On what was a very rainy, windy evening, it was a joy to have author Nate Crowley, bringing a little joviality to his talk – Playing with other people’s toys: the pros and cons of work for hire writing. A talk which linked perfectly to his set brief:
Injecting as much pathos as possible, and with an utterly sincere tone, write a scene of emotional transformation set in the world of a children’s board game. 300 words.
Nate kindly provided a little feedback on all entries, which will be emailed by reply to each submission.
And the winners are…
First Place: Battleship by Damon L. Wakes
Second Place: Just Popping to the Shops by Jonathan Plummer
First Place: Battleship by Damon L. Wakes
This was a superb response to the assignment – the writer stuck diligently to the parameters enforced by the chosen IP, while still taking time to extrapolate realistic human consequences from them, and set meaningful narrative stakes as a result. I’d have been interested to see how much more of a grim payoff the writer might have been able to craft, given more word count to play with – there are the seeds of a real gut-punch there. Well done!
Nate Crowley
“E Five.”
The first mate relayed the order. A moment later, the deck guns fired. One more moment, and a white blip appeared on the tracking grid before him.
“Miss!” he reported.
“F Si—” The captain’s next order was interrupted by a deafening bang as a shell struck the bow of their own ship.
“My word…” breathed the first mate, staring at the devastation through the window.
“F Six.” The captain’s eyes were still fixed on the horizon. “Quickly now.”
Again he relayed it. Again the shot, the blip.
“Miss!”
There was another bang, louder than the first. The foremost guns were torn from their turrets.
“G Seven.”
“Captain, they have our position!”
“Then you had best be quick!”
The first mate relayed the order, and the guns fired once more.
A red blip. “Hit!”
But this time he could hear the howl of the incoming shell. The windows shattered as fragments of steel ripped through the bridge.
The captain picked his hat from the floor and dusted it off. “G… Six.”
“They are massacring us and you are guessing!” yelled the first mate.
“I will see their fleet destroyed no matter the cost! Now focus fire on position G Six.”
The first mate relayed the order and waited, trembling. The next salvo would be right on top of them.
Then… “Hit.” He turned from the screen to the captain. “We’ve sunk their destroyer.”
He had expected some small celebration. If nothing else, another order. Instead, he saw tears in the old man’s eyes. For the first time, he supposed, the captain looked about at the burning wreckage of their own fleet. He stared at the blazing red dots on the tracking grid, each one representing perhaps four hundred souls.
“My God…” he breathed. “It wasn’t worth it.”
Second Place: Just Popping to the Shops by Jonathan Plummer
This entry took an alternative tack to the winning story, but it was one I found really creatively satisfying – rather than mapping a largely realistic story onto the conventions of a game, the writer emphasised the unreal imposition of game rules on an otherwise mundane situation. The result was something genuinely unsettling that evoked the logic of nightmares, and gave an emotional heft to the premise of the POV character breaking out of their situation.
Nate Crowley
It was like a nightmare – one of those where your feet were planted in something that wouldn’t let you move them – tar, treacle – and yet you had to try to get somewhere… She ached to reach the greengrocer’s, but she seemed to move only one slow step at a time whilst her friends seemed to be able to run, or even fly – it was like she was moving in slow motion and they were all travelling at hyper speed.
One last chance. Just bananas to get and she would have everything on her list, but Ken and Susie were only a few steps away from all they needed. The tears started to roll down her cheeks in fat, hot globules. The frustration, the disappointment, it was too much. She felt like throwing all her other groceries on the floor and stamping on them.
Suddenly she found the will to move again. The gods had rolled the dice. She was almost at the door – now it seemed the others were moving slowly. She was there – the bananas paid for, she was on her way back, but Ken had also got everything and was just three steps from home. Suddenly he was there – the winner. She had been so close. The tears came again, this time in great wracking sobs that she thought must be heard for miles. Then, a calm came over her. What did it matter? Striving and working for what? A full basket and the boasting afterwards. Winning and losing suddenly seemed the same thing. It meant nothing really, they would all just do it again tomorrow. She would just go shopping and get what she needed, not bother with this ridiculous race. Life was too short. Let the others do it – she was going to move on with her life…
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