Writer's Notebook

This weeks Fiction Friday prompt challenges us to use as many words out of a list of 25 as possible. To see the list and the other contributions go here.

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I scarcely took in the thunderous applause that flared up around me as I stepped out onto the floor and made my way to the podium under the harsh theatre lights. This was no ordinary achievement and it was one we deserved. We would go down in cinematic folklore as the first documentary film ever to be awarded a Best Film academy award.

But then “The Unicorn” was no ordinary film. It had become a major part of my life. Three years on the drawing board, 12 months researching and preparing, 18 months of filming… But from the moment the announcement was made that a genuine unicorn lair had been found somewhere in the Ukrainian steppes I knew this was the one film I had to make. The unicorn was the mythical creature par excellence. Yet, throughout the centuries zoologists had given over their lives to proving its existence. Now that they had done so, documentary evidence would be needed and I would be the one to provide that evidence.

Several colleagues had tried to warn me off. It might ruin my career. It probably would have, had it not been for the support I received from Lord Hare, the world-famous Arts patron. It was due to his flair for talent that I managed to gather my team around me in record time, a rare occurrence in the cinematic world. I could promise nothing but hard work and discomfort. We would live on barges and in tents with no modern comforts. Our fare would be simple, barely sustaining. We would come home exhausted, sore, and never wanting to go on location again.

What I didn’t promise them, what I couldn’t promise them, was this evening. Here, at last, was recognition for our feat. My heart soared as I looked out into the appreciative audience. I had been completely taken aback when I heard we’d got the nomination. So much so I never even read the citation. What did it matter? No one knew better than I the value of the film we had made together. As the applause gradually died down, I took out my speech. It had been prepared for all eventualities. But it seemed so inadequate now. I neatly tore the paper in two. On this most marvellous night of my life, I wanted to speak from my heart. I listened to the booming voice of the presenter reading out the words of the citation:

“Nominated for the most convincing depiction of a mythical being in cinematic history…”

I turned to where the voice came from. Had I heard correctly? It couldn’t be true. And as the scorn rose within me, I began to realise the full irony of our have been awarded the Best Film award.