My quiz show memories? They're a bit like childbirth

I used to love watching celebrity special quiz shows at this time of year.

There was nothing like cosying up on the sofa to discover a ditzy soap actor was actually an intellectual whizz on The Chase; or that a lofty presenter was a closet dodo.

I say used to enjoy.

Then I took part in them myself.

From Mastermind to Pointless, the feelings come flooding back and I can’t look at them the same way.

It’s a bit like watching One Born Every Minute and finding it’s triggering flashbacks from childbirth.

The writer Martel Maxwell next to a quote: "I knew some homework could come in handy. So I researched landlocked countries of Africa, obscure British cities and practised anagrams."

I’m often asked what’s it really like to put yourself in the quiz show hot seat.

So, in case you’re wondering – or if you’ve ever fancied appearing yourself – here’s a rundown of how it went.

Mastermind: the quiz show of terror

First up, the most terrifying of the lot. Mastermind.

That black leather chair, the spotlight, the ‘duh-duh-duh-daaa’ music I’ve known since I was a kid.

With just a couple of weeks notice (I suspect someone dropped out) I was asked to take part and chose Freddie Mercury as my specialist subject.

I had no time to read anything so I listened to a biography on Audible during long car journeys while I was filming in England.

Freddie Mercury on stage. — So how much do you know about Freddie Mercury?

I’d watched host Clive Myrie’s coverage from Ukraine on BBC News in awe.

I think he’s splendid.

Alas, when my moment came the cliche turned out to be true. My mind went blank. My mouth dried up and my answers came out wrong.

The questions were tough. There was a lot I didn’t know, and all I saw on Clive’s handsome face was disappointment.

I let lovely Clive down.

I thought a fellow contestant was joking when she said she’d written a book on her specialist subject.

And she still only came second.

Clive Myrie on the Mastermind set. — Mastermind quiz show host Clive Myrie. Image: William Cherry/Press Eye.

I finished third out of four but my £3,000 fee went to charity so the Tele’s very own Help For Kids and Parkinson’s UK were the winners in the end.

Greek Gods and red faces – when quiz show nerves got the better of me

I’m rather proud of my performance on The Weakest Link.

Somehow I simultaneously managed to make it to the final – and humiliate myself.

I will never know how the host Romesh Ranganathan managed to keep a straight face when I answered the following question: “Complete the title of the following historical novel: The Girl With A Pearl…”

”Necklace?,” I spluttered.

"My mouth’s gone dry. My mind is blank. Everyone is looking at me." What it's really like to be on a tv quiz show. (It was also BRILLIANT fun) MARTEL MAXWELL column: https://t.co/bKEm8CHrYk via @thecourieruk #theweakestlink @RomeshRanga

— Martel Maxwell (@MartelMaxwell) February 17, 2022

Now, if you don’t know why that’s embarrassing, this isn’t the place to explain. And I warn you, don’t Google it anyone else can see your search history.

And let’s not dwell on which Greek God gave his name to the weak spot between the foot and the knee.

Everyone knows that one, right?

Your Achilles heel. It was on the tip of my tongue. For ages.

So why did I answer “Hercules”?

Romesh Ranganathan in The Weakest Link TV studio. — The Weakest Link host, Romesh Ranganathan. Image: BBC Studio/Alan Peebles.

Hercules.

Your Hercules Heel.

It might have aired months ago but I still myself chuckling (and blushing) at the thought of it.

Two out of three ain’t bad

Host Jeremy Vine was the highlight of my appearance on Eggheads.

He’d researched every contestant and barely looked at his notes when he asked the questions.

My main fear, as with every quiz show, was that I’d make a fool of myself.

I’ve realised, increasingly, that’s a real probability but I didn’t do too badly this time.

I chose the music category and got two questions out of three correct.

But alas, my team were beaten by the professionals.

Brilliant quiz show, brilliant people

I’ve written about my appearance on House of Games already.

I love the host Richard Osman. And I could see his interest was piqued when I got my very first question almost spot on.

You had to guess how many ‘roads’ – as in named roads, like Constitution Road or Commercial Road – there are in the UK.

Guesses varied from a couple of thousand to 50,000 to millions.

My guesstimate of 750,000 was – amazingly – very close.

It’s possibly because I’ve visited most of them to have a nosey around two-bed semis for Homes Under the Hammer.

Marrel Maxwell being filmed for the TV show Homes Under the Hammer, which she presents — Martel in her day job on Homes Under The Hammer.

Sadly, it was downhill from there but what a brilliant show.

And God bless actor Mathew Horne for taking pity on me and sending me one of his many prizes – a House of Games dartboard, which now has pride of place at home.