Let's write a short story together

Calling your imagination

Hello folks,

Thank you to all of you who have subscribed, it means the world! And to those of you that haven’t yet, I hope I can persuade you with a bit of magic.

I have spent the best part of a decade in academia, studying and researching across three different universities, starting off at Queen’s University Belfast, then heading to Cambridge University, and finally finishing up at Bristol. I have always studied archaeology, with my most recent research delving more into history and literature. Throughout my whole academic life, I have been fascinated by stories and the way they are transmitted through time. Though my focus has always primarily been on the archaeology of magical women in the early medieval period, oral history and folklore have always been at the very heart of my work.

That is why I think stories are so important! They have been a part of human history for thousands of years and they are just as important today. The art of telling stories and handing down tales from one generation to another is a gift we need to keep giving. So, in saying that, I call upon you to help write a story with me!

I will post a section of a short story below, and I would love it if you could get your thinking caps on and tell me what you think should happen next. Pop your thoughts in a comment and I’ll pick the one that resonates with me most, and then I’ll write it! Then we can do the same process again for the next section until we have a completed short story together.

For what are stories if they are not shared?

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The Iron Keep (working title)

Jem stood at the castle gates, gazing up at the dark stone walls towering above him. Was he really going to do this? No one had entered the Iron Keep in centuries, for no one dared disturb the silent monks who lived inside. No one even knew if they really existed anymore. The Keep had been locked for as long as Jem had lived in the village of Garron and no one had seen a monk since his great grandfather’s time… and Jem’s great grandfather was really ancient. REALLY ancient. Jem couldn’t even begin to understand what the monks did in the Keep, let alone how they got food or water to survive. The monks were just ghost stories, designed to keep people like Jem away. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself. He never went back on a dare, especially not one given by Larch, the biggest and richest boy in the village and the biggest cretin Jem had ever met. Jem didn’t like bullies, but he also didn’t want to let Larch win, so here he stood, looking up at the intricately forged iron gates. He could feel the eyes of the village children, boring into his back. He didn’t turn round, for he knew Larch would be there and would tell everyone he was scared. Well, he was scared, but of what he didn’t really know. The monks intrigued him, if they really did exist, and if he saw one, or even met one, then that would be some story to tell. The Keep itself was beautiful, if imposing, and Jem had always daydreamed about it, though he’d never admit it. The Keep fascinated him. It always had, drawing Jem to the boundary of the property like a siren calling to a sailor. Maybe that was what he was feeling…not fear, but exhilaration. The inevitability of sneaking into the Iron Keep finally coming true made the hair on his arms stand on end. Weirdly, it felt right to be here.

The iron bars of the gate were thick and heavy but set wide enough apart that Jem could just about squeeze through. Though once he’d got his body and shoulders through, there was a moment that he thought his head was stuck and a wave of panic rushed over him, but a bit of wiggling got him through, and he popped into the grounds of the Iron Keep.

Everything changed.

Looking back through the gates, he expected to see the dirt track and the forest he had left behind, and the peering eyes of his friends and fellow village children. Instead, he saw only sky, as though he was standing atop a mountain, gazing out at the clouds that crested a lusciously green landscape. The warm sun glowed gold, the richness of sunset suddenly upon him, though he had stepped through the gates at high noon. Turning slowly on his heel, confused and in a state of disbelief, Jem looked towards the Iron Keep.

The forgotten dark stone had been transformed. Gone were the heavy buttresses laden with vines. Gone were the tall stone arches that housed thick black glass. Instead, Jem staggered backwards at what he saw. Before him was the most glorious castle he had ever seen. Manicured gardens sprawled in front of him, interspersed with tinkling fountains carved into all sorts of beasts and birds. The closest to him was a great sea dragon, water pouring out of its vast mouth and ringing like chimes into the pool of water as it broke through the mirror-smooth surface. Jem reached out to touch it but could have sworn it blinked as he got closer.

Shaking himself he moved towards the castle. Stained glass windows in deep jewel tones glittered in bright sandstone walls, illuminated by hundreds of candles within. Roses grew in heady blooms along trellises and Jem could smell the luxurious perfume even from where he stood. Silk banners of white and green billowed in the wind depicting a grand royal crest, gilded with Latin words Jem didn’t understand but knew to be important. He gaped at the sight before him. The layout was the same as the Iron Keep he knew so well, but this palace could not have been more different. And the sound! Silence was a thing of the past. Joyous shouts and laughter rippled on the breeze, and Jem could see dozens of people dressed in colourful clothes running and playing in the distance. He longed to join them for they seemed to be having so much fun. Instead, the harmonious chanting coming from the castle summoned him, and he moved as though someone else was controlling his feet. He drifted, pulled by the magic of the song, towards the main entrance, a grand wooden door carved with flowers and leaves of plants Jem didn’t recognise.

“WELCOME,” came a great booming voice as Jem stood at the entrance, wondering how best to knock on such a thick door.

“Hello?” asked Jem, for though the voice sounded close, he could see no one.

“Come in, we have been waiting for you….”

….

WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? YOU TELL ME!!

Olive xxxx