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An author is enlisted to “consult” on a Hollywood adaptation of his novel, only to face up against a spoiled starlet, a substance called WAT-R, a Ballardian landscape of fire-fringed highways and a conspiracy worthy of “Chinatown.”

Nudibranch by Irenosen Okojie Okojie, who is also judging this year’s NSSA, has an extraordinary imagination: from time-travelling monks to Ballardian islands, these stories show you things you’ll have never seen before.

And if you couldn’t be Dylan Thomas walking through Basildon town centre, you could still be Depeche Mode – who came from the town, and were doubtless shaped by its Ballardian landscapes.

Majestic, reflective and sung in a subdued style for Madonna, this meditation on fame with a Ballardian reference in its title soars quietly and gorgeously.“I had so many lovers/Who settled for the thrill/Of basking in my spotlight,” float her words, without emotion.

The Square turns a contemporary art museum into a city-state of bizarre, dysfunctional and Ballardian strangeness.