Tuesday, October 24, 2023

Gifted

 


What does it mean to be gifted?

Is this to do with a present being wrapped up and handed to another?  Does one person sacrifice something to help someone else? Or is to do with having a certain talent? Is that gift always welcome? Does the protagonist make the most of what has been gifted to them?  All of those scenarios exist in these stories and there are other interpretations as well of the theme “gifted”.

Gifted is Bridge House’s 2023 anthology which includes stories by both some of the gifted writers we already know well and by some new faces. 

RRP £9.00

Note, this is an affiliate link and a small portion of what you pay, at no extra cost to you,  may go to Bridge House Publishing.  
 
 
 

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Contributors 
Eds: Debz Hobbs-Wyatt  Gill James 
Authors:Hidayat Adams, Fiona Clark, Athena Constantinou, Alyson Faye, Linda Flynn, Hamid Harasani, Paul Harper-Scott, Adjie Henderson, Abdullah Iqbal, Maria Kinnersley, Jemma Marie,  Seamus D Norris, Pete Pitman, Paula R C Readman, Terry Sanville, Gail Schoepple, Jane Spirit, Zoe Stanton-Savitz, Ellen Davis Sullivan, Allison Symes, Steve Wade, Fiona Ritchie Walker, Julia Wood, 1  
 

Read an excerpt: 

A Majestic Man

Alyson Faye

 

1985 Halifax, Yorkshire

The cinema was nearly empty, but then it was midnight and all the punters had gone home. The shutters had been pulled down.  Mabel, after applying her usual extra coat of lipstick to her rouge red pout, as armour against the bus ride back, had departed, with the spare confectionary for her nephews and nieces. Only The Majestic’s owner, Rigby Rogers, was left sitting in the front row, with a pair of swollen-bellied tubs of popcorn on either side, staring at the flickering monochrome images on the screen.

He liked to run his favourite films after hours, he’d always been a night owl. He was mouthing the dialogue along with the film’s bleached-out figures, as he watched a fat be-hatted, bow-tied man alongside his sad-faced, scarecrow companion, tramp across a studio desert in boots and kepis. Their neck drapes were blowing back into their faces courtesy of the wind machines” breeze, all captured on nitrate nearly a hundred years before and thousands of miles away, across an ocean, in Hollywood. Their familiar antics flowed from the screen, flooding Rigby with nostalgia…

Halifax, 1960

A sick day and an escape from the hell of Rigby’s daily life at the local secondary school. He was lying in bed, cosy, whilst hugging a hot water bottle wrapped in blue rubber, watching, as a rare daytime treat, the black and white portable TV.

“Let”s watch Laurel and Hardy, son,” his mum said.

The sound of her knitting needles interwoven with Hardy’s high-pitched giggles and Laurel’s sobs were a wonderful tonic.

His mum carried on. “I saw them, Mr Laurel and Mr Hardy, in person. Oh, about seven years ago in t’ middle of town, at the old Odeon.” The needles clicked. Rigby stared in amazement. “That Hardy fella, he was double the size, sweating buckets, the poor man. The thin fella, well, he looked like he’d not eaten in months. End of the road for them really.”

Rigby fiddled with the patterned Paisley bed cover, hardly daring to believe that right here in his bedroom was a living link to these celluloid ghosts and his comedy heroes.

“Hung around the back door of the Odeon I did, for hours, but they didn’t come out. Perhaps they were hiding?” Mum added, looking thoughtful.

“Who from?” Ten-year-old Rigby was confused.

“Dunno, Rigby. From Halifax? Or themselves? They couldn’t have wanted to be here – not really? I mean – Hollywood to Halifax– it’s the wrong way round that journey.”

 

Dear old Mum, thought Rigby. She” d been dead these past ten years, but he still remembered her knitting needles, the luridly bright sweaters that grew from them and her stories.

Rigby roared with laughter, his face lit by the screen’s silvery glow. He turned to the pair of figures standing at the head of each aisle.

“See, fellas, you’ve not lost the old magic. You’re still making us laugh in Halifax.”

The two silent companions – wooden, life-sized figures, one thin and sad-faced, Mr Stan Laurel, and the other rotund and bow-tied, Mr Oliver Hardy, stood upright, rigid and unbending, with painted lips and eyes.

They were quite the talking point for the cinema’s customers, and Rigby, a familiar florid-faced figure, poised in the foyer, liked to tell everyone, “They were a gift, you know, from Mr Laurel. To The Majestic, when I opened in ’62. He was born just over the border in Lancashire. He’d family there and used to visit. Especially after Mr Hardy died. One of them told him about me opening The Majestic and showing one of their films, so he sent these two fellas over. Worth a bomb now, I expect.”

Rigby had told this fable so often he half-believed it and indeed, there were nuggets of truth woven into its warp and weft. Rigby was, as he saw it, in the business of selling dreams. He offered an escape for a couple of hours, from life’s dreary toil, all the while sitting in red plush velvet seats holding hands in the dark with your beloveds.

“Gift of the gab, Mr R. is what you’ve got.” His box office manageress, Mabel, often told him, fond but disapproving.

“What’s the harm, luv? It’s just another story. We’ve got a million of them here, trapped in the walls of this palace.”

The L&H companions, with Rigby standing proud between them, had had their photograph in the local press, The Courier. Then, to everyone’s surprise, a national picked up the story and ran with it. The phone started ringing at all hours, and the fans started turning up, knocking at the closed doors, hanging around the back alley, pestering for a chance to pose with the companions. Mr Laurel’s gift. A piece of cinema history.

“It’s getting out of hand now, Mr R.,” Mabel said, one bleak Monday afternoon, as she patted her perm into place prior to pulling up the shutters on the box office. “They’re camping outside overnight now. Look! And we’re running out of Rowntrees fruit gums, they’re eating them by the bucket load.” She pointed at the scattering of tents and umbrellas outside the glass doors cluttering up the pavement and the handkerchief-sized patch of grass.

“But it’s good for business, Mabel. You can’t deny the coffers have been filling up nicely. Usually it’s very quiet at this time of year. Can’t look a gift horse in the mouth, can we?”

Mabel lowered her voice, so the two lasses, training as usherettes, couldn’t overhear. “But what if they find out it’s all a… fib.” She blushed.  “You’re charging them money to pose with Mr L and Mr H.”

“And, just to remind you, Mabel, I’m giving you a cut.”

Mabel blushed even deeper. With her Wilfred not working he was sure the extra shillings were coming in handy. No doubt they could have fish and chips and steak pie every week now, plus there were the perms, colour tints and little luxury treats from Harveys department store.

“Go on, girls,” Rigby told the usherettes, “open up the doors, and let them in.”

 

At midnight Rigby sat smoking in his office counting the evening’s takings. A nearly empty bottle of whiskey sat beside him. He was a happy man, though, if he had to be honest, a tinge of guilt was taking the edge off his mellow mood. He hated having a conscience.

He stood up, flicked off the lights, and took his usual late-night promenade around the premises – up to the reels room where the camera lurked, and back down to the cloakrooms, box office, foyer, and then into the heart of The Majestic, the screening room.

The companions stood in their usual spots, silent, waiting.

“Nice work, lads. You’ve done me proud. What a gift you’ve turned out to be.” He patted their wooden shoulders fondly.

Behind him the screen flowered into life, black and white images formed, familiar faces, staring out at him. Rigby turned around to face –- Mr Laurel and Mr Hardy, but both were sad, and frowning, shaking their heads, saying, “No more, enough is enough. Respect our legacy, Rigby Rogers.”

Rigby staggered backwards, and collapsed into one of the front-row seats, his heart pounding. In the dim light he believed he saw the companion figures moving towards him, heard the creak of wood, swore their arms lifted up to shake admonitory fingers… as they juddered nearer and nearer…

He woke up a few hours later, on the floor of the cinema, face down, blurry with the booze and a banging headache.

The screen was thankfully empty and dark, and the companions were in their usual spots, motionless.

 

* * *

 

Mabel arrived breathless, her hair still in rollers. She’d come straight over from “Curl and Cut”. “What’s the trouble, Mr R.? Why did you phone me at the hairdressers? Is there an emergency?”

Rigby sat behind his desk, feet up, sober, and shaved. “Film festival. That’s the ticket. We’re going to start a regular Laurel and Hardy film festival. Right here in Halifax, with photographs of when the boys toured here. Advertise for people’s memories of them. Like me dear old late mum’s. Get them interviewed and put up a little exhibition. Pull  those fans in, give them a meal, too. Pie and peas. Open up the rooms upstairs and run their comedies over forty-eight hours. A weekender. I’ve realised that the greatest gift, Mabel, of Mr L and Mr H – their legacy – of laughter.”

Mabel nodded, and out of the corner of her eye she could have sworn the two companions nodded too. Just a tiny movement, and then – nothing. But their faces seemed brighter, as though the paint had been refreshed overnight.

 

About the author

Aly lives in the UK, with her family and rescue-Labrador, Roxy. She is a tutor, editor, mum, dog-walker, wild water swimmer and avid film buff.

Her fiction has been published widely - in Space and Time #141, Brigids Gate Press' Were-Tales, Musings and Daughter of Sarpedon, by Perpetual Motion in Night Frights 2, on ‘The Casket of Fictional Delights’, Coffin Bell, various Sirens Call e-zines, World of Myth and Unsettling Press' Still of Night.

Her stories can be downloaded on various podcasts, including this summer at ‘The Other Stories’ as part of their Gothic showcase :- After the Gloaming. https://pod.link/1693204342

Other film-related articles penned by her can be read here:- https://alyrhodes-99284.medium.com

Her work has been read out on BBC Radio, local radio and won or placed in several competitions.

She is a regular on the West Yorkshire open mic circuit.

 

 

 

 

                                                            

 

                                                                   




Friday, October 20, 2023

Creative Writing Tip Sheets by Gill James

 


Fifty-seven easy to use fact sheets that cover all that you need to know if you are relatively new to writing. Ideal too for the creative writing teacher.   

Topics include: 

  • story structure 
  • poetry forms 
  • presentation of work 
  • how to get your work out there
  • script writing 
  • networking 
  • organisations that can help 
  • self-publishing 
  • getting new ideas 
  • building characters 
The Tip Sheets have deliberately been left as a Word document so that users may customize them. 



 Gill James is an experienced writer and teacher. The Tip Sheets pass on information that she has acquired over twenty or so years.   

Get your copy here. Pay what you like. Suggested fee: £2.00   

Gill James Writing Tips Review

 

Valuable tips and links for all writers!

 

Gill James is a creative writing lecturer and English teacher with years of experience and a lot of books under her belt! (Apologies for the cliché.) I’ve really enjoyed this book of tips; I’ve learnt so much. You will too!

This book contains 57 pages of amazing writing tips for writers. Whether you write fiction, educational text, poetry, children’s book or plays, there will be a tip sheet here that you’ll want to pin somewhere so you can see it.

Tip sheets on story structure: Will help you plan your short story or novel. Whether you use the Three Act Structure as a basic model for your story; use Vladimir Propp’s story structure functions or dig deeper into Beat Sheets, Plots and sub-plots; there is a tip sheet to help you decide the best place to explode that bomb or introduce a new romantic interest.

There are plenty of examples showing how famous writers of fiction or film have used these writing techniques. I’ll definitely use them as a step-by-step guide to help outline a plot, then refer to the tips on characterisation when forming characters. Some things you will already know but may have forgotten, other tips will light the writer’s bulb in your head providing one of those ‘eureka’ moments we all love that fuels inspiration.

This section also provides exercises for you to apply to your own work.

Character sheets: Provide insights into how well-rounded characters are formed. Questions you need to ask about your characters, and exercises you can do to help give them depth.

Editing and formatting: One you’re happy with your story/novel/text, there are some handy sheets on how to edit and format your work for publication. Self-editing a novel may not mean it won’t need a professional edit but it will certainly save you money if they have less to fix!

Script writing tips: Don’t overlook these just because you don’t write plays; they had some of the best insights into writing for expression and using the character’s body language to convey a message or emotion.

Facial expressions and voice tone that express many things including discontent and suspicion. For example, a quiet one-word answer to a question implies that the speaker is lying and that they don't want to say the true answer.

An actor may never speak your words on stage, but you can still ‘show’ their expression and convey their tone for your readers to infer how they are feeling or what they are trying to convey.

Writing for Children: These sheets provide plenty of tips and advice on the conventions of writing for children and young adults. 

Some organisations that might be helpful: This is especially useful with links to the appropriate websites and organisations for writers of fiction, poetry, video scripts, educational text and children’s books.

From improving short stories, non-fiction text or poems, to plotting your next great novel, these valuable snippets of wisdom will be in your writing arsenal for years to come.

 

Wendy Ogilvie

'This resource is gold. Whether you are new to writing or have been writing for some time, there is great guidance and advice here that has been thoughtfully and painstakingly compiled. I've read a lot of guidance books in my time, but breaking information down this way seems to be a much more effective 'go to tool.' I thoroughly recommend them to anyone who writes.'
 
Tony Domaille 


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