So here's Chris to talk about the play:

Chris Wilson
I write about horse-racing for a living. I spend my days producing copy from exotic locations such as Pontefract, Catterick, Redcar, and Thirsk. It is a fun job, but far removed from radio drama.

That was until both worlds somehow collided last summer when I won the Alfred Bradley Bursary Award. Playing the Game, my monologue for radio about a teenager struggling with hideous acne, received a handy wedge of cash and, more importantly, the likelihood of a BBC radio commission.

Perhaps correctly deemed unsuitable for Radio 4 - the play begins with Andrew Logan, my protagonist, masturbating in his bathroom - Playing the Game was happily commissioned for The Wire on Radio 3. Last month I was invited by my producer/director Pauline Harris to attend the two-day recording of Playing the Game on location in a quaint terraced house in leafy Chorlton, Manchester. This, as they often say on the telly, is my story.

Beginning
After winning the Alfred Bradley, I stupidly thought my play was in the can. An untouchable artefact simply awaiting a few jazzy sound effects and the pre-pubescent tones of a talented young actor. Look out BAFTA, I thought, I'm coming for you next.
Reality, of course, offered a reassuringly more balanced view. Under Pauline's diligent eye, several rewrites were required. Although most of the revision involved fine-tuning, crafting a 'more believable' ending proved slightly more arduous. As did the transition from monologue to a more conventional four-person drama. This was at first daunting. Breaking up what I considered a masterpiece - ahem - was a bitter pill to swallow. It soon became clear, though, that it was utterly the right decision.

Then came the request to change the play's title from Playing the Game. This is something I expected. Playing the Game sounds like a day-time TV quiz-show fronted by Noel Edmonds, rather than a coming-of-age drama. That said, some have suggested the new title, Lump-Boy Logan, could easily be mistaken for an extra in Captain Pugwash, so I guess it's a matter of opinion.

It should also be mentioned that the final, final draft and title change were not completed until only a few days before we were due to begin recording. This required plenty of last-gasp soul-searching - especially as I was due to get married that very same week.

Day One
I arrived 'on location' - I'll never grow weary writing of that - at 10am prompt. Pauline, the two SMs, Paul and Celia, and production coordinator Sarah were already ready to roll. As were William Rush, who plays Andrew, Annette Badland (Auntie Jeanette) and Smug Roberts (Dad). Pauline delivered a briefing over coffee and away we went. Or should I say away they went. My role, while everyone else worked their nuts off, was essentially a voyeur.

The morning was spent in either the kitchen or the dining room recording scenes featuring Andrew, Auntie Jeanette and Dad. My brief was to watch, observe and pass critical comment when appropriate. So enamoured by all of the performances, I brought little to the table other than an awkward thumbs-up here, or a faux-knowledgeable nod of the head there.

What immediately struck a chord, however, was the reliance upon sound. Being a radio drama, that is hardly a hold-the-front-page revelation. But for the complete novice - that would be me, then - I was blown away by the dedication to audible authenticity. I had envisaged radio FX to basically consist of a bored pensioner from Altrincham stomping through gravel, banging together coconut shells and playing a kazoo. How eyewateringly wrong I was.

Among the labyrinth of props used to provide genuine sound effects included - a silver fish knife, a squash ball, a football, an Avon magazine, salt, soda water, a chocolate flapjack and schoolchildren.

The fact it took around twelve takes to accurately portray a silver fish knife being thieved from a kitchen table perhaps speaks volumes as to how 'the crew' - I'll also never tire of writing that, either - strive for realism for the sake of the script and the medium.

A mid-morning break was followed by wild-tracking - a romantic term for backing audio material - of Annette and Smug performing as angry spots on the side of Andrew's neck. I am not sure whether Annette or Smug have played angry spots on the side of a young boy's neck before, but they pulled it off without once shooting me a look of "Were you on drugs when you wrote this?" That said, they probably knew what lay in store for them after lunch.

Without wishing to reveal too much, Smug and Annette were forced to aggressively simulate the prevention of "keeping the wolf from the door", as Alan Partridge once famously said. While all this hoo-haa was erupting, Will's task was to crawl on his hands and knees with a pair of football boots in his hand. I was stood in the corner, laughing. Once it all started happening, as it were, Pauline then asked them to do it again and again. I cannot be sure but I suspect this was not why Will, Smug, nor Annette wanted to get into the business.

With Jeanette having soon departed - it was because she had finished all of her scenes, I promise, and not due to utter disgust at my prose - Smug and Will then recorded a clutch of 'intimate' scenes together before Will did some monologue-type stuff in the bathroom. It all seemed to go swimmingly, but rarely without at least a few takes. My slap-dash approach would have happily allowed everything to slip under the radar after one bash.Thankfully, Pauline is a professional.

I was knackered by around 4ish, even though my one significant role all day was to remove some rogue Blu-Tac from a bedroom wall. Having been at it full tilt since 10, heaven knows how Smug and Will were feeling as we made the transfer to the local park in Chorlton to record some football-related stuff. This was great fun and provided my long-awaited return to acting (critics still laud my performance as the Cowardly Lion in Hessle High School's ground-breaking production of The Wizard of Oz in 1991). I, along with Pauline, played the over-eager parents shouting from the touch-line. I thought I nailed it with comedic whooping-and-a-hollering. Smug said I sounded more like I was a sheep-herder than a football fan. I am unsure whether my dramatic comeback will make the final edit.

We finished at around 7ish. I was tired, but pretty knocked out by the madness of it all.

Day Two
Will and I arrived five minutes late. Pauline was restrained, but non-plussed. I blamed my sat-nav, which seemed to take me via Aldershot. Will blamed the fact it was his 16th birthday. His excuse was better. With Smug's scenes tucked away on tape - or is it CD? I never found out - the majority of the day revolved around Will/Andrew monologuely stuff, recorded in the bedroom, bathroom and living room. The accent was very much on tone from the outset. Will needed to continue to effect the persona of a teenager who was three of four years his younger. With such a welter of lines to prepare, allied to a host of dramatic sequences, it cannot have been easy - especially when the whole shebang was literally disrupted by outside influences.

Shortly after lunch Will was recording the final scene of the play outside. It is obviously quite an important passage of time. Sadly, and through no fault of the actor, it took several takes, adding over an hour to the day's scheduling. The problem was noise. We needed solitude, we got the Omaha landings. Kids screaming, a Boeing 747 overhead, a persistently niggling wind-chime, and a leviathan of a reversing delivery truck were all culpable towards the tricky production of the final scene. With most of us now resigned to a plague of locusts set to invade the back garden, Will finally soldiered on without distraction. His relief was fleeting.

I won't dive into the nitty-gritty of the opening masturbation scene, only to remark that Pauline's dedication to audio authenticity was not carried through on his occasion. That's not to say it didn't sound genuine, at least to my knowledge.

Life got much easier for poor old Will following the arrival of Stephen Hoyle, who plays Big Smiggy. After having recorded a bunch of wild-tracking - Stephen also played an angry spot on the side of Andrew's neck - we loaded the wagon down to St Bede's Catholic School. Being of Waterloo Road fame, a number of students flocked around Will in pursuit of his autograph. He later confessed he disliked being in such an awkward situation. I'm not sure I believed him.

St Bede's very kindly provided us with a group of school-kids who re-enacted being in an art class, from where Andrew loses the plot somewhat and throws a wobbler when goaded by Big Smiggy. The kids were brilliant and helped create a genuinely empathetic environment. We stayed at the school for an hour before heading back to our pad in Chorlton, where a few final bits and pieces with Andrew and Big Smiggy were laid down.

And that was it. The adventure was over. A few farewells and thank-yous later and I was on the way back to Hull to prepare for my wedding, which was then only three days away. There was a huge crash on the M62, however, which meant a two-hour journey became five.

I could not have given two hoots.

The End

Lump-Boy Logan is due to air on Saturday, September 18. At time of print, the final edit has yet to be completed. Pauline is hopeful it will sound "fresh" and "new". My negative inner monologue is merely hoping to avoid utter catastrophe. Whatever happens, the experience has left me energised. For that being the case, I will always be grateful to those responsible for bringing my words into existence.

The wedding also went well. We are still together.

Chris's Biog
Chris started with West Yorkshire Playhouse, and was selected for the BBC writersroom/Royal Court 24 Degrees scheme where an early draft of Playing the Game had a reading at the Court. The script won the 2009 Alfred Bradley Bursary Award. The biennial award was set up to commemorate the life and work of Alfred Bradley, the distinguished BBC Radio Drama Producer and encourages new radio writing in the North of England, in collaboration with BBC writersroom and Radio 4. Previous winners include Lee Hall, Mandy Precious, Peter Straughan and Mark Shand.

A note from the Producer/Director - Pauline Harris
Chris Wilson's play centres on unusual territory - an adolescent boy's struggle with severe acne. It's a bold, funny, disturbing and poignant play. The central character, Andrew, hears his spots or lumps speak to him; they are a destructive force and appear to thrive on his anxiety. The original play was a monologue but I suggested to Chris we might want to open the play out a bit, so whilst retaining the basic content and narrative, we vocalise the spots and we hear them as Andrew hears them. We dramatise his father, and 'Evil Auntie Jeanette', and the bullying Big Smiggy too. But a great deal of the monologue still remains intact. Chris has now got a Radio 4 commission for an Afternoon play, I Before Bee, a comedy about Spelling Bees, due for broadcast in 2011.

William Ivory, writer of Minder, Common as Muck, The Sins, and The Invisibles will be in conversation with Kate Rowland, BBC Creative Director of New Writing, about his work and his new film, Made in Dagenham.

William will be talking in Central London on the 29 September 2010. Find out more and book your ticket for William Ivory.

On the 19 October 2010, Heidi Thomas will be speaking in Manchester. Heidi has written Cranford, Madame Bovary, I Capture the Castle and Lilies. She is currently working on a new version of Upstairs, Downstairs.

Find out more and book your ticket for Heidi Thomas.

Cheryl Taylor is the BBC's Controller, Comedy Commissioning.

Rebecca Lenkiewicz and Sebastian Baczkiewicz talk about writing for radio.

Tony Basgallop talks about writing Worried about the Boy for TV.

Kevin Cecil talks about his new sitcom The Great Outdoors. (And again, with different words, on the Comedy Blog.)

Mark Gatiss talks about the genesis of Sherlock.

Here's the list so far.

Robert Jones, writer of Lennon Naked

Mike Bullen, writer of the pilot Reunited (and Cold Feet)

Rufus Hound, comedian and writer/perfomer of CBBC show Hounded

Jane English, writer of The Secret Diaries Of Miss Anne Lister

Steven Moffat on Doctor Who

Kay Mellor on A Passionate Woman

Neil Cross on Luther

Matthew Graham on Ashes To Ashes

Ben Evans, the producer of Money

More than 240 professional writers descended upon the Leeds College of Music for two days to listen to the likes of Stephen Butchard discussing his painstaking research on Five Daughters, Matthew Graham talking about the difficulties of ending Ashes to Ashes, Tony Marchant arguing against biopic culture, and Adam Curtis explaining why most TV drama is rubbish.

We had a packed schedule, with three streams running simultaneously most of the time, so there was always something to do.

Many thanks to event curators and advisory board Tony Marchant, Jack Thorne, Alice Nutter, Toby Whithouse, and Stephen Butchard who helped to choose and shape the event, ensuring that it was an open, honest platform to explore what it means to be a writer in 2010, to appreciate how programmes are made, and to understand the craft, art, and business of writing.

Of the ten shortlisted plays, six - including one of the three winners - came via the BBC writersroom opportunity page.

The three winning plays are:

"Man of Straw" by N. Cowell
"Click" by Jan Perry
"We that are Left" by Peter Harrison

Applicants must have a broadcast credit or commission. Please make sure that you tell us about your work when you apply.

The closing date for applications is 12:00midnight on the night of Monday 21st June.

Applications received after this date will be put on a waiting list in case any places become available.

If your application is successful your cheque must arrive in the office by last post on Thursday 24th June to guarantee your place.

If you're not sure whether or not you're eligible, drop us an email at writersroom@bbc.co.uk and ask!

Pulse by Paul Cornell

Stanley Park by Leo Richardson

Newsjack is the BBC's open-call topical comedy show, and that means anyone can submit material. The deadline is Monday noon for sketches (starting this Monday, 14th June), and Tuesday 5pm for one-liners (starting on Tuesday 15th June).

The Red Planet Prize, this year in collaboration with Kudos Productions, is a competition with a top prize of £5,000, a guaranteed script commission from Red Planet Productions, and representation. They're looking for a 60-minute script which can either be a single or the pilot for a new series, and the deadline is 31st July.

Coming Up is a talent scheme from Channel 4 and Touchpaper TV. You'll need a 60-page script as a sample of your writing and a two-page pitch. The prize is a guaranteed network broadcast, and the deadline has been extended until 18th June.

The scheduled sessions so far include:

Poacher turned gamekeeper
Toby Whithouse, Tony Jordan, and Alice Nutter talk about the balancing act of showrunning.

Writer for hire
Nicola Shindler and Sally Wainwright on how to get your original work on screen.

Fact to fiction
Philippa Lowthorpe and Stephen Butchard on adapting true stories.

Whose voice is it anyway?
Tony Marchant, Jed Mercurio, Mark Catley, Nicola Shindler on whether writers have lost the initiative.

You can find more on the festival schedule page, which will be updated as more sessions are confirmed.

More information about the festival.

Joanna Bolouri for Lewd Awakenings
Rebecca McFarland for The Madam of Morningside
Rob Drummond for Early Release

The Executive Editor Comedy, BBC Scotland, Jemma Rodgers said: "We were absolutely delighted not only by the volume of entries we received, but also by the quality. There are some very talented unknown writers out there, but in the end we could only pick three winners. Joanna, Rebecca and Rob's scripts all have a real spark to them, and capture contemporary Scotland in very funny and original ways. We're very much looking forward to working with all three of them to develop their scripts further."

She talks about filming the series - and the differences between that and being on the set for Mamma Mia! over on the BBC3 blog.

You can watch Dappers online from tomorrow on on the BBC3 blog, or on BBC3 on Thursday 10th June.

You may want to watch the show first - spoilers ahead.

There's one scene in the pilot script of Pulse that myself and producer Helen Gregory went back and forth on many, many times. It's right near the end, when Hannah is confronting Nick in the hospital corridor. James Hawes, our director, had scouted the building he wanted to use, and told us that there was a 'laundry cage' of some kind in place, to give Hannah somewhere she could hide in, but where Nick couldn't get at her. Emotionally, the scene takes Hannah from fearing her ex-boyfriend to fearing for him. But the problem was, it's the site of our exposition. Pulse is a medical thriller, and Hannah is right at the heart of it. It's her journey, through the episode and the series. This is the point where she, if her quest is to mean anything, has to learn something about the dark goings on behind the scenes at this NHS hospital.

There's a reason Michael York's character in the Austin Powers movies is called Basil Exposition. Exposition stops characters being characters, and makes them into simple voices for the production. The audience can always hear the gears changing, and character receding so they can be told 'what they need to know'. Sometimes, for instance in crime series, they quite like that. And these days, the reluctance to offer any exposition at all means the audience is sometimes starved of logical moments that they actually need. But nevertheless, the reluctance is there for a reason: exposition brings plot to a halt too. It's the point where characters talk about stuff that's not actually happening to them, that's about the past, or the future. And they usually stay put to do it too. Aaron Sorkin, being the kind of genius that can write shows that are all exposition, had them walk down corridors at high speed while they did it.

So, in the process of going back and forth, we worked out exactly what we needed to tell the audience to let them know what the format of the show was. That there are going to be different medical horrors every week, not just the same one repeated, that Nick wasn't happy with where the project was going, which plays off nicely against his expressed feelings elsewhere, and exactly what this week's horror was, the solution to the mystery which Hannah's been investigating, the prize she deserves for heading into danger to try and find the last element to solve that. What got cut back and cut back were the hints Nick gave about the nature of the conspiracy, of what's really going on in terms of the greater picture. We can put those in next week, or the week after. We can place them as exciting discoveries. We don't need Nick to explain himself now, when terrible things are happening and our heroes are talking against the clock.

To sort through that was a great exercise in itself, to cut exposition back to the minimum, and then to cut again. Be ruthless with your cutting: I think that's a good motto for our show. I hope that enough people watch it, and make enough noise about it, so we get a full series.

While you're waiting, Leo Richardson, creator and writer of Stanley Park, talks about his aims and inspiration for the series here.