Remember to read on to the end for your free short story WHAT’S NEXT? Congratulations to the US publisher Penguin Random House for seeing the light following a major backlash in response to their publication of ‘amended’ versions of Roald Dahl’s books to render them more ‘acceptable’ to today’s readers. They now also will publish the books in their original unexpurgated form as the Classic Collection. The backlash such activity existed outside the US. Camilla, The Queen Consort, in a speech at Clarence House in recent days, spoke strongly in support of Freedom of Speech – and against messing with Roald Dahl’s books – forcing publisher Puffin UK (owned by Penguin Random House Children’s) to scrap its plans to ‘censor’ Dahl’s works. WHAT’S NEXT?
Congratulations to the US publisher Penguin Random House for seeing the light following a major backlash in response to their publication of ‘amended’ versions of Roald Dahl’s books to render them more ‘acceptable’ to today’s readers. They now also will publish the books in their original unexpurgated form as the Classic Collection. The backlash such activity existed outside the US. Camilla, The Queen Consort, in a speech at Clarence House in recent days, spoke strongly in support of Freedom of Speech – and against messing with Roald Dahl’s books – forcing publisher Puffin UK (owned by Penguin Random House Children’s) to scrap its plans to ‘censor’ Dahl’s works. A report for the year July 2021 to June 2022 lists 2,532 books banned in schools and libraries in the US. It involves books by 1,261 different authors, 290 illustrators, and 18 translators. Included in the report’s list of Most Frequently Banned Authors is Anh Do. Further, the ‘woke’ generation are pressuring publishers around the world to republish a whole lot of other existing books in more ‘appropriate language’. So, our congratulations to the one publisher (we know of) who has taken notice and republished Roald Dahl’s books as the author wrote them... regardless of how or why it happened. WHAT’S NEW? After what felt like a never ending marathon, Kayla Danoli reports she has finally typed The End to her historical fiction story covering a period of more than forty years and spanning five countries. Now the long editing process has begun. She has taken a scalpel to the first draft in the hope of excising at least 6,000 words from the monstrous tome. Neive Denis remains tight-lipped about her work, but admits she is having a ‘quiet time’ at the moment. Maybe she will have more to report next month. SOME LIGHT READING Below is your free short story inspired by a writing challenge set by an organisation back in 2020. While the challenge might be old, this story it inspired is newly created for this Newsletter. Daylight Robbery “MY BAG…!” Everyone within hearing of the woman’s shout froze –and that was about half the crowd in the shopping centre. Those in the same aisle and closest to her turned to look at the woman. The quickest among them saw a slender figure in a black tracksuit and flashy coloured trainers racing away to lose himself in one of the maze of aisles in the complex. Stunned and looking decidedly pale, the woman at the centre of the incident remained glued to the spot where it occurred. While her lungs, head and arms all demonstrated they were functioning normally, she appeared unable to move her feet. Her eyes, wide in horror, never left the rear of the retreating figure. “MY BAG…!” She again bellowed. This time, much of its effect was lost in the sound of boots thundering along the aisle towards her. A quick-thinking store owner had called security, who in turn alerted police officers as they raced past the officers’ station in the centre of the complex. Four uniforms rushed towards the distraught woman. …..The female security officer wrapped a firm arm around the victim’s shoulders in a bid to calm her sufficiently to answer their questions. “My bag… He stole my bag. It has everything in it: my car keys, credit cards, phone; my purse… everything.” At that point, the woman appeared to lose the power of speech to floods of tears. “Anyone here see what happened?” one of the police officers bellowed above the sound of the milling crowd. “If you saw what happened, please come forward.” Several people came forward and much animated discussion and gesticulating in the direction the thief had taken resulted. The female security officer appeared delegated to take care of the woman. She shepherded her through the crowd and away from the scene, while the other security guard and the two police officers galloped in pursuit of the track-suited bandit. A deafening babble broke out amongst the bystanders and some of the storekeepers. One of the storekeepers, a large woman with a mountain of startlingly red hair and a particularly loud voice, had plenty to say. “So, we have another bag snatch. Just one more to add to the tally for this month. So much for all of the uniforms stationed in this complex. What good are they? This has become a regular occurrence over the last few weeks, and what have they done about it? Nothing. Nothing, and so it continues week after week. It’s becoming so, nobody wants to shop here. And why would anyone blame them?” Another little grey-haired old lady quietly added her information. “My friend had her bag stolen a couple of weeks ago while she was here. Her car keys were in her bag, so they stole her car as well. The police found it several days later crashed and burnt out. She is now trying arguing with an aggressive insurance company that blames her for being careless with her keys. It’s not good enough. Why are they able to keep getting away with it?” Although the debate raged on for some time, shoppers with better things to do slowly drifted off and went about their business – while maintaining a firm grip on their bags. As she walked away from the group, one woman made a meaningful comment to her friend. “I have to admit, I don’t like those officers’ chances of catching the bloke. This place is like a rabbit warren. He would have been long gone with the bag by the time all the uniforms arrived on the scene. Still, I suppose they can’t be everywhere at once.” Her friend nodded sagely and agreed the officers were rendered useless by such a large complex. Their gloomy comments were not only wrong, but premature. Shoppers heading towards the doors to exit to the car park were startled by the sound of boots and shouts of move aside coming towards them. Without breaking stride, the officers wove their way through the shoppers and out the exit onto the wide concrete apron under the awning at the rear of the building. The shoppers stepped up their pace and followed the officers as far as the doors. Once outside, the officers stopped to scan the area for the thief. “There… along there!” one officer shouted, and the chase resumed. The officers raced after the dark figure sprinting away some distance ahead of them. “They’re gaining on him,” one of the shoppers brave enough to exit the building told the others who crowded around inside the doors. “They’re closing-in now,” her commentary continued. “It looks as though they might catch him this time.” “He’s heading for the carpark,” another woman announced. “If he crosses the road, they’ll lose him amongst all the cars.” Her gloomy forecast was wrong. With a quick glance over his shoulder, the figure in the black tracksuit raced out from under the awning and out onto the roadway leading into the carpark. “Look out!” One of the officers shouted, but he was too late. A huge black motorbike roared around the corner and barrelled into the thief as he was in full flight across the road. The bike rider, outfitted in matching black tracksuit and fancy trainers, was high-sided off the bike as he tried to avoid the collision. The officers rushed to the scene. Two people lay in crumpled heaps on the bitumen, and the crippled bike lay on its side dripping fuel onto its hot exhaust pipe. It sent the officers scrambling for fire extinguishers. At some point during the chase, the woman whose bag was stolen was escorted out of the building to wait for a taxi to take her home. With mouth hanging open in horror, she watched the drama unfolding a little further along the roadway. At the first sign of flames coming from the bike, she broke away from the security officer keeping her company and raced towards the scene of the accident. The female security officer screamed at her. …..“Come back. It’s dangerous. Don’t go near it. Come back here where it’s safe.” Her warning ignored, the victim raced towards the accident. The shouting made the other three officers dealing with the fire look up to see what was going on. They too cautioned the woman to stay back, warning it wasn’t safe to come near, but to no avail. There was only one thing on the woman’s mind. With an outstretched hand she indicated what she considered important amongst the carnage on the roadway. “MY BAG… please.” The End
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