spring term semester work

Angus Gordon Banks 307603 Writers Workshop Portfolio: 2nd/3rd term

Spring term Semester Work

Contents

1 Best Work. Crossover Fiction

2 Rationale of Best Work.

3 First Draft of Best Work.

4 Best Review.

5 Suspense Fiction.

6 Nature Writing.

7 Speculative Fiction.

8 Travel Writing.

9 Young Adult Fiction.

10 Children's Writing.

11 TV Script writing,

12 British Short Story

13 Flash Fiction

14 Novel Writing

15-24 reviews

1. Best Work crossover fiction

TPB or not TPB, that is the question.

“Now sing it with me lads” came the outcry from the bows. An accordion wailed and a deep

breath reigned through the “Platinum Baronet.”

Do what you want, 'cause you art free,

Thine r’ a pirate!

Whar Yar, fiddle di dee,

Being a pirate is all right by me,

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Do what you want 'cause a film for free,

You are a pirate!

Yo Ho, ahoy and avast,

pirating is super badass!

Hang the black flag at the end of your Internet mast!

You are a pirate!

You are a pirate! - Yay!

We've got us a map, (a map!)

To lead us to the file,

That's all locked up with locks! (with locks!)

And buried deep away! (by a high court),

We'll dig up the box, (the box!)

We know it's full of precious booty!

Burst open the locks!

And then we'll say hooray!

Do what you want 'cause a pirate is free,

You are a pirate!

Yo ho, ahoy and avast,

remember that being a Pirate is really badass!

You are a pirate!

Hahaha!

Until we sail again!

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Yar har, dada di dee,

Being a pirate is all right with me!

Do as you wish 'cause a pirate is free,

Remember You are a pirate!

You are a pirate!

The song sent the crew into a flurry of morale fuelled laughter. Young Master Jeremy Marlin,

a member of this uproar, felt all the better with the coastline within sight. It was the perfect

time for a little celebration.

“Only 20 minutes from the coast, Hawke eh” cried Jeremy,

“And I shall be first at the tavern young Jeremy” shouted Hawke the ship’s mate.

“Aha you do wish as much” Jeremy muttered.

He rushed off to his cabin so it could be left in order. Dodging the jibs and minding the

sweepers on the poop deck, Jeremy could feel the elated chaos that was taking place on the

ship. Everyone was practically lacking to make sure nobody got their head bashed in by a

sail. There was almost need to see if you could get somebody overboard, with the sail arm.

Jeremy laughed at how ludicrously realistic and funny that was, knowing it wouldn’t really

be worth it as the Pan Galactic blaster net would pick them up and teleport them to the DMS.

It was more funny, than annoying to Jeremy.

Diving into his sleek platinum cabin, and picking up his dictation diary, Jeremy felt a need to

write something down but didn’t feel it was worth it. Selling his wares would be more useful

to everyone on the ship.

Then Jeremy went after the Admiral Sunde. He wondered why or rather how Cook’s mate

was going to be needed onshore. Mere teenagers don’t seem to sell quite so much as an

admiral.

Applying the same dodging motions like a Golem, Jeremy sidled to the cabin, which seemed

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to impose itself as he approached it.

As he was about to open the door, Marlin came up to Jeremy,

“Now, now what are you about to do there Jeremy?”

In a frenzy of surprise, Jeremy spun around clumsily. There was an awkward pause to recover

himself. He was unable to consider what he should say.

“I think I’m just going to check on what I have to do when we reach the shore.”

Marlin scoffed at this,

“Remember Jeremy all you have to do is play it cool in the middle of a bar. Then you give

off a freebie, you know what to do, get their interest and they come to us blah, blah.”

Jeremy didn't feel completely satisfied with that but he walked away, to end the conversation.

The ship slowed and Jeremy ran to the prow of the ship thinking of himself like Errol Flynn.

He stared at the city of Convenio and saw what a profitable opportunity it was. Despite what

Marlin had said about trying to be the first person to reach the tavern, he had failed to even

get to the first boat to reach the shoreline. Jeremy chuckled slightly,

“If you want to succeed my hearty friend you’ve got to try harder.”

Scanning Convenio with its neon and titanium buildings, Jeremy almost saw a fresh profit.

The metal seemed new and the neon gleamed brightly throughout the place in the rising

eclipse.

Much booty to come says I, thought Jeremy almost gloating at this soon-to-be ‘victory’.

Whilst the harbourmaster interrogated Jeremy, he picked up his holographic DVDs out of his

little boat.

“What is your business here?” inquired the master, Jeremy paused for a second and in a

roguish grin said “I seek to sell my wares as is my trade.” The master wrote it down with a

repetitive obedience and he asked in a higher officious tone,

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“Now may I for the record of this ledger ask what your name is again?”

Jeremy was struck by this and decided to do what the Admiral Sunde always did, hoping that

the same action would mean the same result. “What would you say to 2 extra Knute and you

forget my name?”

The master raised an eyebrow knowing what Jeremy’s intentions were, he smiled slightly as

slowly drew out his hand, palm upwards, rhythmically pointing his fingers to his palm,

“Welcome to Convenio, Mr … sir” he simpered.

Jeremy didn’t bother to smile, he sauntered straight into the city watching the crowds go by

the shouting. And the chatter of people passing by gave Jeremy strength. The crowd seemed

to be heading in and around one of the many buildings, Jeremy looking at it, scanned this

place, a single-storey building forged almost as though with every day it had more and more

added onto it. Then Jeremy found the name Hibernian and Jeremy knew he’d found his

target.

He darted for it, knocking people over as he went, the protests people made fell on deaf ears

to Jeremy. He came diving into the pub. There was an outburst of dust as he crashed through

the door, it seemed as though the pub hadn’t had a new customer in months though it was

probably just a matter of hours. Jeremy propped the DVDs on the bar to a disgruntled

publican,

“Hello my good sir, I’m here to trade my wares.”

This publican awkwardly, faced down at Jeremy, he then put his hands to the bar, whispering

conspiratorially,

“You may but be warned of that cranky fella in the corner, he might annoy you.”

Jeremy as ever took that to heart, and so decided to waltz around the place asking if people

wanted something he had. It wasn’t the easiest of thing to do asking people if they wanted to

buy something here and there, Jeremy seemed to be onto a winner but looking around he saw

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a dark end of the interior, it seemed to beckon him, he looked at the publican, with a slow

measured shake, he mouthed “no.” Jeremy stared at all the people who had managed to sell

his works too, they had all seemingly got back to consuming whatever. Jeremy and the state

of that elated closure, figured he should join in. He rotated, turning his back on his leftover

stock, to the public and in a conspiratorially tone mimicking the publican and he enquired

what real ales did they have, “The prices are nine Knute per gallon”, Jeremy recoiled tapping

his hands on the bar,

“Geez that is quite expensive, lucky I can afford it, so, it better be good.”

The publican curtly smiled, raising his eyebrow and served one of the gallons, looking down

as he did so.

Seconds later there was a rumbling sound. Jeremy swished around and came across a

bearded dwarf who was trying to pick up the box. Jeremy gave it to try and help, “Here I hold

this and you find what you want Sir.”

The little man looked up at him appreciatively, Jeremy was able to look at this man’s face for

the first time. He had a pale, pockmarked face, that almost shocked Jeremy. He continued

holding it without wanting to notice this person’s face. “Hello, sir do you see anything you

happen to like?”

This man ignored Jeremy, for an awkward time he continued to pour through the crate that

Jeremy had. He seemed very interested in it and Jeremy began to feel uncomfortable so he

tried to lighten the mood a little.

“So whereabouts are you from, and indeed who are you, Sir?”

Then suddenly he snatched the crate off Jeremy’s hands then threw it above his head to the

ground, it came down with an all mighty thunderclap like sound,

"What in God’s name did you do that for?”

The young dwarf jumped up on Jeremy’s lap and stood on Jeremy’s thighs to look at him at

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eye level.

“I am Peter Dinklage, if you know who I am, you know I can never work in Hollywood ever

again because of pirated copies of my great work, I hope for God’s sake you are not one of

them.”

Jeremy was too shocked to say anything; all he could do was think about lying.

2. Rationale as to why this is my best work.

The reason I think that this is my best work is because I feel this is a real world issue that has

to be dealt with.

Whilst I admit that the story isn't focused on the perspective of the victims, I feel that it

would be fresh to start it from the view of a young person who sells these pirated copies of

people's films and has no idea about the consequences that it has for people such as the Peter

Dinklage. I used the social context for a deeper meaning to this story. Thus I wanted to turn

this piece into a parabolic commentary of internet piracy.

Firstly, the reason why I used Peter Dinklage, is that his popular show "Game of Thrones"

has the infamous title of "most-pirated show in 2015.” Considering an estimated 140,000

illegal copies have been made, I would be interested to see what would happen if the

television show became no longer financially profitable and it caused great actors, (and

indeed the people behind the scenes), to fall into poverty.

Secondly, people often go to websites where they can get high-quality copies of the film for

free. Although this situation is not always the case, people may have no idea what they are

doing and so cause an inordinate amount of profit to be lost.

Because of this, we lose the high-quality shows that people love because we selfishly steal

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things and do not think about what we are doing.

Thirdly, the crossover part of it means I was able to combine futuristic elements like metal

buildings with the old fashioned ships to create a juxtaposition, or that more importantly I

could turn a metaphorical or abstract concept such as internet piracy and apply it to a literal

pirate of the old-fashioned meaning.

Furthermore, what made the story more useful was that I made a place name that could be

used as a reference to the convenience of internet piracy. For instance, the port of Convenio

appears easily into view, that it is easy to navigate around or indeed that there is no portrayal

of the crew having difficulty finding it, as though it is a website. I must state for the record

that the allusion stated is truly deliberate. By my own admission, I was surprised that upon

listening/recording people’s responses that they had realised the allusion, and that it had

linguistic references such as ‘To Come’ in Latin.

And that I could make a song that stated the ship’s motivations. Having the chance to use this

technique, finally, I felt really happy when the class was reading it out and laughing about

how they were all doing it. Despite being unsure about doing it, I feel that the tactic did

prevent people from having to ask what was Jeremy doing for instance, making my work just

that little more concise.

Lastly, I would be very interested to see how people such as Peter Dinklage view these acts of

stealing, and why we never see people like him do that. Thus, I want to make people more

aware of internet piracy, stop them ignoring the signs and antipiracy warnings that feature

when they buy a legal DVD but perhaps most importantly: find ways of stopping it from

bankrupting their local cinema.

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Furthermore, with the response of my class, I will try to expand on this piece and I will begin

to hone the skill of making parables of recurring social issues. As well as this I feel that using

visual and audial techniques, may help my work in the future especially since it may help to

distinguish my work amongst my peers.

2. First Draft of Best Work

First draft of best work.

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4 Best Review (Downton Abbey’s Finale)

Angus Gordon banks Writers Workshop Wednesday

25th February

On the last episode of Downton Abbey, (the Christmas special)

I have to admit you might think it's typical of me to watch these things. But I watched it

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because my mother and my sister like it and so I watched it with them. As ever I was my

teenage self throughout except during this episode.

This episode I find marks the end of an era. The reason I say this is because I have never

come across a more accessible period drama. I admit now that I will always miss the witty

Lady Violet the Dowager Countess of Grantham for instance.

Yet bear in mind, whilst the talented acting of Dame Maggie Smith is always a highlight of

the series. “Why does every day have to involve a fight with an American?” Remember this,

that Julian Fellowes is responsible for these little highlights of every episode.

In this final episode, Bertie proposes to Edith. But his mother, obsessed with morality, stands

in their way. Henry moves on from his racing life and goes into business with Tom A.K.A

Branson. Isabel responds to bad news from Lord Merton. And finally, Mary tries to reconcile

with Edith.

If that isn't all in the downstairs seeing of Downton Abbey. Carson has now developed a

condition, which we would know as Parkinson's. Finally, Mosley and Spratt pursue new

careers.

It is an episode you may describe as being too complete. Everybody has an end, almost like

the Shakespearean play, Twelfth Night.

For instance, you could argue that this is one of the few times in television where we don't

have to create a "what happened to them" episode. I do find it quite a rarity and does, you

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might say, prove the ability of Julian Fellowes.

One aspect that did amaze me is that the actors have maintained their consistency with this

story. They have not resorted to a Greek theatre style of acting just because it is the last

episode. They instead keep the subtleties. It is quite a refreshing characteristic. Especially

since I hope you understand when I say this. It becomes rather annoying for people to try and

amp up the acting vibe in an episode, knowing it will end with this one. I say this because if

you put all this effort into this last one then why didn't you do it in the first place.

Yet there is one issue I might have to address; Carson. I felt that this illness he develops in

this last episode was rather rushed. Perhaps it would have seemed necessary to do so. I feel

that Fellowes could have skipped that process and just given Thomas the job at the end of the

episode. Whilst, on the one hand, I could see that it would be good storytelling to keep the

concern we have for Carson, it just feels like an unnecessary trope.

Yet, if you forget this from the story, I feel that the episode gave a somewhat fitting sendoff.

After finishing this, I am now beginning to wonder whether my Netflix subscription will now,

become wasted.

5. Suspense fiction

Well, this day has started well, with a good bowl, you have made a coffee now. In goes the

water, granules out, into the mug.

The mug has been knocked over, will you catch it in time?

Well, thankfully you didn’t have to worry. Well perhaps, you should move on. Satchel, check,

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pen, check, book check. And the paper is in the hand. Done that, now perhaps you should go

on down the stairs, good exercise. Oh, look there is a pretty girl. She seems to have an

oversized Hello Kitty backpack.

You should not follow her for too long, she will think that you are a vagrant of some kind,

what with the clothes you are wearing. Just hurry, after all, there is no point in hanging

around. It is purely down the stairs. You should rush off quickly and say hi in the process.

You go two at a time. She turns off a bit, dodge her. You seem to have just hit her backpack.

Oh God her papers are everywhere. You say you are sorry and rush off.

She isn't looking pleased with us, but it is best to get on, you do have a busy day. After that

event, you should try to forget about that and just wait for the number 16 bus. You should

jump on quick. Just make sure that you have your bus pass in hand.

Oh dear, you appear to have dropped it, just walk that out now, everything shall be squared,

clearly today is not that sort of time for trouble.

“Oi you ever pull that again, you ain’t getting on my bus”

Wow you haven’t even been up for 30 minutes and a bus driver gives you a piece of his mind.

Just flash it again, the Assessment day should never be disregarded. All seems to be going

well, what with the work in my bag, and so on.

You have to see all this traffic to believe it is going on today, why is it that everyone does

assessment day, on the exact same day. It isn't as though it helps everyone if we will all be

late for whatever it is we need to go to. Mind you all, least everyone can be happy at more or

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less the same time as our work will all be over.

Oh God, there is that girl that you bumped into, best hide your face, just pick up the book out

of your satchel. And all you have to do is look down, look away just do whatever, something

to hide just your face at least. Oh God, she has seen your face, don’t look at that piercing

stare. Don't do it awkwardly. Just walk away, like it is just a dream.

Ah, the commons, now you should really get in the right frame of mind. Just get through

today and it will all be fine, right here you go. At least try not to get on Dr Betho’s nerves.

Okay through this door and slow down, through the side-door. And through the foyer, better

known as Central park, all Starbucks and Apple iPhones. Oh and so many people to dodge, as

though they can't be bothered with looking at where they are going, all whilst, discussing

societies, or what Freshers Flu feels like, almost as if their graphic detail of getting out of

bed, is going to help me. Come to think of it, wait don’t you feel, kind of feel a bit chilly.

Check your surroundings.

Oh no that’s just an open window. Like you need that when you only get this one chance to

prove to Dr Betho, that you are at the top of the class, you just haven’t given me a chance.

Right-ho up the stairs, smile at the mysterious spooky kooky cameras.

RIGHT, are you sure that the children’s literature has got to your head? Oh well, is it just you

or is the satchel really, light, err perhaps it is best not to check right now, bad timing. It is

pretty obvious that you have it.

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And now to class time, get a good seat, the scary business stuff role; Betho is here, already,

obviously she takes the whole thing seriously, she would really.

She is getting to business, might as well get out the work. Cue: an internal click clack reload

sound. And now how about you, complete the effect of getting it out. Trust me it’s not meant

to be dirty. Just get the paper out

Wait what… where is it WHERE IS IT, Bugger!

“Look Dr Betho, I need to just get my work, from my accommodation.”

“You Boy have no right to get, anything, don’t use that as an excuse.”

“Well look Dr, I appear to have left my work, in my room.”

Oh God why has she paused, what do we do. Oh no, she is making the face she makes when

she is about to…

“Perhaps, Boy you should, let’s see if it is worth wasting my time over.”

“Alright then, Doc, fine, I will show you what I have got. I shall be here again in 15

minutes.”

Get out of here now, you know she won't accept us just walking away. Wow there are a lot of

people, must be art students. They all seem to have an interesting air of emulsion and fairy

liquid about them. You bet, you should camouflage yourself.

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No, get back on topic, right where in God’s names could that work be? Desk possibly,

bedside, maybe, sink…

Right, should you just go for that 15 or 16, and indeed that far right or far left, hmm, just go

for that one on the left, it is nearer anyway and downhill? Goodness why did you even think,

of the other one, your head is all over the place right now, why did we have to lose that piece,

of paper on the day, that it would have mattered the most.

I guess we can answer that as we wait for the flipping bus, and there is no way that Rev

Theory can solve this, immense crushing, sensation. Oh there’s the bus, about time. Time to

step on.

Oh wait, that bus again, with that driver. Okay time to use the “legendary skills” of charm,

“Hello Sir, I hope, you understand that I am in a bit of a hurry, and would like to just get

something from my accommodation.”

And now he is looking at me, great, Mr Casanova, really nailed it.

“Look 'ere mate, I said if you come on my bus today you ain’t getting a ride.”

Might as well play to his weakness. “Okay then Sir, how about you let me get my paper, pass

my exam, and in the process for this, you get paid and can continue with your day.”

Oh yes, that will be enough.

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“No mate, clear off.”

Oh well, that’s great, really helpful, let’s just end it there. He won’t budge, we will just have

to wait for the next one, or just hang outside “waiting”, for the next one he goes off , we just

simply hide, under a seat, problem solved.

And now we wait…. Err let’s get a cheeky Starbucks.

Hang on let’s just look back a sec and check what he’s doing as we walk off. Aha, he is

walking away from his bus. “Let’s get on eh.”

Right okay, head to the second floor, perhaps one of the seats in the middle, pretty sure he

won't see you, this one looks good. Might as well take it.

Oh no, he has got back on, quick get under mate. Soon people will be coming.

My goodness, it smells like mushrooms, mixed with, filth. Can't some people have some

respect for public transport?

Hopefully, we get somebody who doesn't drop their rubbish, right in the face. Here they come

crossed fingers.

Hmm, it looks like a girl with pink trainers that light up, seems better than some that would

be here. Oh well, that is just perfect.

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Best try to keep quiet in this situation, easy really over the rumble, of that massive diesel

engine. Yep, better keep still as well, perhaps that should be the challenge here, after all, you

cannot end up with that girl’s shoes in my mouth, jeez, what a silly calamity.

Oh no not that turn outside Tesco, he is gonna just flip me to one side and guess what…. he

has, right onto this girl’s bag, oh no she has put her hand out no, no, no, no.

“Well bugger”

“What in the fuck is your problem? You perv!”

Well there’s only one way out, and that is the truth,

“Look all I need is to get my damn assessment paper, the bus driver was being colossally

unhelpful and if I don't hand it in, Dr Betho, will brutally strike down on me with a 2.2 for

my course.”

“Oh yeah boy, is that so? Maybe your life wouldn't be so hard if you were such a perverted

creep”

Time to play a weakness then Missy.

“Okay could, at least, you know, let me out.”

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“Yeah sure I really shouldn’t do this to you.”

Well this looks promising and now to complete the grand finale

“Really?”

She looks really happy with this suggestion, now we are getting somewhere.

“Oh indeed”

Oh, she is producing some paper, wait that is your paper. When did she get it? It had to have

been when I hit her on the stairs, very clever really.

“Enjoy this”

Why did she just say that?

“No why are you ripping it up, what in the hell is that in aid of?”

Just pause for effect here.”

“Why?”

“Never hit a girl on the stairs and think you can get away with putting your mouth on a girl’ s

shoes in the middle of a bus.”

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Shall we just explode internally?

6 Nature Writing

The issue of farming

The Crow, Moses looked down on the Roderick's Hovel, a farm he was supposed to stop from

ruin, he knew that it would not be easy. The vice-like grip Mr Roderick had over the farm

firstly and second the life that the unfortunate animals had fallen into.

However, Moses, as he surveyed the barley, yeast wheat and even a malt silo that was

partially constructed and the field into which the cows were penned in he figured that coming

up with something shouldn't be an issue. The question was how was he going to convince the

cows.

He flew over just to get his bird’s eye view of his new target. It all seemed pretty promising,

clearly Mr. Roderick had been working, unlike Wolliamsom farm from last time. The silos

were all open top, made of galvanised aluminium which gave it a soft sheen in the cloudy

sky. Moses was fighting the temptation not to sample the grains as he flew over them. The

cows were fortunately separated from a road, just out of view of the farm, not that Roderick

would have minded anyway, they were good stock after all, but in Moses' mind it was just not

worth seeing a prized cattle if it is just cattle.

As Moses swooped down, none of the cows paid attention just eating away as always.

Moses saw this and with more gravitas than was perhaps intended, "I wish to speak with the

oldest cow in this very field," Moses knew it sounded cheesy as he said it and wasn't

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surprised that no cow had actually raised their head. After a short pause staring, Moses knew

there would be something that could get their attention.

"you are going to be terrible steak"

Instantly the cow's heads turned in horror, and Moses felt satisfied, with fresh attention.

"W-w-what was that for?" stuttered one such cow. "We are prized stock you should know."

Moses had heard that one before and decided, to try and hit the point home.

"yes but what If I could offer you the chance to be prized and never have to worry about any

of problems of being penned.

Another Cow butted in almost as soon as Moses had finished. "we have a happy life here.

There is no need to worry about anything..”

Moses didn't realise it would be this deep so was shocked. "Franklin the boss of me say that

having a farmer who breeds you for your meat is not a life to lead. After all, I remember

when you were worshipped rather than ignored in this world."

But the cows continued in this rebuttal, "we shall never have to worry about food, we shall be

fed, why should we learn the alphabet to prove anything when we can just moo and suckle

calves all day.

While Moses tried to be professional he was, shocked at how badly this was going so quickly.

"well perhaps" Moses tried, pausing for thought "you should try my way of life..”

Then the Cow separated to reveal a minuscule veal. He had a pole around his neck that had

been uprooted from the ground and had stayed there, He was also being pushed along has a

section of corrugated iron that was being pushed by three cows.

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"you have no need to infringe, on our beliefs do you hear me," he said with a hedonistic,

plummy fashion.

Moses with incredulity approached this supposed Veal King, the cows saw this and felt the

need to encircle the two in their conversation. Moses saw this and felt he could use this to his

advantage.

As Moses was about to speak the Veal King butted in, "in a world where the humans are told

to become vegan, and Gluten free beer is being made, we cows are more valuable. It is up to

ourselves to eat and eat, get fat and be consumed for the glory of people who will pay a price

do more and more of our precious meat.

Moses thought on that for a moment, that in some way this little calf had a point, yet Moses

then looked at the house that the real master lived in and realised something.

"hang on you like to, eat and moo all day then how come you don't try, my kind of life where

you to quote my master "get to exercise even more freedom, free from the opiate of ignorance

and laziness.”

The cows then pondered this wondered what this crow was trying to say, it took so long in

fact, that Moses was now debating internally whether to repeat and even simply what he was

trying to tell them.

And then all of a sudden a cow pushed through to ask, "so you mean to give us freedom, by

taking us out of this pen",

Moses took a moment to consider that what he could say next may very well change the view

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the cows had on him.

"Yes if needs are"

The Veal King now saw his power could come into play. "he means to threaten our existence,

by taking every single thing."

Moses then quickly retorted, "Oh really well perhaps I can demonstrate, with a volunteer",

with that Moses zipped onto the head of this questioning cow, to emphasise his point that he

had some power now.

The Veal King looked shiftily and moved onto his side, "well perhaps I can prove that what

you two want to do is futile, so you Schauz can do this but know you are wasting your time."

Moses swooped off in defiance, expected his bovine colleague to follow him which didn't

work out as expected. As per the cliché Moses flew back onto his friend's head.

"hello let's get moving here",

The cow looked up at Moses and said: "is what we are doing right.?" Moses looked at him for

a moment and replied, "well yeah I can prove, it all you need to do is follow my lead on

something."

With that the duo paraded out with Moses proud of their defiance. "go over to that silo I feel

it, met with earth for a while, oh and by the way what was that Schnauz thing for."

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his friend waited, for half a minute, and slowly uttered, Schnauz is my name, you know

because we are Dutch Holsteins."

"You know that is actually a cool name around here" Moses retorted

"Thank very much" Shnauz almost whispering with appreciation

"No worries my man." Moses chipped in now let's get to business.

They went out of the gate with Moses asking Shnauz to leave it open, " we will want them to

see that you and I are making a difference." Shnauz seemed troubled by this but decided to

keep the view to himself. In order to find out what Moses was actually planning.

And so they approached the leviathan silos, Shnauz unsure of what to do, looked at Moses as

best he could for direction.

Moses with the gravitas required uttered "I shall put holes in this wheat silo here and then you

knock it down."

"All right, Mate, how do I do that,"

Moses slightly rolled his eyes "just knock it down with your size okay."

"Well all right then," Shnauz said unsure of his abilities.

Moses then intoned "don't worry and I can make holes, that can make it go down like a sack

of potatoes, I shall do it now."

35


With that Moses, swished up encircled the silo 5 meters off the ground and at regular

intervals dived into the silo with his beak to make a gaping hole.

Now force the silo down with your bulk. Shnauz, looked on for a moment and then stepped

back, he then lunged for the silo, his bulk swaying in the process. He shoulder barged the

silo, both metal and meat, recoiled and for a tense moment nothing happened, then with a

sickening crunch of metal, the silo leaned over wheat raining everywhere and Moses was

showered with grain in the process. For a brief moment, Moses was hidden in the grain and

Shnauz went over the pile where he last saw Moses. Suddenly Moses came out spitting grain

and swooped onto the top of the Pile.

"okay my brother let’s try that now with the Malt."

Well alright bu---" Shnauz was then interrupted, by the sound of a shotgun firing, up in the

air. Moses and Shnauz were so shocked, that they, took a moment to pause, and looked where

the sound came from. The moment was then broken, when another was fired, by a Mr.

Roderick dressed in a grubby tweed Gun jacket and wellingtons, holding a Holland and

Holland Sporting Shotgun, long, slender and very dangerous to fowl-kind.

Moses darted away as Roderick started to reload, luckily as with many Gun-jackets, the

ammunition pouch, was flapped for protection, Roderick had to take a few extra seconds to

load his weapon. Moses praised his luck and flew yelling "go let them be free Shn--"

But Moses had spoken too soon, with a bang he fell to the ground, He yelled in pain,

"remember me!"

The impact took away his pain instantly. And Shnauz having seen this felt dejection and

limped home, knowing there was nothing he could do, he had lost his power. Roderick looked

on wondering what had possessed a cow to knock over a silo and then figured that the cow

would go nicely on a Beef Wellington.

7 Speculative Fiction.

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Art is great on a sunny day

It was a beautiful day in Vienna’s Academy of arts, Alois himself, felt that himself, however,

he knew he was going to have to do more than just picture the sunny day that shone over

Vienna in his audition for the Academy, and so he pondered, “how about I depict what this

place would look like if I was the leader. The sun is the leader and it looks good maybe I can

be the sun.”

Alloys looked over the view he had, the sun faced the west side of Vienna and the mountains

shone almost like Capability Brown himself had designed the landscape.

“Are my what sweet beauty” though Alois, “and now to add my idea of the future, why am I

thinking of Nietzsche’s Uber-menschen I wonder.”

Then as he pondered why God is dead, Alois painted as he went along, he kept the visage of

Vienna and decided to put in as many buildings and streets as he could, but this time decided

to paint it with a redder and blacker colouring scheme. “Ooh, what will this turn out to be

like” The painting looked on a Monet in darkened colour, Alois looked at the halfway through

painting, there was a normal painting of Vienna but because it was darkened by the red and

the black, it seemed to spoil the day that Alois saw before him. It was almost as though he

was trying to be difficult and/or too creative with his process.

“Maybe I should just draw some little flags in the picture over the buildings and the streets.”

Muttered alloys as he painted in the minutest flagpoles. But then Alois paused only to realise

there was going to be a problem, they seem to be quite a lot of people with a political edge in

Vienna perhaps it would be best to just do something to please a majority that would not get

Alois into trouble.

Yet Alois had a dilemma it would appear that the majority of the Austro-Hungarian people

were quite new money that that point in time and considerably orthodox in religion, it would

be perhaps easy then to just follow their religious symbol. So Alois drew two triangles he put

37


one pointing up and another pointing down one over each other. “The hope this does not look

a little bit sycophantic.”

As Alois was wondering whether or not he should go to the trouble of restarting the painting

a small stocky gentleman approached, in a brown suit with only a small vine leaf dressed in

purple to stop the brown and white shirt coloration.

“Hello sir, I hope you don’t mind but can I ask what you are making right now,” he asked in

earnest.

Alois surprised at how forthcoming the man was as if he owned the place, replied taken

aback “well I was looking at Vienna from the perspective of me being the leader, like the

mayor of sorts.

This man shuffled slightly closer and squinted at every detail on this painting. He did so for

an awkward four minutes, Alois figured he should break the silence suddenly, “well my name

is Alois von Hindenburg. I hope that ---”

This gentleman, put a finger up in the air to declare silence, and in a slow measured fashion

he turned his head to Alois, and uttered in a melodramatic tone, “Well thank your lucky stars

because my name is Rudolf Schwarz, I am one of their head adjudicators at the Academy, I

may work primarily in the sculpture department but I would say first and foremost you

appear to have passed even if you’re Monet style seems a bit out of the ordinary.

Alois was gobsmacked, and was actually speechless by such are an abrupt turn of events.

“Well thank you very much Mr err Schwarz.”

Mr Schwarz smiled knowing he had obviously made another man’s day, “well thank you,

would you like to come into the Academy so you can get your induction day over.

“Well, all right why not,” gasped the enthusiastic Alois. They went crashing with joy into the

Academy. But as they were doing so a rather slight woman rushed alongside Alois and

Rudolf, the woman stepped right in front of Rudolf put her fist almost on Rudolf’s face.

38


You shall remember the day you chucked out an artist such as Egon Schiele, out of this fine

establishment.”

Rudolf faced her calmly and she said you will always remember that there can be next year,

and we are very happy to see your development that all I have to say on the subject.”

Ms Schiele showed a face that could have rivalled a cannon fire ring, but she realised that

Schwarz’s calm demeanour would not justify her reaction and so she dramatically flounced

off trying to defy what had just happened.

“Don’t worry, it is quite stressful carry on through just through this door here” Schwarz said

indicating to a wide buttressed door.

“alright see you on the other side” and with that Alois trooped in through the door.

110 years later

The time was 12:57, and Henrik was bored, staring at the latter post-modernist Hungarian art

and was really interested in looking at what Millicent Fawcett, Margaret Thatcher and the

cryogenic Emeline Pankhurst had been thinking about the g3 summit of Montenegro San

Morino and Meeboville.

Whilst thinking about the he realised he could look at the late great Egon Schiele, who had

somehow created a progressive dictatorship, and all through the process of an artistic

manifesto.

So Henrik decided to rush away from his girlfriend who had been admiring Whistle jacket, to

look at the section on her. It had been barred by a minor trigger warning saying the paintings

may be offensive to people.

Henrik ignored it and came on through in anticipation of what he was going to see in this

exhibition.

There was a dramatic pause as he saw what had been entitled as in den Kampf.

Henrik Was a little underwhelmed by what he saw,

39


It was a depiction of the Ural Mountains, being smoothed over by tonnes of Dynamite, there

were Longbow men, Cossacks and Ottomans around the mountain. They were being

eviscerated, by the slope of the mountain like the slope was a knife.

The men seem to all look like they were devolved gorillas, and were drinking at the same

time as defending their mountain fortress. The pictogram even showed the characters, jeering

like mad gibbons whenever Henrik looked at them exactly.

At the bottom of a mountain, there were the banners depicting Thatcher, Bhutto and

Pankhurst as singular images.

Henrik paused for a second to ask, the info board, what was the meaning for the eviscerated

soldiers.

The info merely stated, the men have been done away with for their "lack of progression, into

the society" and it is figured that we shall provide a lebensraum, from people who cannot

conform to a more equal society, for those who are willing to tolerate the new beginning.

On his CTH phone, Henrik felt a strange chilling sensation in his spine when he saw the

crimes that warranted these men their punishment, including a William Roderick who had

been imprisoned after calling a woman, a glorified sandwich maker in 1867.

The idea for conformism in Latter Society was founded by the head of Pear and Kath

Kidston, Egon Schiele.

There was a Pictograph, of Egon Schiele with her moving picture, in hand with a paper in the

other. She looked as though she was embarrassed by her appearance.

Her face was tilted down, her head and eyes as sideways as possible to almost hide herself.

Then Henrik looked at the bottom of the painting scrolling through with his eyes. “my what a

40


marvellous time to have lived in” chimed an artificial happy voiceover, as Henrik surveyed

the painting.

“hmm yes, but there is something missing”

The people seemed to be women, all in military uniform, yet the sort that could have been

found, upon members of the Lakota, or Amazonians it didn't seem to suit them like the

feminine world should have been inverted or to give men right for instance.

“yes but something like it was not meant to happen or if this is the wrong world to live with”

Henrik pondering this like it was a question.

“have we benefited as much as we could?.”

8. Travel writing

How to survive and thrive whilst skiing.

First and foremost, there are many types of skiing, this list is designed to account for all such

types.

To aid you in this, primarily you should eat for every one kilogram you weigh 2 grams of

protein. To put that one way one kg of body weight equals two McDonalds Chicken nuggets

worth of meat. Even if you feel you can’t eat that on the day, just remember that you can

make up for that in other ways. Chicken and fish are recommended due to more protein that

fat compared to any other source. Fish is more recommended, for the cardio-friendly omega 3

factors and brain development.

Remember how I said carbohydrates are the enemy, well they are worth their weight in gold.

But for every type of complex carbohydrate, there comes trouble. Porridge, remember solid

choice, yet maudlin as a breakfast substance, and potential acid reflux never handy on the

slope.

Pasta: Whether whole meal or granary, the glucose rush fast-digesting, upon skiing it is likely

41


that you will be hungry 20 minutes later as a result of the paraskiing. but as a quick fix

solution, it is ideal for that. It is best in 8 minutes of bubbling water, Al dente as it is better

known. The effect is far stronger than left to become softer.

Spinach, yes we all grew up to have a hatred of it like our parents before us. Yet Spinach

contains enough Vitamin A to cope with the bright sunlight and the infamous snow blindness.

Oh and Iron that will transport oxygen around the body which to simplify aids recovery and

creates red blood cells, allowing you to feel more alert and responsive.

Broccoli as a whole is an essential cheap and filling. Especially when it is roasted. Be warned

however when it comes to over consumption 80 g (two stalks) with lunch and supper would

be more than enough, anymore and you would begin to feel rather heavy and develop

flatulence which would potentially feel strange at high altitude and may result in offputting

your experience.

Full fat milk: it may be empirical evidence to prove that full-fat milk results in high

cholesterol, and is notorious for a bloated sensation, yet with that in mind you would get the

full amount of calcium, vitamin K (both for bone density) magnesium (catalysing vitamin and

mineral absorption) and vitamins C (eye care). For the taste of skiing, I would recommend

Milk consumption should be one and a half pints (UK) maximum, when by itself for with

cereal.

All of which are responsible for growth and recovery as a before and after drink. In the nicest

possible way, it is like full-fat Coca-Cola, it’s not completely good for you but does

everything you want to the full extent. For the best effect, Milk consumption should be one

and a half pints (UK) maximum, when by itself for with cereal.

Apples, as far a fibre-rich fruit goes apples themselves are one solid choice. Whilst they can

be expensive 1400 feet up, they can be very well worth your while with slow release energy

and immensely filling properties. Because of the temperature in the mountains, I would

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incidentally recommend that you leave that apple in direct sunlight for an hour just to help

soften it and prevent tooth pain and loss of flavour.

Bananas/oranges once you begin to tire of the crunching and heaviness that comes from

eating apples, as an alternative, they can work especially as they will still allow for a five a

day of fruit and vegetables, as well fulfilling for need for potassium or vitamin C. Be warned

that at times they can be hard to come by in the winter months, (just like sun lotion) due to

the relative desolation and cost of trade

Eggs: by now you may be thinking that this is something out of the film Rocky, I assure you

it’s not I’m not going to say you eat it raw you can if you want but unless you have Imodium

you will regret trying that, you might want to try scrambled, add a pinch of pepper/salt, and

soon you will be feeling like Lou Ferrigno. By all means have your egg fulfilment at

breakfast just to fulfil your body-building passion. Take care not to have any more otherwise,

the cholesterol could result in you feeling a bit sickly due to overloading your heart during

chronic daily exercise.

When it comes to snacking, by all means. No skier could deny feeling really hungry just after

finished halfway through a slope. The stuff to counteract this would be trail mix, I.e. granola

bars, which due to the size mean you could safely store 3 bars in different pockets of your

average jacket.

Do not just resort to sugar to recover, I.e. Redbull or Haribo, as the energy will never be

worth it. The troughs and the withdrawal have to be considered over the instant boost.

Milk\Dark Chocolate can be seen as the grey area. everyone can dream of eating chocolate

one-day Skiing is one such opportunity yet must be taken with caution. The satisfaction that

43


results from it creates a euphoric effect and allows you feel more confident on the slopes and

at the same time more relaxed, stopping your chance of repetitive strain injury. One

Furthermore Glucose levels tend to increase meaning a more alert you.

If you are feeling very unadventurous and wish to maintain your love for student food, you

can bring peanut butter with you. As surprising as this foodstuff can be it is noticeably high in

potassium, which helps to with blood pressure resulting in a resistance to altitude sickness by

allowing oxygen through the brain.

If, however, you happen to be allergic to peanuts feel free to try olive oil, the heart-friendly

monounsaturated fats allow your heart to maintain a regular rhythm to prevent palpitations

and potential heartburn. Considering how much pressure your body will suffer in the process

of skiing both during and away from it, it may well help your process

Health wise for prepare for this, squat, triceps dip and do “superman’s” (lying on the floor,

back down and raise your legs. They should be 2 inches off the ground and each rep should

last 30 seconds at a minimum. Do this from 3 to 10 times daily. Best times could be taking a

five-minute break in a shower and after getting out of bed in the morning, this is because

when this is done on a daily basis the process can become painful. Thus, these two times

when the muscles will be readily relaxed and warmed up.

As a further instruction and indeed to prevent injury you can begin to eat as though you are

right in the chalet that way your body can prepare for the increased exercise with the ready

balance of energy.

Furthermore, doing so will prevent the jet lag that occurs, it is recommended that you could

eat at times that you would in France etc. To put that in perspective you can say to your

lecturer that you must have your “cheeky Nandos”, at 3 PM when somebody else would have

had at 6 as the case may be.

Another thing that must be taken into account is that your body and the metabolism is like a

44


fingerprint, unique. And so it may well be hard to track what every single thing that you crave

and handle in a dietary sense. This is merely advice on what to try to eat to stay fit and

capable whilst enjoying your holiday. By all means try to eat something that you would not

on holiday under a maxim known as “you have earned it you deserve it.” Remember, just

because we are told to live healthy lives does not mean we will always maintain it holidays

are meant to be fun, so make it fun.

9. Young Adult Fiction, Turn Tail,

William never enjoyed Exams day, he supposed in his mind, it was that he always panicked

over what he was going to get and had been told for a long time that he could never redo an

exam. You were stuck with it for life. But at least, you can redo relationships.

Sleeping in that night, William looked at his options, His hyperkinetic mind, could tell you

what day fell on 7th of May 1634 in an instant, or how long ago did something last have a

cigarette, but even with that ability to memorise or deduce, even he could not prepare for the

human emotions that would follow if he was to express his love, to anyone.

William had always been told he had Aspergers syndrome, whether that was a compliment,

an observation and indeed, as a derogatory term.

Then again everyone that William knew, in his class had the same problems that and much

more besides.

You see, as the world developed, so did humanity, in more than just their understanding of the

world, but what people could do, take for instance, Natalie who, confined to an exoskeleton,

thanks to her brittle bone disease, could, at least, do perfect back-flips if she landed perfectly,

all the worse when she failed, she would end up in terrible agony.

45


Furthermore, she was a beauty, flaxen hair chiselled nose and piercing blue eyes and a

statuesque figure, certainly should have been treated like a stature and she capitalised on it.

Everybody knew that she loved the attention she got. William figured that if she loved being

waited on hand on foot, then surely she would love somebody, who could do that.

Yet William in that regard, wasn't going to try without first, assessing the other options and

all he had by his own conclusion 8.2 minutes later was Emilia, a girl that maybe wouldn't

match the beauty of Natalie, maybe she was not quite so charming at first, she seemed so

sensitive, all guarded, probably due to that Munchhausen’s syndrome, she suffered from.

Psychosomatic conditions, are so hard to put down mostly due to the fact that it seems so…

how do I put this, fake because you have evidence to prove otherwise, well for a girl whose

darkened skin and eyes with facial features that all pockmarked from her constant “illnesses”,

and fluttery voice meant that people could have made some assumptions about how she

would sound like? I can tell you now she could retort in such an impersonated manner that

even the guy who just said something, actually thought, he had just managed to unwittingly

learn ventriloquism.

William knew that Emilia was a safe bet, but as he looked on at Natalie he saw the glory, that

he could get out of being the boyfriend, of everyone's dreams.

William hatched a plan in his mind, “I know what I shall do, carefully scan my options, look

for the one that has my best interests at heart.”

William felt it seemed strange that in spite of his love for figures and the fact that everywhere

he went involved having to tell people that he had Aspergers, he had such a strong love, for

women like a burning passion. It wasn't that he could use them to fulfil the need for, figures

like the average circumference of a female tetra-palatalise bone, but instead because a girl

46


seemed interesting unknown quantity. William always saw that girls with a certain medical

condition were always, so emotionally damaged. Like the world was against them even with

their new-found abilities, they could be anyone on the phone or to be able to move at a

greater speed, thanks to what Natalie used to call a “weight over power ratio.” Yet they

couldn’t be seen as normal on the basis of appearance, a mere appearance, for all they know

they could be acting, or enjoy having an exoskeleton, because then with it on you could have

the ability to lift 200 lbs, if you tried.

It meant that in William's mind he could actually, have a chance with them, he knew that they

could see past their appearance, and they knew him so, it was a win-win.

The issue William now saw in his mind, the unknown quantity. All the other people that could

be affected had stronger emotions than William. They actually showed and did not just say, “I

am angry.”

If William did what others did, that would be called a “tantrum” and he would be asked to

leave to go to his special room. He was just being normal or trying to be. What if in William's

mind his display of love would be, seen like a tantrum, would he have to leave. Or would

have to hold it in.

William figured that upon checking up on Pablo Neruda in his mind, and how he showed

cherry trees in a light, could do it, why not him.

So William hatched his plan further, in Drama, so you could cover it up as an example of

acting and indeed an emotion.

“hums this seems good” William lamented.

The next day, with his staple of black-no-sugar coffee, in hand he headed off (as he always

tried to) 5 minutes before to his next drama lesson so that he could scan the class and find the

best place to ask her. It felt weird standing in this room a 6 by 8 by 7 metre room that was

whitewashed to give it a minimalist perspective, so that people could focus on the actor, in

47


fact on a few occasions due to how well, William stood out he was asked, what he was doing

in this room, William would just retort “waiting for the next lesson” and ended it there.

He knew that both Emilia and Natalie would arrive shortly after each other and so what he

decided to try and casually, aim for Natalie’s place wherever it may have been. Even now

William could see that would be a challenge, and tried thinking over to see the flaws of his

plan. However, as he got into the mindset, Rocco, waltzed in with Natalie, while “hanging

over” a girl in crutches was a difficulty, Rocco had his work cut out for himself, having

narcolepsy, meant all his movements were carefully timed, he could fall asleep crossing a

road, yet the interesting thing about him was his size, he stood at a gigantic 6ft 6 and made

210 lbs look easy, even for a guy whose lack of sleep spurned his strength.

William found him intimidating, as strong as he was he was always a gentle guy, yet ready

for violence or that if he succumbed to catalepsy, he would come down like an avalanche.

Furthermore, this made it worse as there would be somebody who could broadcast what

William was trying to say to Natalie.

Not to mention the fact that whilst William had been thinking all this, they had now moved to

the corner leaving only one seat that William could sit on. It seemed that a very casual stroll,

to the chair would suffice. Rocco sniggered and asked “Mate what is up with the stroll”.

“well you know just surviving,” drawled William.

“my god you can be funny sometimes.” Retorted Rocco.

“look if it is alright with you Rocco I have something to say to Natalie.”

Natalie then intoned “what is it?” with a simpler she added

“Willy.”

At the mention of this, Emilia walked up and asked what was going on.

“Willy has something to show Natalie here.”

William wasn't liking what was happening but he felt he had to continue, and so took in a

48


deep breath to savour the moment.

He knelt then put his right hand on his head and the other onto the floor.

“I pledge to look after you for the rest of your days and to be your beloved partner from the

good times 'til the bad times so help me God.”

Rocco in awe was so surprised he guffawed and fell on top of William. In the surprise of this

William was crushed. Emilia was in the same kind of state and could only manage “did he

just say that?.”

William under the weight groaned and they tried to pick Rocco up and was forced to push

him aside. After that exhaustion of levering Rocco, mostly because Emilia has having to do it,

nobody was in a fit mind to compose themselves in an instance. Emilia was too weak to

stand. William was suffering from a lack of oxygen and adrenal enhancement.

Emilia noting this gasped “William after all that work, tell me if you actually meant to say”

she then mimicked exactly what William said with absolute precision.

William pondered what, to say was this moment could have so many points of entry, yet his

adrenaline levels now got to him, even with his brain in a high gear like it was his oxygen

levels were negating it from truly working.

“no.”

And then he knew he would regret ever saying that.

Natalie Butted in saying “no worries Emilia I'm sure, William was just trying to show that he

can do emotions.”

10. Children’s writing Oogie Boogie,

Oogie loved to boogie, he could boogie till the sun came up again, and he boogied all day, all

night, that is if he wanted to.

You see Oogie was shy about it, he was this big, big truck, bigger than a monster truck, you

could see on the telly, this was because Oogie delivered rocks as well, and that was what he

49


did.

Just boulders from here to there, heavy and boring, rocks here to there, just like that

homework, you should be doing but never mind. Oogie knew that some of the other trucks

were getting suspicious of Oogie and his time, spent for hours on end, alone and never once

saying what he did.

Trucks such as Juke and Chugger were getting curious about this and decided to sneak up on

Oogie, whilst he was on one of his deliveries, Juke like a little sniggering girl laughing as he

said,

“You know what we ought to do, we should just check on what silly old Oogie is doing right

now”

Chugger agreed as he seemed to be bored like Juke of doing the same thing over and over.

And so as the two pals trundled in silent anticipation, sniggering like Oogie had just walking

wearing a tutu, (like only you know) annoying and all the time. But despite this Chugger and

Juke went creeping up and what do they see?

Oogie jiggling to the beat, swaying here and there step in, step out, and shaking it all about.

The two trucks watching were slack-jawed and watched like so, as though Oogie was

wearing a bowl of jelly on his head.

They then broke into ecstatic laughter, like a gorilla had just ran through a maths class and

guffawed, with a volume that would rival a football match.

Oogie, in surprise, ran and hid behind a rock, after two awkward seconds he then peeped out

of the side of the rock and saw his two friends, howling with laughter,

“Look at your face” they said, “just you wait till everybody else sees this.”

“Oh please, please no” begged Oogie “don’t be like that, you know nobody will take me

seriously,”

Chugger butted in, “yeah we know that, just you wait Oogie, that should be your new name

50


Oogie Boogie say it with me now Juke, Oogie Boogie,

Oogie Boogie,

Oogie Boogie,

Oogie Boogie,

The name rang out across the quarry and as Juke and Chugger trundled off chanting that

name like their football team had just won the Premier League, chanting Oogie Boogie over

and over, Oogie knew that he was going to have a hard time that day and the next day and the

next.

Chapter 2

Oogie woke up that day and everything seemed to be so normal: pick up the rocks and move

to the next quarry, the same boring old work, warnings about quicksand and avalanches but

then one thing got in the way,

As Oogie decided to take a break, he was surprised to see Juke and Chugger turn up with a

friend of theirs, his grabber van called Maximo,

Maximo seemed very interested to know what Oogie liked to do, but Oogie had never

actually met Maximo and he was very curious about what Maximo wanted to know about

Oogie,

Maximo then said in a deep and slow voice, “I heard that you could”,

“Why yes I could” chirped Oogie,

“So then dance, why not,” said Juke and Chugger in unison.

“Sure I could, how about you give a good beat”,

With that Maximo decided to lay down a thick beat, boom----da – boom-----chick, so heavy

in fact, that it would be impossible to dance to.

However, Oogie obliged, trying to dance to this, and obviously failing; this not only failed to

amuse Maximo but set him, Juke and Chugger, howling ever more with laughter, Oogie

51


watched on in earnest, waiting for the group to stop laughing.

When they did start to talk, all they could manage was one word at a time, whilst laughing

“Aha, stop ha-ha now aha before aha ta I laugh ha too hard”,

Oogie was surprised by this, seeing as he had tried and asked why,

“Because it is just so funny I will leak if I don’t stop now.”

Oogie was taken aback by this and ran to hide away from these bullies,

“Oh yeah Boogie Oogie, go run away like a little mouse, see you around,” Juke jeered.

From behind a rock Oogie, went on and on about what the three had said” it is not fair he so

wanted me to fail so why would he do it, is my dancing that bad? What will people be

thinking of me.”

Then Oogie thought maybe they are right, but perhaps I shouldn’t show off,

And an alarm blared on

“Attention three trucks are now caught in the quicksand,” help them now”

Oogie stormed out of the quarry, and rushed in the sand bank, to none other than, Juke and

Chugger, sinking slowly in the sand, Maximo rushed over to Oogie,

Hey Boogie Oogie I can’t reach them, and you know, because you are lighter, can you just

drive over, tow them and then I can save you and the pals.

“Well al-right, just don’t call me Boogie Oogie” chirped Oogie then drove off to save his

friends,

As Oogie straddled up to the quicksand, he could see that, Juke and Chugger were half

covered in sand and were begging for help.

“Oogie please help, we cannot stay here for too long, please get us out of here” whined

Chugger,

Oogie thought about this, and asked with the smug satisfaction, “Why should I?”,

“Because, if you do than we will never take the mickey out of your dancing ever again,”

52


“Do you promise”, Oogie begged

“Oh we promise forever and ever.” Juke shouted.

Oogie having seen his chance, then decided to head into the sand to help them. The sand

bowed over the weight of Oogie and there was a sickening crunch, under Oogie’s tyres,

There was only one thing for it at that point and Oogie did what he did best; he boogied, here

there and everywhere over the quicksand with the precision of your sister’s ballet dancing;

Juke and Chugger were amazed when they saw this, so amazed in fact that they almost forgot

that Oogie was trying to rescue them.

“But Oogie, we don’t know how to dance,” said the two embarrassed,

Oh don’t worry, guys, all you have to do is, put your foot in, your foot out, in out, shake it all

about. Chugger and Juke then tried it slowly, but surely, and pretty soon they felt the rhythm

rise up; Oogie knew they could feel it and threw down a beat boom-ba-da-bing-ba-da-boom.

This was to help his pals get out of the quick sand, and in the waiting claw of Maximo and as

Juke and Chugger got out they realised all this was possible, through Oogie.

“Thank you Oogie man, we so owe you there, man”, Juke said rather crestfallen

“Yeah dude you are the best” agreed Chugger,

Oogie looked on modestly and he said, “oh it is nothing really, perhaps you guys shall now

appreciate, what it is to boogie.”

Maximo sidled calmly over and he whispered, “Oh we sure will mate, we will make sure that

nobody is going to be laughing over such a cool thing,”

And with that, the three went on with their day.

Three days later,

As ever it was a normal day when Oogie got invited to a little party, hosted by all his friends.

All of a sudden in the middle of a sandwich, the limelight focused on him and a little tannoy

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announced, “this party is all in favour of one little truck, Oogie. So to celebrate this, let us all

boogie like our little friend Oogie for if he didn’t boogie that day, a lot of us would be having

to play in the sandpit. So Oogie comes up here and show us your moves, bro”

Oogie then, decided yeah why not just let them see what it is like, he modestly popped up to

the end of the room and he decided to say in a loud, proud voice, “well then alright guys, you

put the left foot in, your left foot out you, then go in and out and then you shake it all about.

Then you do it with your right tyre, your left tyre and then your right tyre and so you repeat it

to the tune of some really good beats. Half of you create a lovely beat whilst the rest of you

boogie down and then change over.

To Oogie’s astonishment, the room actually started to follow like a PE class learning to

cartwheel. Oogie couldn’t hide his delight as people started to learn his dance. With that,

Oogie thought to himself, well it certainly does pay to be good at something, especially if it is

fun.

The End.

11. TV Script

EXT. Vatican pizzeria Day

Samuel and Daniele sit in a Vatican restaurant eating Ragu sampling the food with Cheville

blanc 95

Daniele.

Oh think this is going to be a great night after the proceedings you engaged in.

Samuel

Indeed, did you find my entrance entertaining?

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Daniele

Indeed, axing the door and saying for here therein is Johnny.

Samuel,

Good good.

Daniele

what's the next objective here?

Samuel

Well 9 Miles away,

Daniele looks confused

Samuel cont'd

Oh that's errrr 14.4 kilometres

Daniele

what exactly is this issue?

Samuel

Baba Yaga no less

Daniele

(Tenting his fingers)

Excellent

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Samuel

Oh but it does mean driving to Bucharest

Daniele

Ah well hundreds of kilometres in am Alfa Romeo Spider. Living on, pasta and porridge with

only the weapons, the car and you for company.

Samuel

Okay so what would be the response,

Daniele

Give it some time mien Freund

As Daniele finishes his sentence the call phone rings, a voice and a voice mail sounds

Voice mail

(Distorted)

We can see you, right now, if you do anything we shall possess all the people in this

restaurant, in the street if you do something, very rash,

Samuel

(warily serious)

Look you are not the first, Amaranth, we have dealt with. Please do not make hollow, threats

Daniele produces a silver hirschfänger and angles his body, to fight.

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Voice Mail

Well, well, I am more than just a hollow threat.

Change to an upward angle of the Waitress

The waitress nearest begins to rise and looks upon the duo with an animalistic glare.

Samuel

Oh crikey.

The waitress fleetingly attacks bowed like a bull, Daniele as best he can, gets out of his metal

chair and circles to decapitate her head,

2 second shot

blood splatters onto Samuel's tweed suit.

Samuel

now you've done it

Samuel produces his Dirk and launch upon the waitress, stabbing her repeatedly.

he rises and bellows

Samuel

anyone who tries to damage the tweed shall be gutted for garters, who's next?

EXT. facing in

the restaurant is panned, with souls going and possession occurring.

The possessed look on at the duo. The duo look at each other.

Samuel and Daniele

(in unison)

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The creeping barrage

The boys get out their salt shakers and chuck it at the possessed causing them to enter the

restaurant Samuel pauses for 3 minutes behind Daniele and barricades the door with the salt.

The possessed in retort try to attack Daniele.

Daniele

I am can't be here forever you know.

the possessed

and so we shall use this

Samuel

no

INT.

Samuel launches, at the attackers with his Dirk breaking into the restaurant and it's rank to

show his ferocity.

The possessed take him like a hoard of zombies and like crowd surfed proceed to consume

his soul. he body begins to disintegrate but Daniele after watching proud draws his silver and

enamel Tankard and unleashes the chanatra.

Daniele

katalígoun xórki daímonas í exafanísou sas

The blinding white light invades the restaurant distinguishing man from soulless, in an eerie

stillness.

POV: Daniele cuts the soulless down one by one

as he finishes and ends his spell

Daniele

incantatem teleíose.

all that is left is dust. Daniele falls in weakness at the expense of the command.

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OS the restaurant is quiet,

EXT.

Samuel drags his friend out.

Samuel

don't do that you know we must save it for the Panopticon.

Daniele

oh, it was, any way to that delicious ragu.

the pair walk through to their table slowly due to Daniele's weakness, they discover their food

has been consumed with Samuel's cutlery, and Daniele's plates show drag marks to Samuels'

plate.

Daniele

verdammt Sam

Money Shot:

Daniele proceeds to grunt, grimace and clench his fists, in a masculine fashion.

Samuel proceeds to produce his pipe and tobacco he smokes it like a bad ass.

12. British Short Story,

British Short Story

Roderick sprawled over his bed; mostly to lie in, just for kicks. But this time, he felt like he

need it today, after the crushing defeat at cricket last Friday against Biresay’s finest, and post-

match pints’ yesterday.

He snoozed, for several minutes, when suddenly his phone rang. He picked it up and heard an

automated voice, saying “Dear Mr. McCormick. We are sorry to inform you of this, but we

would just like, to do a biannual confirmation of your security details. This is just to make

sure that your account is secure.”

“Right,” Roderick muttered to himself. The voice continued with the terms and conditions.

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Roderick tried to reach his bedside table for the letter containing his bank details. As he

fumbled around he realised that he had to hurry as the voice seemed on the verge of finishing.

He found the envelope and with a slashing motion, ripped the letter out. He positioned the

letter 2 inches from his face.

“Please enter your card number by voice, followed by a period.”

Roderick obliged and surprised by how croaky and deep his voice was. He had to stop for a

second, worrying that the phone hadn’t correctly picked up his words. The voice allowed no

time for Roderick. It fired off the next round of speech.

“Now may you please enter the card’s expiry date”

“08/07 Period”

“Now your PIN number”

“6945 Period”

“And finally your security number.”

“852 Period”

Roderick was getting surprised that the phone seemed to understand his deep croaky voice.

Roderick sighed with relief when the voice said: “Thank you for that, enjoy the rest of your

Monday.”

As Roderick hung up, he hauled out of bed. It seemed enough trouble for one day. He moved

to his bathroom, still bleary. He scanned himself in the mirror and took in the weekend

stubble, the “food baby” and puffed up squinted eyes.

“Hello handsome” Roderick rasped with an acidic belch. He brushed his teeth.

He became aware of how loud the sound was, and it gave him a headache. then stopped, and

continued to put on his tweed blazer and tie, it still couldn’t hide the fact Roderick was rather

hung over.

Roderick wandered, in a serene yet exhausted manner, to the only bus station Biresay had. As

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he sat down 3 minutes later he wondered,

“What is it that makes today so important?”

Roderick was in no mood to scan his mind. Yet suddenly it came to him.

“Rhys’ birthday” he muttered, “the final member of my squad turns 20, Sweet times to be.”

The euphoria had overwhelmed Roderick’s tiredness and he realised that his hangover should

not get in the way, of a good party.

“hair of the dog eh, sounds good.” Muttered Roderick.

As Roderick was thinking about this the bus jolted to a halt. Roderick jolted out of his seat,

and with a slight pause, Roderick moved to the driver’s cabin and asked Jeremy, the local

driver what the issue was.

The reply came swiftly,

“I think there is some salt in the system, Roderick so I guess you’ll have to get out if that’s all

right.”

Roderick grumbled, “okay Jeremy see you around.” Roderick was quite used to this and that

wasn’t going to spoil his day. The sky looked turquoise and the sea breeze was cooling on

Roderick’s brow. Roderick with a saunter strolled the rest of the quarter-mile into St Johns

Secondary.

The car park was full of people who were lucky enough to have a car. It was great for

Roderick, he was able to mingle with the crowd and eavesdrop on some of the latest gossip

that was occurring.

“Aw no those two cannot go out with each other”

“Mate dream all you want; Dougal is going to beat you at Fifa”

While that was all right any other day Roderick knew he had to, get to a cash point as soon as

possible so he can get the £10 that could be a present for Rhys.

The cash machine may have been dilapidated with its pre-1990s buttons and the screws

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hanging off one side but at least, it was functional if you gave it a chance.

Covering the buttons with his back Roderick covertly clicked on the buttons together when he

did so the card machine beeped in alarm

“Warning Fraud detected” came a resounding message. Unfortunately, the machine had seen

better days and a storm of sparks bedazzled Roderick and a couple of school girls. it put the

cash machine out of action almost immediately.

“Bugger” muttered Roderick.

The explosion of sparks not only caused him up more but it brought the attention of the

headmaster, Albert Dryden.

Mr. Dryden was a caring man, but he may not have always understood the situation

completely. He trudged through the crowds to Roderick, and through the clamour asked:

“what in the name of all that is holy possessed you to do that.”

Roderick dumbfounded, asked if he could just leave. If Mr. Dryden had actually understood

why Roderick had asked, he would have let him go but no he didn’t.

“You are not going anywhere until you have explained yourself.”

Mr. Dryden boomed in an authoritative manner.

Roderick then retorted “oh maybe you will let me go if I say someone has committed fraud

against me.”

Mr. Dryden’s facial expression changed furrowed his brow and then composed himself again.

“Well, in that case, I am able to make an exception Master McCormick,” said Mr. Dryden

almost purring with care.

Roderick simmered and sauntered off turning to Mr. Dryden to say

“thank you.”

As Roderick left the gates of the school he came across Jeremy the bus driver again and

hailed him down. Jeremy must have realised that a boy leaving school is either trying to bunk

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off or it is an emergency. If you are trying to bunk off from school using the bus it must have

been an emergency thus or a rather amateur attempt at truancy.

When Jeremy stopped the bus he asked Roderick, concerned why Roderick was getting back

on the bus and it was only 9:07.

Roderick replied with a blank face.

“apparently I have been suspected of fraud.”

Jeremy moved back in his seat, he signed “Ruddy Nora, mate, would you like me to drive

you into town.”

“if you could that would be sweet Jez; wait a minute don’t you have any schedules to do.”

Jeremy paused looked around at the silent roads, and with a slow turn of his head, he looked

at Roderick.

“Mate I ain’t got that much to do.”

Roderick was taken aback, and could only manage, “you’re a star you know that don’t you.”

Roderick grabbed a seat, awaiting the bus’s torque. Instead, there was a was a feeble lurch.

Jeremy noted this, he called out “oh just so you know the engine a bit dicky, it works but only

at a certain speed.”

Roderick felt wasn’t necessary to know that, but Roderick thanked him.

As the bus slowly groaned up the hill Roderick had time to lament why did the cash machine

explode and why did it suspect fraud, perhaps it could have been some mistake in the

numbers that he had provided.

Roderick was pretty sure that he had said the numbers correctly; his own father and

grandmother nagged about how he should always remember it and that they didn’t have a

Macintosh to remember everything. While that may have been a good reason for it, Roderick

could not have made that mistake. In Roderick’s mind, it would have been somebody else’s

fault, which even for an optimist meant whoever it was, had a very high chance of having a

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very unpleasant day.

That thought process, however, diverted Roderick to think about what his grandmother would

say thinking such horrible things, it seemed unpleasant to go against whatever she had taught

him.

25 minutes later, and Roderick had made it into Kirkwall, the local town, due to the size of

Jeremy’s bus he had to park it half a mile away from the actual bank which didn’t help

Roderick’s mood but he felt that the walk would certainly calm him down before the

unpleasantness would occur.

Walking through the quiet streets of Kirkwall gave Roderick time to lament yes he may have

been a victim of ID theft and fraud but then it wouldn’t have been much after all he joked in

his mind that he was so poor you would have to put a pound in his bank account and then

take it from him to make Roderick a worthy target.

The RBS branch was surprisingly distinctive Roderick’s heart leapt. As he entered the

building he decided to go to the cashier’s point because he didn’t know what else he could

do.

In a line that the cashier had said on a hundred times before “hello can, I help you.”

“Hello I have been called in today as I have been a victim of fraud” an unsure Roderick

exclaimed.

Our I thought we would see you soon could you please come into my office.

Roderick had never done this before and followed.

My name is David by the way David Mallison and interjected the cashier obviously trying to

be nice yet failing,

there was a phone and a minimalist desk with a piece of paper on it. David indicated to the

phone and paper,

“How about you write down your account number and your security number and your expiry

64


date because we are probably going to repeat this quite a lot.”

Roderick obliged doing so carefully just to ensure that he had got it right.

Once Roderick had finished David picked up the phone, it was away from Roderick so he

could not see what numbers David was dialling.

After dialling the number and receiving somebody at the other end David handed over the

phone, a female voice came on asking Roderick to put in the numbers he had just written

down.

“Good morning Mr. McCormick, could you give me your numbers when I tell you.”

After carefully, making sure that she had got the numbers correct Roderick handed the phone

back to David. He started talking to this female colleague of his and spent several minutes

muttering various “yeses” and “okay I have just done that right in front of Roderick’s face.”

Suddenly Roderick overheard a line coming from this female voice,

“this is that voice I heard on the phone.”

Roderick pricked up at that and furrowed his brow at David. David smiled very slightly and

continued with his conversation, he nodded and then said: “thank you very much for your

help goodbye have a nice day Lara.”

David then paused as he hung up the phone, and he composed himself for a moment, “Mr.

McCormick how old are you again?”

Roderick was taken aback and said with incredulity “18 what has that got to do with

anything?”

David scoffed at this and put both his hands on the desk and said almost breaking to the point

of laughter.

“Well, it would appear you have been brought in today because you sound as though you are

30 years old on the phone.”

Roderick in surprise laughed, in his surprise he asked could you please give me the phone so

65


I can just call my grandmother about this.”

“Oh sure,” David said in between his fits of giggling, “I’ll make you a cup of tea just to really

make up for it.” David then paused, “err, to be honest, Roderick you do look it.” Then

continued laughing as he walked out of his office.

Roderick thanked David for this and found he didn’t even bother to ask who was on the

receiving end of the phone.

“Hey, granny you’d never guess what the bank for I was 30 on the phone it wasn’t fraud it’s

just I sound old.”

There was a pause, and hearty chuckle that only Roderick’s grandmother could have made.

“Oh from my darling that wonderful and yet hilarious news all at the same time. Let me tell

the rest of the family for you.”

“Okay, thanks so much granny, see you soon bye bye.”

Later on whilst watching the news Roderick discovered one David Mallison supposedly left

the Kirkwall branch of RBS, owing to mistaking the ages of customers resulting in many

false alarms and annoying his bosses and the entire RBS branch.

“Damned unlucky” murmured Roderick. And flipped over to watch Forache Bay.

13. Flash Fiction

Stanley’s insomnia meant he could not sleep. For a fourth night. He lay down thinking what

to do. Vacuum his room, “no need to” he said. Buy stuff on Netflix and chill, in front of it.

“yeah but what” he realised.

Sure as the sky was black he couldn’t commit to anything worth doing. Even the self-

hypnosis video where it advertised “Fall asleep in 5 minutes” wasn’t going to help. Whoever

this Fiona Clearwater was, it was clear that he was wasting his time. “just stare at the spot on

the wall, stare at it, honestly how will that help?”

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Stanley moved over to his left side and stared out the window trying to consider what to do.

He felt it look nice to stare out of that window. At least, there was light to focus on the pretty

house that was opposite him. As boring as it was, at least, it was something. Then He realised,

almost like a bug in the night, how pretty the lights looked. They seem to be mesmeric,

almost like they were the almost like they were the “beaming” example of human

engineering. “wow” thought He, “Is beaming the best word I can come up with to describe

this.”

Stanley felt too tired to come up with something better, and went back to staring at the

streetlight, in all its fine detail. Like how it glinted off the windows opposite and blinkered

almost in lines throughout the night.

“Hang on why don’t I try this Miss Clearwater video on something I like” Stanley

considered.

He felt something you. He actually felt calm peaceful like sinking gently into the deep end of

a swimming pool. “I think this is going to work,” He said to himself. Five minutes later

Stanley fell asleep.

He woke up the next day, feeling refreshed and energised, and whilst making his breakfast

burger, he considered what made it so good, was it just boring, to do it and so He fell asleep.

Or was it that that video Stanley had been watching that had helped. So Stanley decided to

put it to the test as he finished his burger and began writing a review for that awesome

literature festival that he had gone to, Stanley had a lot to think about in his mind when it

came to this discussion.

“Perhaps it was a completely random chance that occurred. And I was just lucky enough to

experience it.”

Stanley dismissed it there to continue writing the review Stanley didn’t feel that it necessary

to do the review anyway but it served as food for thought, for what Stanley truly wanted to

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discover.

“Well then let’s make doubly sure that that video worked” plotted Stanley.

The work would only take a hundred words, even less almost like Stanley was writing flash

fiction. Having finished that Stanley then went out to his supermarket, to grab a packet of

chamomile tea. As he was walking back lamenting about the price they were he came across

a sign that was posted on one of the lamps which whilst looking innocuous and practically

boring, seemed to grab Stanley’s attention. It bore the notice

Beware lights are dangerous,

Stanley was not quite sure why the sign grabbed his attention but whatever it was one of

those glaringly obvious moments that you only discover after you read it.

So he wondered back to his house. Wondering what the message meant. Maybe the insomnia

was getting back to him, on that note maybe it was time to get to bed. And it was only 4 PM.

Once the daily ritual love staring at the ceiling, vacuuming, Netflixing and lamenting about

even the most trivial things had occurred, Stanley then figured it was time to put his new

found love for the light into action.

It felt just as peaceful as before, but then it suddenly felt different the light wasn’t blinkering

like it was the night before. Instead, it seemed to be turning on and off in rapid succession.

Eyeing down the streetlights Stanley hoped that he would be dreaming before the lights shut

down, He was too tired to be concerned with this. He focused on them, almost as if he was

trying to throw his consciousness into them. The more he wanted to focus the heavier he felt.

And the more than peace welled up inside him. Such inner peace.

Stanley woke the next morning in an instant as though his haemoglobin was replaced with

Mountain Bull. In his wakeful state he sauntered over to his window, to look at the dawn and

that morning chorus. It gave him peace. Surveying the trees wavering and the birds hopping,

make Stanley almost forget the hero of the day. The lamps.

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Stanley moved to where he thought they were. but try as he might, they seemed to have

disappeared or camouflaged against the background

"Maybe I am not as awake as I could be.”

As Stanley turned back into his room there was a difference to his room as though he had

subconsciously changed everything around in his room.

"Right," he said what is happing here?

He thought at first that he must have forgotten that he must have cleaned in his stupor, then

he dismissed it there was no way that he could have done so. he was so concentrated on the

lamps that night could not have done it.

Everything in the room had been turned into one side not a single rotation like 90 degrees. It

was closer to a mere 5degrees just enough for everything like the bed to look off-kilter. But

as Stanley put on a Barbour jacket he felt into his pockets for his diary, he saw a note. it was

so crumbled up Stanley thought it was a receipt for chamomile tea he bought yesterday.

Stanley binned it as he walked away it ruffled open dejectedly.

It read “just put your mind to sleep Stanley. Think about it.”

14 Novel Writing

For everything, a boy has, the only thing they can ever call treasure is the girlfriend. Yet it is

also said that for everything a boy has the only thing that can ever call him out on his faults as

a girlfriend. Latimer was an in between type, he may have loved talking to and being nice to

girls be was in a committed type.

The same could be said for his work. Indeed, he was certainly never committed to it after all

he likes to tell the story of his life with one simple yet (in his chum Beasley's mind) quite

long metaphor.

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Today was a Friday just like any other Friday, it always dragged with Latin verbs from 845

until 11, RS from 1105 until one lunch break until two and then rugger until five. Latimer

was not actually averse to going to these lessons, in fact, he loved being able to meet with the

Rev Dobbie, he was a man who despite his Catholic beliefs knew that boys aged 15 would

never actually want to be the epitome of the catechism. It was stranger when this was a man

who had a wealth of antifeminist jokes that are reasoned that at the time it was the 60s it

wasn't as though he was hated for his jokes either they were always perfectly timed and in the

boy's mind in very good taste too.

Or to hear lectures on the pathetic phalli of latter Roman adolescents according to Diogenes

from his Latin teacher Sarah Asher. Yet give him a 1500-word essay on why do Christians

oppose therapeutic cloning you had better check the hanging judge pub because you knew

Latimer was going to be procrastinating. But as it always seems to be his procrastination

could be aggravated on the last day before the exceat. Of course, any other boy would feel

like they deserve it. The teachers would agree except Latimer of course. So one day in the

staff room Mrs Fiona Asher and Rev Garry Dobbie hatched a plan.

"Say your reverence I have a suggestion our mutual student this Mr Latimer doesn't seem to

try is clever enough but he does not try.” Said Mrs Asher conspiratorially.

Rev Dobbie nodded he then twisted his hand almost like he was spinning a decanter in midair

asking Fiona to continue.

"Well perhaps we test his skills in something he doesn't truly want to do, he may make a

choice to flunk his exams because he has time to think say we turn it around give him no time

to think and show his true colours.”

Dobbie paused. He stroked his lapels. "What do you suppose you and I do."

Fiona despite her enthusiasm for the idea suddenly lost energy. Then unsure, she suggested,

"how about we throw the rule book at him and we make it seem absolutely unfair to that little

70


bugger oh and we bring in Christoph..”

Rev Dobby raised his eyebrows got up from his seat and sugar is hand is head moving

slightly round to assess the situation "well then let's do this all's fair in love and war said

Licinius."

"You mean Euphues," Fiona whispered in his ear.

"Damn you are right" came the crestfallen reply.

An hour later Latimer was getting out his Varsity top and his shoes, very well kept if so

underused that people would have thought they were brand-new aged two years old.

The boys around and continue to look on knowing that he had the same athletic grace as a

snail in treacle. As they got onto the pitch Latimer stopped and groaned. "Oh Christ"

Christoph was a retired six Nations rugby player, tough but fair would be an understatement.

If you were good at rugger, he was the greatest guy you knew. But like Latimer if you didn't

"play ball" he could spear tackle you, not that that mattered, even if he was retired from rugby

he was still an athlete. He managed to arm wrestle two guys from behind his back. He always

said that before he was going to threaten you.

Latimer being a logical person, knew he would be easy to stay out of his way.

Christoph surveyed what he saw, arms crossed smiling at them all the self-superiority and

assurance that gave him an edge in the six Nations, but as he scanned the team before him he

scowled and approached Latimer, "in broken English mixed with a French patois "your

Varsity shirt just isn't dirty enough I suggest you find a much more useful one to actually

show you try Latimer..”

Latimer groaned slightly, as he had heard this all before. Christoph took this into account

approached him slowly stating if Latimer you're not going to want to try just go to a

headmaster's detention now I see no point in having boys on a pitch you can't be bothered to

try it might do you some good.

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All the boys around Latimer in Christoph including Beasley and in fact Latimer gawped how

quickly someone who got sent off the pitch, and the something that seems so small. "But

Christoph Sir will have got is a clean sure if he will actually pass to me then maybe I could

have a chance to prove that I do" came the moaning reply from Latimer. Beasley seemed to

agree, nodding very slightly watching the situation unfold.

Christoph approached them and said if you don't go back into that headmaster's detention,

you might get something far, far worse than this. Seeing Christoph alone flexing his muscles

was enough for Latimer to realise why it was better just to have to have the headmaster why

he'd been sent in.

Latimer narrowed his eyes turned around and decided to walk in silence back to the belfry,

(the headmaster's office). Christoph watching Latimer for three seconds then turned back and

whispered to himself in French "well let's get this plan on the way.”

Waltzing into the belfry in your sports kit was a bit of an unknown quantity to some people,

this was because it was more academic punishments rather than that of sporting ones which

gave you the headmaster's detention.

Latimer stood face to the wall as was the tradition of the time outside the Mr Brooks' door.

He might have allowed Christoph to have his way getting him into detention, but Latimer

tried to ask himself why had it been so easy how could even the most unfair person in the

school perhaps get away with something that was so overreacting.

As Latimer lamented this he realised that he was still only 25 m from the steps they could

take him to the dormitories where he could refuse and hopefully sleep safely. "Not as if they

mind once you have heard about it Sir you would say is quite reasonable to run away isn't it"

muttered Latimer.

As there was no Mr Brooks insight Latimer then came to the conclusion the head was

understanding gentleman and it wouldn't matter if he walked away he probably knew that

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Latimer had been put on unfair trial. Latimer looked at his watch, it had been long enough 42

minutes since Christoph had "sentenced" him. It had even managed to get dark in the time

Latimer had been standing here.

Latimer came to a little corridor which had a rim of stairs decorated almost like the stairway

to heaven which in Latimer's mind it was the stairway to heaven. He tiptoed over the stairs

one step, pause, one step, pause, repeat.

Thankfully the stairs didn't creak but then there would be a massive problem coming up. You

see the corridor was shaped like a giant cigar, if any staff were looking down the corridor

could easily see Latimer. So decided that the best thing for it was to tiptoe and run at the same

time, getting it over and done with. Latimer admitted he looked really stupid running he

found out dormitory it didn't really matter if it was his but it looked empty so would buy

Latimer some time. He leapt into a bottom bed bunk and wrapped himself in the standard

student's duvet cover trying to cover up his physique in the bed.

Latimer lay there, for 15 minutes as the time passed he realise he could regret this, in an

instant boys started rushing into the dorms it seemed it was a bunch of third formers,

"Bugger" for Latimer, it being third formers the size Latimer was being a fifth former meant

that he could get cited really easily, is only five minutes before Mr Brooks was going to have

to check that all the boys were in bed and "behaving.” As Latimer thought this without being

able to look at his watch Mr Brooks sidled in his heavy footsteps. He was warning the boys in

almost deliberate action. "Okay, boys give me your names so you can all get on with the

night." The names came out all high-pitched and sounding really funny to Latimer he

sniggered slightly vibrating in his bed. Mr Brooks saw this and asked, "boys who's in that

bed?"

The boys were silent they didn't know and asked him not to pull his duvet open he looked

like he had a fever. Mr Brooks dismissed this a "no I really have to do my job I can survive a

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fever" he moved over to the bed Latimer was in he felt his presence was right behind him Mr

Brooks pull the other hand and grass the duvet ready for the dramatic opening of the duvet.

"Oh, sweet Jesus Mary Joseph!.”

Then suddenly or the matrons Sue it sounded like came in "ah Neil would it be okay if I

could borrow your presence for a second"

"Oh sure absolutely Sue.” Obviously distracted he then wondered out. Latimer let off an

internal firework of celebration silent and unmoving.

15. Review of Owl Stretching time,

I sat in the theatre knowing that in the first place something was up, not just because there

was a bare, (and I mean bare in the sense of nothing) stage and that all week I had stories, of

some people in the little village of Milton Abbas in trainers and tweed, ties on heads and a

storm of subtle surrealisms. I could see this as only the work of the New Barn Theatre

Company.

I sit there now, thinking “this had better be good and there is only one way to actually find

out if this is any good”

We started with the actress the young Sophie Amphlett and Al Duncan the proprietor of the

New Barn theatre company they announced we should leave the stage and follow Master

Archie James who shall be our guide, known only as Rosencrantz and so we are sent around

the town of the Milton Abbas, so far so good.

However as so as we go into the bright sunlight, of the day, we are greeted to this heathen

boy with a hood on backwards, repeatedly walking into a wall, okay, probably just a boy in a

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hooded outfit being silly, and then as we walk off I give him a second glance. He has gone.

Well, that’s alright probably didn't see it. Walking through the town we are then treated to

throwing raw meat at ourselves in and around the public house known as the Hambro Arms.

(as per the instructions Master James) and upon cue Albert (one of these actors,) we get

offered mayonnaise with it. If there was spare meat (it goes well on stone said, Mr. James.). If

you think expecting that is enough for one day, I leave to find the forecourt of the Hambro,

only to find the road that divides Milton Abbas, being used as the venue for a sword fight

involved fish, whilst simultaneously engaging in surrealist insults all I could hear over the

clanking of their seemingly real metal was “stretch your papers to a custard” was to make a

summary of our wastage. And it all happened in 10 minutes

I think that the play's greatest strength was the flash style of surrealism that left you

bewildered whilst at the shocked you did this all whilst being told to do so. Yet I saw the

flaws meat in mouth equals health and safety issue and you are relying on, as an actor that the

people you bamboozle, are ready to do as you say.

Well I say yay, you did well New Barn Theatre Company, in getting even I to feel absurd, in

under 10 minutes you surprised me and shortcomings were nothing compared to the effect so

despite stinking like an abattoir, I feel I should clap silently in their honour, I shall now use a

voice to text speech software to finish.

the cast and crew being

Archie James, Guide (Rosencrantz)

Sophie Amphlett, Guide (Guildenstern)

James Tower, fish slapper

Hector Raw, Fish slapper

Albert Taska, Meat Slinger

Hugo Knight, (hoodie boy)

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Al Duncan, Director

Louise Tompson, Props master and butcher.

N.B. no name was given, beyond the two main parts. I gave then names based on their

actions and/or appearance.

16. Brideshead Revisited Review,

As we were told to read something that would be out of our comfort zone, I figured I should

start with something that we all have a connection to, the decline of the English aristocracy.

Whether you are one of the aristocratic families or someone in a family that opposed them,

you and I will see the consequences as are described in a book known as Brideshead

Revisited.

The story goes that the innocent Charles Ryder, goes to Oxford University in order to study

art and whilst there he meets the foppish, eternally philosophical Sebastian Flyte who upon

meeting discuss art and aesthetics of life whilst, watching the world left behind, from the

older generation crumble as the world develops an equal society.

For instance, when Charles and Sebastian walk through a chapel on the estate, Sebastian

admits to his religious affection only because of his aesthetic, upbringing, i.e. I am only

following, my father's religion, because I feel that the artistic merit appeals to my sensibilities

or as they look at the fields, and dream of the future, " when I am old I am going to bury,

something near to everything I loved.” Seems very careless and indeed a sign that Sebastian

is afraid of the future, but it does come to reveal something. Sebastian even, when he speaks

from July 1913 in Emmanuel college, drinking a Chevelle blanc 1902, with Anthony

Blanche, (a character who makes Kenneth Williams seem heterosexual) and Charles talking

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about the Bullingdon Club, you find that he is very relatable to the point where you could see

for yourself where he developed his perspective, a perspective, which makes me wonder why

there are not more people dressing in the style, of Sebastian and Charles and drinking Rhone

wine.

For what it is worth, Sebastian is like the comparative figure of a Shakespearean fool, he

ambles around saying nonsensical things, that show a deeper character, i.e. think the

"relationship" Aloysius and Sebastian have, (yes there is such a thing), Sebastian displays

remorse for actions that his parents should have taught him, it was up to him to learn that you

must apologise for vomiting into the room of a freshman, showing his own sensitivity to his

new friend Charles.

Now I appreciate that this was all a long time ago and it has a sense of dismissal but as the

daily telegraph's A N Wilson concludes "this is not sober sociological analysis; it is

passionately felt, angry poetry, more than a little mad, but brilliantly expressed and evoked."

To which I concur wholeheartedly, and say "How the students stare."

17. Diary of a Wimpy Kid Review

Well while I am in the process of writing for children, which I enjoy very much, I decided to

get in the mindset by reading established, books that are aimed at children, by very popular

authors,

Enter in Mr Jeff Kinney's Diary of a Wimpy Kid.

From the start, you come to notice that Kinney has clearly got the developed viewpoint of the

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seven-year-old, almost as though he is a seven-year-old himself, (checked myself, he isn't),

the way he talks about technology being utilised for too much in the world, using the

homework buddy service, or going off to summer camp, it is as though, I live my childhood,

through this very book. Well actually I may admit to some parts of it, not all of it, I know I

never once left a ham sandwich in my school bag, which festered. And the teacher found out

and made me out as a fool by showing the rotten sandwich to the entire gymnasium (you

believe me right?).

Unfortunately, as hilarious as the book is, I feel the use of American English was a tad trying

at times, as I still have little understand for what an elementary school is, these, however, are

minor issues, which you either learn or just continue enjoying the book. It is a view that I

may not enforce onto Mr Kinney and indeed his editors, however, I am not the only person I

am sure who isn't fully versed in American English.

Indeed, moving from the small fry of problems, I would consider one issue that nobody could

disagree with: the fact that with everything the protagonist young master Gregory, does seem

to go wrong and reading this even from the view of the seven-year-old in us all, I feel that

you get a rather repetitive cycle of events,

Gregory is miserable,

He tries something new,

Something goes wrong,

Gregory is embarrassed to the point of being recluse,

Repeat.

The reader is left with the view; well why should I continue reading if Greg just happens to

end up looking like a fool for everything that he does. Especially when many of the books

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might follow the same structure.

Perhaps, in the end, this is a book that follows the rule in literature of "this is just a story,

don't take it seriously", a rule for which I appreciate, and upon reading on about Gregory

continuing adventures for instance in summer camp, where he makes a radio out of a potato,

(which is an actual thing I am told.), I come to realise that I am perhaps being too much of a

curmudgeon, when it comes to books such as this, I must admit I can be too hard and so

would advise that you, read the book with the sense that you as a the reader are just seven

years old and don't expect anything intellectually or socially challenging, in fact It can be

achieved by reading it with a younger person and just agreeing with what the younger person

says, then perhaps we can all learn to not sit on our high horses reading, this book.

18. The Trail to Titicaca by Rupert Attlee Review,

(TTTT for short)

Seeing as this is travelling to a different place, I looked at my library (at home that is) for

inspiration, enter in a book that my published author of an English teacher had made.

Needless to say, I find it is worth it if you want to look for something that was made for fun.

It charters Mr Attlee’s efforts at cycling from Tierra del Fuego (the southernmost tip of

Argentina/Chile) to Bolivia’s Lake Titicaca, in 1994.

Completely inspired, as Mr. Attlee seems to put it by a drunken fuelled “why the hell not” he

begins in Tierra del Fuego completely unaware of the task is about to undertake.

Supposedly after contracting food poisoning he even listed his very honest to God account of

what people must have thought about him and his bicycle after he was hospitalised within

four days of food poisoning, I quote directly

“cyclist: deceased he didn’t know the Spanish for water,

bicycle scrap metal used for building a shrubbery.”

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Needless to say, he doesn’t become a complete cynic about his journey. In fact, he becomes a

hopeless romantic almost as though Pablo Neruda himself (whom Mr. Attlee became very

much in love with) is channelled through him. Of course, he uses this to his advantage in one

story where he woos a casino obsessed teenager and cheats at a game of Texas hold ‘em using

her love of his poetry to his advantage. Spoiler alert, he walks off 20 bottle caps in debt, and a

slap on the wrist for doing so. However, that is not the only exciting thing that Mr. Attlee did

in his time. I have to recommend the point where he was moving between the international

borders of Argentina (a country famed for its war against the British in 1982) and Chile, by

asking to pass through by winning an arm wrestle with the head of the guards in Argentina.

Admittedly it is a debut novel and it is clear that Attlee did this for fun with many sentences,

in fact, paragraphs centred around the horrors of Asado the Chilean colloquial term for

altitude sickness, which would seem clunky to us or be filled with the political debate about

why the British invaded the Falklands. But it must be remembered it was done for fun, and if

you want to look at travel writing, just for some research and indeed because you want to

read something that could take your mind off your day-to-day life then I would thoroughly

recommend this for such a thing.

19. Review Arcadia by Tom Stoppard Adapted by (The New Barn Theatre Company.)

Angus Gordon Banks Writers Workshop 12th

January

Rev2 Arcadia by Tom Stoppard

Well well, it seems the teenager has now found the play, that will fulfil the desire that drives

most boys, to some embarrassing situations.

As I sit in the New Barn Theatre Company, I marvel at how the actors, can manage under

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pressure, not just the usual pressure, of forgetting a line or having to cover up a mistake their

colleague has made, but the pressure that 7 people in this audience are critically analysing the

play, at A-level.

Meaning that for once there can be somebody (7 people even) who know the play better than

the actor or the director.

The play goes like this

it follows the 18th century Regency period and indeed the contemporary period that Tom

Stoppard (the playwright) wrote in. (although to be technical analysis states that the

contemporary period is in the 1980s when Stoppard actually wrote the play.)

In the Regency age, Septimus and Thomasina are a respective tutor and pupil duo, who in

their context, do raise some issues that even in this day and age who would still need to get

our head around. For instance, the Second law of thermodynamics which states that all

temperature, pressure and density have a tendency to equal out to a horizontal plane, in short

a cup of tea tends to get colder when at room temperature.

This is in fact not taught by Septimus but suggested by Thomasina, little more than a 14-year-

old, which suggests she at a very tender age shall seek to defy whatever the norm at the time

was. Meanwhile, the seemingly loathsome Lady Croom seeks to change the landscape, aided

by the sycophantic lackey Captain Brice and Richard Noakes, the gardener. It helps to give

context to the story as well as we can all see the objectives of what Lady Croom wanted, just

go and look at, the Dorset Landscape, in a town called Milton Abbas for more, which I

reckon fulfils the story as it interactively, gives Arcadia meaning.

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Also in the Modern age much to the effect of the Regency, we see the modern day scientists

battling to discover what caused a mere 14-year-old to baffle physicists and mathematicians,

creating some form of comedy i.e. a teenager, outwitted scientists.

Secondly, the modern age provides a great reflection on what has happened to the landscape

post-Lady Croom's ideas, needless to say, it hasn't gone as well as they had expected. A mere

"haunt of hobgoblins and a muddy waterfall" is all they have to show for it.

It is almost as though Stoppard is analysing humanity's need to control nature to the point of

mockery, which to all intents and purposes he does well, in fact, everyone in this performance

does quite well.

The New Barn Theatre while I don't mention much about, certainly had a hard task making it

and I would like to thank them for trying to not only inform my class for our exams about the

play but also truly attempting to entertain us so I shall end by crediting the people who put it

together.

In a random order (no small roles only small actors).

Septimus, Valentine= Marchello Fantoni

Thomasina, Chloe Hannah, = Ella Dunn

Captain Brice, Ezra Chater = Alex Grant,

Lady Croom Hannah, = Kate Timmis,

Jellaby, Noakes= George Kelsey

Bernard= Alistar Soubra.

Augustus= Archie James

Plautus/flash a rock (yes literally a rock)

Director Kate Timmis

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set design Louise Thompson.

20. The Island (in play adaptation) Review,

As I sat in preparation for the New Barn Theatre Company’s, The Island. I feel there may be

an issue, I notice that the two actors playing, Winston and John, happened to be both of

Caucasian descent. And I having read up the piece, noticed that the characters are black,

meaning that there is going to be some racism or some absolutely terrific acting.

More on that later, because of the fact there are only two characters in the entire play, the two

actors, Joe DeRoper playing Winston and Hugo Knight playing John, decided to do an extract

of the play where John is released by Hodoshe an unseen character working as a godlike

prison warden.

Now back to the matter at hand. Both Hugo and Joe enter on stage, with no black face on. Joe

seemingly wearing a wig and coconut shells in his shirt to look like a pair of rudimentary

breasts. They begin facing with other’s backs to the other actor. And suddenly the two start

talking in South African accents which shock me. The accents are so unlike Joe and Hugo

that I instantly gain are a new level of interest. Despite this increased interest, in their

dialogue, I also notice that there is no setting behind them, thanks to the profile lighting. The

Peter Brook style can only mean that you must focus on the characters to get a sense of the

story. As the story goes on we see that Winston reveals his hatred for John making him wear

the wig and breast I saw Winston start in. He faces up to John, Joe (Winston) revealing quite

an impressive growl of a South African accent as he does so.

And lastly for Hugo, I begin to realise that as well as having lines, he has seemingly spent his

time slapping his arm and reacting to what Winston has said. For an actor that takes some

very serious concentration, instead of just focusing on what you have to say, considering on

this “act” went on for a solid 40 minutes with a 3-minute break so his character could be told

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the news. I have to commend Hugo for maintaining this.

Upon finishing the piece with a brief Q and A, I was even given a list of words (by the

director Al Duncan) to focus on to help gain a South African Accent. This really meant

something to me and I left feeling that I could never match what they had done.

Credits include

Winston: Joe DeRoper,

John: Hugo Knight,

Director: Al Duncan,

Stage manager: Louise Tompson.

Research: Al Duncan, Hugo Knight, Joe DeRoper.

21. The review of Brave New World by Aldous Huxley.

When any institute like the Daily Telegraph can be quoted as saying, "Huxley’s Brave New

World represent a fork in the road of dystopian fiction; then we should hold this tome in high

regard." you may well be reading a book with quite some substance.

In a world where everybody now looks to Facebook for everybody’s baby photos and their

marriages to a certain someone in this day and age, you could say we are quite used to the

events of childbirth and weddings.

That is more than can be said for the people who inhabit this infamous book by Aldous

Huxley instead of all this “wedding and childbirth” is replaced with genetic engineering.

Engineering that even involves the social development of the subject. To put this in

perspective one “batch” of babies will be told for 24 hours a day seven days a week they

should be glad to be epsilon’s they don’t have to think they just need to do what they higher

classes tell them to do. You could as you read this see the story as being a social analogy of

how we as children are brought up. Look at the person to your left or to your right, what did

you grow up thinking of that person whether negative or not, you were taught to think or say

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something about this person you see next to you.

Huxley uses this to his advantage when he uses multiple protagonists: an alpha who was

mistakenly brought up to look like an epsilon rebels against the system, an alpha plus realises

his life is meaningless due to it having no challenge or a nurse who is so conditioned that her

superiority complex overwhelms her understanding of the world.

Such a use of protagonists I find gives the book an amazing twist as Huxley is able to explore

the different problems of each society for instance how the inferiority complex will turn men

into tyrannical leaders, given half the chance.

I would recommend this book to anybody who wants to not only read for pleasure and/or

research but to change the way they think about modern society. In short people will always

say that our society has messed up but upon reading this and indeed George Orwell’s 1984

you will come to discover that you will be singing a different tune once you have finished

this book.

22. The Heart of Darkness Review.

The Heart of Darkness, had been known for one such thing, it is a convoluted book and that is

without all the critical theory that people such as Chenua Achebe providing on the novel’s

encompassing theme of European colonialism.

To put it another way, this is a book which argues on both sides of invading other countries

and enslaving the race within for the glory of the invading country and the resulting empire.

The story follows a Christopher Marlowe, a man who is forced to navigate the Thick Congo

jungle. This is to search the mysterious "agent" known as Kurtz, a man who appears to have

fallen out of favour with the "Company.” No, I appreciate that all the speculative fiction that

you have all been reading, and writing (I Hope) that you are going to see this, work become a

piece of science fiction.

In fact, this so-called company is really closer to the East India Trading Company, full of

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stuffy men who wish for nothing beyond the exploitation of the African masses. And this

does work in fact you see something comical about the sort of characters like the Company

manager who puts his long life down to a hardy constitution despite having a number of

cognacs and a cigar.

The book itself seems to represent another conscientious issue: Can I change anything about

this myself. By that I mean, Marlow could be a Wilberforce figure in this novel. yet he is

either a supporter, for slavery, going to the Belgian Congo to find more than a rogue agent, in

fact, Marlow goes to find a better partner than the wife he looks after. Yet after the adventures

in Africa we read now about a pessimist man who realises what is inherently wrong with

Europe in the first place, they use slaves to justify almost everything war, art, and so on. This

character development is not as fast as I am actually making it out and in order to stop spoil

the story, I have summarised the emotional development of the protagonist to an almost

before and after, style.

But with such a dense book, comes a thought provoker, that may well give you a new

perspective to empiricism and our families’ relative histories. And in so finishing I shall say

this, do read it.

Or if you want to relax and “vegetate” you could watch Apocalypse Now. I learnt now it is

almost exactly the same and is just as good as the book.

23. Crossing Spider Creek by Dan O’ Brien.

Well seeing as this is Flash Fiction I reckon it is the time that we, read some Flash Fiction. I

flicked through a book in the library and was surprised by how striking this title was to me

and the story did justice to it.

Crossing Spider Creek is about by its own description “an injured man on a frightened

horse.” The story instead of taking place in an Old Western takes place in autumn 1987 where

a rider named Tom tries to escape his seemingly overbearing wife Carol. Tom having been

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injured is now at the stage whereby he laments killing the horse where even elaborating hold

“its head in the moments before they both died.” As morbid as this may be the process comes

through, in a smooth manner almost befitting that of smoking a cigar. By that I mean it is

slowly put upon us. Overall that it feels far better than dumping the information onto the

reader. Furthermore, you may be thinking that the injury and the resulting depression is all

there is to it. I would like to refute quite happily as the overbearing wife Carol happens to

own the very horse Tom is riding. Upon reading this, I begin to realise that O’Brien, has

actually put more than just a whim into this piece. Is Carol trying to be almost comically

ironic, giving her spouse a horse, fresh from the two trying to separate? Or is O’Brien

thinking of making a sequel, should it work? Well to be impartial (or at the very least argue

for both sides), there cannot be enough information for the less than focused reader, being

flash fiction. Secondly, O’Brien would have made it into a longer story it can almost seem

like the chapter of a book. On that other hand with that point alone, expanding on the story

can do it justice. As horrible it may be to be asked to make a sequel to a piece of work you

had intended to be as long as 1000 words, I feel that Crossing Spider Creek would deserve a

second chapter, or indeed some exposition to enhance the story’s effect.

24. Love Poem by Lon Otto review.

Reading this from the bench outside the castle, (well my flat actually), on such an idyllic day,

I feel that everything could be the factors for a perfect day. I admit first and foremost as I

write this, the poem is set on the week of the 14th February, and is about a man’s carefully

undertaken Valentines card, to the point where he thinks that he is showing an emotion, in

fact, a tenderness like “that of a better man.” This admittance in my mind has a heart-

warming quality, that I begin to realise we all inherently have it. It is as though the unnamed

character has written the thesis of his lifetime, in the space of a Valentines card. His pride in

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his work, also prompts him to do something that we can all admit we have done. Something I

feel that makes a very fresh reading experience. The protagonist begins to believe that his

‘muse’ will “floored, and blown away by the beauty.” He even laments putting the card into

the manuscript of a “well-known literary magazine”, just for sheer audacity. However, in

thinking about this he realises that he should really hide the name of his beloved so that she

will not become embarrassed about the potential failure of the story. So he then hatches a

devious compromise so that he can be deviously happy, he sends the poem to a poet he knows

in England putting in the recipient’s initials, knowing that only one person would ever know.

So everybody can be happy. Much to my omniscient amusement.

Reading this, I feel that Lon Otto has done more than make every word count, she has made

every concept count such as his grasp of love and the realism of emotions both before and

after writing something that means so much to people. Otto has (furthermore) written

something that I could almost see being expanded, like a third person singular perspective

almost to hit the point home of what this man feels like.

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spring term semester work

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