What's the Big Idea? - Nick Green
I don't even own that coat anymore |
I shelved the blog post I was going to write, because
something caught my eye and made it pop out in anger. You may or may not have
noticed that last month was the deadline for The Big Idea Competition, an
apparent bid to find the ‘next big thing’ (you’re not yawning already?).
This is the brainchild of Barry Cunningham, well-known as
the editor who discovered Harry Potter, which was the biggest Big Thing in
publishing history, and also Tunnels, which… wasn’t. The premise is simple. As
in, simply infuriating.
‘Have you got an idea for a story that children will love?’
the website asked. ‘Then tell us in 500 words! Win the chance of seeing your
idea transformed into a book, movie, TV or theatre production!’
There is so much wrong with this premise – in fact the whole
concept is so breathtakingly cynical and disingenuous – that I hardly know
where to begin. The supposed rationale, as explained in its publicity
materials, sounds reasonable enough: there are lots of people out there who
might have a great idea for a story, but who lack the skill / patience /
masochism to actually sit down and write it. But don’t worry! the organisers
assure us. We’ve got stacks of authors and playwrights and impresarios right
here! You come up with a good idea, and we’ll do the rest. Simples.
I’ll skip over the obvious question – can’t this crack team
of in-house gurus come up with a good idea themselves? – because as any writer
and indeed reader should know, a good idea isn’t the point. And I believe Barry
Cunningham knows this (or at least, he really should know this) perfectly well.
Let’s take Harry Potter as our example. What’s the Big Idea
behind Harry Potter? A boy discovers he is a wizard, and goes to Wizard School,
where he has many adventures and battles a Dark Lord. Now with all due respect
to J K Rowling, this on the face of it does not make you sit up. Not even back
in 1997, when the first book came out. In those days, in fact, it looked almost
like a throwback – a rather quaint revival of ideas seen in books like The
Worst Witch, with a bit of Mallory Towers, Diana Wynne Jones and Tolkien mixed
in.
You can imagine a million ways in which Rowling’s idea could
have been written, and ended up as a total train wreck. The fact that it turned
into a great story can be attributed solely to how she handled it. The same is
true of almost any book. Three-foot hero carries indestructible ring of
ultimate evil to volcano to destroy it. Napoleon invades Russia and lots of
people fall in love and die. A parallel universe wages war on God, aided by
animals that are actually their souls (yeah, Pullman, like that’s ever gonna
fly). A girl lives with her family in a castle and… writes about them.
Booor-ing.
The competition organisers offer an example so you can ‘see
how it works’. They ask, what if Peter Pan were to be a submission? They then
proceed to give a 500 word synopsis of Peter Pan, to illustrate their point. My
jaw unhinged. It was a bit like when Robert Maxwell sold shares in the Mirror
newspaper, and told the public that if the value of Mirror Group doubled in a
month, they could double their money. It’s completely true and accurate and at
the same time the most whopping pack of lies.
Now, I don’t know how J M Barrie wrote that book (though I
think it was a play first, wasn’t it?) – but I would wager he didn’t start out
with that kind of detailed synopsis. The Peter Pan pitch does look interesting
– BUT OF COURSE IT DOES. Because we all know the story and we can all picture
it, and because it’s based on an existing work, a classic no less (not to
mention a colossal Disney franchise) so it also makes coherent sense and ‘feels
finished’. Furthermore, it includes snippets of Barrie’s prose, just to hammer
it home. Which, incidentally, takes this beyond the Big Idea, into the realm of
actual writing. See, see – they are cheating at their own game, even as they
set out the rules.
And yet… even then, would you commission ‘Peter Pan and
Wendy’ based on that pitch? I doubt it. If you’d never heard of any of those
characters before, and didn’t know the story or how big an impact it made,
you’d probably think: bit weird. A tad surreal. Too
different. Change the name ‘Tootles’. And most of all: not sure my team of
ghost writers are up to developing this one.
I would argue the very opposite of what this competition
claims. I’d suggest that a great book is often one where the original kernel of
the idea looks unremarkable. Because it really is all in the treatment. It’s in
the writing. That’s where the quality comes from. That’s what turns a concept
(which is neither good nor bad in itself) into a Big Idea. The Big Idea isn’t
the start of the book. It IS the book. It’s irreducible. I never know if my
ideas are any good or not until I write THE END and go back and read over the
whole novel.
So the Big Idea Competition is based on a fundamental
misreading of how fiction is created. This leaves us with two possibilities.
Either this misreading is accidental, or it is deliberate. Either Barry
Cunningham is totally clueless about books, in which case he must be the
luckiest chancer in history – or he knows perfectly well that real stories
don’t happen this way, and the whole exercise is merely a publicity stunt to
attract attention, and manufacture a phenomenon in the hope that it’ll take off
in a way that ‘Tunnels’ so spectacularly failed to.
I wonder which it is.
Comments
Good post!
‘Have you got an idea for a story that children will love?’ the website asked. ‘Then tell us in 500 words! Win the chance of seeing your idea transformed into a book, movie, TV or theatre production!’
When we've given this chap our 500 words, who gets to 'transform' it? Who gets to earn the money? Has this feller not read the Guardian today? Come across the word Wonga, for example?
Thanks for dropping your original blog. This one is dynamite. (Perhaps you ought to sub it down to 500 words and send it to him. He might be able to use it!)
The evil genius of this ploy is that it really doesn't matter WHAT the idea chosen is. Only the fact of it being picked, and all the inherent publicity. Any random assemblage of characters and incidents could be cobbled into a passable story by their hired guns. And the headlines and fanfares do the rest.
The fact that there is famously no copyright on 'ideas' is also highly pertinent, probably.