Write-In 2019: 'Happy Family' by Sue Massey

Gabi, don’t follow the example of mummy dearest and be late for school! Your packed lunch is half-made in the fridge. You’ll have to finish it for yourself. I’m late for work! Sorry darling. Love you.x

Esther – couldn’t find an ironed shirt so had to wear a crumpled one. Thanks a lot. Love you. Ben.x

B. Stop being so needy. Iron your own fucking shirt. Love you. E.x

Mummy. You are an utter loser. How could you not put the cheese inside the bread? Love you lots – all the same. G.x

Hey Dad! When you get home tonight can we play football on the park? Hopefully it won’t be dark? PS Gabs – did you tell Millie I fancy her? Rich.

Rickie. Millie does not fancy you. Get over yourself. Love you. G.x 

Stop calling me Rickie. Rich.

Ben, darling (eugh!). If you’re home before me, please chop some onions, celery, carrots, garlic. I’ll bring the minced beef in with me, and a bottle of red. Spag Bol for dinner – if we’re lucky? E.x

Mummy dearest – I’ve already booked dad to play football – so Gabs will have to prep the veg. Dad – you can thank me later for getting you out of that one. Rich.

Rickie. I am not prepping the veg. Over to you mate – you lazy batard. But I still love you! G.x

Esther. Doubt I’ll be home before you (especially as I’ve been commissioned to prepare the veg). Ha! Ha! Sorry Rich – footie another night? Ben.

Ok guys. Shall we meet up in the pub and go for an Indian? Dad’s paying. Love you all. E. xxxx

Write-In 2019: 'Dear Harold' by Amy Barnes

Dear Harold,

I am leaving you.

It is finally time for me to move on.

Susan is going to help me find an apartment. Maybe near the ocean. I always wanted to live by the ocean.

Love, Carol

Carol wrote the words with the only pen left in the junk drawer. Red ink on plain white copy paper. She looked at the words and crumpled the paper. The words felt too harsh to end an almost fifty-year marriage.

“What words should I use?”

She asked the almost-empty room. The entire house was empty for the first time since he carried her over the threshold. Only a few wire hangers remained in the hall closet. She looked down at her black dress and wished she had left an iron at the house. The linen skirt was already wrinkling.

She began again in cursive red.

Dear Harold,

I am leaving you. You really shouldn’t be surprised. It’s been a long time coming.

She giggled a minute before continuing.

I bought a new black dress and am wearing my hair down like you like. I feel pretty. For the first time in a long time.

I hope you will miss me.

She hesitated before closing out the letter. They had never really exchanged sentimental letters even when he was away at war. She already missed him.

Love,

Carol

Somehow, the second attempt seemed less harsh. More worthy of fifty years.

Susan honked her horn out in front of the split-level ranch. Carol folded the letter and put in on the mantel. She turned in her new black sensible heels and walked out the front door for the last time.

She knew it was time to go. Harold’s funeral started at 2:00.

Write-In 2019: 'Emailing Shakespeare for answers' by Alison Powell

Hi Mr Shakespeare,

Does Macbeth have PTSD? Or is he just evil? I need to know for my essay (due on Tuesday).

Thanx,

Jayden

Dear Jayden,

I’m guessing you want the bard. I don’t know what they’re teaching you in school these days, but you’re 400 years too late.

I don’t think he would have used email anyway. He’s always seemed like a man who would respect his quill and ink.

But, if it’s of any interest, I think Macbeth was set up by the witches. His downfall was the result of his attempts do battle with fate. There’s not a person on this earth who’s strong enough for that.

Best wishes,

Bill

Hi Mr Shakespeare,

I’ve been thinking - what is Lady Macbeth’s real name? Is it a bit like Curley’s wife in Of Mice and Men where she hasn’t got a name because women weren’t seen like proper members of society? Cos she seems a bit tougher than that, so I was thinking she could be called Beyoncé or Taylor, or something.

Also, do all women in books die? It don’t seem right. There should be a book where a woman is the ruler of everything and lives forever. Can you write one like that?

Thanx,

Jayden

Dear Jayden,

Everyone dies in the end. Men. Women. Authors.

You and me.

Sorry.

Bill

Hi Mr Shakespeare,

When I leave school, I’m going to be an astronaut. What’s the point of reading plays if that’s what I’m going to do? How will poetry help me when I’m on the moon?

Thanx,

Jayden

Dear Jayden,

It’s a beautiful thing, the moon.

Did you know that it reflects the light of the earth? The ashen light. We see the same light twice. Is that not a thing worth pondering?

Best wishes,

Bill

Write-In 2019: 'Not very subtle' by Judy Tweddle

fillet steak
mushrooms
onions
garlic
check black pepper
oven chips?
salad things
that nice red – Sainsbury’s – 2 bottles
brandy?
washing up liquid
icecream
deodorant
brandy
shower gel
catfood
condoms

Write-In 2019: ‘Blue notes on the railings’ by Gemma Govier

Your curly hair is the best.

I love you.

Thank you for holding my hand on the zoo trip.

I hope you like your new garden.  My dad made the bench.

You are the best.

I miss you.

Thank you for being my teacher.

You are a new star in heaven.

Write-In 2019: 'Notes to Self In A Minor' by Mileva Anastasiadou

A simple melody’s been guiding me lately: la-mi-re-la is my grocery list and a song of mourning and anger. Notes to help me remember the essentials and stay alive.

La: Buy lager. Many cans to soothe the pain.

My stuffed nose renders me nostalgic. But I remember how it feels like. To breathe freely. Or feel loved.
Remember; what has once existed, can’t stop having existed.

Mi: Buy milk. White as her skin was.

It’s funny how the soul travels in body. Or out of it. How body parts can turn into anchors that keep us chained to life. We held hands at school. As we grew older, our bodies collided and in those explosions, our love found shelter, until we grew old enough to only stare into each other’s eyes.
Remember: love embodied feels visceral and real.

Re: Buy red wine. Mix it with beer.

When the end approached, she knew. She looked deep into my eyes and I kept staring back at her until her gaze was empty. The dying of light happening before my raging eyes.
One minute she was there. Then she wasn’t.
For a while, I was lonely. Then I wasn’t.
Remember; once you have been truly loved, you can’t feel lonely again.

La: Buy lamps. You need much light to blind you.

The deeper I look into the night sky, the better I see her. I then leave my body on the ground, transform into a bird and travel to meet her. Our love is now bodiless, yet it still exists.
Remember; true love never vanishes. It only moves in circles throughout time, taking forms only lovers can see. Sometimes they can’t. For reality’s blinding them.
Underlined note to self: Do not let it.

Rage against the dying of love.

Write-In 2019: 'Me and my parrot' by Jim Green

DON’T PROCRASTINATE!

(unless it’s really necessary?)

GET ON WITH IT!

(maybe when I’ve finished making these notes?)

DEADLINE’S LOOMING!

(still time then)

BAD HABIT!

(things can only get better)

FINISH WHAT YOU STARTED!

(which one?)

THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES!

(que sera sera)

YOU’RE ONLY MAKING IT WORSE FOR YOURSELF!

(what if I’m not good enough?)

YOU ARE WHO YOU ARE!

(I could become someone else)

IT IS WHAT IT IS!

(I could try something else)

GET YOUR FINGER OUT!

(get off my shoulder!)

IT’S FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!

(thanks for trying)

I GIVE UP!

(hasta la vista, baby)