Short Story: Jan 2020

Milliseconds

It’s the moment between seeing it and doing something about it.  That’s what makes the difference. It’s a quarter of a second: less than a heartbeat, the blink of an eye. It can be the time between living and not living. It’s called reaction time.

You need to have your wits about you. Things happen quickly, and you never know when: red lights blink when someone brakes ahead, doors of parked cars swing open, oblivious pedestrians wander aimlessly – more interested in the trivia of the moment than the perils thundering endlessly by on the highway.

On this road the limit is thirty. No one ever sticks to that, do they? It feels almost pedestrian. A little under forty, and that’s OK. You’ve done it a thousand times before. You know it by rote: from forty you can bring a car to rest in a hundred and eighteen feet – thirty-seven of those travelled whilst you just think about it. It could be less with your wits about you and a little skill.

Now there’s the problem with vehicles parked on the other side of the road. There’s not enough width for two streams of traffic. The red van is stopped beyond them, flashing headlamps inviting you and the others to pass. A whole queue is stacked up behind him. Time to get a move on: it’s only manners. It’s narrow, but that’s OK. No oncoming to worry about. The sooner you’re through the obstruction the better. 

Then the kid is there. You see the replica shirt, the denim jeans and unruly mop of blond hair: one moment on the kerbside, the next off – only concerned to avoid becoming ‘it’ in some inappropriate game of tag. In a heartbeat your foot slams the brake and your tyres are screaming. And he’s just standing there.

In slow motion you see him turn and face you as you bear down. You see the shock spread upon his face, his mouth gape, his eyes open wide. He freezes! Hope, hope, hope you can stop; there is no chance to swerve, and he grows ever nearer.

 He’s standing inches from your bumper when you finally lurch to a halt: you’re eyeball to eyeball. In the next half instant, images of what might have been flood your brain. Thoughts of relief, horror and remorse begin to form. With less than a foot to spare, you made it.

It’s the truck behind that didn’t make it.

A split second of calm, then an ear-splitting impact. You and your car are hurled  along the road, negating those precious inches – and a car’s length more.

It’s the moment between seeing it and doing something about it. That’s what makes the difference. A quarter of a second. Enough for a startled kid to leap out of the way and watch in horror a mishap that befalls someone else.

 

Burnlet Literary Festival

Burnley Literary Festival

Panocticon were privileged to kick off the Author's Stage on Saturday at Burnley Literary festival. Readings from our collection 'Lancashire Tales, Light and Dark' and a complete Flash Fiction Novel were well received, and we were happy to launch our short story competition. Details of the competition can be found below, on this blog.

Afterwards we enjoyed presentations by other writers, a workshop presented by playwright Jackie Hagan and some novel activities all connected with Creative Writing. The festival took place over three days, Friday to Sunday, and the range of events ensured that there was something for every inclination, if only sipping coffee in Rhode Island Cafe whilst surrounded with the work of local writers.

It was a splendid opportunity to meet other writers, and we made quite a few new friends. A writers' forum in That 0282 Place (in Burnley Library) looks like the start of something very special. 

Although attendances at many events were disappointingly low, we enjoyed the festival immensely, and now look forward to next year's @BurnleyLitFest . 

Burnley Literary Festival

Panocticon Short Story Completion Competition for Burnley Literary Festival

We promised you a competition for Burnley Literary Festival, so here it is. We will be introducing  it on Saturday 5th October 2019 on the stage in Burnley Market Hall, 10.15—10.45, and we’re putting it here, too, in case we run short of printed material or anyone misses getting the printed sheet. Here goes:

Marenga isn’t much of a place. Even using the word place smacks of exaggeration. The permanent population, including dogs, doesn’t amount to Bobby Mitchell’s IQ, and we all know he’s never going to set the world alight.

Two streets run roughly north to south: High Street, which is the main street, and Low Street, which isn’t. Connecting them are half a dozen rutted tracks lined with tumbledown dwellings and outbuildings, sundry huts and what might pass for gardens, with a little imagination. You wouldn’t drive along any of them after a decent downpour.

High Street has all the places people from roundabout come for.  There’s Hugo’s Hardware Emporium and Tool Shop, which is the main attraction. Then there’s the post office, general store, bottle shop and bakery, which are all the same place, run by Ma Bellman.  Next to that there’s the pub and that only stays open because Benjy Newcombe earns most of his income making fake Abo artwork for tourist shops in Yarborough.  After that there’s a cafe that opens once in a while, the church, the graveyard, a couple of houses and then you’re out in the sticks again.

An old rail track runs right down the middle of High Street. It hasn’t seen a train in five years, and the one before was five years further back. They ought to take the rails up, but hey, you never know: there might be another train along anytime. Besides, that would involve a decision: not something to rush into. Make decisions and you have to live with the consequences. Or someone else does.

Take Rosemary Warne for instance. She took it into her head that since she’d taken the trouble to learn reading and writing she could to do better for herself than spend a life weighing out nails in Hugo’s shop. She opted for a college education and took herself off to Sydney.

And there were consequences. Her departure left a hole in her family, if not at Hugo’s. There was no shortage of takers for her job.

Her kinfolk all took it in different ways. Her dad took it hardest. Little by little he crawled into a bottle and didn’t seem ready to come out again. Pity. Algy Warne is a decent bloke.

It all made for a serious situation. For one thing local folk needed his big truck on the road, and in his condition that wasn’t going to happen with anyone’s approval. Besides, Algy was a not half-bad spin bowler and if he wasn’t up to the mark things could go very badly in the upcoming match against Barra. Something had to be done, but what?

So there it is. You have a location, a set of characters, and a couple of problems. So what happens next? Can you finish the story? Which character will you pick? Which problem will you take on?

We’re offering a prize of any one of our books or a £5 book token for the best ending.~

Email your entries to panocticon@gmail.com before 30th October, and we’ll let you know the winner. (We will not use your email for any other purpose.) Put your entry in the body of the email or in an .rtf or .doc attachment. (Sorry, we’re only offering the prize to entrants within the British Isles - including RoI - though we’d be happy to see ideas from anywhere.)

We’re not going to count, but please keep it to about 1000–1500 words (much shorter is OK) and we don’t mind if you alter the stem a little to make it fit your tale better. We’re looking for a strong storyline with unexpected twists~and a good writing style.

There were some really interesting results when we ran this competition before, so let’s see what turns up this time.

Good luck!

Burnley Literary Festival

Panocticon will be delighted to participate in the Burnley Literary Festival, Fri 4 Oct—Sun 6 Oct 2019. We will give a presentation in Burnley Market Hall on Saturday 5 Oct  10.15—10.45.

We will talk about how we came together as a Creative Writing group, our work, and how we went about the task of getting our work published. There will be a few stories to tell, some short and some tall, and maybe there will be a chance for  visitors to do a little creative writing of their own with a little competition.

Remember we meet at Tastebuds, Whalley, every Tuesday at 9.30 am. These are very informal gatherings, not always productive but always interesting, and we are always happy to meet anyone who cares to drop in.

Hoping to meet you on Saturday 5th; see you there!

So do we read franchises now?

I'm afraid this is one of those posts which kicks off with a question, but is unlikely to go anywhere definite, let alone an answer. The question was sparked off in my mind by a post on io9 about Disney's franchise based future. The writer had just visited the new Avatar theme park at Disney World, and was duly amazed by the huge financial and creative investment in the world of Avatar, James Cameron's SF blockbuster from 2009.

There's no doubt that even if that film has faded away in your mind, or even if you've never seen the film, that a visit to the theme park will be an entertaining experience. Being Disney, it couldn't be anything else, they're the consummate masters of this sort of thing.

Many people have found this news odd, because although Avatar was wildly successful, that was mainly off the back of its spectacle, and it didn't lead to any long lasting cult fandom, such as we see with Star Wars. Well, we are soon(?) going to see the first of 4 (yes, I said FOUR) follow-ups to that first film, and this is the short answer to the question of why Disney have invested so much in the theme park. But one still wrestles with the rationale of this whole process. We're now used to CGI special effects to a degree we never were before, and when all's said and done, the actual story of Avatar was weak and unoriginal. Unless James Cameron has expert help with that for the follow-ups, it's hard to see them being as successful as that startling first film. There's no large fan base to guarantee success.

...Which leads me back to my first question. Do stories matter anymore? Does storytelling, in any medium - print, film, theatre etc.? I would suggest that it really doesn't, and I hate to say such a thing, because we're the poorer for it. However, my position is old-fashioned, isn't it? The cultural landscape is dominated by franchises, just as the commercial landscape is dominated by big brands. Obviously, that's what a franchise is, a brand. Because Disney is Disney, they know how to make money out of this 'property'. Instead of strong stories, I predict the storytelling will be dictated by the need to lead the viewer from one set piece spectacle to the next. Some scenes will have no function beyond providing the material for spin off computer games. We're now consumers, rather than intelligent readers, and we have become inured to digesting things in bites. Snacking, rather than dining, if you like.

And is this true of books as well? That's an awful thought; we like to think that books are the last refuge for more cultivated and intelligent viewers/readers/listeners. But the literary landscape is also dominated by big names and franchises. Any successful book, especially at the popular end of the market, is inevitably followed by another, no matter how little needed it is. As this image suggests, authors have long been guilty of overturning their narratives under commercial pressure - after all, Holmes was supposed to be well and truly dead after falling into the Reichenbach Falls with Moriarty, wasn't he? But at least Conan Doyle could write a good story. My impression is that in the age of the franchise, narrative and plot have become the tortured slaves of commerce.