Writing Contest Award Recipients — 2011
A total of 29 wonderful stories were received in the Monroe Arts Alliance's first-ever Writing Contest. With the tough assignment of writing a short piece in any of five categories, our local writers met the challenge with charm, wit, and talented wordsmithing.
The judges -- Josh Baldwin of the Greenbrier Quarterly, Barbara Elliott of New River Technical and Community College, and Gerald Swick, author and editor -- had many compliments for the entries. One said, "The overall quality was quite good, better than I've seen in some other localized contests. Selecting the Best of Show wasn't easy. A few submissions stand a chance of being published with just a little more work." The judges' comments on individual work were shared with the authors.
The Best of Show winner is a piece entitled "The Year We Loved the Pear Tree," by Brittney Cassity of Gap Mills. She received $100 for her winning work.
First prizes of $50, and second prizes of $25 were awarded as follows:
In the Life Stories category, first place went to "My Sandra," by Merri Morgan of Greenville. Second place was "Retirement in the Country," by Becky Crabtree of Lindside. Honorable Mention went to "Moving Day," by Jo Will of Lindside.
In the Fiction category, the judges chose "An Ice Cube's Chance," by Brittney Cassity. Honorable Mention was given to "A Raindrop Adventure" by Catherine Noel; "Foundation of Stone" by James T. McMahon; and "Christmas 1992" by Ashley Boone.
The Nature/Our Environment category was won by "From the Front Lines of Spring" again by Brittney Cassity. Second place went to Shirley Walker of Salt Sulphur Springs for "The Majestic Tree;" Honorable Mention was given to Catherine Noel for "What Does a Dandelion Do?" and "A Five Dog Biscuit Walk" by Marti Minogue of Rock Camp.
A description of "Hoke's Mill Bridge" written by Catherine Noel topped the History/Landmarks category, with Honorable Mention to "Salt Sulphur Springs" by Shirley Walker and "A View of Rehoboth Through New Eyes" by Brittney Cassity.
The For Seniors Only category was won by Shirley Walker for her essay "When I Was Young." Second Place went to "A Day Without Routine" by Virginia Houchins. "My Grandparents' Dream" by Sheila Truby Johnson received Honorable Mention.
Winners were notified by phone and mail and will be given the opportunity to read their work at the Arts Alliance's "Art in the Hills" event on July 23rd. The Arts Alliance is researching the cost of publishing a collection of these stories under the title "Monroe County Tales."
"We will probably make a few changes in next year's contest based on what we've learned," says Judith Bair, director of the Arts Alliance. "We'll restrict the number of entries to two per author, and intensify the challenge by increasing the word count to 500-1500 for non-fiction, and 1500-2500 in the fiction category. But we'll keep the same five categories, and invite only Monroe County writers to participate -- and we'll hope to find judges as excellent as the three we had this year. We hope these talented writers and others will start working on their entries for next year right now!"
By permission, we are printing the winning story below.
The Year We Loved the Pear Tree
Brittney Cassity
As far as pear trees went it was big. It was also the one I was not allowed to touch, or pick from, and maybe I shouldn't even look at it. This of course meant I could usually be found nestled in the big fork just over halfway up, camouflaged in its slender, close-packed leaves, with pear juice dripping from my chin and dribbling down my arm. I was not alone. The tree was welcoming and my cousins would be ranged along branches and leaning against the trunk from claimed perches all through its mass.
The tree was meant to be climbed. The lowest branch had just the right dip to invite a young body to pull itself up, bark worn smooth on the left side to protect bare knees as the climber stretched for the handhold one branch up. The tree wanted my cousins and me to laze back and giggle around mouthfuls of stolen fruit. Its branches were spaced just close enough that even the youngest of us could scamper up it with ease, while I, as the second oldest, didn't have to worry about any tattle-tale scrapes and bruises informing our grandmother that we had once again, and very literally, been involved with the age-old business of forbidden fruit.
In summer we danced around its gnarled old trunk, ducking and weaving while we pretended to ignore the heavy golden teardrops that pulled its straining branches in tense arches to the ground. We buried our eyes against arms pressed hard against the tree's scarred bark and hollered out the magical hide-and-seek count, our voices getting tangled with the hushing sound of wind through thick leaves. The tree dropped fruit at our feet, encouraging us to replenish our overheated, sweating bodies with its secret gift as we rushed back to call "Base!" and tag the curl of exposed root that one of my aunts said was caused by a family of long-dead groundhogs.
Early autumn brought a touch of danger to our juicy binges. Bees hummed loudly, announcing their claim to any pear the tree let fall, and our grandmother made daily trips with her five-gallon bucket to collect the ripe and reachable. The tree stood, surrounded by a shifting wall of angry black bodies, tempting us to brave the danger of stings and tanned backsides to once again shelter in its strong arms. We were cautious, though, and sent only one sacrificial member to run resupply missions, telling them to suck it up if they were stung and leaving them to face punishment alone if Grandma caught them.
Winter sent the tree to sleep; naked branches standing lonely against the cold winds until a blanket of sparkling white hid them. We left snow angels at its feet for protection through the long dark months and then went into Grandma's warm kitchen to eat bowls of sweet, home-canned pears.