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Results of the Yule Competition (Chistmas 2009)     

Katie O’Connor
The winning entry
Christmas Shopping 
 

The busy street buzzed with shoppers crowding round moving window displays and the Salvation Army band played Away in a Manger. Angela looked at her list and drew a line through the presents she had just bought. Perfume for Joan, ear rings for Natalie and a shirt for Stuart, even though she knew he would probably change it two days after Christmas.    

Now to tackle the toy department. She felt faint on the escalator and held tightly to her bags as she felt herself falling forwards.     

The paramedics picked her up gently. “Bring the bags ” one of them said. “We don’t know who she is yet.”  They found her name and address in the worn red purse alongside a donor card. Within eight hours a team was ready, couriers were summoned and sterile packaging prepared. There was no pretty wrapping paper. No sellotape sticking to itself and yet, there would be the most personal gifts imaginable.     

That Christmas, Angela gave both kidneys, her corneas, a part of her liver and her whole heart. Two young men in Leeds and Liverpool sat at the table on Christmas day and ate a normal festive meal. A grandmother saw her family opening their presents and cried with her little granddaughter when a balloon burst. A teenager was told that, with care, she could now do all the things her friends took for granted. The surgeon kept the crumpled shopping list. Joan, perfume, Stuart, shirt. That was some list, he smiled. 

- – o-oOo-o – -    

 Kirsty Adlard
Highly Commended
Goodwill Toward Men

I’d heard of midlife crises. But they don’t happen to folks like us. Do they? I knew the oft-quoted statistic that suicide rates rise at Christmas, but that, too, was experienced by other people.
     My husband’s office Christmas party appeared to have over-run, until I picked up his ‘phone message next day.
     ‘Gone with Pamela. Will contact in New Year.’      ‘Why don’t you spend Christmas with me?’ I asked my older brother, ‘You’ll be lost without Cella, poor soul. It’s a rotten time to be taken into care;  just a week before Christmas. If you travelled in daylight, surely you’d manage it? Oh well …. I hadn’t realised the car was that unreliable.^‘    

      I hung a garland on the door. Wrote cards but didn’t post them. Bought a brace of partridge, put one in the freezer. Went to midnight Mass, overslept next day. Dressed at mid-day, had a sherry with my toast. ‘Happy Christmas!’ I wished myself merrily, dipped my hand into the almost-empty chocolate box.
     By mid-afternoon I felt hungry, the filling station was the nearest place open for frozen veg.  Harvey was packing away the baskets of baubles and flowers, a car preparing to leave the pumps.  A shabby car; a Ford. My brother’s smiling profile turned towards the passenger. Their lips puckered expectantly. The youth swept back his veil of hair, his arm casually around the driver’s shoulder. The car pulled back onto the deserted road as my tears crystallised on the frozen peas.    

 - – o-oOo-o- -    

 Elaine Brett
Highly Commended
Olden Times

My husband gazed into the bathroom mirror.
      ‘I look more like Father Christmas every year’.
     ‘Well the grandkrds will be pleased…”
     ‘You’re not taking this seriously – I need to DO something with my life!’
     He spun round and his expression took me by surprise.
     ‘Well – what do you want to do?’
     He paused.
     ‘Turn back time’.
     The moment passed but an idea had lodged in my mind then gathered momentum.       On Christmas Day – the bright, red glider lay on a runway of discarded wrapping paper while he inserted the batteries into the remote control. All morning he lived out his long held fantasy of being a pilot – interrupted only by a breakfast of sizzling tomatoes on toast – just like his Nan used to make.
       The turkey was eclipsed by a round, plum pudding, which I boiled the old-fashioned way, in a cloth, and studded with silver coins. It lit his face up – along with the brandy.
       The snow I hoped for didn’t appear – so I improvised. As the whole family returned from the afternoon walk, I hurled handfuls of cotton wool balls at him, until the penny dropped.
       We listened to the Queen’s speech and played charades, then later, when everyone had gone home, he and I toasted crumpets in front of a crackling, fog fire.
       As he settled into the warmth of our bed, I reached under my pillow and pulled out Enid Blyton’s ‘The Mountain of Adventure’ and, with love, began reading him back to his childhood.   

  -  - o-oOo-o- -  

Margaret Cronin
Highly Commended
That Kind of Girl

The night before Christmas it was – a year ago now.   I’d been dead lucky, just walked into this cushy job at the beginning of December. Only seasonal, but better than nothing.
          Me and the lads went to the disco after the pub, and there wasn’t much time to get ready. Still, a squirt of after-shave and a bit of deodorant works wonders.
          I suppose you could say I got picked up. Lovely she was. Came straight up to me before I’d got used to the dark in the basement. Tiny little thing, all long hair and big eyes.
          ‘You a model?’ She asked, pinching my best chat-up line.
         ‘Nah,’I said. ‘Why?’
         ‘Dunno. You got the body for it, and the looks.’
         ‘Not so bad yourself,’ I said.
         ‘What do you do then?’
         ‘Sort of show business.’
         ‘No. Really? I always wanted to be on the stage. Or is it tv?’
          I did a really good job, bluffing, without telling too many lies.
         When I offered her a lift home and she said, ‘OK’, I thought my luck had changed.
         I zapped the central locking, and left her to get in. They don’t like it if you’re too polite.
         She said, ‘Here. What’s this on the seat?’
         It was me Santa costume, wasn’t it? Couldn’t deny it.
         ‘Showbusiness, you said.’     

- – o-oOo-o- -     

Steve Middleton
Runner-Up
Hometime
 

Sadiq Mohammed stood in the exact centre of the tube compartment holding the pole for support. Christmas eve at five o’clock, the crush was overwhelming with a hot mixture of bodies, perfume and damp raincoats. It was bucketing down in Piccadilly above them as they headed for Green Park. He fingered his button nervously, hoping the wires would not show beneath his jacket. His lips moved silently in repeated prayer.
          Unwillingly forced against him at every lurch of the carriage Julian Stockdale stood tall, gripping the swinging handle above his head. A hell of a Friday, he would tell Penny when he got home. What he would fail to mention was that he had come a hair’s breadth away from being discovered moving the hedge fund into the futures market. He almost smiled to himself- it would have made Nick Leeson look very small beer.
          He was shaken out of his reverie by the girl facing him just the other side of the Arab. A striking blonde, she too had to hold on to the hanging strap to steady herself in the crowd. Her face remained an expressionless mask, her nose almost In his armpit. For her part, Samantha was taking him all in — pinstripe suit, Harrovian tie, gold cufflinks and expensive deodorant, he had it all. If only that little man wasn’t in the way, she thought, he might notice me.
          Sandwiched between the true enemies of Allah, mammon and immorality, Sadiq’s finger slowly searched for his shirt button.     

- – o-oOo-o- -     

David Hamilton
Runner Up
Winter Interval     

Councillor Jones protested, ‘But we always decorate the churches around Town Centre with lights at Christmas.’
          ‘As the report says, health and safety standards advise scaffolding built by accredited erectors before anyone goes high to hang wires,’ Councillor Heath retorted. ‘Scaffolding expenditure is a no-no in today’s economic climate.’
          ’Or an excuse for demoting Christmas.’
          ‘You’re outvoted, Councillor Jones.’     

In his home, Councillor Heath fiddled uselessly to coax a picture from his television. He was interrupted by the doorbell.
         ‘Ravi Chundrati, I live on this terrace,’ the caller said. ‘We’re up checking our aerial and see yours is fallen. We’re certified aerial engineers and we’ll refit it free right away.’
          ‘It’s wonderfully generous of you,’ Heath cried when they came down.
          ‘No problem, we like being good neighbours.’     

Leaving a committee meeting, Councillor Heath stopped to gape open-mouthed at the myriad colours giving Town Centre a festive brightness. Pausing beside him, Councillor Jones exclaimed, ‘Christmas atmosphere!’
          ‘But health and safety – ‘
          ‘Ah, health and safety. Was it on your mind when you let Ravi Chundrati repair your aerial free yesterday?’
          ‘He’s an accredited aerial engineer.’
          ‘Exactly. He did the same favour he did you for those churches. He likes their lights this time of year and says they were very cooperative when his group wanted their temple.

- – o-oOo-o- - 

Peter Rolls
Runner-Up
A New Word for Christmas

When I was five, Father Christmas told me he was Uncle George. Although I’d realised this the previous year, because of his purple nose.
          So, when he made his midnight visit, Jack and I were behind the door with our pillows. And we got him down and banged him a bit and I stood on his beard. And that’s when I learned a new word.
          And Mummy came and said ‘What’s the noise?’ And Uncle George shoved the beard in her hand and went downstairs.     

And Auntie Mo came and said ‘What’s the noise?’ A.nd Mummy said ‘Nothing -they’ve just attacked Father Christmas.’     

And Auntie said that wasn’t very nice.     

And Mummy said it was a shame.     

And Daddy came and said ‘What’s the noise?’ And Mummy said ‘Nothing -they’ve just attacked Father Christmas.’     

And I said my new word, which was ‘Bugger.’     

And Auntie said that wasn’t very nice.     

And Mummy said it was a shame.     

And Daddy dragged me into my bed.     

And I grinned at Jack.     

And Daddy said It’s not funny.’ But it was …     

And they all went downstairs and we heard Uncle George shouting.     

So Jack and I sang ‘Bugger, bugger, bugger’ until we fell asleep.     

And in the morning, our stockings were empty.     

And at breakfast, Uncle George had a plaster on his head.     

And Auntie said ‘Never mind.’     

And Mummy said ‘Never mind.’     

And Uncle George said ‘Never again.’     

And Daddy said ‘Happy Christmas.’     

But it wasn’t . . .     

- – o-oOo-o- -     

     The free NAWG competitions form a central part of our commitment to members and getting the right mix is important. We have returned to the traditional 9 categories plus anthology competition this year, but have tried to introduce new elements to whet the collective writing appetite of our members.     

Email secretary@nawg.co.uk if you would like a PDF copy of the entry form     

The closing date for entries – 12th April 2010 – has now passed but the categories for NAWG competitions are very similar each year and you might like to use them for creative writing suggestions within your group, so that your members will be well practiced for the 2011 competitions when they are open for entries next year.     

The 2010 competitions results will be published on this page, later in the year.     

These competitions were open to NAWG members only     

The categories we had in this year’s competitions were as follows:     

1. Open Poetry
   As the category suggests this can be in any style or form, we have increased the line limit to 40 lines this year.
2. Sonnet
   This is to be written in a traditional form. Entries that stick closely to  Petrarchan (Italian), Spenserian, Miltonian, or Shakesperian forms will certainly be acceptable; a 14 line unrhymed or unstructured poem will not be considered. As ever the judge’s decision on the matter will be final.
3. Poem to include six specific words
   Any form or subject, up to 40 lines but must include the words:
   silver, broken, ache, taint, bubble, arcane.
4. Open Short story
   Up to 1500 words, fiction on any subject or in any style.
5. Short Fantasy story
   Up to 1500 words. State whether for adult or child, and if for a child the approximate age.
6. A short story for children
   On the subject of ‘Discovery’, up to 1500 words.
7. Novel Opening
   Up to 1500 words as the opening of a novel plus a 500 word synopsis of the remainder of the plot.
8. 10 Minute radio play
   A ten minute mystery for radio.
9. Article on a local custom
   1000 words maximum on a custom or event specific to an area, not necessarily local to the writer’s home. May be accompanied by up to 2 photographs, the author and author’s family must not appear as recognisable characters in the photographs.
10. Group Anthology
    The Denise Robertson Anthology Prize.

The trustees have debated the anthology guidelines at considerable length following concerns expressed by members over the previous couple of years and have come up with the following guidelines on what constitutes an anthology for the purposes of the competition.     

Anthologies found not to meet the following standards will not be submitted to the judges. The competition administrator’s decision is final on this matter and correspondence regarding entries will not be entered into.     

The body of work to be judged in an anthology must be the work of group members.     

By this we mean that if you have an anthology with competition winners external to the group then the anthology is now eligible, but it will not be judged on that work, the main body of work in the anthology must still be the work of the group.     

The minimum presentation standard for an anthology     

Either in book format or a format suitable for presentation to a publisher.     

Consistent layout and typeface.     

Cover with the title and group name clearly printed.     

This opens up the competition to work from groups unable to afford the cost of professional publishing, at the same time ensuring that the group gain experience of  preparing an anthology.      

We hope that you found something to suit you in these 2010 competition categories and that the notes in this article helped you to meet the challenges we have set.