Don’t wander into the spooky basement… and other life lessons from literature
In June, one of my colleagues posted a scathing defence of English Literature degrees amidst the Sheffield Hallam University *uproar*. Well, I have just committed the cardinal sin. With the full support of the lovely 50-Degrees team, I have just started a part-time English Literature MA.
By taking full advantage of the 50 Degrees flexible working policy, I now spend my Fridays sipping pumpkin spice lattes and reading whimsical stories in the armchairs of trendy coffee shops. That’s what an English Literature MA is, right? Turns out, it involves a lot more frantic essay writing, trying to get my mic to work in online tutorials, and last-minute freak-outs about whether my references are formatted correctly. Who could have known?
Between this and it being the time of year when prospective students across the UK have just embarked on their own university journeys, I’ve been reflecting on how the main tenets of storytelling apply to bid writing, drawing on *very serious* wisdom from some of my favourite books.
Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein: You’re desperately pulling parts together from everywhere, trying to breathe life into your motley creation, and time is running out. We’ve all been there. With so many moving parts, finding the narrative can be challenging. Take a moment to reflect on the story that will be framed across the bid, using this ‘golden thread’ to ‘stitch together’ your own piece of the narrative. Admittedly, it’s unlikely that your bid response will avow vengeance upon humanity, but the stakes are still high!
Mark Danielewski’s House of Leaves: Does your new house have a dark, physics-defying system of corridors that you feel compelled to explore? Don’t expect not to run into something menacing lurking in the darkness. We all find ourselves wandering down this never-ending path at some point – word count abandoned, purpose long forgotten. Carefully plan your direction, understand the structures that are going to frame your journey and have a clear end point in mind. Ensure that each element of your response is well mapped and signpost areas that address evaluation criteria. Or, ideally, move to a house that doesn’t contain a dark abyss. That’s an option too.
Anita Desai’s The Complete Stories: Examine the wider issues at play and pull them together into a compelling thread, understanding how your words contribute to a wider discussion. Ok – slightly more serious for this one. Even though I don’t usually read short stories, this collection has made a lasting impression on me. Anita explores how identity, place, and conceptions of ‘home’ interplay across cultures and experiences. It highlights how words have a real-world impact – an important tenet in putting together impactful bids that genuinely commit to social value.
Scott Lynch’s The Lies of Locke Lamora: To pull off a successful heist, play to the strengths of your co-thieves, assume you’ll need to improvise, and plan, plan, plan! In this fantasy heist, a raggle-taggle band of thieves try to pull off the plan of a lifetime, but things quickly derail… Sound familiar? I’m definitely not saying that a bid is the same as a heist (or that 50D bid plans are prone to derailment!), but they both involve a lot of planning, getting into other people’s head, and pulling off some pretty tricky manoeuvres.
To summarise, understanding the ‘ingredients’ of impactful storytelling is a crucial part of creating compelling bids. Being a Bid Writer is basically the same as being the resourceful (and devilishly handsome) anti-hero in a quirky-but-gripping adventure plot. And, above all, avoid spooky basements.
Did I stray a little off topic? Possibly. Will I regret my optimism when I’m neck-deep in my dissertation year? Probably. Am I off for a pumpkin spiced latte that will cost roughly one month’s rent? Yes, yes I am.
Jemma Gurd
Consultant