I recently ran a comedy writing workshop about writing from a point of idiocy as opposed to knowledge. Firstly, it was a complete brain relaxant to make a list of things that I know nothing about (turns out it was long list, whittled down to a short list of about 208). I wanted, in the words of Phillipe Gaullier to find my idiot – and it turns out that I contain multitudes.
What joy! Instead of LinkedIn posts about new achievements, updated CVs, or even the anxiety inducing expectation of being the ‘one with the knowledge’, I got to boast about all the things that I was completely ignorant of – then choose one to use for an extended prompt.
Essentially – choose something that you know nothing about and then fib creatively as if you are the expert in the room. Make the stakes high(ish) – you are a tour guide, delivering a speech at the UN, or in my case a sportscaster commentating on a sport which makes no sense to you. Then improvise a plausible alternative narrative for your chosen topic. Here’s mine:
‘Well, hello there, sports fans. I am both surprised – and well, surprised – to be with you this evening in my new and wholly unexpected role as commentator for a little known sport called Baseball.
Fun fact: baseball was actually invented in Scotland and its origins can be traced back to a small coastal village, where clubs were used to batter crustaceans into a ball to make them more digestible. This of course then became its own game when the young women of the village, bored with waiting for their men to return from sea, would take turns hurling these mollusc balls at each other from a reasonable distance. It was only a matter of time before the women began using the bats to propel these little balls of goodness out towards the fishing boats as an additional source of goodness for those hardworking men.
And so baseball was invented. And so it travelled to America via England, Wales, Spain and of corse Norway, where it is the national sport.
Oh look! Some men in tight trousers have come on the field. Who are they? Right well, one of them has got a big glove on. I think he must be injured. It often happens when playing with the traditional shellfish balls.
There is a lot of spitting on the ground happening right now – vital to make sure that the grass is nice and lubricated but also to release those excess fluids that pro players build up through long bouts of hitting and standing.
And kerblam! That one in the middle has just lobbed it really hard at the one with the stick but he missed it and the one with the injured hand caught it – that must have really bloody hurt!
Well done to the one with the stick – of course the aim in the modern game is to miss it three times in a row, because then you get to have grumpy sit down. He’s nearly there!’
As ever, this was a first draft written in 25 minutes. I quite like it – it was certainly fun. Please find your idiot(s) this weekend.
Stef Is Writing 