"In development", by Catriona

Q: If you write in an alternate non-mystery genre, which one - and why? If you don't, which genre would you most like to write in, and what attracts you to it?

There was this too, mind you
Details here 

I sort of do and I definitely have. Let me explain. 

In the late 1990s when I was groping my way towards the realisation that I didn't want to be an academic - hard to face after studying for nine years to get the job, right? - I entered a sitcom-script-writing competition run by BBC Scotland.

I did it "properly" too. Bought myself some manuals on how to write sitcoms as well as the complete scripts of Fawlty Towers and The Royle Family, and eventually produced a script for a half-hour radio comedy. Radio is important here for two reasons: the competition was open to either telly or audio scripts but I reckoned most entrants would be be-dazzled by the idea of hair and make-up, famous faces, BAFTAs and all the rest of it and, therefore, the judges would think that anyone submitting a radio script was more interested in the process itself and more worth nurturing. (The second reason comes later.)

The Royles

Anyway, I didn't win. But someone at the BBC in Glasgow - Neil Something (worked on Chewin' the Fat and Still Game) - saw promise in the script and invited me in for a meeting. And another meeeting. And yet a third meeting. In between trips to Glasgow I was refining, polishing, editing, spoiling, diminishing, obliterating . . . it was almost a relief when Neil said he was ready to take it forward. Meantime, he advised, I should crack on with another one.

So on I cracked. I wrote a much better script: "Hearth Attacks" about a home makeover show that goes horribly wrong and ends up a massive hit. What was left of Script 1 went "into development" and . . . 

. . . never came out again. Script 2 followed close behind. I sometimes think about them wandering, hand-in-hand, lost in the murk of BBC limbo, whistling to keep their spirits up. Or maybe chanting "Producers, commsssioners, bears, oh my" as they go. 

Fast forward a few years and I found myself happily ensconsed in the crime-fiction genre and community, no regrets about not being a scriptwriter, but glad to have had the experience, because of the second gift that thinking about radio drama for all those months gave me. 

Simply put, you don't know what's going on on the radio unless someone tells you, just like you don't know what's going on in a crime novel unless someone tells you. And that's treasure. In an audio-only sitcom, there are jokes that work because of the gap between what the characters see and what the characters say. In crime fiction, it's clues and red herrings, but the principle is the same. The characters see one thing, describe it in a particular way, and cause the audience or reader to see something completely differnt. There's a very handy space for misdirection in that process and I love the challenge of trying to squeeze maximum bamboozlement into it.

There's a downside, though. (Remember at the top where I said I sort of do write in another genre?) Try as I might, I can't quite wean myself off the joy of writing funny ensemble scenes for my crime-novel characters, whether or not they move the story on or derail the pacing. 

What's that? A chorus of voices saying, "But your pacing is impeccable, Catriona." "You've never written a self-indulgent ensemble comedy scene in your life."

Or let's imagine that chorus anyway. Au contraire. I have written them. I've written lots of them. My agent reads them, enjoys them, sometimes kills them, sometimes lets my editor read, enjoy and kill them. Point is, by the time the book comes out they're long gone. And the margin note that serves as murder-weapon? DINNERLADIES, which is one of my favourite, daft, wordy, almost plot-free sitcoms. 

The late, great Victoria Wood

Victoria Wood, unlike me, had the clout to get it out of development unscathed.

Cx