February 2012 theme and competition entries

[Ron Blanco 10]

February 2012 theme & competition: Coming Clean

Set by Ian Rivedon

 

February is the month of St. Valentine's Day, which is overused and overhyped, so I'm going to ignore it. Instead, a semi-religious theme in that the first day of Lent falls on February 21st. Pancake Day is how most people identify with Shrove Tuesday, but as well as devouring pancakes, it is an opportunity to deny one's self something for Lent, and to confess one's sins. So! This month's theme is 'coming clean about something'. Five hundred or less words on 'getting something off your chest', for better—or worse!

 

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 'February 2012' in the heading.

 

JUDGING: Ian Rivedon will judge the entries, and will announce the winner in early March.

 

THE PRIZE: The prestige of becoming the SFWG Competition Winner AND the opportunity to choose the writing theme for April 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!

 

Ron

[Allo1010 10]

Speaking the truth to One's self

 

1/3/1857

When writing, often does it feel like One is self-indulging One's self. Writing also seems daunting when faced with the vast expanse of others' literary works. How could my own book compete with those many others? What makes it worth something?

Progression, my friends. It is with progression that new entrepeneurs publish their work in the hope of tasting the sweet nectar of success.

 

And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you my new novel; consisting only of one page.

I call it, "L".

 

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 

2/3/1857

 

Goodness gracious me! It seems that I drank far too much last night! I must have gone mad! Mad, with pretention!

 

It pains me to have written that last entry. I feel as if I should disassociate myself with it. It is not mine! I do not want it to be mine! But alas, I did write it and it is mine, which will consequently cause my death. The reason? The rules of the "Anti-Pretention in Literature Society" are clear. "If One should indulge in the pretentiousness of contemporary work, their life... is forfeit."

And by God, I will not live in forfeit!

 

These words will be the last written in my diary, as once I have reached into my drawer and taken the gun that resides within it, I doubt I will write more.

 

Goodbye.

Edited February 22, 2012 by Allo1010
Needed a bit more l's

[Lady Agatha 10]

The Lapse

 

I’ve been here long enough to know better. Long enough to know that everyone would be touched by my infantile actions. How could I do that to my children? People would ask that of me if they knew what I had done. I ask myself the same question and I’m not sure what the answer is. I suppose that there are many contributing factors when a person succumbs wholly to their desire. My actions that afternoon were those of a woman intoxicated. Not by drink or drugs, but by self-loathing and an overfamiliarity with a dreary Tuesday. I momentarily thought that this would be the solution. As I stood in my clean kitchen eyeing up my prey, I collapsed into my senses, letting them annihilate my rational thought processes.

 

I sat at my kitchen table and I ate those four Easter eggs, one after the other, contents included. I didn’t even have a drink. I left my children without Easter eggs. My husband had to go out and buy replacements that we couldn’t really afford. They were disgusted with me. But not nearly as disgusted as I was.

[greg2 10]

THE DRUMBURN SHRINE

Cathy was still growing up in Drumburn when the Provost of the town announced that the Virgin Mary had appeared across the river from the new car park. The Provost had issued a Press Statement, with the enthusiastic support of the local Catholic priest Father O’Callaghan, and had even been interviewed on TV. Father O’Callaghan was subsequently summoned to discuss his behaviour with the Bishop, but by then a momentum was already building behind the story. Two evenings later Cathy was lying beside the river with her right arm in the icy black water tickling a trout for tea – this is a boy’s job, but Cathy is an Amazonian huntress, while her brother Jimmy is bookish and ineffectual, so Cathy did the fishing – when a huge beam of light shot over her and across the river.

Drumburn then was a quiet place, the smallest town in what was the smallest county in Scotland. There had once been sheep on the hill behind the town, however they had been moved down the valley as they had disturbed the peace. But now the construction teams were arriving. At the centre of the plans, just a few feet from where Cathy was lying, was to be a Visitor Experience Center in which visitors, pilgrims indeed, could relive the moment of the apparition. There were also to be hotels, shops, a new and much larger church for Father O’Callaghan, and behind a screen of trees, industrial units producing Shrine of Drumburn memorabilia – Cathy’s mother had been pleased to get a job in one of these units. Down the valley, at the first available stretch of what could be made to be flat land, an airport was under construction, with a runway long enough for a Jumbo jet, because there was already a confidence that the faithful of several continents would be visiting the Shrine in considerable numbers.

Cathy herself worked briefly in one of the Shrine’s shops. But once she qualified she moved up the valley, and there isn’t much now to identify her with Drumburn, apart from the plastic tree trunk on her windowsill from which an illuminated Virgin Mary emerges if you press the button on the base.

I was round at Cathy’s one evening – I can’t remember on what pretext – when she suddenly confessed

“I knew it wasn’t true about the Virgin appearing across the river from the car park. I should have said something at the time. I knew it wasn’t true because the Virgin always appeared to me in the trees up the hill, where the sheep used to be.”

I made some excuse and left. I still think Cathy is a great girl, but I’m puzzling what to say about appearances of the Virgin Mary.

[De Batz 10]

23 August, 1556

 

My dearest Achilles,

 

I am at Jerusalem. I came here to find solace in God, as I have travelled to the end of the world and still I do not find her. Now I have come to the holiest place and I do not find him either. God does not speak to me, though if He listens to my prayers I wonder that he can hear them without acting. I begin to question, to cast around in my own history for a clear sign that God ever did have a part to play. I did not think, when they said 'atheist', that they were right. Perhaps they are. As my belief wanes, so does my trust in Him. God does not bargain thus, though. It seems that whatever promise I make is so much wasted breath, whether I merely promise to take Communion more regularly or, as I have found myself doing in the deepest despair, swore my oath to take holy orders should I find her hale and sound.

 

Whilst I have not discovered where she is, she cannot just have disappeared, nor could she have allowed herself simply to die. I cannot credit that her will is not strong enough to have kept her alive. After I – we – swore to protect her, it seems that it has fallen to her to ensure her own safety. I curse the fact that after all we did to save her, that now she might be in the hands of some slave trader or pimp, but I won't allow myself to believe that she could let it happen. She of all people has the wit and the strength of mind to stay free. Does she not? I shall travel again, though I do not have inspiration of where now to go in my search. I fear that Providence is not my friend, but that shall not prevent me trying.

 

I hear of the blood that flows. I would that I could discuss it freely, but I fear to condemn you should this be read. I hope that you avoid it, but as ever I counsel that you temporise and, if you must, dissimulate for all that you are worth. Do not die for a cause that is not worthy of you.

 

Pray for her, and for me. Ask our friends to pray likewise. Know that you are in my thoughts.

 

Mentor

[LFT1 10]

Coming Clean

 

I almost managed it. I thought, just five more minutes and I’m home and dry. As soon as I registered the words, I realised the game was up.

 

I wasn’t going to get away with it. That left two options. Construct a tissue of lies to cover my tracks or come clean.

 

It only took a split second to decide. The stakes were too high. If I was found out, my world would come crashing down around my ears. Life would cease to exist in the format that I so wanted.

 

I had to cover my tracks. So, think. Make a list.

1) Witnesses. Who could know? Good start.

2) Albi. Where / who would cover? No, not who – that requires implicating others and would open weaknesses in the strategy. Right, where and why. Must be plausible.

3) Umm. Oh yes, cover your actions. Hmmn.

List seems to be complete. Now I need to address it.

 

Ok, firstly witnesses. So, who could have seen me? I stopped in the garage on the way there. That means George saw me. He wouldn’t think anything odd though, it’s Thursday and I usually fill up before the weekend. Did I buy anything else, anything remarkable? No, just some chewing gum. That is also a regular purchase so nothing out of the ordinary.

 

Secondly alibi. Right, so as George saw me I had to be headed somewhere north of the city centre. Hmm. I’ll come back to that.

 

Thirdly. Cover actions. So, if no-one knows where I’ve been, what I’ve done, does that mean it didn’t happen? If a tree falls in the forest……

Maybe I never did it. If I can convince myself it was not me, that I couldn’t have been there because I was … checking out that new gym. No, not the gym. They’ll have cctv and the receptionist would remember a new client. Maybe.

 

Library? Cctv unlikely to be working. Lots of people pop in and out all the time without checking anything out. Hang on, I’ve overdue library books beside the bed. Why didn’t I renew them, even if I’d forgotten to return them? Library is no good.

Got it. TK Maxx. I go there all the time. It’s full of people coming and going. No-one would know who had been. I often come out with nothing after an hour or so. Perfect.

 

So, I spent the afternoon in TK Maxx after filling the car up. I got back around 4.45. That’s what I did. No one saw the tree fall.

 

Let’s see now, he’ll be home in 15 minutes. What shall I be doing? Snoozing. That’ll give me time to give hazy answers until I’ve completed my internal brain washing. Thursday afternoon at TK Maxx. Nothing bought. Tried on loads of expensive outfits.

 

Right, I’m prepared.

 

“Hello Hun, had a good day?”

 

“Uh, sorry I was just dropping off.”

 

“No problem. I’ll jump in the shower and we can have a chat later.”

 

“Uh Dave, before you go I need to tell you something. I wasn’t in TK Maxx today. I was at the hospital. I’ve had a scan. I’ve lost the baby”

Edited February 29, 2012 by LFT1

[Tallyman 10]

Thank you to all who took part in the February competition. Ian Rivedon will cogitate, consider and ultimately determine the winner this month, and will announce his decision in this very thread. Once he's announced the winner, if anyone has any feedback, comments or suggestions regarding any of the contributions in this thread, please feel free to post them. Constructive feedback is always welcome!

 

Tallyman

Edited March 1, 2012 by Tallyman

[Ian Rivedon 10]

I'm cogitating already, and results should be posted during tomorrow.

 

IR

[Ian Rivedon 10]

Thank you to all who took part in the February competition. Ian Rivedon will cogitate, consider and ultimately determine the winner this month, and will announce his decision in this very thread. Once he's announced the winner, if anyone has any feedback, comments or suggestions regarding any of the contributions in this thread, please feel free to post them. Constructive feedback is always welcome!

 

Tallyman

Allo1010

I admire adventure. I wish I could be more adventurous than I am. I would love to have the bravery to challenge the status quo, but unfortunately I am a coward. Unlike me, however, Allo1010 is brave enough to explore literary concepts that other, meeker beings can only shake their heads in disbelief. Well done Allo1010, a masterpiece of invention.

 

Lady Agatha

As an ardent follower of George Orwell, I admire any writer with the bravado to say what needs to be said, and nothing more. In general, Orwell’s opinion was that that any sentence, or paragraph that could be shortened, should be shortened. Lady Agatha’s short story says exactly what it needs to say, with not a word wasted. In doing so, the character is so acutely defined that she actively repulsed me. Good writing.

 

Greg2

I think that the 500-word SWG limit poses quite a significant challenge upon writers in defining scene, character, or plot. Greg2 managed to achieve all of these in a delightful story that I enjoyed reading, and enjoy re-reading.

 

De Batz

As usual, De Batz has submitted a wonderful piece that demonstrates a literary and historical mastery beyond doubt. That anyone would go to such lengths in contributing to the monthly competition is an indication of how good the standard of writing generally is.

 

LFT1

This was a really good story that grabbed me from the first sentence. The seemingly insidious subterfuge really had my mind working overtime, and the ending left me stunned, to say the least. I needed to take a few minutes to take in the ending. A very good story.

 

 

There’s only one winner, unfortunately, but that is the way of competitions. Lady Agatha wins this month, because her story is so neat and precise. The characterisation, with the use of virtually no adjectives, and so few words is just very, very good. Well done. My good wishes to all the other participants. Three cheers to you all!

[Lady Agatha 10]

Thank you very much! I didn't know if people would think that I was just being lazy - but actually it was quite difficult. I wanted to make it very concise because I think that in that kind of situation, you wouldn't go all around the houses.

 

I'll start thinking about an April theme then. Easter bunnies anyone? Well done to everyone - the competition was stiff.

[joiner andy 10]

Speaking the truth to One's self

 

1/3/1857

When writing, often does it feel like One is self-indulging One's self. Writing also seems daunting when faced with the vast expanse of others' literary works. How could my own book compete with those many others? What makes it worth something?

Progression, my friends. It is with progression that new entrepeneurs publish their work in the hope of tasting the sweet nectar of success.

 

And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you my new novel; consisting only of one page.

I call it, "L".

 

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

 

2/3/1857

 

Goodness gracious me! It seems that I drank far too much last night! I must have gone mad! Mad, with pretention!

 

It pains me to have written that last entry. I feel as if I should disassociate myself with it. It is not mine! I do not want it to be mine! But alas, I did write it and it is mine, which will consequently cause my death. The reason? The rules of the "Anti-Pretention in Literature Society" are clear. "If One should indulge in the pretentiousness of contemporary work, their life... is forfeit."

And by God, I will not live in forfeit!

 

These words will be the last written in my diary, as once I have reached into my drawer and taken the gun that resides within it, I doubt I will write more.

 

Goodbye.

 

did you by any chance wright the novel "o"?

[Allo1010 10]

did you by any chance wright the novel "o"?

 

Not yet, I'm still working on it. Right now the novel feels a bit- round and I want to get something sharp. Will update once I've finished it!