In Competition No. 3193 you were invited to submit clerihews (two couplets, AABB, metrically clunky, humorous in tone) on members of the royal family, past or present. This one was a crowd-pleaser and drew a whopping entry. An inevitable element of repetition didn’t detract from the overall excellence, so congratulations, all round. I was sorry
In Competition No. 3192 you were invited to submit a short story that features an animal (or animals) taking revenge on humankind. The spur for this challenge was John Gray’s engaging and insightful book Feline Philosophy, which alerted me to Patricia Highsmith’s short story ‘Ming’s Biggest Prey’, about a Siamese cat who eliminates a human
In Competition No. 3191 you were invited to submit a Shakespearean soliloquy reflecting on the news that the Bard has been cancelled by some US academics. Teachers in the States have called into question the centrality of Shakespeare in the English curriculum given that his works are, according to Amanda MacGregor, writing in the School
In Competition No. 3190 you were invited to submit the first paragraph of your least favourite type of novel. Sci-fi was the most well represented genre by a long way, with many thinking along similar lines. Here’s a flavour from Joe Houlihan: Not for the first time, Drod Vordant was struck by the ethereal beauty
In Competition No. 3189 you were invited to submit a poem about a favourite smell. This challenge certainly seemed to strike a chord — not surprising, perhaps, given the looming threat of Covid-induced anosmia. As Brian Murdoch puts it: Be ever grateful for your sense of smell!Treat no aroma with the least disdain,In case some
In Competition No. 3188, a challenge designed to make us all feel better about the looming prospect of another enforced staycation, you were invited to submit a postcard from a friend on holiday abroad that makes you relieved you aren’t there. Whenever I find myself dreaming of a trip to see the Northern Lights, I
In Competition No. 3187 you were asked to provide a sea shanty on a topical theme. This challenge was an invitation to follow in the slipstream of Nathan Evans, the postal worker and TikTokker whose rendition of the 19th-century whaling song ‘The Wellerman’ went viral and gave rise to #ShantyTok. Among the multiple variations on
In Competition No. 3186 you were invited to supply an acrostic poem praising or dispraising a public figure, in which the word/s spelled out by the first letter of each line directly contradicts what the poem is saying. In an era of fake news, rampant conspiracy theories and ever-spiralling paranoia, acrostics are having a moment:
In Competition No. 3185 you were invited to compose a sonnet called ‘England in 2021’. The challenge was inspired by Shelley’s political sonnet ‘England in 1819’, in which he paints a scathing picture of a broken country, rotten to the core, and rages against king (‘old, mad, blind, despised, and dying’), aristocracy, parliament, church and
In Competition No. 3184 you were invited to tell a joke in verse form. This challenge, suggested by a reader and coming at a time when we could all do with a laugh, drew a large and jolly entry. As space is short, I pause only to salute stellar performances all around before handing over
In Competition No. 3183 you were invited to submit a short story entitled ‘My Year of Living [insert adverb of your choice here]’. Highlights in a varied and engaging entry included John Priestland’s ‘Year of Living Paradoxically’, which combined elements of Hilbert’s Infinite Hotel Paradox with the Grandfather Paradox (think Back to the Future), and
In Competition No. 3182 you were invited to rewrite a famous piece of light verse with a dirge-like, hieratic tone (as if we need any more doom and gloom). Robert Schechter put a downer on light verse supremo Ogden Nash’s pithy ‘Reflections on Ice-Breaking’, ‘Candy is dandy but liquor is quicker’: Time is a burden
In Competition No. 3181 you were invited to submit a letter by a publisher rejecting a well-known literary classic. The authors of Lolita and The Bell Jar (‘an ill-conceived, poorly written novel’) are among distinguished recipients of multiple rejections. And T.S. Eliot famously turned down George Orwell’s Animal Farm (its shortcomings included the wrong type
In Competition No. 3180 you were invited to submit a Belloc-esque cautionary tale featuring a high-profile public figure. Cautionary Tales for Children, published in 1907 and ‘designed for the admonition of children between the ages of eight and fourteen years’, featured such cruel and hideous comeuppances as being eaten, feet upwards, by a lion and
In Competition No. 3179 you were invited to submit a Christmas hit single rewritten as a sonnet. This seasonal challenge was embraced with gusto, and highlights, in a magnificent entry, ranged from Ian Barker’s version of Jona Lewie’s catchy and affecting ‘Stop the Cavalry’ to Basil Ransome-Davies’s reworking of the peerless Eartha Kitt’s innuendo-laden ‘Santa
In Competition No. 3178 you were invited to submit an extract from a Dickensian novel based around the name of someone in political life. Inspired titles, in a modestly sized but accomplished entry, included A Tale of Two Pritis (David Silverman and Joe Houlihan) and Paul A. Freeman’s Barnier Fudge. The winners below take £25
In Competition No. 3177 you were invited to submit a well-known fictional person’s view of their author. Highlights in a varied and engaging entry included Janine Beacham’s Mrs Malaprop: ‘I am indelibly proud to be the procreation of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, a calibrated writer of plagues…’; Anthony Blanche’s withering verdict on Evelyn Waugh as told
In Competition No. 3176 you were invited to write a poem to a city. This challenge was inspired by both Simon Armitage’s letter to London (‘Dear London, I’ve applied for a restraining order requiring that you remain 200 miles from Huddersfield at all times…’), and William McGonagall’s inadvertently hilarious ‘Jottings of New York’, of which
In Competition No. 3175 you were invited to submit a prequel to a well-known poem. C. Paul Evans’s opening to a prequel to the nation’s favourite poem caught my eye: My publishers had telephoned to askFor something inspirational and spiffy:I told them I would think about the task,But mentioned I was feeling somewhat iffy… As
In Competition No. 3174 you were invited to write a poem in which each line begins with the letters A S D F G H J K L Z X C V B N M, in that order. One entry began: ‘Asinine/ Stupid/ Dumb/ Fatuous…’, and continued in a similar vein; a comment, perhaps, on
