@ W&A web-site staff: Could you PLEASE expand your list of options for subject matter to include "stories for children"? And a few others...
The following, my 3rd "shared work" is very much a work-in-progress. One of my step-daughters has pointed out the need to flesh out Jacqueline's character and role in the proceedings, and either she or I (or both) will work on that. Further explanation. This is meant to be a picture book for ca. 8-12-year-olds. "[new page]" are indications to the illustrator (a 10-year-old friend of mine) how to space the illustrations.
Please indicate which ending structure you prefer (and why).
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It all started with a joke. Really.
And the funny thing is, the joke wasn’t aimed at anyone in particular. Anyone could have fallen into the trap. It was pure chance that it happened to be...
[new page] On Thursdays, lunch was right after Class 4’s P.E. period. This particular Thursday, 6 boys got to the lunchroom earlier than the rest of the class, who were still showering and changing.
Yaqub was the class clown. Taking advantage of the almost empty table, he unscrewed the top of one of the salt shakers, then started to screw it back, leaving it very loose.
The others snickered, but shushed each other and had resumed calm, serious faces by the time the next group of boys came in and sat down.
[new page] When Ya'aqov picked up the booby-trapped salt shaker (and remember that this was a school lunchroom salt shaker: a big thing), the first 6 boys stole looks at each other, waited, and...
[new page] burst into laughter when a huge pile of salt covered Ya'aqov’s mashed potatoes. Well, really, everybody who saw it happen laughed. And children at other tables were craning their necks to see what was going on.
Ya'aqov looked around. Yaqub was the class clown. AND the other 5 of the 1st group were all stealing looks at him. AND he was about the only one who kept a straight face. Well, it was obvious – wasn’t it? – who the guilty party was.
[new page] Ms. Stewart, one of the lunchroom workers, arrived at the centre of all the hubbub. She’d been working here for 18 years. And, believe me, she had seen this joke played HUNDREDS of times. She was rather bored with it, but the children gave it a big laugh every time.
“Go get yourself another plate of lunch,” she said to Ya'aqov.
[new page] Now, Ya'aqov didn’t have to pass Yaqub’s chair on the way to the serving counter, but he took the long way around.
“You’ll pay for this, Yaqub!” he hissed.
“But the lunches are free,” replied Yaqub. “You haven’t been paying for yours, have you, Ya'aqov?” And everybody laughed.
[new page] Who likes to be laughed at? Almost nobody – if you don’t count circus clowns. But there are some people who like it even less, some people who are REALLY bothered by being laughed at.
And Ya'aqov was one of those...
When they’d finished eating, the children took their empty dishes over to the kitchen hatchway. And while Yaqub was passing his chair, Ya'aqov stuck out his foot and...
Yaqub went sprawling, his cutlery skittered noisily across the floor, his plate and glass shattered. More laughter (of course).
[new page] Back came Ms. Stewart. “Can’t you kids be more careful?” she complained to Yaqub. “You aren’t hurt, are you? Let me see... No, you seem alright. Well, go get the dustpan and broom.”
And that’s how it all started. But it didn’t stop there. Oh, no!
[new page] When the bell for the end of the lunchtime playground break [end of lunch break] rang, and the children were lining up, ready to file back into their classrooms, Yaqub gave Ya'aqov a hard shove in the back.
“It was just bad luck that you picked up that salt shaker,” he said. “It could have been anyone. But you tripped me up on purpose.”
[new page] After school, Ya'aqov gave Yaqub an even harder shove in the back.
The other children – those who saw it – laughed. What were these 2 getting so upset about?
[new page] The next morning, somebody had poured water all over Ya'aqov’s desk. And after the lunch break, there was a drawing pin (pointy end up, of course) on Yaqub’s chair.
[new page] On Monday, at morning break, a spitball hit the back of Ya'aqov’s neck. Yyyuuukkk! And at lunchbreak, a rock flew [out of nowhere?] into Yaqub’s back.
After school, while he was passing the empty house on Lorrimer St. (his usual way home) a plastic shopping bag full of water fell on Ya'aqov’s head, drenching him from head to toe.
[new page] On Tuesday, the whole class had heard about the drenching. And some people were beginning to take sides. Some people thought that the shopping bag full of water was a BRILLIANT idea. Others thought that that was taking things too far.
Now, it just so happened that both Yaqub and Ya'aqov really liked Jacqueline. And both of them started showing off in front of her, boasting about what they were going to do to the other “to get even”, complaining about what the other had done to them. Because – of course – at any given point, each thought that the other was ahead in the nastiness [meanness] stakes.
But Jacqueline told BOTH of them that they were being silly. You don’t really need to be told (DO you?) that, when she said this, each one blamed the other one for starting it all. According to Yaqub, HE hadn’t attacked Ya'aqov: Ya'aqov had started it by tripping him up. And – of course – Ya'aqov said that if Yaqub hadn’t PLANNED to make a laughing stock out of him, none of the rest would have happened.
[new page] “I don’t care who started it,” Jacqueline would interrupt each of them. “It’s stopping it that’s important now.” (She was a sensible girl, and I can’t blame Yaqub or Ya'aqov for liking her.)
[new page] But it didn’t stop. Well, not just then...
As I’ve said, some people were beginning to take sides. Some – like Jacqueline – refused to take sides, claiming that both sides were in the wrong, that both Yaqub and Ya'aqov were being silly. And some couldn’t seem to make up their minds whether to take sides or stay out of it. Jake was one of these. Although he was more Ya'aqov’s friend than Yaqub’s, he agreed with Jacqueline that both should stop this nonsense. As Ya'aqov’s friend, he tried to talk to him, to make him see sense.
But Ya'aqov wasn’t having any of that. He reminded Jake of all the times that he had done Jake a favour. He said that if Jake didn't back him up he wasn't a real friend at all. AND he was a cowardly cowardly custard.
[new page?] On Wednesday morning, Ya'aqov had an ally: Jake held Yaqub’s arms behind his back while Ya'aqov punched him in the stomach.
On Wednesday after school, 2 of Yaqub’s friends held Ya'aqov down on the ground while Yaqub stepped on his hand – the one that he’d used earlier to punch Yaqub.
[new page] On Thursday, while Ms. James was writing out a homework assignment on the blackboard, and Ya'aqov was sharpening his pencil at the teacher’s desk, Yaqub watched him suspiciously... and one of Ya'aqov’s friends crept up from behind and... cut off his pony tail!
The whole class gasped, a detail lost on Ms. James (who was a little deaf).
[new page] BOY! Was Yaqub angry! But did he say anything to Ms. James? He did NOT. Instead, he hissed at Ya'aqov when the latter was returning to his seat:
“That’s done it, Ya'aqov! You’re in for it now...”
“Will the TWO of you stop this nonsense?!” hissed Jacqueline in her turn.
[new page] *************** [Here I'm considering 2 ways to structure the ending] ***************
Structure 1:
This story has 3 endings:
Ending #1
Of COURSE they didn’t stop this nonsense! Their pride was at stake! And, really, they were both enjoying themselves too much.
Until one weekend, Yaqub and a gang his friends, armed with broken branches, ambushed Ya'aqov in the woods and beat him up so badly that he ended up in hospital with a broken leg and 3 broken ribs, not to mention bruises all over his body.
[new page] Ending #2
Ya'aqov took Jacqueline’s words to heart and after school that same day, he approached Yaqub:
“Jacqueline’s right. We’re both being silly. Let’s stop this now. I’m really sorry about having your pony tail cut off: that was a mean trick. Here are the scissors. You can do whatever you like to my hair.”
[Actually, this 2nd ending has 2 variations: in one, Yaqub cuts a wide TRENCH through Ya'aqov’s bushy hair, and THEN then both laugh and shake hands. In the other, he starts to laugh and shakes Ya'aqov’s hand WITHOUT taking revenge. He was getting tired of all this stupid fighting anyway...]
[new page] Ending #3
It was Yaqub who took Jacqueline’s good advice and it was he who approached Ya'aqov:
“Look, Ya'aqov, Jacqueline’s right: we’re both being silly. My hair will grow back. Let’s stop this now before somebody really gets hurt...”
“What, you CHICKEN?! Remember you started this. You’re right: your hair will grow back. But you still haven’t paid enough for making everybody laugh at me like that. And I know that you’re just offering to stop because you’re scared of what I’ll do next.”
[new page] Although Yaqub did his best to keep out of Ya'aqov’s way, Ya'aqov was always looking for ways to “even the score”. It maddened him especially to see how Jacqueline was becoming friendlier to Yaqub... while giving himself those maddeningly sad, PITYING looks.
And – in this ending – it was Ya'aqov’s gang who ambushed Yaqub in the woods. And it was Yaqub who ended up in the hospital... with a lot more serious injuries than just a broken arm and 3 broken ribs.
*************** [That's the 1st structure. Here comes the 2nd:] ***************
Of COURSE they didn’t stop this nonsense! Their pride was at stake! And, really, they were both enjoying themselves too much.
Until one weekend, Yaqub and a gang his friends, armed with broken branches, ambushed Ya'aqov in the woods and beat him up so badly that he ended up in hospital with a broken leg and 3 broken ribs, not to mention bruises all over his body.
[new page] NO, NO, NO! That's not the way things went.
No, Ya'aqov took Jacqueline’s words to heart and after school that same day, he approached Yaqub:
“Jacqueline’s right. We’re both being silly. Let’s stop this now. I’m really sorry about having your pony tail cut off: that was a mean trick. Here are the scissors. You can do whatever you like to my hair.”
So Yaqub cut a wide TRENCH through Ya'aqov’s bushy hair, and then both laughed and shook hands.
[new page] No, wait a minute, it wasn't like that, either. Let's back up a little:
OK, Ya'aqov DID offer to let Yaqub do whatever he wanted to his hair, handed him the scissors... but Yaqub just started to laugh and shook Ya'aqov’s hand WITHOUT taking revenge. He was getting tired of all this stupid fighting anyway...]
[new page] Sorry! That still isn't right. Let's see...
It was Yaqub who took Jacqueline’s good advice and it was he who approached Ya'aqov:
“Look, Ya'aqov, Jacqueline’s right: we’re both being silly. My hair will grow back. Let’s stop this now before somebody really gets hurt...”
“What, you CHICKEN?! Remember you started this. You’re right: your hair will grow back. But you still haven’t paid enough for making everybody laugh at me like that. And I know that you’re just offering to stop because you’re scared of what I’ll do next.”
[new page] Although Yaqub did his best to keep out of Ya'aqov’s way, Ya'aqov was always looking for ways to “even the score”. It maddened him especially to see how Jacqueline was becoming friendlier to Yaqub... while giving himself those maddeningly sad, PITYING looks.
It was Ya'aqov’s gang who ambushed Yaqub in the woods. And it was Yaqub who ended up in the hospital... with a lot more serious injuries than just a broken arm and 3 broken ribs.
Hi, Lu!
If you'll notice, in one ending it's Yaqub who's hospitalised: in another it's Ya'aqov. I'm TRYING to keep it as balanced as possible, but I also want to give my young readers the message that really ANYTHING can happen. Either side can be the big loser in this kind of nonsense, and the only way for ALL to win is for BOTH to agree to back down.
Thanks for the comment (and I'm really glad that you liked the 2nd one). Will update when I have a bit more time.
J
Hi Jimmy
Have just read your shared work, A children's story of escalating violence.
I like the story but I am not sure about any of the endings.
Rather than having one of the boys being beaten up and hospitalized I would prefer it if one of the acts of revenge just went too far and the perpetrator of the act is left shocked and remorseful, suddenly coming to his senses and realizing their feud had grown way out of proportion.
If one of the boys was to be hospitalised I think it should be Yaqub as he is just the class clown whereas Ya'aqov seems to have more issues and is shown to overreact to a minor prank in the first place.
I also don't think that the sentence
The others snickered, but shushed each other and had resumed calm, serious faces by the time the next group of boys came in and sat down..
really reads well.
Did the boys all have calm serious faces in the first place?
Do boys generally sit around looking calm?
This would have made me immediately suspicious!
Have also read your story PEARLS BEFORE SWINE, which is lovely.
Definitely worthy of publication with some illustrations
Really enjoyed it..
My 1st "shared work" was http://jimmsfairytales.com/olivia.htm
My 2nd:
Introduction: In 1986, I was house- and animal-sitting for a family who went on a long-wished-for round of visits. I was 12km from the nearest village (most of it up a mountain logging road, the last 2km inaccessible by car... not that I drive, anyway), and 5km (in another direction) from the nearest neighbours.
With 3 nannies (2 of them giving me milk, morning and evening) and 2 kids, a dog and ONE (count 'em) chicken (lovely thing: the only survivor of a long campaign of slaughter by some wild animal, she would come and sit on the kitchen window each evening and - if I didn't react for several minutes - would peck on the glass to remind me that she wanted to be put into her fox-proof, lidded basket [INDOORS] for the night... NOW!!!) to look after, overnight trips were out of the question.
I had taken on this situation as a mutually advantageous swap: They were desperate for a break, I wanted a place to stay to get on with my writing. But I got writers' block, not producing a single sentence... except for long letters to my girlfriend, over 1000km away. Once, in a letter to her, I joked that - since I had no writers' block when it came to writing to her - perhaps I should write a story as a letter / in a letter to her. And I - jokingly - started. The following story just flowed out without a hitch. I KNOW that it's flawed, but - because of the circumstanses of its birth - I have sworn not to change a single word.
So I don't want you to suggest any changes. I just want to know whether you think that it's worthy of publishing as is... with illustrations, of course. End of Introduction (and ABOUT time!)
p.s.Sorry, but I should mention that since this website doesn't cater for italics, boldface, or underlinings, all these indications of emphasis have disappeared. I could capitalise the emphasised words, but I've got a clown show in a few hours and my fellow clowns still have no idea of the numbers that they are to be involved in. Wish us luck!
PEARLS BEFORE SWINE
Jimmy Hollis i Dickson
©1986
for Martina
There was once a widow, who had three daughters. Now the two elder daughters were intelligent, beautiful, and artistic, one being a painter and the other a violinist. But some people thought the youngest daughter ugly, because she was cross-eyed, and she also had the reputation of being crazy. In the mornings and late afternoons, she’d work in the family's vegetable patch. During the hot part of' the day, she'd work indoors, go for walks in the woods, or sit in the middle of the vegetable patch without moving for ever such a long time.
"What's so crazy about that?" you may well ask. Well, she’d talk to the vegetables, and then seem to be listening, as if they were answering her. And every evening, after working with the vegetables, she’d go and sit in a mud puddle in front of the house. She caused her two sisters a great deal of embarrassment, and her mother no end of worry, but she was as happy as the day is long, and as healthy as the night is wide.
"Oh, Mother, can't you do anything about her?" wailed her sisters “None of Our friends will come to visit us with her sitting there like that."
And the mother would go out once again and try to convince her youngest daughter to come into the house and clean herself up. But the young woman would only shake her head and say: "I want to stay here." Only when the last hints of the sunset had filtered out of the sky would she stand up and make her way slowly and silently to the back of the house, where she’d wash herself at the rain-water barrel. Then she’d put on a clean dress, collect a few vegetables for the evening meal, and enter the house.
And as the four women sat eating in the kitchen, she’d say strange things that nearly drove her sisters mad, such as "The world is a huge seed waiting to grow into a pepper plant." Or "Today I saw that my body is bigger than the whole world, and smaller than a drop of water." And her sisters would grit their teeth, or roll their eyes, and say nothing, but finish their supper and leave the table as soon as possible. And her mother would sigh and shake her head.
Twice a month, the elder sisters were spared listening to these observations. Each night of full moon or new moon, their sister would remain sitting in her puddle for the whole night, hardly moving. On nights of full moon, her eyes would follow the moon as it rode from one side of the sky to the other, while on nights of new moon, her eyes would remain shut, but her head would rock slowly, very slowly, from side to side.
Then hard times came to the land where they lived. The rain stopped falling, the ponds and streams dried up. The crops did badly, especially since swarms of insects came and ate up many of the crops before they could be harvested. Now although one of the sisters was a painter, and so didn't depend directly on the crops, the lord and lady for whom she painted depended on taxes from the farmers, and these depended on the crops. So they told her that they couldn't afford to pay her to paint their portraits. And although another of the sisters was a violinist, and so didn't depend directly on the crops, she played in the town band, which played for dances and parties. And as the Crops were doing so badly, the people weren't in the mood for dancing or parties, and also didn't have the money to pay the musicians. The youngest sister's mud puddle had dried up, and now in the evening she sat in the dust, but she still was happy and healthy. She ate less, because there was less to eat, but she said as many crazy things as before, because there was always enough to say.
"All times are hard," she said during the evening meal one day, and her eldest sister pounded the table and shouted "Oh, shut up!"
"We have to DO something!" she continued, after a pause in which her mother and one sister stared at her. The youngest sister hadn't turned her head. "Unless we do something, we’ll starve... I've decided to go to the king's palace to see if there's any possibility there."
So, after a day or two to get her things ready, the eldest sister set out for the king's palace. It took her two weeks to get there, and all along the way ordinary people spared her something to eat and a place to sleep for the night, even though they didn't have that much for themselves. Well, the people of that country are like that. And the closer she got to the palace, the greener everything looked. This part of the country, at least, had continued to have rain.
But when she got to the palace gates, one of the palace officials turned her away. "Who ever heard of a woman violinist" he snorted. "Besides, the king already has an orchestra with a hundred musicians, and twenty of them are violinists. No, we don't need any violinists, thank you very much."
So the eldest sister sadly made her way back home, and told her family what had happened. Then the second sister decided to go to the palace to try her luck. "I'll offer to paint the king's portrait for free," she said. "He’ll be sure to give me a place to stay in the palace and food as well for the time I'm working on the portrait. And if he likes it - as of course he will - maybe he'll pay me to paint another."
So, after a day or two to get her things ready, the second sister set out for the king's palace. It took her two and a half weeks to get there, and all along the way, ordinary people spared her something to eat and a place to sleep for the night, even though they didn't have that much for themselves. Well, the people of that country are like that. And the closer she got to the palace, the greener everything looked. And it even rained once or twice while she was on her way.
But when she got to the palace, one of the officials scoffed at her. "A woman painter? Well I never.' But there are already four artists working on portraits of His Majesty, and he's getting quite bored of all the posing he has to do. He may be vain, but he's also got other things to do. Be off with you!"
So the second sister sadly made her way back home and told the others what had happened.
"Well that's it!" moaned the eldest sister. "We're just going to starve."
"I'll go," said the youngest sister quietly.
"You?" exclaimed her two sisters. "What good could you possibly do? What are you planning to do, sit in a mud puddle outside the royal palace?"
"Maybe," answered the youngest sister. Quietly she went to get her things ready, which took her about two hours. She packed some fruit and nuts still left from the last year, then went to see her sister, the painter. "Can you lend me a dress?" she asked. "You know I've got nothing to wear suitable for the king's palace."
"Well, at least you're showing some sense there," answered her sister. "...here, this is a dress Lady Daphne gave me. It's not my colour at all. You can have it."
"No, no. Please don't give it to me - just lend it to Me.
"Alright. I lend it to you." And she shook her head, "Silly thing!"
Then the youngest daughter packed the dress away in her bag, and set off to the palace. Along the way she slept in woods and meadows. The people she met along the way offered to share some of their food with her. She thanked them, but explained that she already had food with her. "But could you spare me a drink of water?"
It took her a week and a half to reach the palace, and when she saw it ahead of her, not too far off, she changed into her sister's dress and continued. When she got there, she did in fact see a mud puddle in front of the palace gates, so she sat down in it. Of course she drew strange looks from passers-by, and people began to talk. Soon, quite a crowd had gathered to stare at her. What was this young woman doing sitting in a mud puddle? Was she crazy?
The crowd soon captured the attention of the king, who at that moment was posing for yet another portrait, and feeling very bored. So, wanting a break, and also a bit curious, he sauntered outside to see what was going on.
As the king approached the mud puddle, the whispering in the crowd grew more excited, but had died down completely by the time he actually arrived. Some of the people were even holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen. The woman in the mud puddle appeared not to have noticed His coming.
"Do you know?" she said at last, to the crowd in general, "I'm a very rich woman. Why, I could show you a pearl that weighs as much as..." and she paused as she looked around the crowd, then pointed to a young man, and continued, "as much as that man there." The crowd gasped. "But I'm also very generous. I'll bet anybody here that I could give you more than you'd be willing to give me... Let's set this bet at two wagonloads of corn, one wagonload of fresh fruit, and one wagonload of fresh vegetables - to be delivered immediately to my home if I win the bet, and to your home if you win."
Some of the crowd gasped again, but most muttered and shook their heads. "She must be crazy," said some to their neighbours. "Who could afford to lose that bet? And if she's got a pearl as big as she says, who could possibly win?" And the young man who she'd pointed at found himself being looked at again and again by everybody in the crowd.
But the king smiled to himself. After standing for so long in one position for the portrait, he was in the mood for a little game. But he was also shrewd, and he thought to himself, "Well, how can I lose? She might be crazy, but then there are a lot of rich crazy people... If she offers me a lot, for example that huge pearl, I'll admit that she's won the bet, that I'm not willing to give her that much. Then I'll have to pay her the wagonloads of food, but I'll have the fantastic pearl (or whatever else she offers). And that'll be worth more than the food.
"And if what she offers isn't worth that much, well then I'll offer her the same, with just a tiny little bit more. And with this extra little bit, I'll win the bet and all those wagonloads of food. How can I lose?... Only if she's lying and can't pay. And then I'll make her pay in another way.
"I accept the bet," said the king out loud, and half the crowd was ready to go crazy. This was fantastic! "But I'll tell you that I am the king, and I don't like lying. If anything you have said is untrue, I'll have you thrown in -the dungeon for the rest of your life. Now, what is it that you offer me?"
"I offer you everything that I own in the world," said the woman in the mud puddle. Now, will you offer me that?"
The king laughed, and said good-naturedly, "Well, 'I admit defeat: the wagonloads of food are yours... But now you must give me everything that you own in the world."
"It's all in this bag, your Majesty," she said to him, holding out her bag. "You can't have the dress I'm wearing as it isn't mine. I borrowed it from my sister."
The king smirked. "And the pearl as heavy as this young man? Remember that if you've lied about that, you spend the rest of your life in the palace dungeon."
The young cross-eyed woman stood up and indicated herself with her hands. "Here is the Pearl as heavy as him," she said. "My name is Pearl, and I think you'll find that I weigh as much as him, if not more."
The king burst out laughing. And when he finished, he said, "I won't bother weighing you. You’ve given me a right royal laugh on a boring day, and that's worth the bet we agreed."
So Pearl returned to her home, sharing out food to the people she met on the way, as well as the people in her village.
Well, the people of that country are like that.