Not NaNoWriMo – Part 6

If I were taking part in NaNoWriMo, I’d almost certainly be on track with my word count and winging my way towards a commercial and critical success.

Instead I’ve chosen to affectionately lampoon the whole thing by sketching out ideas for novels I will never write.

Because they are bad ideas.

Today’s worthless would-be work is the following:

You had me at Cello

Everyone loves a ‘rom-com’, don’t they? So, I imagine they also love the literature equivalent – I think it’s known commonly as ‘chick-lit’ although to my untrained eye that does seem sexist as terminology goes. I’m already a little out of my depth here.

On with the story then and this would essentially be centred around a cellist in an orchestra (hence the extremely clever title), who, despite being attractive, and clearly successful (I imagine it’s not easy to become a professional cellist?) has worrying self-esteem issues that instead of addressing in an appropriate and sensitive way, we’ll use to create lots of uncomfortable and highly comic scrapes for her to get herself into. Although in reality, in the broader context of the world we live in, she’s probably quite privileged and all her problems would fall very much into the category of ‘first-world problems’.

Let’s also say that she’s ‘second cellist’ (do they have multiple cellists in orchestras?) and she has her eye on becoming ‘first cellist’ when her mentor (a loveable and wise old person) retires, early in the story. Instead she is overlooked, despite her obvious talent, for a new orchestra member, who is in every way her polar opposite (except they are both cellists – let’s ignore that minor point). He’s also really attractive though.

Initially there’s a kind of sang-froid between them, but eventually, after a number of hilarious mishaps fuelled by their rivalry, they fall in love. Maybe she becomes ‘first cellist’, but in a way that allows him to step aside graciously and retain his dignity.

Let’s throw in some other clichés too. Like a kooky best friend – probably a percussionist in this tale.

And a happy ending that, when all is said and done, is probably a little ‘too happy’ to be even remotely credible.

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