That’s me finished the 3rd draft of ‘the c-word’. I’ve probably more-or-less doubled the length of the thing, so it’ll be around fifteen, twenty pages (probably) once I type in all the additions I’ve made.
That’s it taken a sort of shape. There’s still polishing to be done, but I’m happy with what it looks like for now.
It’s throwing me back on the authors I like who use humour well, Tom Sharpe, Christopher Brookmyre and Mil Millington, to name but three.
When I’m unsure how to polish a particular scene for maximum hilarity, I try to reconstruct the scene in the style of each of them – Sharpe’s willful blasphemy, Millington’s stunned rationality, Brookmyre’s pope-hating and catholic-baiting…
Other humourous influences are, Monty Python (who gave me surrealism when I was but a callow youth with spots and mood-swings), and of course, Graham Linehan (Father Ted, the IT crowd), Charlie Brooker and Chris Morris.
Hopefully the finished product won’t be a photocopy of any of these, but draw on elements from most-if-not-all of them.
I’ve never written humour before, so I’m looking forward to the challenge. Which will probably kill me. And follow me to hell. And watch me being sodomised in a lake of fire by Cerberus, the three-headed dog of the abyss.
Why not read the novel that started it all? 1919 (inside)
A love story – on home-made acid – narrated by someone first used romatically, then set on fire, by the blue peter team, capering around the pyre like wrinkled vikings.