In attendance: Beryl,
Dick, Caz, Les, Liliane, Aidan, Suzy, Barry, Richard, Derek, Hattie, Tom, Tony
and Dave.
Apologies were
received from Jane, Martin, Cathy, Mairéad and Kate.
Welcome: It was
nice to see a new face join the group. Hattie has ambitions to gain the highest
honours in creative writing possibly in Oxford. It was also nice to welcome
Aidan and Derek back to the group after being unable to attend for a while.
Get Well
Soon: Although Les made it to Scribblers last night, he was not feeling
too well and returned home during the meeting. For Mairéad,
she was unable to come along to the meeting and so we hope they both recover
and feel well enough to attend next time. (Phoned Les Wednesday morning to find out how he was. He is resting at
present so gave him our best wishes for a speedy recovery.)
Good news
from Ray: He says ‘Thought that you might be interested to know that I have
another short story published. Had to provide a bio - so this is what I wrote.
“I was born in North London (North Finchley) and now live in Kent. Reading has
always been a passion and it followed that writing should become a hobby.
During the past three years I have been with the Felixstowe Scribblers where
their format for writing has been quite testing and loving a challenge I do
believe that my skills have grown. The story in this anthology is one that I
wrote during that time."
‘My thanks to the whole group.
All the best, Ray.’
Ray’s story, 'A Hard Day's Night'
is in 'Spectacular Tales: The Science Fiction And Fantasy Collection' from The
Indie Collaboration. Download from Smashwords or book form via Amazon.
Other
news: Cairns based friend Chris has sent me two very interesting looking
books, both, of course, his own creation. One is called ‘My New Country’ about
‘Loving, Laughing and Learning to Live in Australia.’ The other is
called ‘Never Let The Truth’ are stories from his imagination.
Whilst in Yorkshire Dave and his wife went to
Haworth in Bronte country and met local resident and author Edward Evans whose
fast moving thriller ‘For the Right Reasons’. It is set in East Germany prior
to the fall of the Berlin Wall. The book is supporting Help the Heroes Charity
for which £1 will be donated from each sale.
Tonight’s entries in the Bill Budner Trophy
competition, read by Beryl and Dick, are:
Derek. My Dearest Sagarmatha: A lovely
story in letter form to open our evening and one with a twist in its tail. ‘I
know it is over between us, but I still have feelings for you. This is not
begging reconciliation and a chance to see you once more for the man in the
hospital white coat has advised me against it. I was attracted by your beauty
in that centrefold, yet from further photographs I found you change from a
welcoming lover to a dark stranger at a whim. I am disconcerted by your morals,
happy to leave some heartbroken or worse. I thought you were unreachable, yet I
came to see you, to touch and spend time with you. I will never forget our
first meeting; you were looking down at me nor the memory of the rising sun of
a November morning caressing your uppermost reaches. Now I have come to terms
that I will not return to you. Goodbye and take care Mount Everest.’
Aidan. Finding Home: Flowing
modern dialogue between two students returning home from Manchester Uni on the
train to Ipswich. Jenny called Suffolk a God-forsaken place where her weirdo
parents spent hours watching little birds in the mud. He declared he lived at
Minsmere. Jenny practically grew up there, the place her parents spent all
their time. They spoke of their homes, how he loved his home but his parents
didn’t really want him back after Uni whilst she hated hers and didn’t know why
her parents had asked her back. Then she understood their dilemma, ‘With me,’
she said, ‘I don’t have a home yet, but you do and are scared of losing it.’
Beryl. Too Clever For Your Own Good. Unusually
a sci-fi work from Beryl. Freya slipped into the Flyboy, the meeting over
though nothing had been resolved. The roof closed and the safety harness
encased her. ‘Home,’ she commanded then viewed the console as they flew over
where London used to be. ‘Minutes of meeting on population control, 16
September 2514.’ Since the great flood of 2084 which decimated the population,
there had been a steady increase in numbers but now were declining rapidly. Her
darling Jay offered her a welcoming bath, massage and Scotch followed by a fish
meal. Freya said ‘We’ve been too clever. The human race.’ ‘Robotic engineering,’
he replied. ‘People wanted humanoids to
be more than servants and all my friends have humanoid partners. The consequence
means there are fewer babies worldwide.’ ‘Can’t we have a baby Freya?’ ‘Babies
grow. Humanoids are made. It can’t happen.’ Jay observed ‘You humans have been too clever for your own
good...’
Dick. The Final Gamble. A story
of a bloodthirsty despot, President Gabriello whose lavish life style and
gambling habits had nearly bankrupted his country. He ensured his military and
air force were well equipped and fed whilst the nations population starved. A
rebel army led by Ricardo fought and killed many of the President’s troops. His
strong hold high in the mountains was discovered by air reconnaissance and the
President’s army shelled the area until Garcia and his men were forced to withdraw,
right into an ambush. Taken prisoner, Garcia was taken to the President who
offered him a gamble, pick a white ball from a bag equally divided between white
and black, would mean imprisonment but a black ball, the firing squad. To prove
a point Gabriello drew a white ball then Garcia drew a black one and was
marched away. The president had used a sleight of hand with a single white
ball, all the rest in the bag were black.
Dave. Last Night on the Prom. A dark
story. It happened last night, out there on the prom. The experience left me
nauseated, battered, bruised and violated. I felt and looked dreadful. There
was no sense to what happened to me. When the thick sea fog rolled in I heard
the small boat beaching and foreign voices shouting at each other. Then came a
lot of scurried movement and from behind thudding steps. ‘Armed Police! Get
down!’ A heavy hand hit me forcefully between the shoulder blades and I fell to
the ground. Protesting my innocence I felt his boot on my back. Handcuffed,
thrown into a police vehicle I was eventually questioned at the police station
where they realised I had nothing to do with the drugs gang on the beach and
released me without so much as an apology. They were pigs, the lot of them...
Liliane. The Ring. I was
having another session with the hypnotist who wants to write a book on ‘life
between life’. This was the part where you chose your next life and when ready
you get sent to a special place like a big cinema. They call it the ring with
all its three dimensional screens. There are lights and buttons to press to
make your choice. It gives you all the possibilities available. Of course I’d
once chosen life as a Roman soldier and faced mad barbarians or the Wild Wets
where I was shot by Indians. I’ve tried lives as a woman, and also a Viking. I
was offered London, Hong King, San Francisco but then I’ll choose carefully
next time... just hope I have satisfied my would be writer.
Barry. The Full Moon. The full
moon is out. It’s 11pm and the family are asleep. I walk slowly into the garden
and gaze up at the moon. I feel it calling to my inner soul. My dressing gown
drops to the ground and I bare my whole self to the moon and bathe in its glow.
I whirl round and round in a frenzied dance, my hands reaching for the moon.
‘Very nice, dear,’ a voice breaks the spell. I am naked on a freezing December
night and my father-in-law was staring at all of me. I grabbed my dressing gown
and ducked back into the house as he sang Gracie Field’s ‘Sally’. I sat in the
chair pretending to be asleep as my husband went out to his Dad and helped him
back in the house. Then he helped me up to bed. I couldn’t sleep, wondering why
the full moon had such a profound effect on me. The need to bare all and dance
is so strong and I resolve to tell him about my frolics in the morning. Roll on
the next full moon.
Caz. In the Beginning. We’d been
going out for three months. I would often watch as Robin tinkered with my
Escort’s handbrake or did maintenance under the bonnet. I was besotted with him
and he could only do right in my eyes. One day he said he was going on leave
for and I felt quite upset. He invited me to his end of course do before we
kissed and he shuffled off to see his children and separated wife. In those
days there were no mobile phones so contact was difficult. One night he phoned to
say he’d be passing through the county in his lorry the following morning and
would I like to tag along for a ride. Oh boy would I? Instead I said I’d have
to consult my diary even though there was nothing in it! When he collected me I
made him a full English breakfast then we drove to the destination, unloaded
the lorry and then on his way home he crunched a low wall. We had to wait for
repairs but I didn’t mind as I was sitting with ‘my favourite waste of time!’
Tony. The Missing Link. How can
anyone report on a masterpiece of unique talent from our Tony? Full of humour
it begins following research carried out behind the bicycle sheds of the
University of Kirton it was ascertained the reasons why the human male indulges
in the hobby of the suit and shirt ruining yodel on Fridays and Saturdays. It
results in the mass falling down ritual usually performed after imbibing the
sacred liquids that compose Milk of Amnesia. He reports the discovery of the
temple called ‘The Half Moon’ where an almost ape like creature, half-humanoid
in form, is the likely link between animal and mankind. Alcoholic man was distinguished
by a petrified liver, a large abdomen and had the ability to fall down heavily without
prior notice...
Richard. Soul Mates. A
touching story about Graham and Judith. They met in a student cafeteria
eighteen years earlier. Graham was so shy as he sat at her table, avoiding eye
contact. They became inseparable. Years later it was their traditional family-only
wedding. Judith looked absolutely gorgeous in her full-length satin dress, a
delicate shade of pink. Beautiful flowers. Their children lovely. They recalled
the weddings they had attended and wondered if they should marry then something
came up and the momentum was lost. Their devotion to each other and their love
for their 13 year old twins and a younger son never faulted. Thoughts went
through their minds as the priest declared them man and wife and completed the
service. The register signed, they were off. Judith was feeling the pressure,
desperately tired and glad it was over. Their son James ran to open the double
doors as Graham pushed the wheelchair to take his wife back to the Hospice. It
had been a lovely wedding. A lovely day.
Suzy. White Roses. There’s
a story in my head this morning William, there are church bells and it’s a
wedding. They’ve just been married and are coming out of the church. They love
each other, everyone can see that. William had taken a cup of tea to her before
setting off to fetch eggs and milk from the farm. She remembered their wedding,
the church bells rang for us too, the smell of violets and the slippery white
satin on her skin. She was lost in thought listening to the silence, feeling so
sleepy but then William came home with the eggs. He’d bought a paper and wanted
to help with the crossword but she wanted a little sleep. When William returned
to the bedroom with the scrambled eggs she was so peaceful. He lifted one of
her hands with the transparent skin. He felt no pulse. Suddenly he was alone,
there were arrangements to be made and a wreath of white roses to be ordered.
A
terrific selection of stories that added to the tension of selection of the
winner. At this stage it was decided that only the top four would be announced.
And these were, in reverse order,
4th Beryl, Too Clever For Your Own Good.
Joint 2nd, Barry, The Full Moon and Suzy, White Roses.
The
winner for the fourth time, Tony with The Missing Link.
So many
Congratulations to Tony for a memorable work and received the trophy from
Chairman Dave.
New Course: An
email from Angela Lewis who tells us that she is running a GHOSTWRITING beginner's course from
13th October from 7pm to 9pm Monday nights. If you are interested then please
contact Angela direct at A S Publishing, email 1angelalewis@gmail.com
Our next meeting will be
held on Tuesday 7th October at 7.30pm in The Room at the Top, when
the homework assignment will be up to 1,000 words on ‘BOOTS’.
Look
forward to seeing you so, until then...
Keep Scribbling!
