In Case of Emergency Please Notify: Jet Hunter
Webook's latest release is the brilliantly hilarious Teen/YA diary-style novel
by Sarah Szabo
One of our editorial staff discovered Sarah when she posted a link to Jet Hunter on the WEbook forums. We were all immediately hooked and couldn't wait to get Sarah on board with us - luckily she was just as excited as we were and the next thing you know, In Case of Emergency Please Notify: Jet Hunter had become our newest WEbook!
We had a chat with Sarah about her writing background, how she came to create, Jet Hunter, and her involvement with WEbook over the years...

"Writing fiction was a true joy because I had
no other agenda other than to create something funny. Call me shallow, but for
me humour is the highest art form and not easy to do well (I was brought up in England so I blame that
- you need maximum comedy in a cold weather climate).
"As a journalist - I’m more influenced by
Hunter S. Thompson and Clive James than Woodward and Bernstein and as for fiction, well I hope to be buried with
Evelyn Waugh’s, Decline and Fall. Read a
little something from, The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, for a eulogy and I am done. I like to laugh - is that wrong?"
*****
"I learned
all I needed to know about life from Nigel Molesworth (Geoffrey Willans);
Adrian Mole (Sue Townsend) and perhaps a little from Bridget Jones (Helen
Fielding). Nigel Molesworth and Adrian Mole, in particular are standouts for me
because the humour works whether you are 12 or 49. I read these books as a teen
and I still reread them now. The humour is timeless and ageless - it is just great
comedy. The fact that they all happen to be in diary form is a coincidence, and
the fact that my fiction is in diary form - no coincidence at all. I wanted to
write a teen humour book with crossover appeal to adults using great comedy
writing technique.
"In Case of Emergency Please Notify: Jet Hunter, is a product
of all my comedy influences stewed and steamed over the course of my reading
life and concentrated in the form of one, beautifully self obsessed, casually
cruel and philosophically blunt contemporary female teen. In other words - your
average teen. I was one myself once and I have a couple of younger Gen Y
siblings who provided much inspiration in the self obsession department. (They are delightful - really).
"No teen’s
life is complete without a major pop-culture crush and I wrapped a narrative
around that to give the format some momentum and to inject a little satire
about contemporary culture. If at any time you laugh out loud while reading it
or even titter - I have done the job I set out to do."
On Sarah's involvement with WEbook...
"The WEbook
site came to my attention some years ago (under previous owners). At the time WEbook
was running a peer voted competition to find a publishable work, I entered
this manuscript and received
overwhelming support from other WEbookers, which was a prize in itself. I went
on to win the competition and got some great feedback from WEbook management
who loved the work, but felt I needed to develop the manuscript further before
publication.
"To cut a long story short -
it took me a while to do so but it was necessary. Along the way WEbook died,
and I went on my way reworking the manuscript in my own time (my own sweet
time). After a few ups and downs, false starts and reworkings, I shoved it in a
draw. Later I took it out, reread it - laughed - and thought: ‘Bugger it, I’ll
publish it myself.’
"Somehow I found myself back on the new WEbook site and
remembered all those past WEbookers who told me they loved it too. I left a
message in the forums about self-publishing it, wondering if anyone remembered
it.
"I’ve come full circle back to this forum of supportive fellow writers and I
couldn’t be happier."
Sarah's, In Case of Emergency Please Notify: Jet Hunter is available now from the WEbook Store in hardback, paperback and and digital ebook format.
Read on for an exclusive preview:
***
Day 251.05 p.m.
Shelly rang this morning. I told Mum to tell her I wasn’t home. When we were at the movies she hinted that she wanted to come to the all ages gig tonight but I’ve my reputation to think of. Rang Nicole. No one home. Texted her. No reply. Her phone battery must be dead. Went to skate park. Not there. Went to library. Not there. The Phat Fonies are playing so I know she’ll want to go. I bet Danny will be there. There is something I wanted to ask him about the value of X when Y is something or other (I’ll look it up before I go).
2.10 p.m.
Just rang Shelly’s number. She isn’t home. Texted her. No reply. Her phone battery must be dead. I’m extremely annoyed.
4.15 p.m.
The phone rang while I was doing some pacing exercises in the hall. I like to pick it up by the third ring because Dad told me once that it’s a good business principle. As I was rounding the kitchen entrance, Mr Paws appeared in the doorway and I jumped over him, skidded on the kitchen floor, connected with a hand dumbbell that had been left lying on the floor and kicked it through the glass door cabinet with the fine china in it. It was Gran on the phone. Something about forgetting where she had put her keys. I couldn’t hear her over Mum carrying on about her Royal Doulton and how much it cost. I reminded her that it was her hand weight, and as she spun around, she dropped the matching saucer to the cup that had just been broken. I won’t record for posterity what she said – just file it away to tell the school counsellor next time I need to get out of school.
4.30 p.m.
Mum is sending me round to Gran’s in a taxi so that I can help her find her keys. She’s in one of her ‘pre-menopausal moods’, as Dad calls them. She says she’ll pick me up in an hour. I’ve asked her to man the phones while I’m away.
***
Day 2810.50 a.m.
Had a breakfast revelation after reading the ‘phun philosophy’ on the back of the cereal packet. What I need to do is forget the hideous shortcomings of everyone around me and focus on developing my own talents in order to maximize my personal potential
Have decided that I would like to become a competitive surfer, earning mega prize and sponsorship dollars and gaining the admiration of the wider community in general and the surfing community in particular. I know it won’t be easy but I love a challenge. The hard
part is deciding whether to go custom made (e.g. retro flames, lifesize portrait of Jet) or off the rack (classic stripe). The easy part I’ll hand over to Dad – cash or credit card. Can’t wait for Dad to get home. Told Mum all about the new me (said imagine world champ surfer Layne Beachley, except with my head and Beyoncé’s body). She said she can’t wait for Dad to get home either.
5.45 p.m.
Think I hear Dad’s footsteps coming up the front steps. I’ll meet him at the door to ask him about his day, make him a cup of tea just the way he likes it (made by someone else) and ease into a discussion about maximizing one’s potential and the millions of dollars in sponsorship money being thrown at women who can shoot the curl, rip through the tube and chill out in the green room. Kowabunga! (Note to self: must find out exact location of the green room.)
5.50 p.m.
7.00 p.m.
Decided to get a wider perspective on the issue. Nicole thinks Dad is like really a gnarly lameass (skate slang meaning crap parent); Shelly thinks Dad is way off (ballroom dancing slang meaning little or no parenting skill); Alexandra-Rhiannon thinks that Dad is preoccupied by capitalist accumulation at the expense of lifestyle; Gran has offered to knit me a surfboard cover and someone called IAMHot4U on the surfinchiks internet chatroom thinks that Dad should chill out and support his spunky daughter in her sporting endeavours, particularly when she probably has a hot body and wears a bikini.
7.45 p.m.
Found out that the surfinchiks have a chapter who meet at my local beach at 6 every morning during the school holidays. There is an open invitation to females of any age to turn up and be taught the basics of surfing (surfboard not required). You go girls. Who needs to be under Dad’s grimy masculine thumb, begging for crumbs from his overstuffed wallet while he grows grotesquely fat on the domestic slavery of his miserable female chattels (Germaine Greer, The Female Unicorn).
8.05 p.m.
Dad says he’s happy to get up at 5.30 a.m. to run me down to the
beach. Sexist swine.
- 07:58
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