During December, while Tuesday has remained the ‘tales from the fiction vaults’ day, I’ve chosen to make them all ‘tales from the Christmas fast fiction vaults’.
For these specific short runs, I asked friends in comics and various fields of entertainment to challenge. Which they did. With funny, silly, clever titles and weird, odd, wonderful words to use.
So here are two more, from 2015’s Twelve Days of Fast Fiction.
Though he deals with irrational numbers, the very rational Matt Parker is that rare person: a mathematician who not only enjoys convincing others of the joy and fun inherent in mathematics… but actually succeeds in doing so. He’s a very funny, very smart man, who could justifiably claim that the lowest ring of hell is reserved for those who deliberately misuse charts.
It was particularly enjoyable to be able to write a story including numbers for Matt.
Pippa Evans is a very nice person who is astonishingly talented. I put it that way around because otherwise you’d be so overwhelmed with her talent that you’d never remember that she’s also a very, very lovely person. She’s funny, silly and incredibly hard working, and I like her a lot.
There are not many stories that, the moment I think of the hook, I laugh out loud. Pippa’s challenge gave me that delight.
Both received the same prompt as always:
Give me a title of up to four words in length, together with a single word you want me to include in the tale, and I will write a story of exactly 200 words.
That’s it. The stories that resulted always included the word, they always fitted the title, but usually in ways the challenger hadn’t anticipated. And they were always exactly 200 words in length.
I hope you enjoy these examples…
Title: When Nothing Adds Up
Word: moreover
Challenger: Matt Parker
Length: 200 words exactly
He stepped out of the vehicle, so very weary; he’d been thinking about his bed for the past hour, although in truth an hour meant little to him. He patted down his travelling companions, murmured a few words to his favourite, then left them to be taken away by assistants.
Assistants? When had he stopped calling them elves? he wondered, and shook his head, chuckling. It was not a pleasant sound; despite legends, Santa rarely laughed from pleasure.
The final task awaited him; one last job before blessed sleep. An elf waited by his desk, pouring over a list: billions of names, each accompanied by green ticks, some large, some almost microscopic. The elf, warily, pointed out the discrepancies to Santa: the total number of gifts did not equal that of the recipients. Moreover, he could not verify six of the names. Santa sighed, and reached into his coat.
He was the sixty-eighth elf to have disappeared without trace in the past four centuries. Others had been more stupid, or more clever.
Santa walked to his rooms and placed several large boxes by his bed; then he took the list and slowly, carefully, appended a tick to his name.
© Lee Barnett, 2015
Title: Brand New Dignity, Jane
Word: clasp
Challenger: Pippa Evans
Length: 200 words exactly
It had taken her weeks to find just the right berries, but with some help, she had gathered enough for her purpose. Crushed between two lumps of wood, then mixed with the remains of specific beetles, they would produce the exact shades of vermillion and cream necessary.
Staining the cloth had been easy; the obtaining of it had not, and she repressed a shudder at the nature of her sacrifice. But it had been necessary. She’d given up so much since she’d made her choice, long ago, but this… this she would not forsake. Similarly, making the leather belt had been simple, the buckle and clasp far harder to create.
Sewing the costume had been more pleasant than she’d anticipated, the act bringing back memories of her mother’s instructions, her smell, her smile.
She’d abandoned her first plan, knowing that the required explanations would be too tortuous and absurd; her replacement victim, however, trusted her completely.
It had been worth it though. The laughter from her child had made it worthwhile; giggles of delight at the sight of a chimpanzee standing to attention while dressed in full Father Christmas outfit. Her husband merely grunted, but then the apeman rarely spoke.
© Lee Barnett, 2015
See you tomorrow, with… something else.
Sixty-one days. Sixty-one posts. One 2022 very scarily and vert rapidly approaching.
I’ve signed up to ko-fi.com, so if you fancy throwing me a couple of quid every so often, to keep me in a caffeine-fuelled typing mood, feel free. I’m on https://ko-fi.com/budgiehypoth
This post is part of a series of blog entries, counting down to the new year. You can see the other posts in the run by clicking here.
I can’t remember how I first met Jason Arnopp or first discovered his writing; I suspect it had something to do with his career in the SAS psy-warfare division. He’ll deny that, but then of course he would.
Jamie McKelvie is unfairly talented. No, I mean that; it’s genuinely unfair that someone is so talented, and also so nice.
Kurt Busiek has written some of my favourite comics books. It’s as simple as that. His acclaimed runs on The Avengers set the standard by which all of their later tales could be measured. The same could be said about a run on Iron Man and – a personal favourite – Thunderbolts, which he created. His Superman: Secret Identity is flat out one of the best Superman tales ever written and JLA/Avengers series is still one of my favourite crossover tales. Marvels similarly remains one of my favourite fully painted works (art by Alex Ross). Kurt just gets things… right. 
I first met Frances Barber three or four years ago, in the company of another alumni of these challenges, Corrie Corfield. I liked Frances immediately, which merely saved time, as I’ve liked more with every passing year. She’s lovely company, is a very funny lady, and has a filthy laugh that she should bottle and sell. Though she gained a new generation of fans with her portrayal of Madame Kovarian in Doctor Who, she’s been a theatre, tv and film actor for [censored] years, gaining rave reviews in King Lear and The Seagull, although I particularly loved her guest roles on TV in Silk and a particularly fun early episode of Death In Paradise.
Chip Zdarsky is… well, I’m not sure, to be honest. He’s a humourist, the award-winning artist of Sex Criminals (which he co-created with Matt Fraction, an alumni of these very challenges), a writer and artist of other comic books, a former mayoral candidate – in Toronto – who never actually registered to run, and a very, very, very funny man. His pseudonymous character of “Steve Murray” was so successful a charavter that even his parents fell for it, bringing up “Murray” while “Zdarsky” lurked in the background. Have I mentioned that he’s a funny man? Oh, right. He’s also very nice. Horribly, horribly nice. (Emphasis on the horribly, there.)
Pippa Evans is a very nice person who is astonishingly talented. I put it that way around because otherwise you’d be so overwhelmed with her success as the burned-out rock star Loretta Maine, her appearances on television radio (including regular appearances on The Now Show), her West End run as part of Showstoppers!, her razor sharp ability at improvisation, her co-creation of Sunday Assembly, and her musical mastery that you’d never remember that she’s also a very, very lovely person. She’s funny, silly and incredibly hard working, and I like her a lot. I’m so pleased she agreed to be part of this year’s run of challengers. 
Hugo Rifkind is a writer I like, a lot, both as a person and for the elegance and intelligence of his writing. He’s also one of the few columnists who can, in just a few well-chosen words, puncture the pomposity of politicians, make an important point and make me laugh out loud… with the same sentence. A frequent panelist on The News Quiz, his columns in The Times and The Spectator are always fun, invariably highly intelligent, and sometimes very, very silly.
Mitch Benn is an incredibly talented author, comedian and comedy-songwriter, and one of my closest friends, for which I never cease to be grateful. I’ve been a fan of his comedy for almost fifteen years, and it’s always a surprise to me that we’ve only been friends for four years or so. He’s also one of the smartest people I know, and it’s incredibly rare that we chat when I don’t come away having learned something important about comedy, politics or any one of the fairly large number of interests we share.
Nick Doody is one of my favourite writers and stand-up comedians. He’s also – no coincidence – one of the smartest comedians on the circuit. His very intelligent, very funny material makes you think long after you’ve left his shows and he never plays to the lowest common denominator. Nick seems to suggest ‘you’re not as stupid as the politicians try to pretend, so let’s not pretend it either, eh?’. His recent Edinburgh show dealt in part with the difference between how we see ourselves and how others see us. It was brilliantly incisive and superbly funny, and was one of my highlights of the festival. Go see him – if you want clever stand-up, you won’t be disappointed.
Neil Gaiman is… well, he’s Neil Gaiman. And I’m very grateful for that, as well as his for friendship for coming up to twenty years now. Everything you hear about Neil being incredibly supportive and being there when you need someone to be there… it’s all true enough, but throughout our friendship, he’s always offered advice when I wanted it, help when I needed it, and when necessary, a kick up the backside when I’ve not wanted it, but have so very desperately needed it. I’m incredibly grateful for every moment of it. 
I first became aware of Rufus Hound when he was a team captain on Argumental, and he made an impression on me then as a nice, clever, funny man. In the years since, I’ve prefixed “very” to those labels, and it’s always great to see him on telly, or hear him on the radio, especially presenting My Teenage Diary on Radio 4 which quickly became essential listening. He was kind enough to challenge me for Twenty-Four Hours of Fast Fiction for Comic Relief in 2013, and it was a genuine pleasure to finally meet him a couple of weeks ago and discover he’s even nicer, even funnier and even cleverer in person.
Joanne Harris is a multi-award winning author with a string of novels to her name. Perhaps best known for Hotel Chocolat, she crafts her tales exquisitely, just as she does her characters, who remain in your memory long after you’ve finished reading the story. Whether it’s matters of faith and superstition or how the ostensibly mundanity of life can change gradually into something else, the themes of her writing similarly linger.
David Baddiel is a clever funny comedian who’s a funny clever writer. I first came across him in The Mary Whitehouse Experience and have followed his career with increasing interest ever since. Whether it’s as a novelist, a playwright, screenplay writer, columnist or stand up comedian, his words always make me think, which I love. He’s also in the forefront of the campaign trying to rid football of the unfortunate but not uncommon anti-semitism in the game. I like him a lot for the comedy and admire him even more for the campaign. I’ve not met him yet but hopefully we’ll meet at some point, so I can say all of this to him in person and embarrass both of us.
Michael Moran is a writer whose particular purview is entertainment, which is fitting since he’s a vastly entertaining raconteur and a lovely bloke. His articles have appeared in The Guardian and The New Statesman, but his primary work is online these days. If you’ve not been reading 
Bevis Musson is a comic book artist and writer whose work just gets better and better. His Dead Queen Detectives is laugh out loud funny, and for once, it’s a reflection of the creator, as his mind conjures ludicrous scenarios for DQD that make perfect sense once you read them. He’s also one of the kindest, gentlest people I know. He and his husband Chris have two delightful boys, Callum and Dylan. (Dylan suggested the title, so this is really written for him. Shhh, don’t tell Bevis.)
Matt Brooker, perhaps better known under his professional name of D’Israeli, is a comic book artist noted for the incredible detail he puts into his work. Working with Neil Gaiman, Warren Ellis and Grant Morrison, among others, his body of work has included The Sandman, Judge Dredd, Batman and several 2000AD Future Shocks. He’s been a friend for some years, and I never cease to be amazed at his skill.
Steven Shaviro is an academic who writes on culture and language, and does so in a way that prizes both but never uncritically. His works always teach me something; more importantly, they teach me things that I didn’t previously know I needed to learn. He’s also a very funny man, and I’m never quite sure sometimes just how far his tongue is in his cheek.
Antony Johnston is an intelligent writer, by which I mean that you become more intelligent by reading his books. His works always make you think, and re-readings of his superb opus Wasteland and his latest comic book The Fuse make you think even more. His graphic novel take on Julius Caesar – Julius – is flat out the best adaptation I’ve read, bar none. I’ve known Antony for well over a decade and I don’t think I’ve ever not been impressed by the way his mind works.
Tiernan Douieb is a writer and comedian with an uncommonly fine honed ability to present in front of separate audiences of families, children and adults and have all of them roaring with laughter; his material is even more impressive given the easy manner with which he presents it: both adults and children are utterly convinced he’s on their side. That he’s a genuinely lovely fellow makes it even nicer to know him.
2013 has been a wonderful year for the many fans of Sarah Pinborough’s writing, including me. Glorious prose that grabs you and doesn’t let you go until you’ve found out what happens next. And her stories stay with you long after you’ve finished reading, percolating in your mind until they pop up, delightfully unexpectedly. I like her (and her writing) a lot.
Kelly Sue DeConnick writes comics that grab your heart and brain in equal measure, tell them to pay attention and assure them they’ll be rewarded. And they always are. I love how she tackles speech patterns and dialogues; you couldn’t confuse any of the characters in her stories for any others, and her skills grow with each book she writes. She’s another person I want to meet; not only to say thank you for her stories, but that’s a big part of it. 
Paul Cornell is a writer of incredible talent, and it’s not limited to his works of fiction, superb though they are; his 
Leah Moore is a comic book writer of great skill; usually writing with her co-author, John Reppion, she has an envious gift for scene setting and storytelling. She’s also lovely, funny, sweet and I don’t see her nearly enough in person.
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