~ Contest Results ~
 

Our most recent contest had two sections - one for published writers, and another for unpublished writers.

Following are the results:

Unpublished Writers Section:
 

When I Grow Up I'm Gonna Be a Writer

by Paul Callaghan (New Zealand)

“Mu-u-u-u-m! I’m gonna be a writer.”

“That’s nice dear.”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be cool as. I’ll get up when I feel like it. Make a big cup of coffee and walk all the way over to my computer. An’ I’ll write in my pajamas.”

“Oh really?”

“I’ll sit down and tell people all the things that are wrong with the world and how I can put them right. And then people will pay me money.”

“Of course they will darling.”

“Yeah, coz’ writers spend so-o-o much time making up worlds that they are the bestist at thinking about real problems. An’ when other writers read my stuff they’ll wanna talk to me and all us big brains will get together. We’ll probably talk about Man, god, the universe and everything. But we could talk about anything we want coz’ we won’t have no bosses to tell us what we should be doin’. An’ thinkin’ an’ talkin’ like that with other clever people will make the ideas just come poppin’ out of my head. So I’ll never run out of ideas for the next book.”

“You’ve always been full of ideas. I remember when you were little you…”

“Yes Mummy. I know. When the book comes out people will say ‘there’s a nexpert’ and they’ll mean me.”

“Wonderful, darling.”

“I think I’d make a good nexpert. I have heaps of opinions. I just need someone to listen to them and tell me how good they are. An’ give me money of course.”

“Money isn’t everything you know.”

“I know that. But I do need to eat and you won’t be around forever to feed me.”

“Thanks so much for reminding me.”

“You’re welcome Mummy. An’ because I’ll be such a brain with a real book an’ all, I’ll be off round the world with book tours and lecture tours and cruise ships. It’s gonna be so cool. I’ve been reading about those cruise ship tours. Two lectures in four days. The rest of time soaking up the sun and writing more books and lectures.
 
“An’ doing the book tours is gonna be so cool. I’ll get to see all those little towns that nobody ever really goes to on holiday. And coz’ nobody ever goes there they’ll treat me like a big celebrity.

“An’ when I’m real good on the lectures I’m gonna get on TV. An’ then I’ll be real famous an’ sell even more books. An’ that lady with the show named after the screechy singing will tell everyone to buy my books an’ they will.

“But best of all Mummy, those rotten kids at school won’t bully me anymore and the teachers won’t pick on me again coz’ I’ll be a real writer. That’ll show ‘em that I can do stuff an’ be good at it. But they won’t be able to tell me coz’ I’ll leave school.”

“Darling, you can stop them being nasty to you anytime you want. After all, you are the principal.”
 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Published Writers Section:

Victory Against My Anti-Muse

by Rohi Shetty (India)

In the dream, I was being chased by my anti-muse brandishing a knife that glittered in the moonlight. Suddenly, he materialized in front of me, the sharp point of his knife at my throat. Then, without warning, he plunged the knife into his own chest.

“You win,” he gasped, “but I’ll be back.”

The ringing of the phone awoke me. It was from Tushar, friend and fellow-writer.

“Hey, have you seen the Times today?”

“No.” I said, still a little disoriented.

“See the third page of the Sunday supplement. Your article’s been published. Congratulations.”

I rushed outside and grabbed The Times of India lying outside the door. I frantically leafed through it.

My article on meditation, “Path to Happiness” was in the middle of page three, and below the title, wonder of wonder, was my byline.

My body turned hot, then cold. My head dissolved into a mass of exquisite vibrations. My novice writer self, survivor of a thousand defeats against my anti-muse, died and was reborn as a published writer.

There were more calls: from friends, acquaintances, and finally, the sweetest call of all, from my father. His words, warm with affection and appreciation, melted the bitterness sheathing my heart these past few months.

After his call, I went to my room and lay down. And I had this silent conversation with my anti-muse:

“You have lost, anti-muse. You have tormented me these past twenty months and defeated me every single time. So far, you were too powerful and my despair at my failures was your strongest ally.

“Now for the first time, I have tasted victory. I know now what it means to be published, the infinite sweetness of it. I have felt what writers feel when they see their byline in print. Today’s success has healed all the heartbreaks of these past months.

“I know this is not going to make writing any easier. You will continue to attack me with doubts, distractions, anxiety, panic, and the countless other ills in your devilish toolbox. No doubt, you will be there the next time I write, looking over my shoulder and jeering at every word I write. And you will certainly taunt me and call today’s victory a fluke.

“But this success, small though it may seem to you, is the most important milestone in my life. Like the footballer who scores his first international goal or the cricketer who scores his first run, it has given me a confidence that is irreplaceable. Nothing can match this; not all the riches in the world.”

Then I went to my table and started writing. For the first time, in the past twenty months, the words flowed without any pause from my pen onto paper, line after line, page after page.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Congratulations to the Winners!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Special Mention:

There were no plans for a special mention section - it wasn't meant to be.  But amongst the entrie, was a story from an eleven year old girl from India.

Her writing was exceptional, and I simply couldn't let it pass me by without awarding a Special Mention to its author.

My Dream Comes True

by Vanshika Saikia (India) – 11 years

I love writing stories. Stories and essays are the stuff I fancy. I have a blog where I put my stories, but I wish that I could get published as that is my dream. I know that if my story ever got published, my life would change completely. If my book got published, well, I would love to give free copies to my best friends and that will cause commotion in my school. Realizing my book actually got published, my other classmates would start asking me for a copy too. And if things really got big my teachers would come to know about it also. My English teacher would love to have a copy of course, and then our Principal would call me on the stage in one of the morning assemblies.

She would tell everybody about the book, and all the children would start bugging me as to how I got my stories published.

It would all be good fun; to answer children’s questions as if I am an actress answering reporters, and all the girls would want to be my friends.

My Mum and my Dad would throw a party, where all their friends would come with their kids. They all would have a copy and of course I’ll tell them which story to read - my favorite one. As I love my grandma the most, I would have written a story on her, I am sure. And, I would read it out to her from my book.

And, if God favored me, my book would be a success and a few actual reporters would ask me questions and have interviews with me. I would tell them really simply, “I love reading books and writing is my passion. This book that is published has stories from my heart, stories I like. I am delighted that people like my stories, and promise if my book is a hit I’ll write another one and that one will be ten times better.”

The reporters would be impressed, and it would come on TV. I would call my friends and they would say that they were proud to be my friends and I would tell them that next time I’ll write a story on each of them.

Then many people will come to my blog and look at my stories written in the past, and will post comments. I love reading comments, so I’ll reply to each one of them.

After being aired on TV my popularity will increase. Children who never talked to me will follow me. But I’ll stick to my friends.

But sometimes being famous is a headache. Children will follow me. The friends I had not given a free copy to will ask for one. Reporters will eat my head. But that would be until all the commotion died down. But it will start again when my new book will get published.

I’d love to get my book published because, it would be a dream come true.