Final NWW Children's Competition Winners 2018 (Primary)

NORTH WEST WORDS YOUNG WRITERS COMPETITONS 2018 WINNERS
North West Words Young Writer of the Year Competition 2018
Primary School Winning Poems and Short Stories
Painting: Harriet
Lorraine Carey

NORTH WEST WORDS
YOUNG WRITERS COMPETITONS 2018 WINNERS
Winners of the North West Words Young Writers Poetry and Fiction Competitions sponsored by Eason with judge,
Deirdre Hines and Councillor Gerry McMonagle
Judge, Deirdre Hines with Tara McDermott, North West Words Young Writer of the Year, 2018
Also a thanks to Lorraine Carey for her paintings. They are used as the front cover and dividers
between the various categories.
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NORTH WEST WORDS
YOUNG WRITERS COMPETITONS 2018 WINNERS
Competition Results 2018
Primary School Fiction
1st Place
Octavia's Wish by Tara McDermott
2nd Place Diary of an Orca by Lucian Brown
3rd Place The House of the Goose's Nest by Cornelia Brown
Judge's Notes
The studies of adult creative writers have shown that they were early and passionate readers,
encountering the written word with intense enjoyment, often using reading as an escape from the
world. A prodigy is generally understood as being a child under ten who produces work that is similar
to that of adult professionals. All of this year's winning entries display prodigy.
In third place the writer of 'The House of the Goose's Nest' belies an uncanny wisdom and facility with
sentence and description in a story that is a trip down memory lane for the writer's parents. The sense
this writer evokes of time and place and relationship is quite simply masterful.
In second place the writer of 'Diary of an Orca' achieves what the bardic schools of old always advised
writers to practise; to imagine yourself as other, whether that be a stone, a tree or another person. In
this case, an Orca. The rich imagery this writer uses as the orca travels the oceans displays a knowledge
of marine life. All stories bring their readers on a journey. I particularly enjoyed this author's
re-invention of the tropes of ghost-ships and marine biologists. A triumph of the imagination.
In first place the writer of 'Octavia's Wish' does not put a foot wrong. This is seamless writing. Each
sentence moves the story forward. And what sentences. There is rhythm, visual imagery, and melodic
combinations that work on the ear with the sonorous authority of a tune you want to listen to again
and again. The natural ear for language that prodigies display is not often married with a gift for plot
that includes sophisticated use of syntax, and the parentheses in this story add to the complexity of
the writing. A triumph of voice, style, plot and language meld together in a story that reinvents the
time worn and jaded conceit of change in seasons. The central character will remain with you long
after you have read or heard this story. A writer the world will remember.
The standard of entries in this category was astounding. My longlist counted 16 stories. If there was
any consistent flaw in some of these stories it was from the incorrect use of tenses. I would like to give
special mention to 'My Sister is an Alien' for its excellent plot and 'The Escape' for the funniest line in
the whole competition - 'They lived in a huge mansion and disguised themselves as posh people'.
Finally 'Goldilocks and the Three Reading Bears' crossed genres. A hybrid of fiction and verse in a
beautifully presented chapbook. Keep writing.
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NORTH WEST WORDS
YOUNG WRITERS COMPETITONS 2018 WINNERS
Primary School Poetry
1st Place
Quiz Night by Sean McGettrick
2nd Place The Defeat of the Sewing Machine by Maria Foy
3rd Place
My family by Rebecca Gallagher
Judge's Notes
'My family poem' has one of the best similes in the whole competition -'every one of us is like a
different colour'. It is used as a refrain throughout a poem which celebrates the poet's family.
I loved the way this poet's ear knew when to repeat a word in order to hold the rhythm of the line.
A poet's willingness to play with words is rare. This writer too displays a natural ear for language in
the use of unusual adjectives and the feeling of movement in the poem is carried from the
beginning to the end. A particularly difficult theme to pull off, but this poet carries it above the
general norm.
I look forward to reading more from this poet.
'The Defeat of the Sewing Machine' is a fantastical ballad. This poet has a wonderfully vivid
imagination, and I particularly loved how she resolved the plot. The difficulty with a rhyming ballad
lies in the rhymes not being forced. She carries this off in the main every time. I will never look at a
sewing machine in the same light again. The length of this poem impressed as did the
characterisation. A poet to watch.
First place goes to 'Quiz Night'. This poem takes the shape of nine four lined verses with a rhyme
scheme of aabb. What is masterful here is that each rhyme seems completely natural and in
keeping with the meaning the poet is trying to convey. The poet doesn't restrict the lines to the
same metric count but varies it, allowing for a more natural register. There is also a great wealth of
learning displayed with references to Steinbeck, the use of difficult words like ' octogenarian' and
Greek and Roman gods. There is even the German for goodbye - Auf Wiedersehen in the last line
allowing the poet an ironic moment. Wonderful. I look forward to reading more of this poet's work.
There were some beautiful poems entered in this category that looked at issues such as
homelessness, averted suicide, and love. There were other poems too that celebrated a squirrel's
tale, a magic book, school, Halloween and kittens. They were all very good indeed. If I had any
advice it would be to play with your lines so that the shape of the poem is of your own crafting.
Make your own forms. Invent new words. Devise your own philosophies. Have fun. Keep writing.
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NORTH WEST WORDS
YOUNG WRITERS COMPETITONS 2018 WINNERS
WINNER OF YOUNG WRITER OF THE
YEAR
TARA McDERMOTT
with
OCTAVIA'S WISH
PRIMARY SCHOOL FICTION SECTION
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PRIMARY FICTION
Octavia’s Wish
Once upon a time, a quite normal girl, just like you and me, called Octavia lived upon a small hill in
the woods. She lived in a small house, with her small family, on a small street, quite near to a small
town. Every day, she would feed the ducks, sing for the birds and race squirrels up trees, even
though they always beat her. She liked every day of her life, even the days when the birds wouldn’t
sing, the ducks weren’t hungry and the squirrels started a tough game of hide and seek. There was
one thing that Octavia truly detested. It was the season of winter.
Octavia was born in spring. When lambs were born, flowers blooming and everyone playing
outside from dawn till dusk. To her, spring was the most wonderful time of the year. As she grew
up, Octavia realised that many people preferred winter to spring. She didn’t see the reason why
people thought winter was better. Winter was always so cold and frosty.
Sometimes she would hear people talking about snow. Octavia had never seen snow. She
simply thought it was icicles falling from the sky. She heard about snow many a time, saw pictures
and even checked the freezer to see if she could find some. Anyway, she didn’t care. She didn’t
want to see snow. But then a little bit, just a little bit, she really did.
Winters came and winters passed. No snow, no snow, no snow. Every time she pulled a wish
bone from a chicken she wished for snow, she’d wish for snow, every time a rainbow appeared,
she’d wish for snow. Every single time she wished, snow never came. She never told anyone what
she was wishing for. They’d all just laugh at her, and anyway if she told anyone her wish it might
not come true!
One day during the glorious days of spring, it was Octavia’s birthday. Her guests were not
arriving until quarter to two. She decided to feed the ducks some of her mouth-watering birthday
cake, sing a jolly tune of ‘Happy Birthday’ with the deafening birds (they must have turned up from
all around the world since they were so piercing to the ears) and danced a silly dance with the
squirrels. She always savoured her time with nature, because during the cold, hard months of
winter the birds go to warmer countries, but some smart people call that migrating and the squirrels
went to sleep for ages and ages also known as hibernating, as for the ducks, they just didn’t
seem to come out of their cosy homes at all. Octavia liked to imagine all the tiny ducklings gathered
around the hearth while the father duck read the paper and the mother duck made hot cocoa.
Before she knew it, her friends had come and party games were going nonstop. She had gifts
galore including a paint set, a book on how to identify different trees and flowers and a homemade
book along with various other items.
This is what she’d been waiting for. It was time to blow out the candles. She had her cake
specially made by her local bakery and it had a massive flower on it. The petals were crimson and
the centre was a nice lemon colour. She knew exactly what to wish for. Snow.
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PRIMARY FICTION
So she wished for snow. She supposed it wouldn’t happen as it never did when she wished for
snow, so it didn’t. But what Octavia did not know is if she believed in the magic, her wish really
would come true.
Later on that day, after all her friends had gone home, Octavia was out in the garden,
thinking. Snow. Snow was stupid. How could it cover the ground in a blanket, when it was
apparently like powder? What if you got trapped underneath this blanket, and how on earth would
you build a snowman or have a snowball fight? Would you have to tear this blanket Mother Nature
so kindly gave to us?
All of these thoughts whizzed wildly around her head, as something that was simply amazing,
but she was unaware of, happened.
Because she had pondered the subject of blankets for so long, obscure thoughts raced into
her mind, like how on earth would you wrap a pig in a blanket, and then eat it (who would even
want to do that?)? Or who invented blankets?
Suddenly, the heavens opened and two birds flew out. They seemed to be fighting. Despite
their arguing, the pair flew directly towards Octavia. She immediately recognised them from her
nature studies. They were blue tits. Speedily, the slightly bigger one told the opposite bird to be
quiet. Both of them landed softly on a branch near the little girl.
“You tell her.” “No I did it last time, remember?” Octavia seemed astonished about how these
birds could talk. She’d known them to sing and many birds had become her friends over the years
but had never spoken to her. They seemed to have reached an agreement and one of them turned
to face her. The other whistled in the direction of the forest and out came three squirrels.
“Don’t tell me the ducks are late again.”
“Afraid so, madam.”
“Right, just to get this over and done with,” started the smaller bird, taking out a long scroll in
a bored fashion. “You are Octavia Evergreen and you have either applied at our website
(www.weatherchanger.com) or wished for snow, correct?”
“Correct,” she replied, startled.
“I, Noah McAntface, don’t laugh at the name; hereby grant your wish, as the association of
the weather birds feels you deserve this, especially on your birthday. You may have suffered to get
this far but you have succeeded. Congratulations, and remember, believe in the magic.”
With that, the birds flew away and it began to snow. Real snow. It snowed for days on end, on
Octavia’s small house, with her small family, on a small street, quite near to a small town.
Several days later, the snow began to melt quickly. Octavia peered out her bedroom window
and ran outside, although she was still in her knickers and vest she ran outside. Her snowman
(Fergal) called out her name.
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PRIMARY FICTION
“Octavia, have you learned your lesson?”
“What lesson?”
“Patience is the key to life.”
And with that he melted, and the young girl ran inside and smiled. From then on winter was
her favourite season. Well, perhaps second favourite, spring would forever be number one.
“Come on ducklings, we’re going to be late,” rushed mother duck. “Where have they gone,
this is our meeting point?”
Tara McDermott
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PRIMARY FICTION
Diary of an Orca
January 1st
I am a whale. I am big and intelligent, that’s why I speak and can write in my diary. I am black and
white, with a big tail. I spurt water. Sometimes for fun I spurt huge fountains of water.
One time I was having dinner with my parents. I said I would like to have an adventure and go
round the globe. My dad said it would be too long to go through all those oceans.
But I went to bed thinking I should go around the world.
February 1st
I made a map of the globe so that I would not get lost. Dad was not very happy that I was going. I
packed my food, it was mostly shrimp and fish. Mum said it was exciting that I was doing such a
journey. I was particularly looking forward to the Bahamas.
March 17th
Once I was passing Ireland I heard a few odd noises. I thought it was a truck or a police car, but then
I figured out it was Maghery Band on the streets. I wanted to see so I went close to the land. The
band was marching and I could see them!
Once they were finished I thought I should keep going. But suddenly I dropped my map onto land.
Maybe I was too close to the Maghery Band.
But then a little boy threw it back into the sea. I said thanks but he did not understand whale
language.
Just before the day was over I swam away from Ireland. Next I was going to Spain to meet my
friends.
April 1st
The Atlantic Ocean was big and vast. My friends the beaked whales are so lucky to live in such an
amazing place. I said ‘hi’ to Jimmy who was the beaked whale I knew best. ‘Hi,’ replied Jimmy. I
said, ‘do you want to come around the globe with me?’ He said that he’d love to but he was very
busy for the next few weeks. I said that I understood.
We said goodbye, Jimmy told me to stay safe.
Next stop is Sicily.
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PRIMARY FICTION
May 8th
As I approached Sicily I smelled smoke. Not just any kind of smoke but smoke from a volcano! It was
very active. Suddenly a big boulder fell into the sea. It almost hit me. Then an even bigger one
almost hit me again. I swam along fast as an even bigger boulder flew towards me. It hit me!
Almost!
I thought the volcano was going to erupt very soon. So I swam away.
June 22nd
I swam to the Skeleton Coat in Namibia. I went into a shipwreck. Suddenly my stomach rumbled. I
thought I should eat. Luckily there were loads of fish. So I swam around rounding up all the fish.
Eventually I had eaten five butterfly fish, eleven crabs, one squid, three tortoises, and twenty
jellyfish. I was stuffed. Just then came a great white shark so I swam away.
July 8th
I swam to Australia and saw a boat of whale watchers. I wanted them to see me so I flicked my tail
up in the air. I thought I should do human watching. I saw humans surfing. I enjoyed watching
them. Just then a woman fell off her board. So I went to save her. I put her on my back and put her
back on her board and swam away before someone harmed me.
August 4th
I swam to Antarctica. I saw a ship of scientists, one looked at me. I looked at him. He said ‘there’s a
whale.’ I swam away worried that he might do something to me. I thought I should have some fun
so I swam with my cousin the blue whale. We popped our heads up and frightened the penguins.
We swam under icebergs.
Later I saw the ship of scientists stuck in the icebergs. So I popped my head up and pushed the ship
out. But I swam away before the scientist from a few hours ago came back.
September 16th
On the way home I saw underwater volcanoes. I thought it was very odd. But then I remembered
from my atlas that Hawaii is a state of America in the Pacific Ocean. It is a group of island that are
the tops of underwater volcanoes.
Later that day I saw giant redwood trees. They were huge, but I was even bigger!
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PRIMARY FICTION
October 31st
When I passed Japan I saw a big ship. Not any ship but a ghost ship! It moved slowly. It was pale
green and icy colours. The pirates shrieked, ‘ahoy, matey!’ at me. They wore caps and stripy tops
and had swords. I was not scared though because they were just ghosts.
All the same I swam away fast.
November 5th
When I saw the first polar bear I knew I was home. Then I saw mum, she raced towards me and
gave me a big kiss and hug. My dad came and said he was relieved I was home. He thought a human
took me to Sea Life because I was gone nearly a year now.
But I was back!
He gave me a hug crying with happy tears.
Just then I remembered I had forgotten to go to the Bahamas!
December 25th
It was Christmas Day. Dad made us a dinner of shark and box jellyfish. I had presents for my parents
from my travels. After we had eaten I gave them their presents. Mum got a pearl necklace. Dad got
a giant seashell. They both loved their presents.
Lucian Brown
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PRIMARY FICTION
The House of the Goose’s Nest
The house had a name, but I had to ask Mum what it meant. Nead na Gé. It’s the house of the
goose’s nest, she said, but she noticed I was paying more attention to the sky. When we set off
walking from Burtonport, it looked like it might bucket down at any moment. It was a dry spell on a
freezing February day and the wind off the sea kept nearly knocking us over. I couldn’t see why we
were walking so far away from the car.
My little brother, Johann, would have loved to watch the fishing boats but it was too windy.
We walked past harbour buildings, under the massive white windmill. It was my first time seeing the
windmill up close. We live on the other side of the bay and from there it looks like a toy. It was loud
too, when you’re hurrying along underneath.
My dad is a landscape painter and I could see him looking around when we left the fish
factory behind. Now it was all land and sea and rocks with small boats. The kinds of things he puts in
his pictures.
It felt like we’d been walking a long time, but we really hadn’t. The path got narrower and the
clouds got bigger and darker. I wanted to turn back.
There’s the boathouse, said Mum, pointing to an old grey building. Still there, said Dad. It’s
starting to rain, I said. We all looked up. It’ll hold off, said Dad. Come on, quick.
Soon we found ourselves standing in front of a huge closed gate, taller even than my Dad. We
lived here, said Mum. A long time ago we took a year out of college and ended up here. Mum and
Dad met in art college in Dublin when they were teenagers. I would be a teenager in two years.
Dad was opening the gate. Mum said careful, there might be a dog. Look at the place, said
Dad, pulling the gate wide. No one has been here in ages.
We walked in. We stood in front of a long building with three padlocked doors and boardedup
windows. Mum and Dad were just staring. Johann was looking all around. This is where we lived,
said Mum. I couldn’t believe anyone could live there. It looked more like a shed than a house and
like it might fall down before our eyes. It was grey and dirty and sad. It looked nicer when we were
here, said Mum. It was pink. She was pointing again, this time at little specks of pink on the grey
walls. Don’t go to art college, guys, said Dad, heading off in the direction of a little path.
This was the main house, said Mum. The caretaker lived here with a big black dog called
Barry. We didn’t have a kitchen so we cooked dinner up here. Look, the curtains are still the same.
At least this looked like a house, a very big house, but it was in a bad state. Moss was growing all
over the roof and the paint was worn away. It looked sad too, but happy in comparison to where
Mum and Dad lived.
Although evening was hours away it was getting dark. We should go, I said. Nobody moved so
I just set off back down the path and they followed. That’s when I saw the little grey cat curled up
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PRIMARY FICTION
asleep on top of a hedge. I said hello, but it didn’t move. It was made of stone! And it wasn’t on top
of the hedge, there was a wall behind the hedge. Was this here when you lived here? I asked. Mum
and Dad looked and shook their heads. Don’t think so, they said. But the cat looked like it had been
there a long time, just sleeping.
Johann spotted the pond through a gap in the hedge and walked over. It had frogs when we
were here, said Mum. Now it looked dark and full of weeds. Johann felt his feet getting wet so he
turned around.
Dad found it hard to close the gate, it was so heavy and damp and the latch was rusty. Mum
and Dad seemed sad leaving and kept looking over their shoulders as we walked away.
We were halfway back to the harbour when the rain started. We ran to a hawthorn tree and
put up our umbrellas. Mum and Dad shared their green umbrella with polka dots. Johann spotted a
boat moving from under his Spiderman umbrella. My Moshi Monsters umbrella kept me nearly
completely dry, even when the rain got heavier and heavier and the boat heading out to sea
vanished even though it was still there.
My legs were getting tired by the time the rain grew lighter and we were talking about moving
on. Still under our umbrellas we left the hawthorn and walked towards the sound of the windmill.
Imagine if we were walking back here back when we lived at Nead na Gé and we met this little boy
and girl walking along the road, said Mum, looking at me and Johann. I wonder if they’d know who
we are.
Cornelia Brown
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NORTH WEST WORDS
YOUNG WRITERS COMPETITONS 2018 WINNERS
Painting: Daisies in Sunlight
Lorraine Carey
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PRIMARY POETRY
Quiz Night
If you know how old an octogenarian is [eighty],
Or where Port- Au-Prince is the capital of? [Haiti],
Then the school’s quiz night will be for you [definitely],
Because if you win this, you’ll be smart enough for the presidency.
The recipe for a winning team: A clever clogs who’s always right,
Who knew the highest mountain and inventor of the light,
Our sports correspondent, who knows it all,
From pitch to court, doesn’t matter which ball.
Our history buff knows thousands of dates,
Kings and Queens with all their ill fates.
The icing on the cake will be someone who can write fast.
Heaven knows, you don’t want to come last!
You’ll need to listen to the questions however, don’t be caught out,
Let them repeat it, if you have any doubt,
Don’t rush: Always think before you speak,
Don’t be mistaking the Roman gods for the Greek.
The night was upon us, it was all very tense,
I had a good feeling, almost a sixth sense,
There was a hush through the crowd as the MC began to talk,
We’ll be fine, as long we know the scientific word for chalk.
First question was easy about a high street store,
Which is not just a book shop but so much more,
Selling toys, games and books for all the seasons,
There is only one choice it must be Easons.
The second question was harder, we hadn’t a clue,
For it was “What is the currency of Timbuktu?”
Three and four were easy enough, we got them right,
Then five came along and gave us a fright.
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PRIMARY POETRY
It was the nearing the end and we’re in the lead
Everyone was expecting us to succeed.
We couldn’t see how anyone can be greater,
Then the MC announced, “We have a tiebreaker!”
Final question, who wrote “Of Mice and Men?”
“I know this”, I cried, “Give me the pen!”
“John Steinbeck, of course. He’s in my top ten!”
Quiz over, we won! Auf Wiedersehen
Sean McGettrick
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PRIMARY POETRY
The Defeat of the Sewing Machine
Verse 1
There was an old lady, who was right and just,
Who had an old sewing machine that was getting rather bust.
She took it to a car fixer but he said, “GO AWAY!”
She asked a fishy fox, but he declined and didn’t stay.
Verse 2
She had a very scary dream that happened just that night,
So she went downstairs to her tea and held on way too tight.
She drank it and drank it until her tummy gurgled,
Suddenly t’was a knock on the door and in came Mr. Furgle.
Verse 3
He said I might be at your service offering out his hand,
She shook it and realised it felt like crumbling sand.
She showed him her problem and said aloud just why,
She didn’t have the money for another one to buy.
Verse 4
“I might just have to take it home, if you want it well.”
So he did just what he said but cast a mighty spell.
He made it go ballistic eating everything in sight,
It didn’t stitch things up with its enormous appetite.
Verse 5
When it was brought back to its rightful home,
It didn’t move a bit just yet, it didn’t even roam.
The old lady squealed with glee, she couldn’t just remember,
When she’d been this happy, maybe late December?
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PRIMARY POETRY
Verse 6
As she left the room with glee, she suddenly started to wonder,
Where did all the lamp shades go and the lightbulbs that went under
She turned around quite frantically to see oh, such a mess,
The machine had gobbled up the table and her nicest kitchen press.
Verse 7
The kitchen was its starter, its main course was the stairs,
For dessert it ate the neighbourhood which could not be repaired.
It soon took over Ireland, the world began to fall,
To the moon and stars and back it really gobbled all.
Verse 8
Except for a lad named Jimmy Foy, who was from Ardee,
Who was here and well and going to save his cup of tea.
At least he came up with a plan that he thought would do the trick,
He got a piece of thread and needle but the clock was starting to tick.
Verse 9
So he put a spell on it to make it rapidly fast,
And soon his plan was working and it looked like just the past.
So how was he supposed to put an end to the machine?
Soon a thought came easily, quick, good and clean.
Verse 10
Everything has an off button, so why would this not?
So he went straight to the beast and attempted to his plot.
Jimmy won the VICTORY late that night at half past three,
And went home to drink his tea, in his very own Ardee.
Maria Foy
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PRIMARY POETRY
My Family
I love my family
My family is great
Sometimes we are silly
And sometimes we are late
Every one of us is like a different colour
Even though we fight we’ll always love each other
The stories we read at bedtime make us very happy
It makes us laugh out loud because it’s really funny
One time we went to a wildlife park and saw some tigers and cheetahs
We got some umbrellas and raincoats but then the sun came out to meet us
On our summer holidays we visit lots of places
We see our friends and family and lots of different faces
We drove from the South East to the North West in one day
To beautiful Cruit Island from lovely Ardmore Bay
We love when we’re together but sometimes we say goodbye
We get a little sad when daddy has to fly
But then we think of happy times and all the fun we had
And when we look at photographs it makes us feel so glad
I love my family, my family is great
Sometimes we are silly and sometimes we are late
Every one of us is like a different colour
Even though we fight we’ll always love each other
Rebecca Gallagher
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YOUNG WRITERS COMPETITONS 2018 WINNERS
Painting: Ascension
Lorraine Carey
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CHILDREN’S WRITING COMPETITONS 2018 WINNERS
Photograph: Bronze Statue, Hiring Fair Boy, Market Square, Letterkenny, Co. Donegal
Eamonn Bonner
Paintings by Lorraine Carey
Lorraine Carey is a poet and self-taught artist, specialising in oils and watercolours. A Decorative Glass
Designer by trade, she often uses natural materials such as slate and stone as well as glass in her work and
uses her rural surroundings as the focus of many pieces. She draws on inspiration from wildlife, flowers and
birds. Sea and landscapes feature mainly in her oil compositions, capturing the myriad of changing colours
within the ocean, skies and the rugged contours of Ireland's stunning coastline. All Lorraine's art to date,
features on her page Lorosio Art https://www.facebook.com/CareyLorraine1/
Eamonn Bonner is from the fishing village of Burtonport and true to his roots ,many of his photographs are
of the coast and the sea. Eamonn's last solo exhibition was in Cafe Blend Letterkenny. His photographs have
featured in books, magazines and local newspapers.
With special thanks to our young writers competition sponsor, Eason Letterkenny
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