Dorty Wee Shite - Chapter 2

2 - Dorty Wee Shite by Will McKenzie


Will McKenzie was also a frustrated writer, although perhaps not as frustrated as others in his league. He did already have a book to his name. A couple of years previously he had written a semi-autobiographical account of his life growing up in a middle class home, and the privileges that it had entitled him to. It described the break down of his parents marriage, and the subsequent move to a comprehensive school, and how he had still managed to come away with sufficient qualifications to go on to university despite the best efforts of his school mates. His Book “Making The Grade” had enjoyed some moderate success, certainly amongst others who had come up through the same sort of educational system. He had sailed through his degree with flying colours and gone on to do rather well at university. In his book he detailed his mastery of chess, his prowess on the squash courts and even his reasonable efforts at learning to ride a horse, alongside his academic achievements. He also wrote about the achievements of the students he lived and worked alongside during his university days, and delved briefly into their achievements just after University life.

Although pleased with his acceptance as a writer, Will was also a little down hearted about it. He had tried too hard to please his parents, his father especially, as it was his approval he particularly wanted, as he had always considered Will to be something of an odd-ball, and awkward in normal social circles. Therefore he did not mention in anyway, some of the events which he felt they would not approve of, or even worse, which would have confirmed Wills fathers concerns about his awkwardness around people.

Even at the age of twenty nine, Will felt that he could not do anything which may have an adverse affect on his relationship with mummy and daddy. As a result, his first published work came out sounding a little cold hearted, and made Will appear to be something of an upper-class twit. Ironic really considering that was exactly what he had tried so hard during his school years, not to be. Even he could see that, after reading it, he came across as one of those people who had lived off his fathers wealth, and not really made any great contributions to life. Perhaps in some respects that was true. It was certainly true that during his university years, and immediately afterwards, Wills relationship with his father and step-mother had improved drastically, to the point where he spent equal time with him as he did with his mother. His father had even provided Will with the right contacts in the publishing world to enable him to get his book into print. Most of the funding as well if truth be known.


For his next book, Will wanted to explore some of his darker secrets, Some of the sillier antics of college and university life, maybe even stories from his youth spent with the school friends he had been thrown together with when his parents split up. Friends who unbeknownst to him would make this very difficult period of his life, also the most fun. He would tell tales of some of the girls he had shared time with, both on and off campus, of parties and student high jinx. He was sure that his parents would be OK with it, as long as he published the story as a purely fictional piece, which also gave him the opportunity to embellish the truth, and include some of the antics which were from other students. He was after all, now an accepted writer, and once the doors have been opened, it would take a lot less effort to open them again.

He had the basic plotline drawn out, he also had a reasonable idea of how the major elements of his story would fit in. All he was missing though was a catchy title. His first idea “Campus Antics” just wouldn’t quite cut it. For one thing it would limit where he could take the story, but it would also identify it to himself a little too closely, he did after all, want to base this novel on another person.

Nothing would come to mind, and for days he continually scribbled ideas onto scraps of paper, only to screw them up and throw them in the bin moments later. One evening, he had virtually given up on working out a title, and to relax, he decided to surf the web for a while. It was of course whilst idly browsing around, that three words just seemed to strike him, it was just three words which leapt out at him from a random comment on a blog. He didn’t even stop to read the rest of the blog, or even the comment, the three words were perfect. He just had to turn the computer off and start stringing ideas together to make it fit with his second story.

And so, Dorty Wee Shite was born. Again


It was quite fortunate that Will had at last arrived at a title on which he could pin his novel, because an opportunity for some free publicity just came out of the blue. One of the students from his university had become front page news. He had received an MBE for services to the Youth of Britain. Although not somebody Will was all that close to during his university days, Tony had become something of a sporting celebrity. He represented England at the Olympic games in archery, soon after leaving University, and was now very active in teaching underprivileged youngsters archery. In this capacity he had been given a mention in Making The Grade, and now, to be in the Queens honours list, it was evident he had made the grade.
Tony had been asked to participate in a TV chat show, and would be joined by a couple of other past students that had made the grade. Of course amongst them was Will.

At the studios, it soon became apparent that the other invited guests had all made some pretty major achievements since leaving university. Not only had they made significant achievements, but all were also involved in current important projects. A doctor was involved with a team that were currently researching possible cures for influenza, research that had led the medical profession to entirely change it’s attitude to flu, because it would now be possible to use a single drug to eradicate all strains of it, rather than only be able to counter one or two variants at a time. A well known architect who had been in the same chess club as Will was undertaking one of the most ambitious schemes in recent times. He had been commissioned by one of the leading financial organizations to design and build a new London headquarters, which would become one of the landmarks of the city.

Then there was Will. One book to his name, and to be honest, nothing much to speak of since. He knew he would be asked, so had to be prepared, although he was now having second thoughts about the suitability of his new found title. But too late, the interviewer turned to him and asked.

“So Will, following the success you received for Making The Grade, you seem to have drifted into obscurity” then to a ripple of gentle laughter added “so does that mean you did in fact not make the grade?”

Surely he hadn’t been brought into this programme, to be ridiculed, to be measured against this collection of obviously super brilliant people. After all, modest as it had been, authoring that book had been some sort of achievement. There were plenty of other university graduates that had achieved less. Some were in good city jobs, or like his old school friend Simon, who had also gone on to a university education held middle management positions, so had done OK for themselves, but were, in comparison, equal in achievement to Will. Why had they not been brought in to answer for not taking over their company, or setting the world alight with some huge financial breakthrough on the stock markets. Surely by most accounts, they had also been swallowed up in mediocrity even more than he had. Still, the fact was, they had not. He was there, and the question had been asked, the gauntlet dropped, and it was for him to say something in his defence.

“Actually Mr Kirklan, I have been working on something. I haven’t just been idle these past few years. Just because a writer appears to be dormant, doesn’t mean they are not thinking or working on something in the back ground. You can’t just turn out books like a chicken farmer turns out eggs you know.” As soon as those words left his lips, Will suddenly knew, that once again he had let his mouth turn the people around nearby against him. Only the week before Percy Kirkham had torn a chicken farmer to shreds over allegations that the treatment of his fowl was even below the appalling conditons that battery hens were normally subjected to. Only this time, nearby included half the TV viewing public of the UK, and not just a handful of people within earshot.

For once in his long career, Percy Kirklan was somewhat taken aback, normally his witty banter to an unsuspecting guest left them lost for words, and stumbling. He had to find a comeback and quickly. He was really not prepared for this development. His planned interview was to discuss what normal life was like for Will since his brief encounter with celebrity, but now it had taken a different route.

“So what is this new novel about?”

Will also had to think quick, this was like a mental game of squash, as each tried to outsmart the other, and neither knowing exactly what the other would come back with. In fact, if truth be known, Will didn’t know what he would come back with himself. He was after all making most of this up on the fly.

“It’s about a young man’s progression through the darker underbelly of the educational system, and how he copes with it.”

“Oh, so it’s a re-hash of your last book, but with the passing of time written from the viewpoint of a bitter and twisted under achiever?” Once again, this obvious put down was met with laughter from the audience. “So what is this new novel called”

Will was cornered. He hadn’t really decided that his working title was right for this project, but then neither could he admit that he didn’t have a title, as that would indicate this was a project at the very earliest stages. Once again, his answer was met with a stunned silence from the audience, the other guests and of course Percy Kirklan.

“The book is called Dorty Wee Shite, and in answer to your other question, No, it is not a rehash of my last book, it is a fictional novel, and totally unrelated to Making the Grade.”

Such was the venom in Will’s delivery, that the uncomfortable pause lasted a little longer than would normally be acceptable. In this instance though it did allow the title to sink in with everybody. It emphasized the tensness in the air. At this point, the other guests, regardless of their importance in the public eye, had been reduced to insignificant bystanders as Will and Percy continued their intellectual brawl.

Percy broke the silence. “Dorty Wee Shite, now that is a very unusual title, especially coming from somebody with such a middle class up-bringing as yourself. Can you tell us a little more about it then?”

It may have appeared that Will had lost the battle at this point, as he stood up, and said quite clearly. “No, I’m afraid I have already said too much. Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have rather a lot of work to do.”
And with that, he removed his studio microphone and walked off-set. Leaving Percy Kirkam, his collective guests and a studio audience in stunned silence.

Percy knew that those last words were a sure fire winner. No witty comeback would appear as anything other than an attempt to get in the last word. He therefore did the dignified thing and allowed Will the same dignity by saying politely to the audience.


“A round of applause please for Mr Will McKenzie, author of Making The Grade, and at last we can look forward to his new novel Dorty Wee Shite.”

Now, not only had Dorty Wee Shite been born, it had been unleashed…again!



Although Will had left the studio, the aftershock of his his comments were still making ripples, and the conversation with the remaining guests gravitated toward that subject.

“So doctor Brown, while you were at university, did you encounter any dorty wee shites?”

“I’m sure I must have, but to be honest, I can’t remember any specific incidents”

“and what about you Glen? – You played chess with Will, did he at any time strike you as being a dorty wee shite?”

“Well, not exactly, no. A couple of little pranks perhaps, but nothing springs to mind as standing out. I have to say though, I’m quite intrigued by it. It’s not normally the sort of book I would pick up, but I will certainly get a copy of Dorty Wee Shite when it reaches the shelves.”

The whole programme had suddenly become a massive advertisement for the book. The book that didn’t in fact even exist yet, other than in the form of some roughly made notes and an outline of a plot. Like a chapter from his youth, Will had allowed his mouth to utter a few ill timed words, which although he didn’t yet know it, would send his life into turmoil.


The whole country watched the Percy Kirkham show, and last nights show had really grabbed the attention of the nation. Some semi known writer had thrown a bit of a wobbly and stormed out, and the words dorty wee shite seemed to be included in every other comment made during the show. If anybody had missed the airing of the interview, then it was thrust upon them again the next day, as the news programmes had picked up on it, and there was rumour abound that Will McKenzie had started to suffer a mental meltdown on air during the show.

Danny Graves had been watching the show the night before and almost choked on his tea and biscuits. Then just sat, open mouthed and stunned as the revelations unfolded. He couldn’t quite take it all in. it wasn’t as if the three words were in common useage. Which could mean that a matching title to his own may be purely coincidental. Titles such as “How Too Look After Your Goldfish”, “The Wonderful World Of Meerkats” or even “Lions in Regent Park” could quite feasibly be chosen by two independently working authors. But “Dorty Wee Shite”? – There is no way two people would arrive at that combination of words without one of them plagiarizing it from the other. Danny knew he had not stolen it, because it was his title. Not just the title of his proposed book, but a name he had earned during his own youth. His title, the one he earned alongside a group of like minded frined He was, quite understandably a bit cross.

When it was broadcast again the next day on the national news, he was furious. He was tempted to threaten Will McKenzie with legal action, but that was a bit of a knee jerk reaction. He did know that in reality, neither of them really had a leg to stand on until one of them had published, or at least had documentary proof that their work had been submitted to a publishing house with that title.


Going the legal route, didn’t really appeal to Danny’s sense of humour either. It was a bit boring an official, he could have much more fun playing with this pompous young graduates mind for a while. As he sat there, he started formulating a plan. Then it came to him. He would contact this Will McKenzie, and see if he could live up to his self appointed title of dorty wee shite, or would he pale into insignificance against the undisputed king of the gross, Danny Graves?