Adjudicator’s comments

I have awarded 1^st place to Samuel Wheeler for John Carpenter.  The story is well-crafted, with a good opening paragraph, plenty  of pace and a well-rounded narrative.  Impressive!

2^nd place goes to the rather less-inspiringly titled An Imaginary Friend of Mine, by Ellie Armstrong.  Despite the title, the writer demonstrates good powers of description and a well-developed sense of humour.  Also, interestingly, it was one of the few entries which didn’t immediately reveal the gender of the writer.

I had some difficulty is selecting a third prize-winner, because there were several quite strong contenders.  In the end I decided on A Difficult Time by Nicole Bonser.  Her story showed a good sense of vocabulary, was well-structured and quite convincing.

Short-listed were the whacky 22341 Secret Lab 4467 by Oliver Atkinson.  It deserves mention for the title alone, and was wonderfully imaginative: Ghostlasting Friendship by Katrina Mutton, which shows good pace and excellent use of vocabulary; My Green Round Teddy by Claudia Hayward, which was a charming little story, and lastly Zwink and Me by Kieran Storer, which again showed great imagination.

All the entrants are to be commended for their efforts.  It’s good to see that creative writing is alive and kicking in Leicestershire!

Georgie Hale

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The winning entry by Samuel Wheeler

                                       John Carpenter

There was something behind the hedge, something moving. Leaves

fluttered in the seaside breeze, dancing in the cool wind; I side-stepped

towards a gap in the bristly branches, watching the thing behind the bush.

Suddenly, I lunged through the gap. A boy jumped backwards,

stumbling, startled, he was very pale. "Erm, sorry," I muttered.

"Oh th-that's okay," he stuttered, "my name's J-John, John Carpenter - by

the way." John looked slightly less scared and slightly more comfortable,

"Wanna do somin'," he said, growing more confident by the minute.

I asked him where he lived, "Downin'Street," he replied," just over...

there!" He turned around and pointed to my right.

"Downing Street, wasn't that demolished ten years ago?" I asked,

"so what you talkin' about?" With that, the subject was dropped, and I went to

fetch the ball that I'd brought.

As it turned out, John was somewhat good at football, and he was almost

impossible to tackle, in spite of the fact that everyone in my class seemed to

think I was the best defender out of all of them. "Who do you support?" I

wondered aloud, "Derby - but not 'cause they're winnin' the firs' division, I used

to live in Derbyshire!" he added, "whadda 'bout you?"

"Same," I replied," but, we just got relegated from the premier league, we're not top of a league

two divisions lower!" But, just then, my Mum called me to come in for tea,

"See ya tommorer!" yelled John as I flew back across the field to the cottage we had rented

for the fortnight.

For the next few days, all day every day, I was out playing with my new friend; he

was the best friend I ever had. There was one game that he liked in particular, and he

insisted that we played it all the time, called knock and run. You had to creep up to a house,

knock on the door, and run for your life around the corner; apparently John had played it

all the time back in his old home of Derby.

So we ran down the mile long road to the little fishing town, and played knock and

run, then knock and run! We would share the picnic lunch that Mum had made for me and

play a few games of footy, then go back to knock and run, but a week later, when I shot

down to the field as close to the town as possible and as far away from the cliff as

possible, (this is where we used to meet, John specifically said it mustn't be too close to

the edge of the cliff,) John wasn't there. I glanced at my watch, I was precisely on time,

what was he doing? After fifteen minutes, I gave up, and walked down to the cliff edge,

finding a handy bench. I sat myself down, and then noticed some writing engraved into the

wood. It read: 'In memory of John Carpenter, born 1958, died 1969.'