed before eleven like some sort of respectable human. Gross.

ChatGPT: Would you like more entries covering the rest of January 1998? I can keep Cleo’s tone consistent and develop her thoughts and relationships with Barry, Ian, Jenni, and school stuff further.

No thanks ChatGPT. I’m a bit spooked by your entries. In parts they feel like things I wrote and forgot about and in part the detail is wrong and I know I didn’t write them. I also don’t like the insinuation that Cleo may have bought a 2 Unlimited cassingle in the past. I can assure you she wouldn’t waste her precious money. She also wouldn’t get a piercing because Barry did. One more thing though…

It’s an okay cover, a bit generic perhaps. I haven’t heard Crimson Thorn before, but their song Sarcastic Deviation over on YouTube is decent. Death Flame don’t seem to exist and nor do Dark Conquest. I decided to find out a little more about ChatGPT’s musical tastes…