I’d forgotten what it was like to be head-down in a Literal Challenge challenge, but I have been Reminded. This is how it goes.
Sign up for it. Some time beforehand, so forget about it, apart from telling your writing mates and letting them laugh and be puzzled. Get the email two days before the start, telling you to submit a test document so that they know you have got the email, will receive each brief as it is issued and can send documents through. Cue flurry of panicked emails from people who did not get the email, forgot to sign up, can’t access the website etc. This time, I got the email first time and sent them a short play I’d written as a test of the formatting.
The big Hello, the Zoom meeting for as many participants as they can squeeze into one room to launch the challenge, and halfway through that, they release the first brief. I missed the launch Zoom, as it clashed with a regular Zoom with friends that I didn’t want to give up. But I got the first brief at 22.00 on January 31st, and I was away. Read it and was away writing. Bear in mind, I have 36 hours to submit, no excuses, and the wind outside was threatening to bring down the power lines.
Wrote the first play… re-read the brief… understood what they were REALLY asking for… wrote them a different short play that actually fit the brief they were asking for and submitted it 25 hours after getting the brief.
Just an hour before I dispatched Play number 1, the brief for Play 2 landed in my inbox. I read the brief and (as always) had no good ideas of what I could write for it. Got an idea that fit their requirements. Then another. Wrote them a play. Re-wrote it. Edit. Submit. Sitting back now for a precious two minutes before Brief Number 3 lands in my inbox, and I have 36 hours to formulate an idea, write, edit, submit. Hoping all the time that the power isn’t cut, I have ideas, I’m not struck down by Covid or laziness or something else…
At 22.00 tonight, I get my orders and tomorrow I’ll be off again, writing, writing. Enjoying it, don’t get me wrong, the briefs are inventive and I’m glad I signed up. But… the pressure. Just, please, no more tigers.
Julia Chalkley 