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Christmas VOAT?
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30-11-2014 9:14am#1Thoughts? Could be general Yuletide stories or something more specific - perhaps titles of songs or, if we manage to get somewhere around 12 (a bit ambitious, I know), taking the "Days" as prompts: "Lords A-Leaping", "Geese A-Laying" etc. Happy to organise it, though don't want to overstep my bounds either... Anyway, first things first: please indicate your interest below!
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echo beach wrote: »Count me in although I'm not that keen on Lords a-Leaping, etc but who knows it could work.
Yeah, on 2nd thought that's a terrible idea :P Christmas songs could work, though - maybe a mixture of hymns and pop! 0 -
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Ok, just mulling over a proposed timeline: working backwards, I would say it'd be better to have voting and all finished before the Big Days themselves, so would probably be aiming for votes to close around the 23rd. Allowing, say, 5 days for voting, that'd put the deadline for submitting at Dec 18th - and allowing 10 days to write the story itself would mean people getting their prompts on the 7th/8th... So that gives folks a week to sign up, either here or by PM. That sound good to everyone? Also, can I enter it myself even if I'm doing the organising?
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Some previous examples here
11 - Discussion http://www.boards.ie/vbulletin/showthread.php?p=83042229
11 - Voting http://www.boards.ie/vbulletin/showthread.php?p=83270549
10 - Discussion http://www.boards.ie/vbulletin/showthread.php?p=80877604
10 - Voting http://www.boards.ie/vbulletin/showthread.php?p=81250724
Might take a leaf from their cyber books and simply have anyone who's interested PM before the closing date to get their prompt... Looks like we have enough to make it some sort of contest anyway!0 -
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Ha, was going to post a gentle reminder later tonight - yep, just 3 days left folks! (up to midnight on Wed/Thurs) Only 1 story in so far but about a dozen signed up, so if the majority come up with the goods we should hopefully have enough to make it a nice wee competition 0
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I'm only teasing, DK.
What's your novel about?
:P
That's a good question. I suppose it's about a guy who's an insomniac who sees his dead wife's ghost. He's looking for a way to get some sleep and get rid of the ghost, and meets a woman on an online support group with similar goals. There's shagging and brain surgery, though not in the same scene you'll be glad to hear. :pac: Thriller with a touch of sci-fi, basically.0 -
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Join Date:Posts: 28740
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Good news everyone! Due to a contestant having a wee mix-up with the deadline, we even have a 'bonus' story for this round - it obviously wouldn't be quite fair to include it with the main set, but I thought I'd post it here so that they can still get some feedback and to add another festive story to people's reading list
Deck the Halls
The two men squared off to each other outside the calving shed.
‘Get out and stay out, you’re upsetting her.’ Fergus, the taller of the two men, pushed Marco in the chest. A lowing moan from the shed confirmed the cow’s thoughts on the matter.
‘Ah watch the suit.’ Marco protested, looking at Fergus’ grimy hands in horror. ‘This is one of my best.’ He watched carefully where he placed his shoes as he stepped away. ‘ Anyway I’ll stay out as soon as you tell me you’re on your way up to the house, you can’t not be there- the Revenue Inspectors will crucify you if you don’t appear at your own audit.’
‘Like I already said, I’ll be up as soon as she’s calved. For christ’s sake, Marco, I can’t exactly tell the cow to give me a time of birth estimate so I can tidy up your nice accountancy timetable for you.’ Fergus rolled his eyes in exasperation. ‘What colour is that suit, anyway, is that pink?’ He looked at the suit dubiously.
‘Pink?’ Marco said, horrified. ‘It’s claret.’
‘The ladies love it.’ He continued, more confident, stroking the arm of his suit in satisfaction. ‘Not that you’d know anything about what the ladies like. Maybe if you dressed a bit better you wouldn’t have to go to those lengths to try to find a woman.’ Marco pointed towards the signs put up at the top gate proclaiming in loud green paint ‘Deck the Halls’ with rather badly hand painted picture of holly around the lettering.
‘Oh ****’. He said, ‘I think that’s them.’ He watched the shiny black Passat pull up at the signs. ‘Looks like Joe is trying to sell them some holly.’
Near the closed gate, a man was ambling slowly from his wooden hut towards the car with boughs of holly in his arms. Marco and Fergus watched, amused, as he leaned in towards the car window.
‘Doubt if he’ll make a sale there.’ Marco commented. ‘The new Revenue Inspector is supposed to be a right bitch.’
They kept their eyes on Joe who seemed to be enjoying himself as he gesticulated to the occupant of the car. Shortly after though,he straightened suddenly, as if a wasp had stung him, and pointedly ushered the car towards the farmhouse, a short distance down the drive, practically running to open the gate. It was the fastest Fergus had ever seen Joe move in his life.
‘A right bitch.’ Marco repeated, and looked at Fergus, his eyebrows raised.’So you’d better get up to the house quick, or you’ll be facing a nasty tax bill.’
‘I’ve paid my tax bill, I don’t owe a penny.’Fergus retorted. ‘But I’ll be up shortly. The calfs legs are out, it won’t be long.’
Marco grimaced. ‘TMI, mate. Right, better greet the monster.’
Fergus watched as Marco set his shoulders and made towards the house, stopping to check under his shoes. Should he get a suit like that himself, he thought fleetingly, but dismissed the idea straightaway. What suited his metrosexual half italian accountant friend would not necessarily befit a burly 6 foot 2 farmer with scruffy red hair.
Outside the house, a leggy brunette was unfurling herself from the car, dressed carefully in a plain black trouser suit, and carrying a stuffed briefcase. At the other side of the car, an older man, with grey hair and an equally grey suit was looking back up at the gate and noting something in a jotter.
‘Marco O’Shea.’ Marco introduced himself, holding his hand out to the brunette. Up close he was beginning to think the rumours were wrong, this was a bit of a babe. Until she looked at him in the face with an expression of restrained distaste, that was.
‘Louise Brann and this is my colleague, John Kiely.’ She shook his hand firmly and, it might have been his imagination, but did her nose crinkle slightly?
He sniffed at his shoes again surreptitiously as he ushered them in before him to the back door. He seated them at the wide kitchen table where all business of the house was done and busied himself putting on the kettle while the two Inspectors brandished calculators and laptops from their bags.
‘Where is your client?’ Louise asked after a brief pause. She looked around the large farmhouse kitchen as though he might suddenly appear from behind one of the scuffed old pine dressers. The only arrival was that of Shep, the unimaginatively named sheepdog, who ambled slowly over from his normal sleeping spot in front of the stove to sniff at the visitors.
‘Bed, Shep.’ Marco tried without much hope waving towards the dog bed. Shep glanced at him briefly but clearly decided to ignore him. ‘Er, Fergus has a cow calving, he’ll be up in a minute.’ He continued nervously.
‘Right, well in that case, let’s begin with the accounts and we’ll move on when your client sees fit to appear.’ She looked at him sternly.
‘What about a cup of tea first?’ Marco offered, trying his best charming smile.
‘No. Thank you.’ Louise said firmly. Her colleague didn’t offer any response but merely started looking through sheafs of paper ringed in red.
Crap, thought Marco, glancing out of the window towards the calving shed, here we go.
Fergus changed out of his mucky coat and plastic trousers in the outside boilerhouse, slipped off his wellies in favour of his old brown loafers and took a deep breath before entering through the back door.
Inside, Marcos usual debonair appearance seemed to have deserted him. His black hair was standing on end. He was in his shirt sleeves and his hands were gesticulating wildly. His Italian roots always became clear in moments of stress, Fergus thought.
‘Ah Fergus, here you are.’ Marco almost cried with relief.
‘Sorry about being late,a cow was calving.’ Fergus made his apologies directly to the two inspectors. He offered his hand to Louise first. She stood to meet him, dislodging Shep who had decided he preferred Louise’s feet to his dog bed.
‘We understand, Mr. Collins, a cow calving cannot wait.’ Louise said, looking him up and down. Taller than her, she thought approvingly, not many like that. She took his hand firmly and noted the calloused palms, comparing them favourably with his accountants rather more manicured hands.
Flipping hell, Fergus thought, why can’t I meet a woman like that. He tried to eye her ring finger discreetly. Following his gaze, Louise smiled to herself and turned her hand showing the bare finger.
‘Now, Mr. Collins-‘
‘Fergus.’ Fergus looked at her with puppy eyes, while Marco rolled his simultaneously.
‘Right, er, Fergus, we have been able to get through most of our queries with Mr. O’Shea here-‘
‘Marco?’ Marco tried hopefully.
‘Mr. O’Shea.’ Louise repeated with a stern glance. ‘In fact most of our questions were relating to the way the accounts were presented, rather than the actual farming activity. Mr. O’Shea has a most creative side to his accountancy and we may be revisiting some other of his clients accounts shortly.’
Marco visibly shuddered in dread.
‘There is one point that we do need to clarify with you, however. You appear to have a further income stream that is undisclosed in your accounts.’
Fergus looked at her, baffled and looked to Marco to elucidate. Marco shrugged expressively.
‘The holly sales- at your gate.’ She pointed out, directing a cross look at Marco. ‘I even have some in my car now, that I can show you, that man at the gate gave it to me.’
‘He what? The bastard. I knew it, Marco.’ Fergus burst out.
‘Oh well, you see, Ms. Brann, it’s not what it seems.’ Marco began weakly. ‘My client, er, Fergus, has a little problem. He’s single and we, well he, came up with a plan to meet women. Involving putting up signs for holly at the roadside.’
‘To meet women.’ Louise repeated, disbelievingly. ‘How do you meet women from having someone sell holly at the roadside?’
‘Well that bastard Joe is supposed to call me to bring up the holly from the shed if it’s a good looking woman. Then I get a chance to chat them up.’ Fergus gestured towards Louise, ‘but obviously he’s trying to chat the good ones up himself. He already has a girlfriend.’ Fergus pointed out, bitterly.
Louise noted the gesture, delightedly and smiled up at Fergus through half closed eyes, which improved his mood tremendously.
‘I see, so ‘deck the halls with boughs of holly’. She half sung.
‘Falala, falala, fa-lal-la.’ It was the first thing the grey inspector had said all day.
‘Don we now our gay apparel.’ Louise flicked a hand towards Marco’s trousers. Marco looked down at his suit trousers in dismay.
Fergus dared a smile at Louise.
‘I wouldn’t mind that cup of tea now, us single girls have no-one make it for us at home.’ Louise said pointedly to Fergus.
A cup of tea to start, what about dinner later?’ Fergus asked, his cheeks turning red with his own daring.
‘That could be arranged.’ Louise smiled demurely.
‘Fa la la la la...’ Marco trailed off miserably.0
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