What can I Write a Book aboutAbout what can I write a book?
Every idiot can write a book. Nell Stevens.
You are looking for unreleased authors who have written a novel. Every wk a novelist is deselected and sent home. Name of the show is Any Idiot Can Write a Book. I' ve just ended my annual novel Gap: a tormented romantic about a young lady in northern India falling in romance with a young transvestite.
Instead, I write a summary of a book in which nothing happens against the background of the glittering Himalayas and mail it to the folks behind Any Idiot Can Write a Book. When I suspected that the assumption behind Any Idiot Can Write a Book was wrong before I got there, it will be validated as soon as we begin shooting the show - which isn't actually a show at all, but a prototype that can be or can' be created and that we will be shooting in the course of a whole full working days.
Apart from me, there is only one other participant: a thin Liverpudlian named Jake, who has a shaky serpent tattoos in the form of a loop around his throat. We' re taking Jake and I to a big office shed. "Jake asks, "What do you typed?" Jake asks.
Well, what do you focus on then? Jake answers. As Jake looks at his keypad, he starts to hit it with his index fingers. What is most important about the show is immediately apparent: There is nothing at all interesting about watching it. What is it" asks a young woman with a mike.
I' m concerned about my novel,' I try. "What is it? " says the little lady. After lunch I am reading the opening part of my novel in a studio; my vocal plays over film material from my drama-tapping. Afterwards, I am sitting on a bank under an Umbrella and answer the question of how much I want to become a novelist (very much) and what it would mean for me to get into the next round of Any Idiot Can Write a Book (the longer the days, the less).
We are filming the judgement and knockout scenes just as it gets darkness. We are sitting at the counter opposite the critics, with our books in front of us. For the first meeting of the two lovebirds I was reading a book in Dharamsala sanctuary, encircled by flashing candle lights and straying cats.
Suddenly I look up at the movie maker to see if he wants me to go back to the beginning, but he whispers something to the mic maid and doesn't seem to have notice. Next Jake will read a section of his novel Bad Splatter, which follows the adventure of a fortunate drugs merchant named Rad the Fucker.
But Jake looks worried, but finally starts again and comes through his scenes in which the bastard drowned an opponent in fluid cement on a construction site. Let me reread it. But Jake looks a little confused, his eye's beginning to warp. You are a cheater" is screamed with a spittle that ends up on the desk between us.
Now Jake's on his legs. He turns around, knocks his stool behind him and stomps out of the cook. Once everything is packed, the mike maid takes me to my cab. Is Jake okay? since he was wiped out at the cooking counter. Sinking into the cab seats, getting back to Warwick, which turns out to be a serious case of tonsilitis.