The Reading

Cathy Olliffe (Third Place), Robert M. Murdoch (Second Place), Paul Feist (Honourable Mention) 

and Karen Wehrstein (First Place) happily clutch their certificates and cheques following 

award presentations for the Muskoka Short Story Contest, hosted by 

Gravenhurst's Blank Page Writers Group and Metroland North Media. 

The reading night was held in the Gravenhurst Public Library 

last Thursday evening.

Photo by Dave Webster

Maybe it was just coffee and cookies in the children's room at the local library but, to me, it was a really, really big shew.
Winning third place in the Muskoka Short Story Contest was an affirmation that maybe I can write. That maybe I don't completely suck. That maybe writing is a worthwhile pursuit. That maybe I can seriously consider doing more of this.
I'm just full of confidence, aren't I? Hey, you're no different - show me a writer and I'll show you a bundle of insecurity, pronouns and emotional wreckage. I was reading what Jon Strother had to say about writers needing to develop a thick skin and I can no sooner do that than wake up 50 pounds lighter and 25 years younger with blonde hair.
I think all of the writers who placed in the contest were equally amazed to be there. And yet all of them display an extraordinary amount of talent.

Take Paul Feist, for example. He wrote one of my favourite stories of the evening. It was funny, it was sad, it was human. His sentimental tale The Button introduced us to an elderly couple and their adopted son. It was character-rich and beautifully written. Paul, a local actor and an affable retired advertising salesman, told it with passion. I had tears in my eyes when he was done.
I know Paul a little bit - he just stepped away from his long-time career at the Bracebridge Examiner, where I work designing ads and he worked selling them. He was a joy around the office, with his booming voice and his self-deprecating humour. He is definitely missed and it was a pleasure to see him and his lovely wife on Thursday.
Robert Murdoch, the second prize winner, was probably the most surprised about his award. He doesn't profess to be a writer but boy, does he know how to put pen to paper. Robert's funny story Lessons Hard Learned about setting his outdoor woodstove (and the neighbourhood) on fire kept everybody giggling.

Karen Wehrstein was the real star of the show. An novelist, blogger and co-organizer of this weekend's Muskoka Novel Marathon, Karen wrote Her Husband's Killer as a futuristic sci fi loaded with real human emotion. If you love science fiction, you'll want to check out Karen's website Chevenga Lives.
As for me, I couldn't have been any more tickled, standing up at the front of the room, reading For Bella, the story about a man who drowned his children in a rain barrel; a horrible story, but something I felt compelled to write.

I'd like to thank the judges of the contest for their hard work, especially novelist Jacqueline Stirrup (the woman in the green dress pictured with Karen) who made me feel so welcome. I had coffee with Jackie one day and I came away very impressed. I'd also like to thank Tracy Nita Pender for talking me into entering; my fiance Dave Webster who puts up with me at the computer for hours at a time; and all my online blogging buddies who are so supportive.
My prize was $25. That's a lot of money. Not sure what I'm going to do with it. I am thinking of framing it and hanging it on a wall. The first money I ever made writing fiction.
Look out, Stephen King, here I come.
***
By the way I'm nervous and pumped about the Muskoka Novel Marathon. Thirty writers (a full house) will be devoting the entire weekend to being in one room in Huntsville, glued to their computers, trying to write the bones of a novel in that short amount of time.
Are they crazy?
Am I crazy?
Um, yeah!
More than just a way to get some writing done, the marathon is also a fundraiser for literacy. I've been collecting pledges from everyone I know, and now am compelled to show up and try to write something.
I've never, ever seriously considered writing a novel. It sounds BIG. Almost TOO BIG. Ostentatious, even.
Eegads, what am I getting myself into?
More on this later... by the way, if you feel you have to send me big lumps of cash, I will not turn you down. It's a good cause.
Good yes,
Scary, oh yeah.