And now it’s time for The Great British Write Off, presented
as ever by Jim Crace and Salman Rushdie. Over to you, Jim and Sal!
Sal:
Welcome, welcome, welcome to our Writers’ Yurt, for the penultimate round of
this year’s Write Off.
And, with just three of our presumptive pensmiths left in the running, tension
is running high.
Jim: That’s
right, Sal, and understandably so. With a two-book contract and £3,000 advance
to play for, the stakes simply couldn’t be higher.
Sal: Last time
we saw Liam leave the competition, after his ambitious Multi-Generational Family Saga
collapsed in the middle, leaving a soggy mess of plot holes and accidental
incest.
Jim: It was
as painful to watch as to read. After he’d done so well in the Haiku round,
too! But Write Off
is a harsh mistress. To win this competition it’s not enough to give your muse
a few press-ups – this is a full-body work out!
Sal: Ha ha
ha, so very true. So, what challenge awaits the three remaining hopefuls this
time, Jim?
Jim: It’s an
old Write Off favourite: the Young Adult
Dystopia.
Sal: Ah yes.
Some may call it a little old-fashioned, but there’s nothing like a Young Adult
Dystopia when you need a channel for millennial rage! Whether set in the
aftermath of a nuclear war or ecological catastrophe, or on another planet
entirely, there are any number of oppressive and arbitrary regimes out there,
all crying out for a steel toe-capped reboot from a rag-tag band of teenaged
revolutionaries.
Jim:
Writers! You’ve all been provided with a laptop computer, a thesaurus, a cat, a
fully-charged Costa card and a doodling pad. Let the creative juices flow!
* * *
Sal: The
contestants have been hard at it for some time now, but it seems that Louise is
still having trouble assembling her ingredients.
Louise: What
flavour should my heroine be? Feisty, bad-ass, kick-ass, spunky? They’re subtly
different, but I can’t always tell the difference.
Sal: If it
helps, Louise, I don’t think you’re alone in that.
Louise: Perhaps I could go for…
empathetic computer programmer?
Sal: A brave
choice. I’ll be interested to see what the judges make of it. [Winces to
camera.]
Jim: Mandy,
meanwhile, is also having trouble. What’s the problem, Mandy?
Mandy: I
realise that all the young people have to be separated into groups in a public
rite of passage, with the entire course of their future lives resting
on the outcome. Without that it’s not a YA dystopia at all, to my way of
thinking. But I can’t find a basis for sorting them! Would blood type be okay,
do you think?
Jim: Well,
it’s not for me to say…
Mandy [riffling
through her notes]: “In the capital, Haemoglobulos, sixteen-year-old
Platelet Sangweeny is one of the despised O-types, or Universal Donors,
working in the lowliest jobs under the inflexible rule of the elite A+ers...”
Jim: I think
you may have found a unique voice, there, Mandy.
Sal:
Meanwhile, on the other side of the yurt, Gary is taking frequent nips of
liquid inspiration from a hip flask. After shining in the first round with his
Heartwarming Musical about a young man’s love of macramé, set in the
roughtie-toughtie cage-fighting community of Barrow-in-Furness, Gary has
struggled to maintain momentum.
Jim: That’s
right, Sal. Gary wobbled badly in the Legal Thriller round, with a plot that
turned on a little-known sub-clause in the Patents (Compulsory Licensing and
Supplementary Protection Certificates) Regulations, 2007. “I never knew that
boredom and extreme violence could be such intimate bedfellows,” as Mary Berry
put it. This time, though, he has a confident glint in his eye.
Gary: It’s
all about sex, isn’t it? It’s always all about sex, of course. But in
children’s books food has to be used as a substitute, so my climax is going to
be a hot-dog eating competition in which my hero goes up against President
Wurst. Frankfurters at dawn! For the winner, supreme executive power. For the
loser – indigestion, then death.
Jim: I’m not
sure that Gary has quite got the measure of YA Dystopia, Sal, but you know the
result is going to be one of a kind. Personally, I can’t wait.
Sal: Talking
of which... [Looks at watch] Writers,
you have just three months left!
Jim: And at
that thrilling juncture we must leave our writers for the moment. Tune in next
time, to see who is going to make it through to our Grand Final and the chance
to ghost-write a Celebrity Autobiography for last year’s X Factor winner, and who
will be going home with nothing but the taste of failure and this handsome “My
Book was a Write Off” T-shirt.
Jim and Sal:
See you next time! And remember, keep on writing!
Fade to “Paperback Writer” by the Beatles
10 comments:
Very funny! Thanks for making me smile over my bowl of meusli.
My pleasure!
Brilliant! I love the cat as a vital bit of writer equipment!
What a great post! Very funny - thank you for starting the day with a good laugh.
Ooh, yes, this is a great giggle! For me, it's the end of the day, after dinner. The funny thing is, the one about blood types almost sounds like some actual YA dystopias I've encountered.
I can actually see them making this...
What a brilliant lift to the day - great fun and I must add that The Prize fits in just perfect. Thanks, Cathy!
Ha! Loved this. I've always wondered how authors have escaped the reality TV craze. Modern viewers just don't have the attention span, do they? Though I did once take part in something called the "One Day Novel Cup", where we all had to write on laptops sequestered over a weekend in the Groucho Club in London... all it needed was a few cameras and hair/makeup...
That does sound pretty similar, Katherine!
Great stuff!
Post a Comment