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BLOGLOVIN
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Available in ebook and paperback
257 pages
I’m very pleased to share an extract from a new comedy novel from debut author David Joland, The Biggest Idea in the World. In it, we meet Barry Goodman, the world’s funniest, most loveable loser, and go on a hilarious ride as he attempts to take on the corporate giants of the world…and beat them at their own game!
An extract from The Biggest Idea in the World:
My thoughts return to the premiere.
The biggest names in the valley are going to be there, and I may have the chance to challenge Mark Zuckerburg on why he pinched my Facebook idea. Whilst I’m at it, I’ll probably see the bastards behind Uber, Instagram and the countless other ideas stolen from me, as well as a few faces I met at the Oat House.
I decide the best plan of action is to keep a low profile, watch Mickey do his thing, and leave surreptitiously before anyone has a chance to see me.
The film starts at 8pm, but the reception and pre-movie party starts at 6pm.
The Premiere Special is being broadcast live on Fox from 7pm for an hour, so the biggest names will want to arrive as soon after that as possible to ensure they get enough time to swan down the red carpet, mixing with the film’s stars and making out they’re all old mates, despite having never met before.
Mickey will probably arrive at 7:30pm and he’ll want to talk about how fantastic his movie is, and thank everyone who helped him bring it together.
I, of course, arrive bang on six, and am amongst the first.
There’s a great deal of fuss going on as the TV cameras and boom microphones take their positions along the red carpet. The few others who have arrived early are watching the cameras, watching them. They’re being used for positioning shots only. There’s less than zero interest in who they are. It’s only ever those that have done odd-jobs on the set, or are related to the major players, that turn up at this time.
Behind the barriers, there’s already a crowd assembling. I walk past them, and as I step onto the red carpet I can’t help feeling slightly superior, and perhaps a little sweaty.
I notice my chest puff up, and my pace slow. From the corner of my eye, I see people hanging over the barriers watching me, and I sense their envy.
I slow further and develop a slight swagger to my walk. About half way along the carpet I hear someone shouting, and almost immediately, a security guard appears next to me ordering me stop. He points to behind the barriers, where he wants me to go.
I tell him smugly, I’m invited and watch the look of disbelief on his face, as he demands to see my invitation, which I suddenly realise I don’t have. There are a few jeers from those behind the barriers as people are quick to remind me I’m no one special, and I’m escorted towards a make-shift hospitality tent, behind a truck buzzing with generators.
Both the security guard and the lady in the tent seem genuinely disappointed to find my name on Mickey Roughton’s personal guest list, albeit misspelt.
When I’m handed a brown package, inscribed ‘to my good mate Barry, enjoy the show’ with a smiley face and Mickey scrawled across it, they become apologetic. I milk it for all it’s worth and explain I’m actually Mickey’s partner but I keep a low profile. It backfires somewhat as they offer me an access through the rear entrance, which I politely refuse.
As I stuff the package into my inside jacket pocket I’m escorted back to the beginning of the red carpet. I speed up. Making an entrance is one thing, but re-entering in front of the same crowd is nothing short of humiliating.
I’ve only watched Fox TV once before, but I instantly recognise the tanned face and white teeth of Chuck Jenkins, the over-enthusiastic host who interviewed Mickey on his last trip. He’s caked in make-up and standing at the entrance to greet the VIPS and celebrities who will follow my footsteps in the next hour. He waves me on, shouting for me to walk quicker as I’m going to ruin his shot if anyone important comes along.
Aside from him, I recognise no one, so I spend time walking around on my own looking like an extra in a crowd scene, which I conclude I am.
As I wander, I see the long lines of seating, extended by the additional seats brought in for tonight’s performance. There’s a large marquee to one side through which I see a bar.
I decide that’s where I’ll spend my time.
After plucking two rather pleasant cocktails – the names of which I don’t know – from the bar, I find myself relaxing. Not being a drinker, I have no idea what else to order. Apart from lager and coke, I only know the names of drinks from what I’ve seen on TV or in the cinema. The barman tells me there’s no such thing as Duff beer so I order a tequila slammer, and then an extra-dry martini, shaken, not stirred, and with an olive. Both drinks are disgusting.
The area’s filling up and although I don’t recognise anyone, I know these are the most powerful people in the Valley. Some of them are probably aware of Project Ronald by now. Some of them are probably ripping me off at this very moment. I’m looking out for Mark Zuckerburg when suddenly music starts blaring from a speaker on the tall post I’ve been leaning against for balance. There follows a buzz in the room as it fills with a wave of celebrities. They’re all waving and blowing kisses. The guys are shaking hands with everyone they pass, cupping their victims hand with their other hand as if to add sincerity to their shake.
There are cameramen walking backwards as they lead familiar faces across the room. I’ve seen some of them before on TV. I think one was in Mash and another was in a film about a shipping disaster I saw last year.
Then I see Mickey. He’s flanked by Boogie Trent and another star – who’s name I don’t know, but I think she was in a film about a rock band – and he’s holding their hands like they’re best friends. There’s a camera in front of him and one each side.
His hair looks immaculate and I think he’s also wearing makeup. He’s grinning and as he walks past me our eyes catch and he winks.
I have no idea what time it is, and as I drink my Singapore Sling, I realise we’re live on air…
David Joland is a novelist and businessman. His debut novel, The Biggest Idea in the World, is available from Amazon, priced at £8.99 in paperback and £3.99 as an e-book. For more information see thebiggestideaintheworld.com
My thanks to Emma of The Book Publicist for providing the extract
| About the Book |
Meet Barry, a deluded Uber driver, saddled with debt and a wife who hates him.
Convinced he’s a genius, and that Facebook, Tripadvisor – and just about every other internet giant – were all his ideas, he’s determined not to lose out with his latest brainwave by taking it to Silicon Valley himself.
Leaving London with a suitcase full of Non-Disclosure Agreements and a head full of dreams, Barry’s confident he’s done everything possible to protect his idea and make his billions.
He pitches to deal-crazed bankers, greedy funders, geek-techies – and a shop assistant whose partner’s a conman.
All of them want Barry’s idea. All of them want to cut him out.
His one savior could be Mickey Roughton, the world famous movie producer who’s in town to promote his latest blockbuster.
What starts off as a helping-hand turns to disaster when Barry’s idea is broadcast on national TV allowing anyone to steal it – and everyone does. It looks like his unblemished record of disasters remains intact, until slowly the details of his master plan unfold revealing what could be the greatest scam to hit the Valley.
| Author Bio |
David Joland is an experienced entrepreneur based in Hertfordshire. Starting his first business at 17, he’s gone on to start, build and sell several businesses in a range of sectors from advertising to tech, packaging to mail order. Now, as an investor in business, David gets to meet the aspiring techies hoping to make their fortune with a fantastic idea – but no idea how to implement it. This group of wannabee Zuckerbergs were the inspiration for this novel.
