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short story competition winner, Kate Thurlow  Kate Thurlow Kate enjoys short story writing with its challenge of bringing the story to an end within a word limit. She loves to see how a story unfolds in front of her, almost without her control. She regularly enters short story competitions, and has been runner up and short-listed in Writing Magazine. A new recent writing venture is a novel about an 11-year old child. She’s done various courses over the years, and belongs to a Writing Group where she feels she benefits from the comments of other writers. Kate had the central idea for her winning story as soon as she saw the theme – the image of the boy wearing the mask. It was unusual in her experience for the end of the story to arrive first, and she had to work out what would lead up to that point. Although she was told she was short-listed a few weeks before, it was a complete surprise to her on the night to be announced the winner. Kate said that she enjoyed her win very much – especially her short story being appreciated by such an accomplished writer as Kate Pullinger, and the pleasure of meeting her. It had given her confidence with her writing. Here is her story: WOLF WIRE By Kate Thurlow This is how I began to learn I could fit in, I could have a place. It was all down to wire, chicken wire – it usually cages things in. I never wanted to go to summer camp. Meetings once a week are enough, even fun sometimes. The other boys are alright, mostly, but I’m not like them. There are girls too. They make me feel strange. My parents wanted me to go, to mix in. ‘Be good for you,’ they said. Once there, it wasn’t so bad. My patrol was on wood-duty. We had to collect wood for the campfire that night. I like it amongst the trees, the breeze made the leaves sing. It smelt earthy. ‘Here, big guy, hold your arms out,’ Billy said. I stood as he layered log after log until Dave our patrol leader came over. ‘ Leave him be Billy.’ My arms ached to bursting but I got to the campfire circle before I dropped them. ‘Well done Harry,’ Dave signed, his thumbs up. ‘Have you thought about your skit for tonight?’ I shook my head. I didn’t like people looking at me. At break time we drank from tin mugs, ate digestives. They were not McVities. I went to my tent and found Loop, my wolf. Mum said I shouldn’t bring Loop, the others might laugh. Some do that already but I didn’t tell her that. She’d be sad. Anyway, even Billy had a teddy, he just hid it. I love wolves. I’ve got wolf wallpaper, wolf pictures, wolf DVDs and a blanket with a wolf, standing on a rock, howling in the moonlight. Dave came into the tent. ‘ Watcha Harry. You ok?’ I nodded. ‘Got Loop?’ I nodded. ‘Why do you like wolves so much?’ I shrugged. ‘ Dunno.’ I felt prickly, tears came. I couldn’t hear a sound. ‘I’d just like to be one.’ Dave patted my head and left. A few minutes later he was back, smiling, with Laura. She’s a girl. ‘ I’ve an idea for campfire. Laura will help if you want to do this.’ We spent all afternoon cutting, bending, tying together some old chicken wire Dave had found. It was thin, sharp. We twisted it into shape. Laura stretched a black jumper over the frame, cut, stitched, padded the inside with paper towels. I worried about her jumper. ‘ It’s old, just to sleep in if I’m cold.’ I thought, I could hold her, if she needed warming. My face got hot. The grass was covered in bits of wire, jumper, paper, our fingers sore, bleeding, but it was finished. We smiled. Together. I borrowed a grey blanket. The campfire burned. The skits were good. I did mine last, as the embers sparked red, and faces were in shadow. Dave pulled my wire mask over my head. He tied the blanket round my shoulders. All was quiet. They waited for me to join them. I threw back my head, howled, and leapt into the circle.. |