Month: January 2024

  • Adrienne Dines: Storytelling and Imagination

    Report by Sarah Noon

    Adrienne is a great friend of both Hampshire Writers’ Society and the Winchester Writers’ Conference. Her latest book, due out in 2024, is called Storysmith, The Craft of Storytelling for Writers and explores the writers’ craft. She has worked in all manner of places, from schools to high security prisons and delivered talks at a variety of conferences. She is here today to talk to us about the art of storytelling.

    Adrienne shares with us how she began giving talks about writing after meeting Barbara Large at the Writers’ Festival. She tells us how Barbara was about to start interviewing Adrienne when a man “…threw his arms around me and shouted ‘Thank God you’re alive.’” It transpires that he had witnessed Adrienne get her skirt caught on the door of the Tube and did not know what had happened to her. This, Adrienne tells us, was when Barbara declared, “Oh, I think we’re going to be friends.”  Although already an English teacher, Adrienne credits Barbara with encouraging her to teach the craft of writing and storytelling.

    Over the years, she tells us, she had collated so many notes, she felt she needed to put them together and define “what exactly is the craft of storytelling made up of?” She gave her manuscript, Storysmith, to an agent, and she reminds us that you then wait “…as long as you need.” She goes on to clarify, “…because as long as they have it, they haven’t sent it back,” urging us never to give up hope, “That’s one of the rules.”

    Adrienne’s book is written in seven sections. She is focusing this evening on the beginning of it. It concentrates on the confidence to begin and the confidence to keep going. She describes the writer’s process as “bipolar.” Writers can be full of ideas and positivity one minute and full of despair the next.  “…I would get more money if I were stacking shelves in Waitrose …”.  Reminding us that “Writing doesn’t pay.”

    Adrienne explains how we need to value our imagination, “It’s at the heart of everything we do.” Her first three books were published very quickly. She describes this as “terrifying.” She goes on to tell us a story about going out for dinner with “John and Margot.” Margot was a magistrate and talked about this throughout dinner. It was during coffee that she finally asked Adrienne what she did for a living. The fact that Margot had not heard of Adrienne suggested that Margot believed Adrienne was “A figment of my own imagination.” She said to Adrienne “You must have a very big imagination.” She tells us that she “… still has no idea…” as to whether she was insulted or complimented by that. However, Adrienne tells us that Margot was right; storytellers do indeed need big imaginations.

    Big imagination, she says, is not about “loads of stuff coming out of it…” it’s about “…loads of stuff going in.” She compares her brain to her husband’s – a mechanical engineer. Their brains work in very different ways. At this point, she puts a sieve on her head! She describes the sieve as her imagination. Everything she experiences goes into the sieve.  However, because it is a sieve, not everything will stay in there. Many things go through the holes (“white noise”) but some things (like Margot) will stay.  Those things, she says “…compost down, and become the rich soil from which we develop our stories.” She also recalls an early HWS meeting in The Stripe where the writer PD James (then in her 90s) was asked how she could “…write murderers” because she was the last person one would expect to be able to understand the mind of a murderer.  She replied “…every murderer’s rage is my own.” Adrienne explains that this is how it works with storytellers. “Every emotion that will appear in the stories that you write, has to be your own.” It’s about knowing and feeling the emotion as a writer. She describes a fine line where the writer is not purely making it up because the emotion is there already.

    How do I want my character to feel at the moment?  This is what we should ask as writers, when we are struggling. Adrienne advises us to take the emotion and “…make it bad, make it worse, then make it personal.”

    The second part of Adrienne’s book is about “…telling lies for a living.” Adrienne describes how she met someone who was writing his memoir. He was not interested in “telling lies.” Adrienne’s response was “There’s more truth in fiction than there is in memoir.” Memoir writing is very subjective. She goes on to explain that actually she is talking about authenticity rather than truth, 

    At this point, she pulls a story out of her imagination (the sieve!).  She tells us about an incident when she and her sister went to a school reunion. Although the school itself is no longer there, three paths remain that were originally part of the school. These were known as Hell (the lower path), Purgatory (the middle path) and Heaven (the upper path). Adrienne and her sister stood on Purgatory and discussed when they stood there as children.  Adrienne described it as her ‘prison’, but her sister described is as her ‘nest.’ “Which one of us was telling the truth?” says Adrienne? It is all about point of view – which stems from how one is feeling at any given time. Adrienne advises that if you are struggling with a story, change the point of view.

    To illustrate this, Adrienne gives the example of Little Red Riding Hood. She asks us to retell the story – which, of course, we all know. She then asks us to consider the story from the mother’s point of view.  “A woman who won’t go and see her ailing mother and instead sends her daughter – it’s about mothers and daughters.” She points out that the “psychopathic” mother sends her own daughter through a wood where she knows there is a wolf – and if that isn’t irresponsible enough, she dresses her in bright red.   

    The next part of Adrienne’s book looks at plot and emotional arc. She explains to us the difference between our inner critic and inner editor. “The inner editor is always your friend, the inner critic is not.” Adrienne tells us that her inner critic is “Sister Mary Pious” and she holds aloft a small wooden figure of her. Sister Mary once asked Adrienne what she wanted to do with her life, and on telling her she wanted to be a writer and storyteller (or Shanachie) was told, “The idea was ‘ridiculous.’ However, now that Adrienne is doing what she always wanted to do, “I bring her with me and make sure to mention her”. Our internal critic, she tells us, comes from inside our head. It is this voice, she claims, which instructs us to do our displacement activities (ironing, emptying the dishwasher etc.) rather than “checking that chapter that just isn’t working.” She advises us that we need to make our inner critic work for us. But, she warns, do not talk to them too early.

    She compares this to creating a recipe and making a mess in the kitchen – we may use every pot, pan, and ingredient in the kitchen to see how we can come up with our desired flavour. This is our first draft – it is a “dirty draft,” (Stephen King also talks about this).  Adrienne urges us to think about Michelangelo and a piece of marble. She tells us that until the marble exists, there is nothing to chip away at (the editing process). The danger is to allow the critic to stop us before we have written the story. Another way that we allow our inner critic to hinder us is to continually check that our previous chapters are perfect before we carry on with the next bit “It’s called procrastination.”

    Crime writer Meg Gardner, Adrienne tells us, when writing her first draft, would frequently have big gaps in her story where she would jot down what needs to happen, and just keep going with her story. This meant “…her first draft was very patchy and had loads of holes…” but the structure was very clear – something which Adrienne reminds us can be incredibly useful.

    Adrienne has been kind enough to judge our competition entries this month, and she explains that some of the entries were, “…beautifully written” but had no emotional arc. Cue another story.  This time about her middle son, Tom. When he was nine, he hated sports, “…because he never understood the rules.” However, on this occasion, he participated in an obstacle race. Adrienne describes Tom’s fear as he was lined up with the other pupils, and he spots the penultimate challenge of the race … the buttoning up of the shirt! Tom hated buttoned shirts. Adrienne advised him to not think about it and just run towards the finish line and “…it will be fine.”

    She continues to tell us the story in great and amusing detail, ending with Tom managing the buttons on the shirt and winning the race.  The point of Adrienne entertaining us with this story is that this event changed Tom. The story has emotional arc – Tom goes from a probable loser to a possible winner and then finally a winner. She urges us to consider the point in our stories where our character changes. She suggests that this is where many people have not quite worked out why the character changes or what makes them change (the peak of their emotional arc).

    Adrienne goes on to address structure. Where do you start? Do we front-load or end-load? Do we structure our story chronologically? She encourages us to consider how the story might change if we begin at a different point. This may be a useful strategy if we are struggling – try to turn it on its head and restructure it.  She explains that some writers are plot-led, and generally find front-loaded stories easy. Some writers are more character-led. She suggests writing the events of our story in chronological order and then changing the order or considering how one event affects the other.

    “Stories have to have an effect,” we are reminded. Stories need to have a message.  Adrienne continues, “Every moment in your life that touches you, changes you.” It is these changes, she suggests, that make the scenes work. A useful thing to do is a memoir sheet for characters, with things such as their age, the places they lived, the people who are important, words, events, sayings and lessons learned. Adrienne tells us that the memoir sheet can be a good way to address issues within our writing.  The elements can be included throughout the course of the book. By creating these sheets for characters from the beginning to the end of the book, the points at which a character has changed become the chapters.

    Adrienne finishes her talk telling us a final story from when she was a teenager.  She had worked over the summer and therefore had some money to spend.  Her mother had said that she could spend the money anywhere she liked “…as long as it wasn’t The Ritz!” This was a greasy-spoon cafe “…full of undesirables.” She went there anyway, and met and fell in love with Fergus Donnelly. She tells us how she and some friends would go on a Tuesday, when her mother was out shopping. She goes on to explain how they she would sit opposite Fergus Donnelly on a plastic seat in a booth and they would share chips and a coke. She then introduces us to the character of Catherine Ivy who was overweight, explaining how as she was leaning across the table, unwittingly exposed her midriff which Fergus promptly poked.  Adrienne was horrified, but Catherine put him in his place in front of the others, telling him “…that’s MY flesh, and YOU aren’t allowed to touch it.” Adrienne tells us that in that moment, everything changed and Fergus Donnelly became “Catherine Ivy’s cast-off,” and Catherine became “…an object of desire…” for the rest of the summer. Catherine Ivy, Adrienne tells us, has been her heroine ever since – inspiring a her book Toppling Miss April.

    I suspect that Adrienne could have regaled us with many more stories, but we ran out of time.  She is a fantastic storyteller (or Shanachie) and her talk was both entertaining and inspiring.

  • The Joy of Editing with Jill French

    Report by Sarah Noon

    Jill used to be an English teacher, has been a freelance editor for fifteen years, and is here to talk to us tonight about the joy of editing.  She is a member of the Chartered Institute for Editing and Proofreading. She is frequently asked about her role, and works with many debut authors. As well as talking about her experiences as an editor, she will also be giving us information about self-editing.

    Jill begins by explaining the several different forms of editing. The ones that Jill generally undertakes are developmental editing, copyediting and proofreading – “Not all editors do all of those”. She shows us an example of some editing she has done – a piece of typed text with handwritten words and symbols over it. She asks us to consider which one of the three types of editing it is.

    The first type of editing which is usually carried out, Jill tells us, is developmental editing (or “structural editing” if the manuscript is non-fiction). This is done early in the writing process.  She explains it as big picture editing and focuses on what we might expect to see for the genre, the expectations in terms of word count etc. Developmental editing also concentrates on the themes of the piece.  Here, she gives us an example of a manuscript she edited where there were fifty-eight pages, but the theme and its conventions was forgotten during the story. She reminds us that the theme has to run all the way through, but that authors sometimes lose track of them – not seeing the wood for the trees. A beta reader or an editor can help with this Jill advises, however, she does not recommend using a relative or close friend to assist with developmental editing as they are unlikely to be truly honest and objective.

    Developmental editing also concentrates on plot.  For example, Jill explains, there should be a clear character transformation within a romance genre. This gives the reader the “happy ever after” that they would expect.  Additionally, with characterisation, the writer should show that the hero or heroine has flaws. We are reminded that a successful protagonist requires growth. A developmental edit would also identify whether there is there too much information (“info dumping”) as this can effect pace. Dialogue and dialect also forms part of the developmental edit.  Jill explains that editors need to check for consistency as well as a balance between the dialect and phonetics, and ease of reading. There is also a danger, Jill warns us, of over-use of dialect becoming offensive.  She tells us that “…delicate conversations have to be had.”

    Jill advises that any writer paying for an editor needs to be clear what to expect in terms of feedback. For Jill, once she has completed a developmental edit on a manuscript, she usually follows up with Zoom call, telephone conversation, or written report for the writer (“the deliverables”). There is often “…a lot of tact involved,” She says. Using Tracked Changes in Word has become invaluable to many editors, (“These days we don’t do much on hard copies”). An editor may need to train the writer with this.  However, once this is done, Jill points out, the collaborative process becomes easier. There are things that should be negotiated before hand – such as double spacing.  Does the writer want each inconsistency or error pointed out, or is the writer happy for the editor to simply correct them as necessary.  The author and editor will often have an agreed, bespoke style sheet, agreeing such things as OK / ok / okay, or which form of English (US or UK?). The style sheet is continually updated throughout the process. Jill tells us how much she enjoys this, telling us that “This is the sort of thing that writers could embrace.”

    Jill talks about how some writers love editing (she gives Claire Fuller as an example). However, whether they like it or not, all writers have to edit and self-edit. She recommends that writers look at editing training or read about editing, even if they are not planning to become an editor, as this can help writers with their self-editing skills. The Publishing Training Centre offers several courses. Aces – US editing society is also worth exploring, especially non-fiction.

    Copy editing, Jill tells us, is often the main type of editing that writers want done. It often allows the writer to get on with the more creative processes. This comes once the developmental or structural edit is out of the way.  It includes spelling, punctuation, grammar, style etc. Conscious language use, she explains, is “…much more of a thing now.” Writers may use terms that are no longer appropriate for modern readerships. This can be a particular issue if writing a historical novel – the editor will work with the writer to ensure that words used would not offend a modern audience. Other copy-editing tasks may include chopping down long sentences, pointing out over-use of words or certain types of punctuation (Jill advises using the find and replace feature in Word to help identify this issue). Finding things like this is “…like finding a fossil on a beach,” to Jill.  As well as correcting errors, copy editors will also query character traits, plot holes, weak arguments etc.

    The final stage of editing is usually proofreading.  Gill reminds us that “…with writing comes proofreading.” She tells us that – “some writers love proofreading, others don’t.” Traditionally, copyediting is marked up in blue pen and proofreading is marked up in red pen. With proofreading “…you are looking for all the things that are left.” There should be only a few changes to be made by this point as it is near the end of the editing process. Proofreading should be a direct comparison between what author has written and what the typesetter has supplied.  Jill tells us that despite this, there is a lot of variation these days and there are times when proofreading is really more of a copy edit.  This is especially the case with the introduction of self-publishing.  With proofreading, the editor should be seeing for the first time, what the reader will see. These will include such things as widows and orphans (when there may be large spaces on a page).

    Reflecting back on the last 15 years, Jill says she has edited over 2 million words a year for dozens of authors. She tells us that writers are a lovely group of people to work with and she enjoys working with them. They are, she says, a group of people who want to develop their craft and want to better themselves.  

    She shows us a quote from Ursula Le Guin, which demonstrates this:

    “A writer is a person who cares what words mean, what they say, how they say it. Writers know words are their way towards truth and freedom, and so they use them with care, with thought, with fear, with delight. By using words well they strengthen their souls. Storytellers and poets spend their lives learning that skill and art of using words well and their words make the souls of their their readers stronger, brighter, deeper.”

    Jill says that “…if I can help get their words out there and get their novels out there, it really is a joy…”

    She enjoys collaborating with authors and meeting with other editors. She attends conferences, which she admits she did not used to enjoy in her previous careers, but does so now. Groups and organisations of which she is a member include the AIP, Society of Authors, and the CIEP. Membership of these enables Jill to “…network with like-minded people” and participate in CPD (Continuing Professional Development) opportunities, such as proofreading and copyediting courses. The conferences, Jill says, have led to many discussions. For example “…endless…” ones about AI and whether it has taken the place of editors. How much of a threat is AI? Have we been taken over? (“We haven’t yet, which is great.”)

    One of the guest speakers at a recent conference was writer and comedian Robin Ince who stated “…you can never have too many books.” Something that Jill tells us she was “…delighted…” to hear. He also advised that rather than getting distracted with such things as Wordle in the morning, we should take five minutes to read a book instead. He argued that authors have put a great deal of thought and care into the words they have chosen and that five minutes reading them is much better than “…looking at another cat with goggles on…”

    Jill goes on to discuss self-editing, recommending several books that might help the self-editor. One, by Richard Bradburn – Self-Editing for Self-Publishers and another; The Art of Editing in the Age of Convergence” by Brooks and Pinson. This is now quite old, but highly recommended by Jill.  She recommends several other books as well.

    So, where do we find an editor? There are many available and they all have different areas of interest. Jill shows us a slide with various directories we can access – all from the organisations she mentioned earlier.  She urges us to use them and tells us that the people listed take editing very seriously. 

    Jill leaves us with her email address, and I know many of us will want to follow up on the invaluable information she has given us this evening.

  • February 2024 Competition – Psychological Thriller

    Brief: Follow storyblocks link below. Listen to the thriller music samples on the first page and select a piece of music or sound effect which inspires you to write a 300 words psychological thriller piece. 

    storyblocks

    Deadline: Midnight on 25th January, 2024

    Adjudicator: Dai Henley, Crime and Thriller Author

    Winners will be announced at our 13th February 2024 meeting; online and in the newsletter thereafter.

    For full competition guidelines, please read our competition rules.

    Good luck!

  • Ekphrastic Collage – January 2024 competition results, adjudicated by Dr Kane Holborn and Antosh Wojcik

    Members were very lucky to have two adjudicators for our January 2024 competition – our two speakers Dr. Kane Holborn and Antosh Wojcik. A wonderful new challenge was introduced by the poets in the form of ekphrasis. Both were very generous with their time and thoughts throughout the adjudication and feedback process.

    Ekphrasis definition: the use of detailed description of a work of visual art as a literary device.

    Introducing the task, Antosh said: “We’re going to broadly approach this type of writing. I see ekphrasis more as ‘creating a new piece of work from an existing work’ – so this prompt is slightly broader than the definition of the process.”

    A detailed brief was provided as follows:

    You are invited to write and submit an Ekphrastic piece of prose fiction, poetry, non-fiction or short essay.

    1. Choose three works of existing art. They can be from different artists or the same. They can vary in medium – you could choose a song, a painting, a film etc.
    2. Write a piece that draws from all three works.
    • You could use the piece to comment on the works.
    • You could write in response to the tones or the atmosphere of the pieces.
    • You may choose figures within the work to narrate or feature within the work.
    • You may derive settings from the soundscape/landscapes presented.
    • You may use the three pieces as transitions – i.e. Vignettes drawing on each work, poem sequences etc.
      All approaches welcome.

    300 words for prose.
    10-20 lines for poetry.

    Antosh and Kane were both extremely generous with their time and thoughts on their winning entries. Both were agreed on the top three, but each chose their own highly commended recipient.

    And the winners are…

    First Place: The Piano Has Been Drinking at the Fountain in the Garden of Earthly Delights by Syd Meats

    Second Place: Roche Court by Sam Christie

    Third Place: I am Iago by Geraldine Bolam

    Kane’s Highly Commended: Bedlam by Sarah Standage

    Antosh’s Highly Commended: Please Do Not Propose by Francesco Sarti


    First Place: The Piano Has Been Drinking at the Fountain in the Garden of Earthly Delights by Syd Meats

    Delightful, leaping, irreverent verse! The poem reads as though we are shot through the ages of contemporary art, explosive and riotous with its explorations of image and undercutting of those images. The title does its dues to set up the concept and tonal resonance of the ensuing piece. I clapped upon reading. A riot of a read, superbly composed, well done!

    Antosh Wojcik

    I feel as though I’m in a gallery, observing sculptures and paintings as I read your work), (in particular, The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymous Bosch) and this feeling emerges from the word go. Your poem mirrors the vigorous activities taking place within the painting. You throw image after image at your reader, assaulting their senses. From the juxtaposition of freezing rivers and cities on fire, you continue your fanciful poetic assault into your second stanza, not even giving us time to breathe. And this was what drew me back to your poem. Sublime madness at its finest! Methinks you are a Surrealist painter in disguise, masquerading as a poet. Job well done.

    Dr Kane Holborn

    The piano has been drinking, it staggers through its nightmare 

    from the left side of the triptych, where the duck-head man is reading

     to the music of the buttocks played by instruments of torture. 

    And it frolics in the garden, riding unicorns and donkeys, 

    feeding strawberries and cherries to the bathers in the lake. 

    And the rivers are all freezing on the far side of the water 

    and the cities are on fire, 

    and the water is a bloodbath, and the rabbit bears a stretcher. 

    And the piano has been drinking in the stomach of the tree-man 

    and the giant bird-head monster makes a feast of all the corpses, 

    and the demons need urinals in the shape of Duchamp’s Fountain. 

    The piano has been dancing its four-legged wooden waltz. 

    And you can’t find your artwork at Grand Central Palace 

    and it hates you and the gallery, and you can’t find the toilet 

    and the porcelain’s an artwork and R Mutt has signed his name, 

    and the newspapers are scathing, and the critics have retired. 

    The piano has been drinking, it’s a sculpture ready made. 

    The urinal has been drinking, not me, not me, not me, not me, not me.


    Second Place: Roche Court by Sam Christie

    In any ekphrastic work, a sense of place can be a powerful writing tool in
    conjuring the ekphrastic and you have eloquently framed your experience of a visit to Roche
    Court supremely well. I especially loved the way you brought your poem to a close as this is often a delicate space to write within. But your trio of rhetorical devices offered me a refreshing perspective which brought your poem to a satisfying conclusion. Bravo.

    Dr Kane Holborn

    A playful, dazzling poem, balanced in its introspection and leaps into the abstract!

    I love a bold opening line; ‘They say I’m a sensation…’ It does the work of lighting the fire for the reader when the title is so quiet. What follows is this deftly considered, musical verse that purposefully drifts into the various named works and sensations.

    Antosh Wojcik

    They say I’m a sensation, 

    Though now I walk down from the ha ha 

    Following Richard Long’s bone flint Tame Buzzard Line, 

    Tapering towards the second life oak. 

    In the Orangery my work hangs 

    Among a tinkle of glasses and low frequency reverence. 

    These canvasses are not of the grey ashtray weep of Mosul, 

    But the proud, infinite Nineveh Plains. 

    I’m shoulder to shoulder 

    With van der Beugel’s DNA squares. 

    Though my code is in sand and the rumble of F15s,

    His has settled as glass gallery reflections. 

    Belonging

     Rolling green 

    Do they need me with them 

    As living, breathing context? 

    Am I also the art 

    As well as the artist?


    Third Place: I am Iago by Geraldine Bolam

    It’s wonderful to read a work that is confident in its fusion of form! Part-essay, part-poetic-prose, part-review, the reader is invited to navigate these various figments of Iago and reflect on the core themes of Shakespeare’s great work. I think it’s innovative to reach to such a text and bring its context into different life/light through the work you have selected and the vignette form gives this piece a sense of fluidity through time. I recommend building further on this work!

    Antosh Wojcik

    This piece is an interesting beast of creative writing because it treads many grounds in terms of genre. Is it a poem? Is it something else? I didn’t know. At times, your poetic lilt bled into the realm of review and, subsequently, nonfiction. But your piece was refreshing in that it had no discernible genre.

    From ceramics at the V&A to Oliver Parker’s adaptation of Othello, you push the envelope and broaden the dimensions of your piece whilst maintaining your central theme: inspiration from the visual in a variety of forms.

    Dr Kane Holborn

    I am Iago. I am the mastermind of plot and subterfuge, the fulcrum at the centre of Shakespeare’s play. The Bard has given me immortality and my character has been endlessly speculated upon, my motives fully considered. “Demand me nothing” I had said. “What you know you know.” With the passage of time, I can be more helpful, but let art be my voice and your guide. 

    Let us start by looking at a piece of ceramic sculpture. The piece is Iago and Othello by Cyd Jupe. It is figurative, a wall piece of stoneware crank and red iron oxide. We are depicted as human heads, and I am whispering in Othello’s ear. It is a typical moment that captures our precious trust and intimacy. It reminds me of the time I discussed with Othello “Green Eyed Jealousy” and seeded some wisdom. Now let us consider a film. 

    How about Oliver Parker’s adaptation of Othello? He places me as a central witness to the action. There I am situated behind doors, peering into scenes, or hidden, all the while watching. The Director is masterful, look at the ingenious use of the chessboard anchoring my vital role. Some might say that it is Othello and Desdemona who are the chess pieces here and that I am the master operator. That is for you to decide. 

    So let us move on and try Othello the ballet by the American Ballet Theatre and the San Francisco Ballet. In one pivotal scene, we are returning from battle and the sailors are stretching and attaching ropes in preparation for docking. There are two groups of rope but within each group, tangles, and twists till they form an absolute web. 

    What I know about webs or being caught in one, I understand little, but I can say that the music is cleverly composed. The notes do not follow a straight line either but are equally discordant, complex, and twisted. I am simply entranced. 


    Kane’s Highly Commended: Bedlam by Sarah Standage

    I am a lover of poetry that leaps off the page and which is up the wall, and your work certainly achieves this. Your engagement with Louis Wain’s psychedelic cats is quite evident through your zany use of language. I enjoy how the theme of mental health is mirrored against and through Wain’s visual work as an ekphrastic device within your poem, which enlivens the themes at work. Bravo!

    Dr Kane Holborn

    A kaleidoscope of vibrant red, bright blue, xanthine yellow 

    cuts a scanned slice of neurological matter 

    or 

    Louis Wain’s cat? 

    Disappointment, fear and fury 

    picks up the razor 

    severs his ear 

    paints a self-portrait. 

    Strabismus dwarf squats 

    midst the Bruegel-type landscape 

    as the patricide axeman

    advances through the melee. 

    Genius or madman?

    Creative talent oozes while 

    Incarcerated in the asylum of the brain. 


    Antosh’s Highly Commended: Please Do Not Propose by Francesco Sarti

    Antosh’s Highly Commended: Please Do Not Propose by Francesco Sarti

    I was really taken with this work of flash fiction, which drops the reader so carefully into a considered, almost spiralling moment for the narrator. The works that influence the text are neatly embodied, even though they are disparate, the structure of the piece holds and draws such interesting colours and imagery from the art pieces. A quiet, vulnerable storm of a piece. Well done.

    Antosh Wojcik

    Inspired by: Casa Batlló by Antony Gaudi (Building), The Hateful Eight by Quentin Tarantino (Film), The Gruffalo by Julia Donaldson (Picture Book) 

    We enter the liquid corridors with squeaky shoes, rain bouncing on the scaly flooring, and this UNESCO World Heritage Site, this marvel of wavy walls and whirlpool ceilings is my refuge from a snowstorm, deep in the mountains, carrying a convicted murderer waiting to be hanged. We go up, almost floating, submerged by the tropical windows like schools of poisonous fish. Jody is in a rush to get to the dragon-like roof; but I delay him. I linger for unbearable stretches over the seahorse-shaped doorhandles and the azure crystals of the elevator’s buttons. That roof seems designed to spill blood. Blood can channel through the dragon’s ribs and tail, flushing inside a building with no straight lines, no corners, flowing freely over every feature better than a Roman aqueduct. Once on the roof, how will I know if someone’s hiding under my feet? Someone ready to snatch a shot from below—a deadly angle—right when I’m most vulnerable? As we ascend, like bubbles in wine, I remind Jody of his former girlfriends. The allergy-prone fox. The tired owl. The starving snake. He says our love would scare them off. But now I look at him: a grey, small, innocent mouse who survived a snake, an owl, a fox, and I wonder what he sees in me. I wonder if he’s got a pathological fascination with terrible tusks, and terrible claws, and terrible teeth in terrible jaws. I stare at this tiny rodent getting on one knee, right on the back of a dragon, on top of a house made of oceans, and I am terrified.

  • Storytelling and Imagination – December 2023 competition results, adjudicated by Adrienne Dines

    Novelist and Creative Writing Tutor, Adrienne Dines, had members laughing with the funny stories she shared during her talk on storytelling and imagination. Adrienne

    Write a 300-word piece of creative writing, taking inspiration from any of the following prompts:
    Season’s turn
    That one small light
    When you said

    Adrienne very generously took the time to speak with each competition entrant who attended on the night, and give them feedback on their entries.

    And the winners are…

    First Place: Butterflies by Julian Richardson

    Second Place: Just In Case by Francesco Sarti

    Third Place: Books by Sam Christie

    Highly Commended: That One Small Light by Damon L. Wakes


    First Place: Butterflies by Julian Richardson

    Well crafted, used dialogue and setting to move the story forward along both the plot line (building up to the bust-up), and the emotional arc (when he realises what’s lost after the last butterfly is turned).
    ‘peppery with the smell of ozone’ – great sense of place. Not just where it happened, but working as a character in the story. Loved the pacing in this too.

    Adrienne Dines

    The new fridge arrives on Monday. By Thursday, we’ve sunk into an unpleasant morning routine, bickering about it in the kitchen.

    “When you said it was big, I didn’t think you meant…” Angela points at the refrigerator, looming like a giant silver robot in the space where the dog bed used to be.

    “You wanted it!” I complain.

    “I didn’t mean this one!” Her eyes and mouth are narrow slits. I turn away and face the fridge. The installer left a row of colourful magnetic butterflies stuck high on the shiny metal door. I turn one around so that its little metal antennae face the floor. The three to its left already face down; the three to its right, still look optimistically upward, oblivious to the consequences of future arguments. What will happen when we reach the end of the row?

    “Are you ignoring me? David?”

    I do ignore her. I’m not stupid enough, or brave enough, to fight when she’s like this.

    I open the fridge. A wave of cold air flows over me, peppery with the smell of ozone. The glass shelves, half empty, are still clean, except where our son, Alex, has left a ring of chocolate milk next to a plastic-wrapped leg of lamb.

    Alex has a football game today. Afterwards, we’ll have a big dinner: roast lamb, potatoes, brussels sprouts cooked the way only Angela knows. A glass of wine, or two. Once, we might have snuck to bed early, and crossed our fingers that Alex wouldn’t hear us over his video games. Not today. Not this week, this month.

    But the roasts are really good.

    I look at the row of butterflies. I can’t imagine turning the last one.

    “We don’t have to keep the fridge,” I say.

    “Let’s give it a few more days,” she replies.

    “And these?” I pull the magnetic butterflies off the fridge.

    “They’re hideous, aren’t they?”

    I nod, and toss them in the bin.


    Second Place: Just In Case by Francesco Sarti

    Great use of a child’s voice to juxtapose the child’s perception of what’s happening on the surface with what he senses is threatening below. Sentence length varied for dramatic effect – this would be even more sinister read aloud. Great writing.

    Adrienne Dines


    It’s a fine balance, you know, and I can’t leave it to my little brother.

    This house’s volume is always shifting, like a bad recording of an action movie, and I’m always turning up and down the speakers to catch words or hide noises.

    I don’t have a remote for the house as I do for the telly, but that’s ok. I’ve learned to tinker with what I have.

    Sometimes I steal frying pans to use as weapons and challenge my brother to a duel. Our battles muffle the slamming of doors, the smashing of dishes, and the screams, when not too loud or too graphic, make up the sound of our imaginary crowds.

    Sometimes we play video games, and by the time we’re finished, our eyes are red and sore. I don’t like when he asks if Mum plays too, though.

    It’s not as easy when we need to be quiet.

    If whispers ooze into the corridor, or the couch rumbles with heavy snoring, like a dragon’s cave, I need to turn down the volume.

    I put headphones on my brother’s ears, let him stream a horror film on my phone, even if it’ll give him nightmares, and I wear my fluffy slippers all year round.

    There’s always something to do during silences. Especially at night. There’s always that one small light behind the plant, the one Mum keeps forgetting to turn off, the one that seems to shine for me.

    Sometimes I grab crisps and candies from the larder. Sometimes I swipe the floor from broken glass. Sometimes I place cutleries back in the drawer.

    Sometimes, though, when the silence is alive, and I know games won’t help, I keep a knife for myself, to store it under my pillow.

    Just in case.


    Third Place: Books by Sam Christie

    I think this story could be developed – maybe name the specific books and let the convos flow, but given the word count restriction, well done. I liked the story within a story (the lady of the house moving coffee table books/ what people in toilets read) – funny and irreverent.

    Adrienne Dines

    – Why are we here again? I mean, I don’t mind now we’re all together, I find it rather cosy.

    – Can’t say old bean, but it is better than rubbing shoulders with all the other unread classics in that draughty hallway.

    – Yes, it’s nice to slide up against the sexy coffee table number written by that famous singer. I notice that the lady of the house moves it from time to time depending on the type of guest.

    – Try being a coffee table book, mate. I haven’t been leafed for years. I am a totem, regardless of what racy nonsense lies within my folds. I have more in common with the knick-knacks on the sideboard.

    – You think you’ve got problems. Have a go at being a bog book, sitting for hours on the top of a cold, damp cistern waiting for someone to expose their backside and then continue to disdainfully peruse the first page. Notably, no one ever gets as far as to find out why E=mc2.

    – I think they’ve got a book with a corkscrew in it. It’s not even a book. Callously hollowed out as it is to provide literary based amusement during wine and cheese evenings.

    – Why are we here again?

    – They haven’t touched us in years. It’s all that flappy snap of those tablets and that weird pallid glow on their vapid faces.

    – I suppose the field of intellectual operations is wider on that big TV.

    – Er, this is all a bit odd, we’re arranged in a sort of pyramid. And we’re outside.

    – Yes, and what’s that glow? That one small light getting closer and closer?

    – That’s a flame, buddy. That’s from a match. I should know, I’m a 1970s science textbook; a veteran.

    – I am a history tome. This is not good.


    Highly Commended: That One Small Light by Damon L. Wakes

    I love the ending to this particularly. Byfleet the time we are better end of time in the third paragraph, we’re pretty sad but then.. that one small light. Great use of repetition for effect.

    Adrienne Dines

    In approximately 800-900 million years, increasing luminosity of the sun will have disrupted the Earth’s inorganic carbon cycle to the extent that all plant life dies, with multicellular life of all kinds following shortly after. In approximately 3-4 billion, the planet’s core will freeze and the atmosphere will boil. In perhaps 8 billion, the moon will shatter into a ring of debris, if the sun has not grown large enough to swallow it. But by the time this story is set, this is of no concern. By the time this story is set, these events are not even a memory.

    A hundred billion years or so more, and no map names Sol. Nor could anybody say where the Milky Way once ended or Andromeda began. As continents once crawled across an ancient sphere, so do these two galaxies crawl across the heavens: but rather than splitting, they form a new Pangaea. The people of this place journey between its stars, wringing iron from asteroids and fuel from gas giants in pursuit of new frontiers. But even this is still too soon. By the time this story is set, those frontiers have all been conquered.

    A hundred and fifty billion years in the future—more than ten times the age of our universe now—the sky beyond the galaxy is dark. One by one, all other lights have slipped beyond the particle horizon. All other lights, that is, but one. From the farthest reaches of the galaxy, against a backdrop of unbroken night, anyone can see it. But this requires the most powerful of telescopes, and it grows fainter all the time. To suggest this is another world—untouched and forever out of reach—is heresy. Besides: why would no histories record it, and why would there be just the one?

    But still those with telescopes look out and wonder: what is it?

    That one small light.

    That one small light.

    That one small light.