WHAT would be your specialist subject on Mastermind? It is a question I have long pondered and one that I have been mulling over again in recent days since the BBC revealed details of the new series of Celebrity Mastermind, which begins next weekend.

An eclectic and joy-filled list of topics awaits, ranging from Olympic silver medallist Roger Black laying bare his knowledge on the cult 1987 movie, The Princess Bride, to broadcaster Anne Diamond showcasing her expertise about the birth of British radar.

Sage agony aunt Maria McErlane will delve into the history of women on bicycles and Bargain Hunt antiques expert Roo Irvine is set to reveal her mastery regarding pedigree cat breeds.

Then there will be Emmerdale actor Anna Nightingale on the music of Oasis; comedian and ventriloquist Nina Conti on the short stories of Stephen King; and singer Amelle Berrabah, formerly of pop band the Sugababes, on the exploration of Mars.

READ MORE: Susan Swarbrick: Friends, Seinfeld, Sex and the City – are 'woke' worries spoiling telly greats?

Who knew that Jackie Weaver of Handforth Parish Council and infamous Zoom call ruckus was a big fan of sci-fi? Her specialist subject: The Chronicles of Riddick film franchise.

Other gems will include presenter Jean Johansson on Kylie Minogue, comedian James Acaster on the history of ice cream and – my particular favourite – former footballer Pat Nevin on the Jeeves & Wooster Stories of PG Wodehouse.

You can tell a lot about a person from what they choose to divulge when they settle into that big black chair and face a rapid-fire grilling by telly legends such as Magnus Magnusson, Peter Snow, Clive Anderson, John Humphrys or, in the show's latest incarnation, Clive Myrie.

The Herald: Clive Myrie hosts Mastermind. Picture: BBCClive Myrie hosts Mastermind. Picture: BBC

Some contestants are modestly clever and endearingly sweet, others are irritatingly try-hard or too cool for school. You can always tell who would be fun at parties. Choosing a specialist subject is like the window to the soul.

Niche eras and obscure topics rarely cease to delight. I have a colleague who says he would plump for Marvel comics 1963-1978 and another who reckons he could excel on the subject of Berlin's East German Motorcycle Museum 1949-1990. Both decent shouts.

As for me? It would probably be one of the following: the complete works of Jilly Cooper, Marian Keyes or Thomas Hardy; artistic gymnastics at the 1992 Olympic Games; the back catalogue of the Spice Girls; the tumultuous solo careers of the Spice Girls; or the history of Clyde-built liner Queen Elizabeth 2.

READ MORE: Susan Swarbrick: Am I becoming grumpy or is everyone very annoying?

Other subjects I could make a decent stab at would be John Hughes' movies 1983-1990, classic mondegreens (aka misheard song lyrics) and the wives of Henry VIII.

There was a point in my teens when I could have waxed lyrical on all things Tom Cruise, but other than a few random lines from Top Gun ("Maverick, there's a MiG on your tail!") and Cocktail ("Champagne – perfume going in, sewage coming out …"), the pertinent details have sadly faded over time.

READ MORE: Susan Swarbrick: Are you suffering from Covid hypochondria?

Perhaps the most illuminating part of this exercise is realising how much I know about some things, while making me acutely aware of the myriad subjects for which I have merely skimmed the surface. It's time for a new project. Adventures in tide tables and beachcombing here I come.

Our columns are a platform for writers to express their opinions. They do not necessarily represent the views of The Herald​