Dan and me
The celebrated author Dan Brown smiled, smugly, until a revelation struck him.
“A revelation has just struck me!” he thought.
He decided that he would not mention it,
Either in internal monologue nor in narration
Until such time as he couldn’t hold it off any longer
Or found the plot was flagging.
“And that’s what I do,” he thought,
“Because I am a celebrated writer — no, author — of religious-themed
Conspiracy thrillers.”
A figure stepped dramatically from the shadows.
“Please,” the figure that had just stepped dramatically from the shadows whispered,
Frustratedly, “Stop. Just stop. With the internal monologue and the adverbs and
“Everything. Stop it.”
Dan Brown immediately recognised his antagonist as minor hack author Wood Ingham,
Writer of a few books he was actually not all that proud of,
An Englishman and therefore likely to be revealed
As the villain of this piece.
Wood for his part, regarded the celebrated American author,
Whose religious-themed conspiracy thrillers had sold
Millions of copies
(And two of which had been made into hit movies starring Oscar-winning
Hollywood actor Tom Hanks and Audrey Tautou who everyone loved in Amelie
Although she was only in the first one
And Ewan McGregor out of Star Wars was actually in the other one)
With a face contorted by contempt and hate
As was his perfidious English manner.
“Perfidious Albion,” mused Brown,
Smirking as he realised that he was about fifty per cent sure what
“Perfidious” meant
And knew that Albion was a good synonym for England or something.
English hack Wood for his part considered what had led him to this juncture…
“Hang on. Hang on,” said the tall, fair-haired bespectacled Englishman,
Doing something sort of English with his spectacles because
That’s how
You build character.
“You just changed point of view! You pull this all the time, man.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Brown, not knowing
What the English hack meant.
“I mean, come on, you haven’t even mentioned in your internal monologue
“That you’re tied to a chair, man.
“I mean, what is that?
“I mean, is that really how you think you build tension, by
“Withholding information and then going, hah, here’s the shock that the
“Characters experienced twenty pages ago?”
Dan Brown struggled silently, wondering how he was going to escape
The bonds that held his wrists tightly to the back of the chair,
And which were indeed the subject of his sudden revelation at the top of this page.
Brown bristled, nobly. “Release me, hack!” he cried.
“Shan’t,” said Wood, smugly. “This is my fictional revenge fantasy and
“I’ll let you go when I decide.”
“You just broke the fourth wall! And you tell me I’m not a great writer,” retorted Brown.
“Damned right I do,” said Wood in his
Unmistakeable English accent, undaunted by the great author’s inexorable logic.
“Like, just for the one example, what’s with the European stereotypes?
“Like the French copper is badly shaven and smokes a lot and
“The French lady is chic because that’s the only French word you know.”
Brown realised with a thunderbolt that this wasn’t fair.
He did know other French words.
“That isn’t fair,” shouted Brown, understanding that shouting is better for
Drama. “That isn’t the only French word I know!”
“What other words do you know, then?” inquired Wood, leeringly.
“Baguette,” uttered the best-selling author triumphantly.
“Besides,” added Dan Brown, “You only hate the Da Vinci Code because I blow the
“Doors off your Christian preconceptions!”
“Oh please. Your wife did your research on Post-It notes.
“Badly.
“Anyway. Umberto Eco can write a perfectly decent religious-themed thriller.
“No,” added Wood,
“I hate your work because it’s shit.
“I hate your work because
“You can’t write a believable character.
“Because you can’t write believable dialogue.
“Because you think a Smart Car is faster than a Parisian police saloon.
“Because you think that a self-mutilating albino can be
“An invincible ninja monk.
“Because you think the Greatest Cryptologist in the World
“Can’t recognise mirror writing
“And needs to be told who Leonardo Da Vinci is
“Because your protagonist is professor of an academic discipline
“That doesn’t fucking exist
“But the thing that offends me most is that every time
“I pass the big high street bookshop
“I see big displays promoting your new book
“And it pains me
“Like physically
“It pains me
“Because you are selling millions and millions
“Of your shitty, shitty novels,
“Because of the bookshop real estate you own
“That means that others can’t.
“Fuck you, Dan Brown.
“Fuck. You.
“Because I am a better writer than you!”
Said Wood, furiously.
Dan Brown thought for a moment, and smiled. He replied,
“And how many novels have you sold, exactly?”
Wood seethed, silently.
Of course, the ultimate result of all this bile is that he’s sold the novels and I haven’t, so my fuming about Brown’s shitty, shitty novels is in point of fact useless and empty.
This is really a performance piece, one that honestly, I swear, I swear, is much better when I’m performing it (particularly, imagine a pause of one beat between the screamed fifth-from-last line, and the one immediately following).
Like so many of the pieces I have written that I don’t actually consider to be all that good, when I read this at The Crunch the week before last, it got an exceptionally warm reception. I’ve been asked to perform it again at Stuff Happens this Friday, so if you want to hear it as it was originally intended, you know where you have to be.
Oh, and “Dan and Me” is not actually the official title of this piece.
June 29th, 2009 at 8:23 pm
Heh.
June 29th, 2009 at 8:24 pm
Is the original title of the piece: “Dan Brown Is A Mighty Cunt?”
June 29th, 2009 at 8:26 pm
No, but close enough.
The title was “Fuck you, Dan Brown.”
I was last up at the open mic — I’m a regular — and there’d been like fifty really serious poems before me. And I was like, this is a poem about how as a writer, you’re never as successful as you want to be. It’s called, “Fuck You, Dan Brown.”
I got a round of applause before I even got to the start of the poem. Times like that, you know you’ve already won the audience.
June 29th, 2009 at 8:44 pm
As a live-performance piece, I like it a lot, even with its adverbs and third-person antics.
Is it worth the cost of your soul? No. Remember, remember: Dan Brown has nothing to do with you. His success costs you nothing.
Succeed despite him, not to spite him.
June 30th, 2009 at 8:07 am
Thanks for posting this from a member of the very appreciative audience ;)
June 30th, 2009 at 8:26 am
@Will: he’s cost me nothing, true.
But the economics of book sales, at least over here, mean that for every acre of shelf space a Dan Brown display takes up, an acre of other writers’ books, good, bad and indifferent, get remaindered. Dan Brown (and maybe JK Rowling, although I don’t think I can honestly bring myself to hate her) is costing other writers. His work is actively keeping other published writers from their chance.
Which actually brings me to put what I wanted to say in a much better way, so actually I’ve edited it to include that thought.
Dan Brown costs me nothing. But you’re helping make my writing better.
July 1st, 2009 at 7:38 pm
I don’t quite know that it works that way, that he’s taking up space where better writers could live. I mean, the top of the sales is so often reserved for the lowest common denominator. It has to be to appeal to a wide audience like that. That doesn’t necessarily mean it’s bad, but whatever takes up that big, shiny shelf space is usually that kind of material.
The good thing is, it’s that kind of material that keeps booksellers — and book publishers — in business. I genuinely do not believe that Dan Brown, or any other Writer Du Jour, is taking up valuable real estate.
– c.
July 19th, 2009 at 10:09 pm
ooh this is clever! I bet it’s even better as a performance piece.
August 8th, 2009 at 5:35 pm
I saw this at the crunch and thought it was amazing in every way.I genuinely don’t think i’ve laughed so hard in my life (yes, i was the embarassing girl near the front bent over in hysterics). ‘Fuck you Dan Brown’ has become a catchphrase of mine since. So good to be able to read it again….but man, that night you were electric! Please do it again sometime and let me know. I loved it and utterly agree ‘fuck you, dan brown, FUCK you!’
August 9th, 2009 at 1:59 pm
Thank you. I really appreciate that. Although I didn’t notice anyone being particularly embarassing.
If you’re interested, I’m doing the headline feature at the Crunch on 20th August, and I was thinking that I’d probably have to wheel this one out at the end. Come and say hi next time you’re there. I won’t bite.
September 6th, 2009 at 9:07 am
I saw a great book in an airport the other day, it was like something co-written by Dan Brown and Andy McNab. I wish I could remember what it was called.