December 2011 theme and competition entries

[Tallyman 10]

December theme & competition: Christmas Present

Set by Greg2

 

There are many ways you might choose to approach this theme, not all of them festive, but I’d like to read about Christmas presents which achieve their intended effect.

 

Good luck!

 

TO ENTER: Competition entries of 500 words or less should be posted on this thread. If you prefer to write a longer story, outside of the competition, then please post it in a new thread with both the title and 'December 2011' in the heading.

 

JUDGING: Greg2 will judge the entries, and will announce the winner in early January.

 

THE PRIZE: The prestige of becoming the SFWG Competition Winner AND the opportunity to choose the writing theme for February 2012.

 

COMPETITION PROTOCOL: All writers enjoy receiving feedback, be it high praise or constructive criticism, but in the interests of competition decorum, please could we ask you not to post your comments on individual entries until after the winner has been announced. After that, please feel free to let rip with as much feedback as you like!

 

Any problems posting/uploading your piece, please consult the guidance 'stickies' at the top of the Forum page. If you still have problems, please contact either Tallyman or Ron Blanco.

 

Have fun!

 

Tallyman

[Ian Rivedon 10]

'Just Deserts'

 

You'll probably think I'm a 'fruit cake', and i don't blame you. I ****in' know I'm a fruit cake, but I'm lovin' every minute of it.

 

I've loathed the thought of that tosser, Daksy, since we were sixteen, and I've never forgotten him, not for a minute. He robbed me of Nora, the love of my life, and I've hated him ever since. The thing is, that was sixty years ago, but it could be a week ago. The hate has never diminished, not one little bit.

 

I'm losin' my marbles a bit now, I admit, but I still get out for a pint every day, without fail. That's how I met Daksy again. He's just been moved into the same flats as me. Sheltered housing it's called. ****in' hovels in my view, but I don't care. As long as I have me books.

 

Daksy's been livin' here for three years now, an' he still can't recognise me. He always were thick. Handsome, but thick. Tables are turned now. Nora's long dead, I'm sorry to say. I never stopped lovin' 'er. I never married, just screwed around, until I lost the urge, and the money.

 

I send Daksy a Christmas present every year. Have done since I found out he was livin' in't same flats. He never mentions it in't 'Three Crowns', but then, I don't think I would either. Unwrapping dog and cat turds can't be pleasant, even when they're wrapped in tinsel and covered in glitter.

 

IR 2011

[De Batz 10]

Considered as a gift, it might be the greatest of all. Perhaps it is impossible to appreciate its value. Even far removed from the original giving – if that is the right word – its significance, its power, its hold, all are growing. My gift is such that it can be given without reducing the giver, which is the origin of its incredible importance.

I had not originally conceived of this gift as more than a token, a sign of love rather than something of intrinsic value. But my gift has value both intrinsic, in that it makes mens' lives better, and extrinsic, in that as an object, a piece in itself, it is regarded by those same men as a great thing. It is not totally of my own creation, I admit, but I hold that I deserve more of the credit for its giving that those who might appear from the story that is told of its transmission to have the central roles.

Indeed, I did not conceive of the inspiration for the substance of this gift; it was given to me to pass on, but in my hands its worth was massively multiplied, not through any great addition – though obviously my addition is important – rather that the gift itself is insignificant without my efforts increasing its value.

What is my gift? It is difficult to say exactly what my contribution is. Imagine that a blacksmith designed a new way of fitting armour, which was inherently better than the old way, but was mistrusted by the warriors he served because the armour he built was lighter and thinner. They think that its protection is reduced, but he maintains that it is superior to that with which they currently gird themselves. It takes a brave man to be the first, but that brave man wears the armour into battle and survives a great blow from a terrible enemy. I am that man, and it is no exaggeration to say that were I a great king of men and had done such a deed, the blacksmith would not have as many soldiers asking for his wares as I have partaking of my gift.

I have no doubt that I shall be misrepresented by history, if history sees fit to treat of me. But no historian will give as great a gift as I. Their history may have the virtue of truth, but my gift has the greater virtue of being desired.

 

P

 

ES Trans QCC 1543. I have little doubt as to the identity of the writer. I cannot share my thoughts with the fellows, who will not understand.

[hazel 11]

The 11 o’clock call

 

 

One Christmas Eve as I recall

I met a man I didn’t know at all

A knock on the door the dream carries on

everyone’s fantasies rolled into one.

We both set aside our separate lives

And for a few hours were mesmerised

 

Both of us knew it could not last

Both enjoying the time that passed

A few brief moments out of time

Stay in my memory--- is it just mine?

Whether he thinks of it the same

Or perhaps to him it was only a game

 

The 11 o’clock call is all that is left

of moments of pleasure--leaving both bereft.

 

 

hazel

[mr_blue_owl 10]

A Grouch in the Grotto

 

Little Debbie who was a very talkative child to say the least, had reached the front of the queue at Santa’s Grotto.

She bounded up to Santa and climbed on his knee.

‘Well little girl what is your name?’

Debbie thought Santa sounded a little bored.

‘Deborah’.

‘Ooh! that is a pretty name I bet they call you Debbie for short?’

‘Yes, you are so clever Santa’.

‘And what would you like from Santa as a Christmas present?’

‘Well maybe a new Barbie Doll or Book of Fairy Tales’.

‘I see, anything else?’

‘Mmm maybe a new next door neighbour’.

‘My word that is a most unusual request, whatever is wrong with your current neighbour?’

‘He is all grouchy and mean, especially at Christmas time even when we try to help and offer to clear his garden and stuff, he just growls and chases us away. And when we went and sang Silent Night outside his window, he threatened to set his dog on us’.

‘Really why is he like that do you suppose?’

‘Dunno, he used to be quite sweet until his wife died a few years ago, it was around Christmas time I remember’

‘Maybe that is why he gets grouchy and mean at Christmas’.

‘Yes maybe but it is not like it is our fault that his wife died, I mean she was a really lovely person but now she is in Heaven’. ‘Anyway I heard he has got some temporary job in a department store somewhere, so at least we don’t have to listen to him being mean and grouchy in the daytime’. He reminds me of that Scrooge fellow I read about at school. You know something if you did not have that big bushy beard you would look just like him; your voice is almost the same as his too’.

Santa replied a rather subdued tone

‘Why don’t you give him one more chance?’

‘Ummm OK, why not? Thank you Santa’.

‘No, thank you Deborah’.

‘Santa, why are you crying?’

[greg2 10]

Many thanks for all your entries. Here are my comments:

Ian Rivedon – “Just Desserts”

I liked this crisp, direct, earthy story. By writing in the first person and avoiding abstraction you have produced something compelling, and much farther away from the South East than your Hertfordshire location – this is definitely Alan Sillitoe rather than the Bloomsbury group! I found the local accent convincing, and as I completed the last sentence I could smell the present. Your piece joins a number of recent entries which choose to come in well under the 500 word limit – interesting trend.

De Batz – Untitled

An enigmatic piece, which succeeded in making me reread it several times as I grappled with the twin questions of what was the gift and who was the writer. My current hypothesis is that the gift is an abstract quality such as beauty and the writer some form of supernatural being, though I remain unsure as whether their inclination is positive – a god? – or negative – a devil? Is this part of a larger piece, in which I would read on to discover more?

Hazel – “The 11 o’clock call”

Another piece which makes a few words count for a lot, again capturing a South Yorkshire feel. This simple telling of the classic romantic-encounter-which-can-never-last successfully gets the reader’s imagination working to fill in the details. We will each have our own version of the details, but the core story still ensures there is not a dry eye in the house. Perhaps a strand of this is autobiographical?

mr blue owl - “A Grouch in the Grotto”

An umph in the ending which caught me by surprise. It was only afterwards in nit picking mode that I thought Debbie was unusually articulate and insightful, and exceptional in remembering what happened “a few years ago”. Your writing demonstrated very effectively the power of dialogue to capture and hold our attention. And I always feel a proper story is coming up when I see some alliteration in the title!

As is often the case a strong field and a difficult choice, but my winner for December is Ian Rivedon for “Just Desserts” - congratulations!

With best wishes for a Happy New Year for all

 

greg2

[Ian Rivedon 10]

Greg2,

 

Thank you so much! I am really on cloud nine after an experimental 'punt' with my piece has achieved the objective. I have been trying recently to write in a more direct style, with little, or even no revision or editing. I wrote Just Desserts in little more than ten minutes and then resisted the temptation to change anything beyond obvious grammar, punctuation, and spelling errors. I have proven a very valuable point to myself, and I am grateful to you for your choice.

 

I would also like to say to the other contributors that I enjoyed all their pieces, too. I think the high standard of writing in the monthly competition provides an excellent challenge, and I hope that participant numbers increase during 2012.

 

Best wishes,

 

IR

[Ron Blanco 10]

Congratulations, Ian. That was very entertaining. And thanks for supervising an enjoyable competition, Greg.

 

Ian, it's interesting that you wrote your story in such a short time. Perhaps when we write quickly we tap into parts of our imagination that are otherwise hard to reach?

 

Regarding January's comp, I've not heard back from Mr Blue Owl regarding the theme, but I will post a competition by Friday, one way or another.

[Ian Rivedon 10]

Congratulations, Ian. That was very entertaining. And thanks for supervising an enjoyable competition, Greg.

 

Ian, it's interesting that you wrote your story in such a short time. Perhaps when we write quickly we tap into parts of our imagination that are otherwise hard to reach?

 

Regarding January's comp, I've not heard back from Mr Blue Owl regarding the theme, but I will post a competition by Friday, one way or another.

 

Ron,

 

The speed at which I write, currently, is part of the learning process at university where I am being encouraged to avoid excessive revision. Additionally, I recently read Jack Kerouac's On The Road, which I thought was brilliant. So brilliant, in fact, that I have ordered more of his books, and have also carried out quite a bit of research on Kerouac himself.

 

As you may already be aware, Kerouac was the chief proponent of 'Spontaneous Prose', and he—reputedly—never revised anything once he had committed it to paper. He defined his technique in a list of thirty intriguing rules, which can be found here: http://onr.com/user/icyo/rules/rules.htm. The rules provide an insight into the man. Quite a character, and a stunningly brilliant writer, too.

 

I'm trying to follow the thirty rules, but I admit to struggling with a few of them!

 

IR

[Ron Blanco 10]

That is interesting, Ian. Number 16 is my favourite.

 

I did an interesting workshop once. The tutor gave us the first sentence for our story and told us to start writing. At one minute intervals she would announce a (seemingly random) word that we must incorporate into the next part of the story. After ten minutes of scribbling the results were quite amazing. Even more amazing was that when I tried this writing exercise with my kids they really enjoyed it too, and were prepared to forego an hour of xbox time to write random stories.

 

My conclusion was that if you write really fast you stimulate the imagination more. I'm not sure if that is always true though.

[Ian Rivedon 10]

Yes, we did a similar exercise, and very interesting it was, too. The strange thing is, I've read loads of creative writing books, which usually have similar exercises at the end of chapters. I tried doing a couple and found them irksome. When in a formal class, doing the same exercises with others, it is very stimulating and useful. Moral is—forget books, attend creative writing classes!

 

IR