Creative Writing Competition Winner
Glenda Janes from Mitcham, Victoria is the overall winner of this year's Creative Writing Competition for her fictional short story, The Gate.
Click here to read the winning entry.
"I am both thrilled and surprised to have won," says Glenda. "I initially thought that being given a theme ('Crossing Boundaries') would make the writing easier but it didn't. I tried to think of the boundaries we encounter in our day-to-day lives with MS, but then I came to the conclusion that I don't like to acknowledge my MS anymore than I have to. Instead, I thought of different meanings of 'boundaries', one of which was 'gate'. I let my mind turn this idea over and then, because I had freed my imagination from the limitations of applying the theme to MS, cheeky young Elizabeth was created, the story was born and it took on a life of its own.
"I love writing because it is utterly liberating. It allows the imagination to take over. I can create characters that do things that I wouldn't normally do, I can create places that don't exist, I can create situations that resolve the way I want them to, and I can play with words.
"I also attend a weekly creative writing class. Even though writing is a solitary pursuit, [everyone in the class] feels that being a part of such a supportive group makes the writing that much easier and more pleasurable.
"I am very pleased to have won this year's competition. "
Glenda has won a $200 prize pack from Borders, which includes a copy of two new-release books – Seasons by Donna Hay and MasterChef Australia, The Cookbook Volume 1 by the judges and contestants on MasterChef – plus her choice of 11 of Australia's favourite Penguin classic novels.
Visit www.borders.com.au for more information on their latest books, music and DVDs.
The Gate
Elizabeth was bored. It was the summer holidays and she had been sent to her grandparents' place for the weeks her mother had to work. She usually enjoyed the mornings; the three of them would always do something interesting, but during the afternoon, there was little for her to do while her grandparents rested for an hour or so.
Elizabeth decided to play outside. She left her room and tiptoed as quietly as she could down the hallway so as not to wake her grandparents. She heard muffled snores as she passed their room, and was secure knowing that she was unnoticed so far. She continued her way through the kitchen and the sunroom, quickly reaching the back door. She turned the door handle as quietly as she could. She pulled the door open and stepped through.
Skipping down the path, blonde curls bouncing, she spotted the gate at the back of the yard, the one her Grandpa had told her never to open or to go through. He never did tell her why she couldn't. She wondered if his warning included climbing the fence-high gate and looking over?
Since her Grandpa was usually very clear with his instructions, she decided that looking over the gate was quite different to opening it or going through it. She clambered up the crossbeams, until she could peer over the top of the gate. But she was puzzled. All that she could see were the overhanging branches of trees which met above the laneway. They obscured her view beyond a few metres either way, and she felt annoyed and let down.
She decided to go inside and berate her grandfather for getting her all interested in something, only to find out it was nothing. She jumped backwards off the gate, but landed awkwardly. She lay on the soft earth until the woozy feeling in her head had eased. Brushing leaves from her jeans and top as she picked herself up, she looked towards the house. It was no longer there.
Her stomach dropped in terror. Her fists clenched, her finger nails digging into the palms of her hands. She felt nauseous and looked around her to see if there was anything which seemed familiar. 'Grandma, Grandpa,' she called out. 'Where are you?'
She ran a few steps ahead, then stopped, looking up at the biggest tree she had ever seen. A slate grey sky could barely be seen through its thick foliage. She looked around. A forest of huge lilly pillies surrounded her, their berries carpeting the ground in a spongy sea of rich purple. The density of the trees limited her view to what was directly in front of her. The sound of a squawking crow made her jump; she clapped her hands over her ears at a sudden rumble of thunder. She desperately looked for something familiar, but found nothing, the alien scenery bringing on a panic she had never experienced before.
Turning her head, her gaze settled on the only familiar sight – that gate that she had been forbidden to go through. 'And I never even went through it. I only looked over it,' she cried, anger rising through her simmering fear. She approached the gate again, warily this time. As before, she found handholds and began to climb. She felt the wetness of a raindrop on the back of her hand, then another and another. She hoisted herself up until she was high enough to see over the top again, and almost fell off when she saw the back of her grandparents' house staring back at her. She closed her eyes for a moment, grateful that she was back in the land of familiarity, even if the house was in the wrong place.
Sliding off the gate, she turned the handle and opened it. She ran towards the house, raindrops wetting her face, and in her haste tripped over an exposed root of the lilly pilly tree which stood in the middle of her grandparents' backyard. She landed with a thud, momentarily losing her bearings.
Then seemingly from a distance, she heard: 'Come on, sweetheart. Wake up. Bill, do you think we ought to take her to the hospital?'
'Maybe not. Look, she's coming round now,' she heard her grandfather's raspy voice reply.
'Bethy, come on, love, talk to me.'
'Grandma? What happened? How did your house move?'
'What do you mean, how did the house move?'
'I told her not to climb that gate; I knew it would get her into trouble,' her grandfather mumbled. 'At least she won't be doing that again.'
'Come on Bill. Ease up, will you? She's hurt. At least let's take her to the doctor.'
Elizabeth's grandfather lifted her into the back seat of the car, securing her seatbelt gently over her. She closed her eyes, happy to be back with her grandparents in the world she knew. Her thoughts drifting, she couldn't help but wonder what she would see the next time she peered over the forbidden gate. Would it be as deliciously scary?
By Glenda Janes (© 2010)