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This above all; to thine own self be true. 
William Shakespeare

 COMPETITION ENTRY ~ 29th July 2015

30/7/2015

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DIALOGUE WITH A DAISY
by John Yeo

The garden was a mess, there had been an incredible North wind overnight that savagely blew everything to bits. I leaned on my spade and surveyed the damage, branches and leaves had been ripped from our trees and were lying everywhere.
 Then out of nowhere a tiny voice whispered  'Please don't tread on me!'
  Shaken, as I knew I was totally alone, I wheeled around in surprise.
   'I'm down here! Next to your incredibly large foot.'
 I looked down to find there was nothing there except Dandelions, Daisies and Grass.
   'I can't see you! If you are real and not a figment of my imagination make yourself visible!' I declared. 
At this point I seriously doubted my sanity. 
  'Look again! I am the good looking one with the purest white petals and a yellow heart of gold'
 Stunned, I was now certain madness loomed and I was headed for hospital, I made to get away from there fast.
   'No! Don't go please, I would love to talk to you about many things. I have been watching you very closely. Why do you work so hard, and worry so much?'
  I thought, Why should I be worried about one small insignificant voice claiming to be a natural being.
  'What do you mean by petals and a yellow heart? Do you mean to say you are a common Daisy? If so, I can't tell one of you from another, you all look the same to me!'
The tiny Daisies voice reflected a note of annoyance as it politely stated. 
   'Less of the common, Big-Feet. We have a unique way of survival that excludes individuality and we are rooted here as one. Funny though, I can never differentiate the different clodhoppers that stomp  around and squash our leaves and petals!'
   'Listen Daisy, if you actually are a talking flower how did you acquire the language I use, and how do you manage to express yourself? You ask me why I work so hard, I have to say the garden would quickly go to rack and ruin if I stood rooted to the spot like a daisy!'
   'My language skills are a result of much study of your people's thought patterns and I am the result of much floral cross-breeding. We have very  friendly relations with your newborn babies and we mingle our minds with them and learn your language as they learn language.'
   'That's amazing!' I shouted to the array of daisies around my feet,
I was desperately trying to identify which of the numerous daisies was actually responsible for the conversation. I wanted to dig it up and put it in a pot to take indoors and perhaps have many deep inter-species conversations.
  Then I heard a sound that was suspiciously like a giggle coming from the vicinity of my neighbours fence. Then a chuckle was clearly evident leading to an embarrassing roar of laughter, that led to enormous fits of laughter. My face became bright red as I realised the implication of these odious sounds.
 Realisation dawned as I remembered my neighbour was a ventriloquist and very skilled at throwing his voice.

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.



~~

I wrote the above piece of writing in response to an e-mail from Margaret Johnson announcing a competition.

"In no more than 500 words, demonstrate something you learnt on the WriteUP Creative Writing Course you took part in. Some of you have taken part in longer courses than others, so you lot will have more choice about what to demonstrate, but all of you should be able at the very least to show me a character that you've brought to life.

You can write anything you like, but no more than the 500 word limit, and please state at the end of your piece what aspect of your learning you have intended to show in your piece - for example, if you're intending to show me a three-dimensional character, say this. Or if you want to show me you can write and set out dialogue, say that etc."

The closing date is Friday 14th August.

The prize will be a £5 voucher redeemable against your next WriteUP Course. I know, it's not a lot, but think of the glory!!! 
~~~~~~~


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FINAL DAY OF Margaret Johnson's  WRITING GROUP 

5/7/2015

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We were a few minutes early and we stopped to sit by the river, where I went over the notes that Margaret J. had provided last week and read over my story once again before we arrived. 
 The writers assembled, we started with a couple of hints from Margaret then there was a draw to see who would start first to read their work out loud to the group. My name came up as the first and I began to slowly read my work. I finished reading my presentation then Margaret J. encouraged the others to criticise, I was expected to keep quiet while this was happening. I was mildly surprised that most of the feedback was positive. Etienne remarked that he actually liked the way I read the story aloud. I felt quite satisfied with the results of these responses.

Points to remember~

~ I will certainly be using dialogue a lot more than I usually do when I write in the future. 
  ~Theme was another aspect that I have learned about. I will be certainly looking for the theme that runs through everything I write in the future.
 I got an excellent feedback printout from Margaret J. and on the basis of this I think I can improve and enlarge this story into a posible book. I will qoute one paragraph from this excellent summary as I like the way she has expressed this.

"I think you have created a really interesting character in Maxwell, John, it just needs a bit more clarity I think."

These are the suggestions for changes and/or improvements

1) Lose the first section.
2) In places more clarity is needed, for example There was confusion over the funeral that followed on very closely to the letter from the solicitors saying that Maxwell was dead. The assumption was that this was a fake funeral for Maxwell.
3) Clarence Hall came in from nowhere without any explanation about who he is. ( This was because I had cut his introduction out to keep within the 1500 word limit ).  
4) Occasionally I should include more action and/or thoughts/description between lines of dialogue.
eg when Maxwell and his wife are talking in the garden, the first description could be 'threaded into the dialogue,' maybe interspersed with image of men carrying furniture etc past.
5) I changed viewpoint a few times from Maxwell to Clarence Hall and Joey Brown. making the story a bit hoppy. A film-like quality since if it were a screenplay you would hop from character to character in this way.
Occasionally the dialogue felt stilted This is easily fixed by the use of contractions ~ i.e. instead of 'We are broke,' 'We're broke,' and 'We're just leaving.'

My Margaret was the last but one to read her work and this also went down very well with everybody present. The work entitled 'Madam Butterfly,'  was cleverly presented in the Epistolary form, we had had a lesson on this form of writing during the course and Margaret had put her story together brilliantly using this method. 
 The story started when two elderly ladies discover a body in a run down cottage. This is the body of a celebrated Opera singer. Sadly after she had reached the top and sang a role in the Opera, she had an affair with the conductor, Bellini. He rejected her and cut her dead after making her pregnant. She had an abortion and then her parents cut her dead. It seemed she lived as a recluse for a number of years and finally committed suicide. This also went down very well with the rest of the group and Margaret 'J' said with some revision, my Margaret has a very good book to be written.

We may come into contact with Margaret 'J', again if we decide to attend her coffee shop creative writing sessions from 9th September in Norwich at Stephanies Coffee House, Eaton. These will be held from 10am to 12.00pm

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FINAL HOMEWORK SUBMISSION FOR MARGARET JOHNSON ~ 30th JUNE 2015

3/7/2015

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THE UPS AND DOWNS IN THE LIFE OF DICKUS

by John Yeo

Maxwell Braithwaite Dickus, sold his business to a very big bank and became a multi-millionaire instantly.
As with many other windfall wealthy individuals, his actions then followed the easy come easy go philosophy, and he spent recklessly. Maxwell invested heavily in the stock market, and his personal broker encouraged him, buying and selling stock for him in some very questionable outfits.     
Maxwell and his beautiful wife Mary were often seen together in Monte Carlo, Mary would spend time sunbathing on their luxury yacht, while Maxwell spent his time and money in the casinos.
Horse racing was another vice, he was a very valued client of a large bookmaking concern headed by Joey Brown, a very shady character who allowed him an extraordinary credit limit to finance his gambling habit.

Disaster struck without warning. A global stock-market crash destroyed many hopes and dreams. Sadly Maxwell lost everything.

The world was never going to look the same again. The sun would never shine as bright again. Maxwell Braithwaite-Dickus looked at himself in the antique mirror for the last time before the auctioneers arrived to clear his spacious house. Depression loomed as the finality of the crash sank in and the reality of bankruptcy became clear.
Mary was shocked.
'Oh. Why?' She shouted, ' Dammit Maxie, you have bloody done it now!
I have never felt so embarrassed before in my life. You have ruined us!'
'Mary, I'm truly sorry, I thought we would be secure for the rest of our lives, never to worry about money again! My plans are in ruins, I never saw this crash coming.'
'Maxie, I know you so well after all these years. It is so unlike you to put all your eggs in one basket. I really refuse to believe we are as bad off as you are making out. What is going on?'
'I wish you were right, my lovely wife. We are broke, stony broke... I have many debts and some very nasty people are chasing me for money. We may have to go into hiding for a while until I can find a way out of this mess.'
Mary brushed away a tear and cried. 'This is unbelievable! What are we going to do?'

Two men entered the conservatory.
  'Sorry Sir, we have to clear the furniture and effects from this room now.'
'Go ahead! We are just leaving!'

They moved into the beautiful garden and strolled across immaculately manicured lawns. The sun shone gloriously on the lake  teeming with wildfowl and full of fish. Leaving their home would be an awful wrench.

'Max, I had a suspicion that we couldn't go on spending as we have for very much longer. What are we going to do?'
'I have secretly sold the house and transferred the funds to an offshore account Mary. My brother Ferdinand in Paris has agreed to put us up for a while. I am sure you will love it there, the shopping is out of this world.'
'Are you mad? We are running away from here because we are broke and you are suggesting I spend even more.'
'Mary, life's for living, my darling, we have a little money from the sale of the house and I will soon recover my fortunes again.'
'Now listen to me Max, I will hate to leave here as I have loved my house and garden. I will come to France with you but on my terms. There will be no more gambling and squandering of our very little resources in future.'
'Mary, I think you are wonderful! You will never regret staying with me.'

Ferdinand and his family lived in a splendid detached house in the centre of Paris. Mary and Maxwell were made to feel at home.
'Stay as long as you like, we are very pleased to have the company Maxwell, we must get together to catch up properly after dinner tonight.'
Time passed swiftly and Maxwell and Mary blended into the locality seamlessly until two strangers arrived asking many people many questions.
One uneventful day the local patisserie owner M. Boulez, mentioned a mysterious visit of two Englishmen asking questions and showing a great interest in the newcomers.
Ferdinand became very nervous about things and began to worry about the safety of his wife and children. There had been a spate of kidnappings  and he feared for their lives.
Maxwell and Mary were to be on the move again as soon as alternative arrangements could be made.
Mary was soon making enquiries among her very wide circle of  magical friends and a very old friend of a friend offered to help.
'Maxwell my dear, you are going to become an employee on a very large estate in the highlands of Scotland.'



Joey Brown  was very irate when the news arrived from one of his informants  that Dickus had run into trouble and in the words of the messenger. 'Done a runner and disappeared.’
The very sore point with Joey was the five hundred thousand pounds he was owed.

Meanwhile on a remote estate in the highlands of Scotland, Maxwell and Mary were settling in comfortably. Mary missed her house and friends in the city, but she had been introduced and welcomed into the local coven of practitioners of magical arts. Maxwell was employed under an assumed name as the estate manager.
Then one fateful day a letter arrived from a firm of solicitors with regard to a large sum of money in trust for Maxwell that had been forwarded  to Mary by her sister Grace in Colchester. Mary immediately wrote back to Grace imploring her never to reveal their new address to anyone, and enclosed the following letter addressed to the solicitors.


Dear Sirs,
I regret to inform you of the sudden death of Maxwell Braithwaite Dickus.
Please forward all further correspondence to solicitors. Hammond, Jones and Williamson, London EC1.

 A few days later Clarence Hall was talking over the airwaves to Joey Brown.
'Hey Joey, I have just had news that Braithwaite-Dickus is dead. I think this is rather sudden and I will make some more enquiries. We need to meet up and compare notes soon, maybe early next week? Have your team had any luck? We seem to be coming up with dead ends.'
‘No news here Clarrie. That death came out of the blue! Who shot the son-of-bitch? I will get back to you about a meeting. Be lucky my friend.'




 The funeral was extraordinarily well attended. This man was respected, loathed, loved and hated in many places. Some arrived to make sure he was actually dead and to raise a glass in celebratory style. Others were genuinely sad as the deceased had been extraordinarily generous to those who were loyal to him. The media were there in force, this man was a wheeler and dealer who  had a very sketchy history of violence and contrastingly of genuine charity to those in need, this death was news.
Six black horses led the cortège pulling an ornate carriage, many members of the family and some very close personal friends walked slowly behind as the procession wended its way to the cathedral.
Joey Brown was seated above a retail shop with several friends and acquaintances using a pair of very high powered binoculars to survey the mourners in detail.
'I am certain our man is here somewhere, he is sure to break cover to pay his last respects to his late Uncle Alphonso, rumour has it that Dickus is in line to inherit a very large sum of money. I want what he owes me paid back with interest.'
There was a general ripple of assent from everyone there, James Black, his right hand man and personal assistant then replied. 'No worries Boss we have men everywhere, if the scumbag should have the nerve to show his face, we will get him and bring him here!'
So far there had been no luck and it seemed as if the exercise was to be a waste of everyone's time.
Waiting in the cathedral was another group of people with an identical mission. Clarence Hall was there with associates, examining the mourners and the family members in detail.
Maxwell Braithwaite Dickus was a very wanted man in more ways than one, as his Uncle went to his last resting place in style.
As the funeral service began, there was a slight disturbance when the doors were opened to allow the entrance of a latecomer. Clarence did not even  turn his head to assure himself that his time was not wasted, he guessed and signalled to an accomplice.
Meanwhile Joey Brown was hopping mad as a black sedan with heavily tinted windows had smashed into the windows of the shop below and the occupants had fled. This took everyone's attention away from the search and the place was crawling with police who were trying to establish the facts of how it happened. Joey's men were in hot pursuit of the occupants while the object of the afternoons exercise was paying his last respects in the cathedral.
When the service ended and the congregation began to file out, Clarence Hall became mystified as his people were unable to locate Dickus among the crowd of mourners. The family and close friends were expected to gather in a luxury hotel in the centre of the city and Clarence and friends raced to intercept him at the wake.
Meanwhile a close friend of Mary was accompanying an infirm man in a wheelchair to the airport to catch a flight back to Scotland. Mary, was there to meet her and the plane took off.
'Phew, that was a close run escape Mary, it was wonderful how that PI firm was able to infiltrate and read every move our pursuers made. How did they do it! They are brilliant at the job they do.'
'I have known Marg for years.'  Mary replied, 'She does not come cheap, but our fortunes have changed suddenly and when Alphonso's will is settled, we will be very wealthy again!'
'Excellent!' Exclaimed Maxwell.
'Just one last thing Maxie, I know you will not like this. I have arranged for Marg to seek out all of your creditors and settle all your gambling debts without delay. In future I will handle our finances my love.'
'All our finances?  Mary, my  darling.'

 Copyright © ~ Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved



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