Short story character narration (rough read only needed)
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(Sorry - I'm still getting used to this site. I'm reposting for Megan with updated detailed and shorter audition lines. Thank you to those who have already messaged me.)
Megan is the narrator of the story. Early to mid 20s, living in a London houseshare. On Saturday night she celebrates her birthday with friends, who give her a strange bracelet from a charity shop. Megan wears it whilst making a wish to do something newsworthy with her friends and blowing out her birthday candles. On Sunday morning, the friends wake up to discover they've somehow been transformed into the various sections of a copy of the Sunday newspaper, for sale in a supermarket! (800w)
- female young adult
- female adult
This is the wrong newspaper! Have you seen the Sunday Times? The sports pages? Have you seen Puja?! I woke up, we all did. A papery thump as someone shoved us onto the magazine rack at the supermarket. I saw fluorescent lights peeking round newspaper-print and giant faces at strange angles.
I happily blew out the candles, wished we’d get to do something exciting together, something that might make the papers! Why wasn't I more specific? Together, newsworthy, ok;but not actually becoming the sections of a Sunday newspaper!
I'd transformed into the Business pages. “Financial Turmoil Grips Markets.” “Interest Rate Hike Looms.” I could feel the print, downward graphs, economic dread, tattooed over my flat newspaper body. Then Sarah, squeakier, lighter than normal: “I’m the style magazine! I feel glossy! Ooh, ‘10 Best Lipsticks for Autumn’!”
Puja is one of Megan's flatmates. Always needs a bit of reassurance. Wants to be upbeat, but getting more and more nervous
(Although Megan narrates the story and has 75% of the lines, I would like to experiment with including some dialogue from the other people in the story. Each secondary character has about 100 words.)
- female young adult
- female adult
Hey Guys. Are any of you feeling a bit... folded-up? I can't move at all, and it's like I'm creased right in two. There's a fold across my waist, and I'm covered in football scores!
You must be wrong. She does like reading about sport after all. She's pulling me out of the newspaper. Her hands are so big! Oh no (muffled), she's scrunching me up! Help!
Megan! Sarah! Anyone? Giant Polly just tossed me somewhere dark. I'm scrunched into a ball but I still see massive envelopes and magazines. Everything's torn and crumpled. There's yesterday's Metro and last month's Vogue! God. no! I can't be paper recycling! Noone's read me yet! Help!
Sarah is Megan's other flatmate. She's cool and popular.
(Although Megan narrates the story and has 75% of the lines, I would like to experiment with including some dialogue from the other people in the story. Each secondary character has about 100 words.)
- english
- female adult
- female young adult
I definitely don't feel like I'm made of newspaper. I feel glossy. You know what? I'm the Style magazine! Look at my cover; '‘10 Best Lipsticks for Autumn'. How exactly do I read myself?
Ow, what's Polly doing? Is that, a perfume sample? Stuck on page 19. That's part of me Polly, don't just pull it out. Ouch, you've torn me!
I'm not just adverts! I'm not. There's got to be at least four proper magazine articles in here. You could make a great mood board out of me.
Karen is one of Megan's oldest friends. She's lovable but a bit unconfident and often feels left out with Mehan and her cool new flatmates
(Although Megan narrates the story and has 75% of the lines, I would like to experiment with including some dialogue from the other people in the story. Each secondary character has about 100 words.)
- female adult
- female young adult
I'm here! I'm sandwiched between Ruby's pages and the property section. Am I the culture pages? Foreign news? Oh, I'm a gardening supplement.
Do you really think Polly buys the newspaper for the gardening supplement? Noone buys a newspaper for the gardening supplement! I'm going to be lining a hamster's cage, or made into Papier mache
Polly, please help us! We're people, not newspapers! Find that bracelet and wish us back!
Megan's neighbour and Polly's flatmate. And now, the puzzle pages of the Sunday paper: crossword, sudoku,, etc. Thoroughly pissed off this is happening to her, and horrified by the irony of being in her own home in this helpless form
(Although Megan narrates the story and has 75% of the lines, I would like to experiment with including some dialogue from the other people in the story. Each secondary character has about 100 words.)
- female young adult
- female adult
This must be a dream. Too much obsessing about all the newspapers Polly brings home and leaves lying about. It's like I'm flat, printed and trapped between all those paper pages; lost in the news
Fuck, it really is Polly. She's going to actually buy me. Pol, pol! Hey, it's me! No, don't tuck us under your arm
Polly's going to fold me in half and I can't even complain about it. She's going to scribble into my crossword....No, Polly, use a pencil! Do not write on me in Sharpie. And ouch, be careful folding me. I'm your flatmate, not a newspaper!
Karen's big sister. Adventurous l and excited.
(Although Megan narrates the story and has 75% of the lines, I would like to experiment with including some dialogue from the other people in the story. Each secondary character has about 100 words.)
- english
- female adult
- female young adult
"Hidden gems of the Italian coast. See page 5". Bad news, I'm a newspaper. Good news, I'm the travel pages.
Listen, I don't want to be a newspaper forever, but as adventure holidays go, this is unusual!
Woah, folding, unfolding, pages turning... What a workout!
Polly is Amira's flatmate, and Megan's neighbour. She's studying to be a journalist. Just loves newspapers, always has
(Although Megan narrates the story and has 75% of the lines, I would like to experiment with including some dialogue from the other people in the story. Each secondary character has about 100 words.)
- english
- female young adult
- female adult
Right, tea, crossword, bed. Perfect Sunday, that. Best part of the week, if I'm honest. Ooh, seven down: 'folded, doubled over, in distress.' Six letters. Crumpled? No, creased. That's it.
So many sports pages. Just a waste of paper in this house. I'd save it for Amira but I know she hates me cluttering the place up with newspaper. Sorry Sports Section, recycling bin for you
Some people dream about being in the newspapers!
(Although Megan narrates the story and has 75% of the lines, I would like to experiment with including some dialogue from the other people in the story. Each secondary character has about 100 words.)
The shop assistant who obliviously put the friends on the newsstand in the supermarket after mixing up the transformed humans with actual newspaper pages
- english
- female adult
- female young adult
I usually have to put the Sunday papers together. The supplements and magazines arrive separately from the newspaper sections, and I put all the parts together to make each heavy copy of the Sunday Times.
That day someone had already bundled a few of the sections together. Not the whole newspaper, but business, sport, travel, the style magazine and a few others. I folded the other section in with bundle and then it was just like any other copy of the newspaper. I shoved on the shelf with the identical papers.
That's such a funny joke. God, imagine if newspapers were people? What a life!
Megan is the narrator of the story. Early to mid 20s, living in a London houseshare. On Saturday night she celebrates her birthday with friends, who give her a strange bracelet from a charity shop. Megan wears it whilst making a wish to do something newsworthy with her friends and blowing out her birthday candles. On Sunday morning, the friends wake up to discover they've someone been transformed into the various sections of a copy of the Sunday newspaper, for sale in a supermarket! (900w)
- english
- irish
- audiobook
- female adult
- animation/character
- british (northern)
- female young adult
- british
- scottish
We were all there, bundled helplessly together; inaudible to the Sainsburys girl arranging the magazines and newspapers, or the giant shoppers shuffling blurrily past. They reached for croissants, for milk. For us! Browsing! Flipping and crumpling our corners to check smudgy headlines: nightmare-sized fingers, intimate but impersonal. Eventually, pink-tipped hands carried us through the air to the till. BEEP. We got scanned. “Fuck! It's Polly!”, came a new voice, from the newspaper’s puzzle pages. It was Amira, from the flat across the corridor. My wish must’ve also trapped her in our newspaper nightmare! Polly was the journalism student she shared with. "She brings home the papers every Sunday!", said Amira ominously.
Polly paid for us, folded us, and tucked us under her arm. She couldn’t hear our rustling, papery, desperate pleas. “Polly, help! We’re your newspaper! Wish us back!” She carried us home. Dropped us on the kitchen table. We watched helplessly as giant Polly made a vast mug of tea, and then in horror as her terrifying hands separated our vulnerable paper pages. Puja was the sports section. I felt her being ripped away. “Oh shit!”, said Amira, realising. "Polly's not into sport! She never reads..." We heard crumpling, and the soft thud of unwanted newspaper thrown away into a recycling bin. Puja was gone, and the rest of us were helpless in Polly’s hands. Her long nails could rip us, her spilled tea soak us, at any moment!
We were a messy pile of newspapers now, those of us that were left. Our owner scooped us up, her arms full of disposable reading material. Most of us were tossed casually onto her bed. We could only gaze up at Polly neatly creasing the puzzle pages; folding Amira's printed form to try her crossword. No idea she was scribbling in biro all over her flatmate! Oblivious that we were all lying there, trapped as fragile newspaper! And poor Puja, lost in the paper recycling, because of my stupid birthday wish and a cursed bracelet.
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