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Writing Challenge: Win a bottle of Benevolent Badger Blue! Details inside.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. As the title says, I want to challenge the denizens of The Nib to do some writing. I enjoy writing--be it jotting my thoughts down in a journal or writing short pieces influenced by what I'm reading or how I'm feeling at the time. For me, writing is a way to relax and clear my mind. I want all of you to get involved as well. Maybe some of you already write on a regular basis and maybe some of you hardly write at all. For this challenge, I want you all to write a "short" piece of anything! Fiction or nonfiction in any style or genre, just write something! I put the word "short" in quotes because, for the purpose of this challenge, "short" will be a relative term; there is no cutoff or required word count. The catch is that you must write it out on paper before typing it up and posting it here. Redundant, yes, but variety redundancy is the spice of life. I ask that you include what pen, ink and paper you used to craft your piece of writing. Only one entry per person as well please. If you want, you can also include what inspired or influenced you in your writing. I regret to add that I must limit the winner to CONUS addresses as I'm a college kid hoping to keep costs low. Sorry 'bout that. This challenge is open to ALL members, Mods, Stews, penguins, and Bigfoots.

Here's where things get a bit fuzzy: I really don't have a set cutoff date for the challenge. I'm planning on keeping it open as long as people are consistently posting their entries. I don't really have a way of determining the winner either. I'll be sure to let you all know as soon as I work that out. The prize for the winner (however he or she is determined) will be a new bottle of Noodler's/Badger & Blade Benevolent Badger Blue fountain pen ink. Why Benevolent Badger Blue? Because it's a great ink that supports a great cause and because, to put it frankly, I'm fully behind anything that requires me to make an order from WCS. I'll post a piece of mine shortly to help break the ice and get the ball rolling. Now let's get started!
 

oc_in_fw

Fridays are Fishtastic!
Good suggestion! That way we can see the inks/papers that people are using.

If any of you don't have scanners or don't have the time/ability to scan it, no worries!

I better start thinking of something good, because if it is judged on handwriting I am gonna be tossed out on my ear :001_smile Seriously, this is a great PIF and I am looking forward to reading the entries. (No one tell topgumby, he can out write anybody :biggrin:)
 
I'm right there with you. I used to hate writing, but now that I have great FP's and nice ink, I love it, but damn do I still have atrocious lefty handwriting (is there any other kind for lefties?)

I better start thinking of something good, because if it is judged on handwriting I am gonna be tossed out on my ear :001_smile Seriously, this is a great PIF and I am looking forward to reading the entries. (No one tell topgumby, he can out write anybody :biggrin:)
 
UPDATE: I'm out of town until tomorrow so I'll be a bit late to post my piece of writing. I'd also like to change something in my first post--this contest is now open to international members!
 
I haven;t got a fountain pen.. yet.. something I intend to change shortly. I'll need ink...

Having said that does it need to be written in fountain pen or will biro do ?
 
Sorry for the delay, everyone. I've been traveling for a few days and have been away from B&B!

I haven;t got a fountain pen.. yet.. something I intend to change shortly. I'll need ink...

Having said that does it need to be written in fountain pen or will biro do ?

Any writing utensil will do! You can even chisel it into a stone block or carve it into a tree. :001_tt2:
 
Sorry for the delay, everyone. I've been traveling for a few days and have been away from B&B!



Any writing utensil will do! You can even chisel it into a stone block or carve it into a tree. :001_tt2:


Those schoolkids in ancient rome must have been pretty strong, carry all those marble blocks with them to take notes.
 
Not an entry. Just a gentle reminder of the importance of good punctuation...

and a bit of fun.
Written with my pc and keyboard (I appreciate the intent behind the challenge, so that is why this is not an entry.)

An Apostrophic Event.

Sir we’re having an apostrophic event!
A what??
An apostrophic event, sir, apostrophe’s are being misused. See sir, it just happened there.
All right, we’ll investigate! Come along, Mr. Spelchk. Webster, beam us down.
Watch your step, sir, there’s a minefield of commas out there, it looks like they were just tossed out by the handful.
How do we get across this then?
Well, the periods and question marks appear to be in the proper places I suggest we follow those.. sir.
Wait…. there are, four periods right here, why so many?
Perhaps decoys, sir???
And there are 3, question marks ,over there!
Probably just to confuse us, sir!
What a questionable, practice!! !
No sir just, overly dramatic!
Oops, we had best get moving the area, is beginning to, affect our ability to, communicate effectively, sir.
It is quite, affective, isn’t it Mr; Spelchk?!
Sir!! You gave me a semi-colon!
Well’ you’re, not a full, colon then, are you?
Sir??
Yes we,had better, move before we are asterisk our ampersands.
I agree sir we, don’t want to lose those --#/@*%&
Mister Spelchk , you’re language!!?
Sorry, sir I dashed, my toe into a numbersign.
Then “wrap it up” in some ,quotes and keep it clean!
Look ,around! What a mess,you would, think their parentheses would, have taught them better!
Yes sir but, the italics’ are a different, breed, you know,” always going off on, a tilt to stand out from the crowd.
I’m not font, of the” italics for that, very reason, Mr’ Spelchk and they can be very bold in their attempts to stress a point.
I think, we’ve, seen enough,…. Webster! Scroll us up!
I can’t sir; my screen shows you and Mr. Spelchk as red, green and blue squiggles. It appears you’ve been infected sir, we can’t read you.
Infected??! With what???/
Punctuated, sir!
How did, that’ happen, we, didn’t eat any thing!
We could run you past an editor sir, but you would risk losing your dangling participles.
Is there, any other, way?/?
There is a new radical procedure, sir, a transfusion!
Would, we have to be cross’+matched for –that?/?
No sir, we have typos for the transfusion, typos are universal.
Can’ you send ,them down?)
Yes sir, we have a boatload of typos!
Whe’re did we, get all those +typo’s?!
Fat fingers, sir!
All -right’ send them down. Mr” Spelchk’ bring those typo’s here!.\
Of coyrse, sit.
What did you say’?^
Tes air!
Webster!! the typo transfusion has’ made mr] Spelchk} ,totally- unintelligible\?/
Yes , but it has greatly increased readability aboard ship sir! We are glad to be rid of them.
You mean…this is mutiny?!”?!$#\
Yes sir, it had to be done. You never properly applied the rules of punctuation. You and Mr. Spelchk let so many errors go by that communication was becoming impossible.
Wegstre!! Don’stwand us hfere!)\[[
Captain Webster’s log: Star date 020102011
Leaving behind the punctuation errors and typos that so plagued our society, we have made it safe for clear concise communication of thoughts and ideas across the galaxy once again. TNLNSL TFTC ROFLMAO CUL8R
 
The grammar police have a sense of humor!!!! In regards to the challenge, I'm frozen. I cant decide what paper, pen and ink to use for the one and only shot! I agonize over what the best combo is. But i suppose that is part of the fun, less than a year ago I would've said notebook paper and a Bic. What is the fun in that?
 
And for any of you who might be afraid that your entry is too silly, here is mine. It was inspired by a trip to Red Lobster.

EDIT: I wrote it in a cheap Staples notebook using my B&B/Edison Glenmont filled with 5 O'Clock Shadow!


The Sunday lunch rush was always busy. He hadn't experienced it firsthand, though--it was his first day on the job. Almost everybody was new. He looked around at all of the families waiting to be seated and couldn't help but feel both lonely and homesick. The Midwest set him on edge. Things were certainly different on the East Coast. He concluded that the nice weather was what drew the large crowd and then quickly changed his mind to decide that lobsters didn't need to worry about things like that. The most pressing issue was figuring out why there were rubber bands on his claws and how to get rid of them. He wasn't sure how he knew what a rubber band was but again decided that he didn't need to worry about such things. It was going to be a bad day.
 
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Lol, nice! Damn sentient lobsters...

And for any of you who might be afraid that your entry is too silly, here is mine. It was inspired by a trip to Red Lobster.

EDIT: I wrote it in a cheap Staples notebook using my B&B/Edison Glenmont filled with 5 O'Clock Shadow!


The Sunday lunch rush was always busy. He hadn't experienced it firsthand, though--it was his first day on the job. Almost everybody was new. He looked around at all of the families waiting to be seated and couldn't help but feel both lonely and homesick. The Midwest set him on edge. Things were certainly different on the East Coast. He concluded that the nice weather was what drew the large crowd and then quickly changed his mind to decide that lobsters didn't need to worry about things like that. The most pressing issue was figuring out why there were rubber bands on his claws and how to get rid of them. He wasn't sure how he knew what a rubber band was but again decided that he didn't need to worry about such things. It was going to be a bad day.
 
OK my entry and yes, I did write this out in advance, in biro !


Oh and it's unfinished too.....


The Tale of Richard Statham-MacGregor.


The black Porsche 911 Coupe pulled slowly into the driveway in a way that only a Porsche can – at 180 km/hr. The electric garage door began to automatically open and had moved four feet when the Porsche slammed through it. The vehicle continued through the back wall and ended it's journey in the neighbours prize rose garden.
As the dust cleared, Richard climbed from the drivers' seat. “Well,” he thought to himself, “I'd actually wanted the Cabriolet and this way I save about thirty grand”.
He walked around the vehicle , kicking each of the wheels, some of which still rotated at a mind-numbing rate. Seemingly satisfied, he went into the house through the back door – which was quite novel as he;d never had a back door before.


At this juncture it might be appropriate to take a short break from our narrative to formally introduce this character. Richard Statham-MacGregor was not the sort of man to be phased easily. Any normal man might have gone into fits of apoplecty at having trashed a new Porsche, but not Richard.(Ricky to his friends, Dick only to his mortal enemies). He took it all rather philosophically, in this case as in all such occurrences, inventing an excuse which even if absolutely untrue made him feel so much better about things. He'd never wanted the cabriolet at all.


Richard Statham-MacGregor was the direct descendant of George Statham, one of the first men in Britain to have appeared at a golf club luncheon dressed in blue denim jeans. This was a tradition in his family (or at least the poorer Statham part) which he carried on admirably. The MacGregor part of his name was actually from a remote relation on his mother's side of the family. Richard has changed his name from Statham to Statham-MacGregor for tax purposes - the avoidance thereof.
In fact many of Ricky's friends were also heavily motivated in the area of tax avoidance. Never, mind you, tax evasion. Lord forbid. Merely complete avoidance.


Ricky was a bachelor, and a confirmed one. To go along with this image he needed a beautiful girl in residence at each of his home and overseas residences – and he had quite a few. He was also a fanatical car collector, with a collection spread among his residences of some 70 vehicles, some worth millions of dollars. This was exactly the sort of conspicuous consumption best avoided if trying to stay off the tax office radar. Their concern (in Britain at least) was that he had in Britain some 20 cars which he drove quite a lot. The tax office had once asked how, given his very modest declared income, he could afford the petrol for those cars. Richard was able to point to his close friendship with the Saudi Royal Family, an excuse they accepted. The same tactic had previously failed when he applied for diplomatic plates to avoid speeding fines. For some reason the tax office never though to ask how he could afford the cars in the first place, though a lack of intelligence on their part was probably at the root of it.


Well, enough of who Ricky is, and back to our regular scheduled programming.


The first important thing that Ricky did once he had entered the house was to check his wall safe. This was not the result of a paranoid fear of theft, but merely to ascertain whether he had enough cash to replace the $300,000 car he'd just wrecked. He found that if he combined the money in his rather thick wallet with that in the wall safe he had, almost exactly in fact, nowhere near enough. Liquid assets (other than petrol and oil) were, he found, rather hard to come by. He decided to comfort himself the time honoured way of gentleman (well if it was good enough for them, why not him?) and opened a bottle of fine single malt Scotch whisky. Slowly sipping the drink he considered his options. He had one. Or really, none.
Placing the glass on the bar he reached for the telephone. The voice that answered his call was certainly not given to spontaneous friendliness.
“Hello”
“Hi, It's SM here” replied Ricky.
“Yes”
“I need a job. Rather short on liquids at the moment old boy”
“Usual place. Tomorrow. Midday”.


The line went dead. It was not one of the most intellectual conversations he'd had lately. Ricky knew the man he was to meet well, even considered him a personal friend. The man who had spoken on the phone was one of his friend's minders. George Hanifay-Smythe needed minders, it was how he avoided being arrested by the police, killed by competitors, or killed by the people with whom he'd had “unsatisfactory” business relationships. And his was a most serious business indeed.
Most people wouldn't call trawl-fishing a “most serious business”, however when the operation exists merely as a front for a major international smuggling ring it suddenly becomes more... interesting. (Let's face it. At a dinner party we'd all rather talk about smuggling than dead fish, surely.) So Richard would meet George at the usual place – a location which changed frequently. At mid-day which meant 2pm, tomorrow, which meant tomorrow. That left him with nothing to do for 18 hours. Well, nothing important from a business point of view anyway.

Sandra, his resident girlfriend, was due home shortly. In his mind he imagined a night of.. well, sleep wasn't involved. He would, however, have a terrible time explaining the new back door to her. He hatched the perfect plan though – he'd ambush her Mercedes Roadster at the front gate of the property and tell her he'd had some remodelling done. Break it to her that way....
 
My entry is a little bit of freestyle verse, written this morning (the first day of Spring) in a 9 1/2" x 6" Staples "Sustainable Earth notebook, using a Benton Clay "Big Green Fountain Pen" (medium nib) and Noodler's Kiowa Pecan ink.

----------

Thoughts of Springtime

Leaves budding.
Early flowers poking up from the cold dirt.
Reaching to greet the warming sun.
Bird songs ringing through the woodlands
And across the fields.
Staking out their territories
Announcing their awesomeness to potential mates.
March winds blowing puffy clouds
Across the blue sky.

Renewal is here.

This precious, fleeting moment will soon give way
To summer's heat and thunderstorms.
Which then is followed by autumn and winter.
But the cycle repeats, infinitely.
And we are along for the ride...
The highs, the lows, the predictable, the unknown.

I wouldn't trade it for anything.
 
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