What’s the worst time to get a stinking cold? If you said ‘Christmas Eve Eve Eve’, you’d be correct! That’s why I’ve been stuck in bed, squeezing out a pitiful word count then giving up and bingeing on crisps and series 2 of Skam, instead of stoating about the New Town drinking cocktails with my long-suffering husband.
On the other hand, Skam is a good way to waste an afternoon. If you’re not aware of the phenomenon, here‘s a good introduction. Sadly, unless you want to wait for the (probably going to be inferior) US adaptation, you’ll have to search Tumblr for fan-made English subtitles. Unless you’re me, in which case those months on Duolingo learning Norwegian have really paid off, and you can appreciate William’s stunning cheekbones in the original language. Ahem.
But seriously, Skam is so well-made, it puts our YA TV output to, well, shame. (And that includes most of Class, in my opinion. SORRY, PATRICK NESS.) I just want our TV commissioners to be a bit braver, stop casting 30-somethings as teenagers (grr), and really tap into what teenagers want. Which, if Skam’s anything to go by, is sassy Muslim girls, honest explorations of sexuality, and floppy hair that’s making main characters, possibly even my own, run to the barbers and go ‘style me like William’.
Tomorrow’s Blogmas may be a bit earlier, so that I can clock off for the #freelancexmasparty at 3pm. Come join me on Twitter and we’ll all have a ball. I’ve got mini gingerbread stars in and everything.