COLLECTIVE CREATIVITY IS A seductive concept. If one imagination can produce rewarding art, what if several creative brains worked together? And the internet seems the ideal place for such collaborations.

One person could begin a novel, and another could move the storyline along. Careful types could take a fine-tooth comb to the grammar and spelling, as well as the imagery and language. Public spirited editors might eliminate mindless vandalism or obscenity, and the finished book would be greater than the sum of its parts.

Several internet phenomena thrive on collective knowledge, notably the online encyclopaedia Wikipe-dia, where thousands of people write and edit the site. The idea of creativity being harnessed with the same success is tempting.

Yet, although fiction abounds on the internet, no story had been written by the online masses until some bright sparks at Penguin teamed up with new media specialists at De Montford University, Leicester, to begin a brave experiment. Harnessing the technology that allows Wiki-pedia to be written and edited, they launched a wikinovel last month, titled A Million Penguins. Anyone could contribute and anyone could change it — this was group writing without limits. The project remained online for several weeks, and is now there in its completed form at amillionpenguins.com/wiki.

The technical director, Jeremy Ettinghauser, was first to spy this new potential. “It seemed like a good idea,” he says, “because there is a huge amount of talk about groups and committees on the internet, and we wanted to see if we could apply this group use of ideas an technology to a novel. We also wanted to create a space for people to talk about writing together.” He was careful not to expect too much: “The quality is not up to me. It is up to the people writing it.” He admits, however, that he is rarely impressed by fiction on the net.

John Sutherland, Emeritus Professor of English Literature at University College London, sounds a more cynical note, saying that collaborative fiction has been tried before and “it never works”. Hegives the example of The Detection Club, a group of mystery writers including Dorothy L. Sayers and Agatha Christie, all of whom achieved more with individual than collaborative works. There was also a 1960s novel, Naked Came the Stranger, an attempt by several writers of the day to prove that any rubbish could sell provided it had plenty of sex scenes. It attracted some attention as a curio, but had no lasting success.

Whatever their expectations, everyone must have been surprised by the response to the wikinovel, which drew nearly 1,500 contributors. But result is a vast, sprawling, surreal read. At one point the story split into “Novel A” and “Novel B” and the site has links to alternative endings. Characters and storylines appear and disappear in a sometimes incomprehensible mass of writing.

There has been the recurring appearance of a writer intent on including bananas; at one stage Fred, a mouse is described thus: “Fred wasn’t sure what he was talking about. The mention of bananas had made him hungry. He felt like a banana, or a banana split, or maybe a banana smoothie — or perhaps, at a stretch, banana pie. It was such a versatile fruit! He did a little dance — spelling the word ‘banana’ out with his body — ‘B-A-N-A-N-A’!”

Kate Pullinger, a novelist and creative writing teacher who worked on the project, says that it is ground-breaking: “It’s the first time that I have come across a collaborative writing project open to the whole world.”

But is it any good? Scott Pack, the former Waterstone’s executive who runs The Friday Project, an internet publishing company, now bringing out its first novel, says: “My honest feeling is that that it is very unlikely to have any value as a book. Not in a snobby way — but I think it’s unlikely that people will want to read it.”

It is hard to disagree. Even an enthusiastic Penguin editor writes: “I find I can read in about ten-minute stints, which I reckon is pretty good considering what it's like.”

Novels do not necessarily flourish in the limitless possibilities of the net. Imagination needs discipline, boundaries and structure. In the wikinovel many imaginations were working at once, but not together. There are hundreds of good ideas and characters, but no coherence. Because anyone could contribute as much or as little as they wanted, too many added a little without thought for the whole.

More structured uses of the internet can work rather better, in particular ones where writers post early versions of their work to get feedback from experts and the masses. Charles Leadbeater, an author who specialises in studying innovation, posted his latest book, We-think, online, allowing readers to make changes and additions. On a site called youwriteon.com, supported by the Arts Council, first chapters are rated by readers. A professional criticises the top five each month, and once a year, the two most popular are published.

But the net’s complex networks of people with overlapping interests have revolutionised the way that we think, read and write. There is nothing written that people will not comment on, alter, produce their own versions of, write sequels to — or even attempt to subvert with banana themes. Such a proliferation of creativity may be weird sometimes, but it can only be good and exciting, too.

Competition

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.”

How would Pride and Prejudice have turned out if it had been a wikinovel? Use the comment facility at the foot of this page to submit your own second paragraph (limit length 1,000 characters) The best entry wins a bottle of champagne, we will contact the winner by e-mail.

THIS COMPETITION HAS NOW CLOSED.

Entry is conditional on acceptance of these terms and conditions

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