A Christmas Present

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Christmas Special!
A Christmas Present

by Angharad

Improved by Gabification

 

Copyright  © 2008 Angharad
FatherChristmasHead.jpg

 
Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf on Tuesday 12-14-2008 at 5:41 pm, this retro classic was pulled out of the closet, and re-presented for our newer readers. ~Sephrena
 
 
“And what would you like for Christmas?” the large jovial man asked the small boy.

“A doll.” The boy looked embarrassedly at his feet. He spoke quietly as if he was used to being laughed at.

“Yeah, bring him a dolly, Santa, then he might leave mine alone.” His angry sister–two whole years older–twisted the knife.

The elf–one of Santa’s little helpers–sniggered until Santa gave her a look that would freeze the antlers off a reindeer.

“If a doll is what you would like, then a doll you will get, provided you have been a good boy. If you haven’t, then I will know and Rudolph will avoid bringing me to your house.”

“Thank you, Santa,” said the boy, wiping his eyes. Maybe this time, because he came out and asked for it directly, he would get his wish and have his very own doll.

His mother shook her head as she took his hand and together with his sister, left the grotto and walked past the queue of other hopeful children. As they left, they accepted the small toy which another elf offered them, pink for girls, blue for boys. Only she, the elf had seen the episode in the grotto and gave the pink wrapped gift to the boy and the blue one to the girl.

He’d now have at least one doll, albeit a twenty pence one from some factory in China, which would fall apart if he played with it. But it was a doll. His sister had a compass and toy binoculars, which were equally robust, but might last until Boxing Day if they weren’t unwrapped until Christmas night.

“You and your bloody dolls,” hissed his mother, “I’ve a good mind to make you wear one of Jessica’s dresses on Christmas Day, let everyone know what a sissy you are.”

He hunched up more, tears dripping from his nose as they walked on.

“Fancy showing me up in front of all those people? You wait until we get home and I tell your father.”

George clutched hold of his present, tucking it inside his coat. He had no idea what it was, but it was the only good thing so far that Christmas. They caught the bus home and he was sent up to his room. He sat on his bed and read the book of magical stories, which was his favourite. He knew most of them by heart, he’d read them so often, but he loved the way the pictures and the words blended together and sent his imagination into overdrive. He would sit, day-dreaming that he was a girl called Georgina, and he’d wear dresses like his sister’s, only nicer. He’d have pretty shoes and could play with his dollies, which were his babies. He’d also help his mother about the house, unlike his sister, who preferred to be out with her friends, one friend in particular who had a pony. Jessica, would rather be down the stables mucking out than playing with stupid dolls, even though she had dozens of them.

Bernard Smith, Jessica and George’s father, was an accountant. He worked hard for a small firm in the nearby town. He hoped the old man would make him a partner one day, but so far it hadn’t happened. However, he was reasonably well paid, and the Smith family lived comfortably. Doreen, his wife, the mother of Jessica and George, worked in the local supermarket, in the office; she was a qualified book-keeper and looked after their accounts along with another woman, called Sally. They job shared, so they’d be home most evenings before the children.

Doreen had discussed George and his girlishness with Sally. Her advice was to humour it, “I’d prefer it to him asking for guns and knives, besides he’ll grow out of it, I expect. Unless of course you don’t indulge him and he can’t get it out of his system, then it could get worse.”

Doreen hadn’t thought of that; could it get worse? What should she do? On the last Saturday before Christmas, Bernard had intended taking the kids to see Santa, but had been called into the office for an urgent problem.

What he didn’t realise was he was going to be offered a partnership, so he was walking on air when he got home, helped by the two large sherries, old man Taylor had given him. He was therefore, annoyed when Doreen pricked his balloon as soon as he walked in.

“I got a partnership, love.” He smiled at his beloved.

“No wonder I can smell alcohol. Well I’m glad one of us had a nice day.”

“Why? What was wrong with yours?”

“That silly boy, he embarrassed me in front of all the people there.”

“What did he do?”

“He asked for a stupid doll, that’s what. I’ve got a jolly good mind to make him wear a dress for Christmas day.”

“If that’s what he wants, we’ll buy him a doll.”

“But the other kids will laugh at him.”

“That’s his problem, he must have thought about it, let him deal with it.”

“What are they going to say about us though?”

“Who cares, I’m a partner in an accountancy firm, let him have his dream, I’ve got mine.”

“Bernard, you really shouldn’t drink, you know.” She stepped backwards as he advanced upon her, bearing mistletoe. “Bernard, you really shouldn’t, ooh Bernard, maybe you should…”

George continued to help his mother around the house as they put up the decorations and the tree. He didn’t really feel very hopeful, but as they switched on the lights, he made a wish, that this year he’d get a doll. He made the same wish when they’d mixed the Christmas pudding last year, but so far it hadn’t happened.

At eight o clock on Christmas Eve, he was sent to bed, having left out the milk and mince pie for Santa Claus, by the fireplace. He’d hung his stocking on one side of the mantelpiece and Jessica put hers on the other end. His would be full of boy stuff and she would have everything he wanted. It wasn’t fair, but he’d come to expect it.

He tossed and turned hoping Santa could read his letter, begging for the doll. He knew it wouldn’t make any difference, it never would, he was doomed to be a boy. He cried himself to sleep, a not unusual occurrence.

deer Santa,
Pleese can you give me a doll this yeer. I am reelly a girl called Georgina, but everyone thincks I am a boy. It makes me verry sad and a doll wood help me feel beter. Love from Georgina. Xxxx

George awoke, it was still dark. He wondered if Santa had been, but he knew he’d get into trouble if he got up too early; besides, he knew it would be another disaster like last year when he cried at the presents he got. He’d rather stay in bed than go through that again.

He remembered the present he’d got from the Santa in the department store. It would be cheap and nasty, he knew that, but he could unwrap that without anyone hearing him. He’d pushed it behind some books on his bed side cabinet.

He leant over to get it and his pyjamas felt strange. He switched on his light and he wasn’t wearing pyjamas, he had on a nightdress with kittens and puppies. He nearly swooned with joy. How could it happen? He didn’t know, but he was delighted, maybe this would be a good Christmas after all?

He pulled out the toy and tore off the pink paper, it was a doll, a cheap and nasty one, but it was a doll and it was his–or should that be hers? He wept with delight. He’d checked between his legs–his dangly bits were still there–but just to be himself for one whole day, he’d cope with the rest of his life because he’d then know miracles could happen.

He called his doll, Mary, after the mother of Jesus, as he considered it an appropriate name for the time of year. He hugged her and promised he would look after her as best he could. He looked around the room, on the chair where he’d left his jeans and sweater, was something else. He got out of bed to explore. It was a pink and blue striped dress with black strap shoes, a pair of pink tights and a white vest and panties in matching embroidered material.

He was beginning to think he was dreaming and he pinched himself until it hurt. He wasn’t dreaming, in his bedroom was a dress and tights with real girl’s shoes. He wanted to dance around and laugh and dance some more. He hugged Mary again and then kissed her. His winceyette nightdress played about his legs, and he loved the feeling. He looked back and there was pair of pink slippers by the bed, his red ones with monster machines on them, had gone.

He ran and slipped them on, they had fur around the top like his sister’s ones. Once more he danced and skipped around the bedroom holding his doll. It was only six in the morning, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep any more, he had to be awake to savour the feeling he was a girl, if only for one day. He felt so happy, he just had to sit down and cry–it was the nicest feeling he’d ever had.

He snuggled back down in bed and cuddled with Mary, his new love, his doll.

At eight, his sister, knocked on his door and called him, “Come on, Georgina, Santa’s been.”

Did she just call him, Georgina? Maybe he was dreaming.

“Come on, girl,” called his dad. Was he talking to me? George asked himself.

He followed out in his new slippers and nightdress expecting them all to laugh at him. They didn’t, so he walked more confidently into the lounge to see his presents.

His stocking was the same as Jessica’s, some sweets, some bubble bath, a pair of pretty socks, some panties and a brush and comb set.

Jessica opened a small box and screamed. “Daddy’s bought me a pony,” she danced around the room and hugged everyone including her ‘sister’. “Georgie, I’ve got a pony, look here’s a photo of him.”

Georgina looked at the picture and hugged and kissed her sister.

“You’ll need to take great care of him and clean and feed him everyday.”

“I will, I will, I promise I will,” said Jessica practically walking on the ceiling she felt so high.

“Aren’t you going to open your presents, Georgina?” said George’s mum.

“Me?” said Georgina pointing to herself.

“Yes, you, girl,” replied her mum.

Soon she was squealing with delight as she found a doll plus several outfits, a buggy for her doll and what astonished her was a pair of boots in pink suede with sheepskin tops to them, plus a skirt and top and a cardigan all to match. Finally she opened the paper to find a coat with a hood surrounded in fake fur, one like her sister had.

She was so overcome, that she sat down hugging her two dolls and wept with happiness. “What’s the matter, Georgina?” asked her daddy.

“I am so happy, I hope today never ends, Daddy.”

“We didn’t realise you were so unhappy, Georgina, so as soon as Christmas is over, Mummy and I are going to take you to see a special doctor, to see if you can live as a girl all the time.”

“Oh, Daddy, that would be wonderful,” she squealed and hugged him tightly.

In his pocket he had the note she had written to Santa, and it had broken his heart to learn how much she had suffered. He’d shown it to Doreen and they had talked and cried and hugged each other. Then they decided to act. The doll and other girl’s toys had been bought, to indulge or swamp the boy’s unusual desires, all they needed to do was get a few things out of the cupboard that Jessica had never worn, there were plenty–and while he slept, strip off his pyjamas and slip on the nightdress.

Jessica was first up and they’d left her a note to come and see them before she woke George. She had done so and on the promise of a wonderful present, she promised to treat George as Georgina–her sister. For a pony, she’d have pretended he was their cat.

The Smith family moved to a larger house a year later, it was the other side of town where they still live with their two daughters. One is still crazy about horses even though she’s an A-level student. Her younger sister, has quite a collection of dolls, although at fifteen doesn’t play with them too often, but she is a good hockey and netball player, oh, and discovered boys weren’t all slugs and snails…

*****

Please note: There is no way this is going to be a serial or multipart story. This is it, finished, complete, in toto. No amount of whining, threats bribery or begging letters will induce another part.

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Comments

Sniff, sniff!

Tha was be-otiful, auntie angad!

KJT

"Being a girl is wonderful and to torture someone into that would be like the exact opposite of what it's like. I don’t know how anyone could act that way." College Girl - poetheather


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Well, it's your own fault

You write these nice humane warm stories which draw us in. And do it with such apparent ease. You can hardly blame us for liking -very much- what you write. Time and again.

But granted, this one is able to stand on it's own. No follow-up necessary, we can fill in the blanks. To our hearts content.
It was a nice short teary story, a lovely bit of fluff. It's almost a shame there isn't a contest at the moment to enter it into. Oh well.

Jo-Anne

Sniff Sniff Sniff!!!

Angharad: You are just totally Mean leaving us with are own ways to have find a ending to this!!!! Richard

PS: Just great story for Christmas Season to start or end the Year!

Richard

Yes, There Is A Santa Clause

At times, it takes a heartfelt letter to help Santa to shine through.
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Thanks Angharad

Sweet Christmas story. Enjoyed it.

Sometimes Santa listens

Hope Eternal Reigns's picture

Hi Angharad,

Thanks for posting this sweet tale.

with love,

Hope

with love,

Hope

Once in a while I bare my soul, more often my soles bear me.

Great stories stand on their own!

They don't need to have a never-ending series of sequels which dilute the first.

This is a nice little story, well-written, enjoyable with a happy ending. Just right for Christmas!

Christmas miracle

This sweet story is magical and wonderful, yet still set in a plausible reality.

I think Angharad is Suffering from

PTSD after the issue with the first few episodes of " Totally Insane" .

Anyway this is one of the sweetest holiday stories I read this year . Its really sweet and made me shed a tear several times, first from sadness and at the end from happiness.

Lily.

Oh ... Ang? That sounds like a challenge ...

I quote.

>>
No amount of whining, threats bribery or begging letters will induce another part.
>>

Oh Yeah?

You are in for a rude awakening. No one can whine better than a middle child.

Pulllllleease can I have an'uther chapter? PlLLLLLeeeeese?

-- Makes puppy dog/kitten in the rain eyes at mean authoress --

Whinnnnnne!

John in Wauwatosa

P.S. It will only get worse. Ask Karen about how I pester her about her Kari saga.

John in Wauwatosa

Whine whine whine

I would never whine at Ang. She's been keeping my [Reading Material] folder full of good stuff.

What I want to see is more Joanie.

Ray from the frozen north

I am gobsmacked

In light of new genetic research, this will be a reality for more and more of us.

G

Sooooo Delightful

This is such a delightful story, Ang., gentle sweet and empathetic. ’Er asleep upstairs (I hope!) adored it and she thinks it would make the perfect start for another brill Auntie Ang Serial. I did try to explain that you were a working lady with a job to do and that you weren't at the beck and call of young girls demanding more and more stories.

Hugs,

Hilary

Lovely Fairy Tale

joannebarbarella's picture

Thanks, Angharad,
Hugs,
Joanne

Please, Please, Please!

Please do NOT touch this story!

It's just perfect, just the way it is!

Wet-facedly yours,

Pippa
~~~~~

American or Brit

Funny, the picture looks more like an American Santa ? When are we gonna get a Father Christmas *pout* ?

;)

Kim

Angharad

Wonderful story. I would expect no less from you. you always come up with wonderful stories.

Merry Christmas to you dear, in case I don't get to chat with you before then.

Hugs
Joni W

This is a wonderfully fun..

story. I'm glad Georgiana found the courage to write that letter to Santa, and more, that her parents were the kind that could take it seriously, at least once they saw how she reacted.

I'm glad you won't be serializing THIS story. It stands nicely just by itself! Thank you!

Annette

i love it

oh how lovely this story is it made me cry for most of it and i had to go back and read it again just cause i thought it was that good, its a very well done christmas story and i loved it
well now i need to go and find some tissue and dry my eyes so byebye from sara

Surely..

..this version of Santa is at least one hundred years old, but English or American, Old World or New, the Santa in this story was truly on the ball.

And the parents! (True, Mom had to be brought along, but Dad was elated from the events in his own version of Christmas glee and was up to the task.)

And all your cute letters are going to be carefully stowed away with this lovely story. Maybe next winter holiday season we will witness a reappearance of this delight.

Happy Christmas to All! Leah

Merry Christmas

Anghard,
Excelent story. I really enjoyed it. Too bad mom and dad took so long to see the light.

The only addition this story could use, contrary to what some have suggest, or pleaded, is a small picture of santa in his sleigh and raindeer saying "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night."

Huggs & Giggles
Penny

Traditional Fairy Story Ending!

Perfect. And even had the "and they lived happily rever sfter" ending, even if not in those exact words.

Briar

Briar

Hi, Aunty Seasonal Greetings

Hi, Aunty Seasonal Greetings from Gabification land. Lord Brightflame and his sisters enjoyed your story.

Brightflame

SHARPHAWLAD (Sharp)

I think you will find…

…that Gabification refers to the fact that the story was edited by Gabi, who has been Angharad's regular editor for some time.

Hilary

Watch Out for the Grinch

Ahem! Some otherwise intelligent people have termed this story to be quite good. What is wrong with me?

So much of the story falls to tatters when you read "The Smith family moved to a larger house a year later, it was the other side of town where they still live with their two daughters. One is still crazy about horses even though she’s an A-level student. Her younger sister, has quite a collection of dolls, although at fifteen doesn’t play with them too often".

The idea of a twelve-year old boy writing a fervent letter to Santa is just too much. What boy (or girl) of twelve could be forced, even at gunpoint, to stand in line to tell Santa what he/she wants for Christmas.

The concept of the story is excellent and much of the storyline is perfect, as noted. However, the mechanics of the story are poor. The story should be told through the eyes of an eight-year old -- maybe nine, which pushes the edge of Santa belief. Ralphie is the perfect example of a boy just at the edge of Santa-time in A Christmas Story where the tension between too old to believe in Santa and too young to have a BB gun is played upon. George's POV should be respected so the reader can feel things unfold as the hero did. Those incidental details that can't be seen through his eyes can unfold in the readers' minds.

Better attention should have been paid to the timing of events throughout the story so that the reader isn't asking herself how that possibly could have happened. When was the letter to Santa written? When was it read by the parents? I found myself thinking the letter was read by the parents on Christmas Eve, and then wondering how they bought a doll, clothes, and a pony in that space of time.

To me the most improbable part of the story was the mother's actions. How (why) did Doreen make such an abrupt personality/opinion change? She threatens her child with public humiliation by dressing him for Christmas in his sisters clothing; she worries about people making fun of him for having a doll, and then . . . miracles of miracles -- she ostensibly allows him to subject himself to much greater criticism. Not believable as written. This, like everything else I see wrong with this story, could easily be fixed.

There are small mechanical things such as mixing one character's words with the thoughts of another character in the same paragraph.

I have said many times that votes mean nothing. I've also said that if you write a positive story with a young protagonist this site bends over backward to rave. This story and the readers' reactions to it, prove my point beyond a doubt.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Opinions, opinions

They're just like arseholes, everyone has one and they all stink.

Sometimes it's nice just to lose oneself in the improbable, the inconceivable.

However it began, ended or even the bits in the middle, the message is pure and simple--hope.

Although it may be just as Ang described--sugary sweet, sloppy, sentimental to the point of being tooth-rottingly nice, it's a story that is full of hope, fears and a happy ending.

Whether it's clinically sound in its mechanics or not does not detract from the fact that it has struck a nice nerve with people, including me.

I have been thinking a lot about the mechanics of stories and the fact is, that every author that's out there, breaks the rules and I can cite Dean Koontz and J K Rowling as two. They both alternate between "he said" and "said Jenny", the all use "..." and not ". . ." and they both use bad grammar when its appropriate.

Who can say what will be popular or why and when it comes at tugging at the heartstrings, who is anyone to say that something is right or wrong when it comes to hitting the spot. One can follow all the "rules" and still miss or one can break them all and still hit the target.

Ang hit the target.

Sorry, but I don't necessarily think that fixing what ain't broke makes something any better.

NB

Jessica
I don't just look it, I really AM that bad...

I accept the critcism

Angharad's picture

This was thrown together in about an hour or so - a bagatelle. It's unashamedly sentimental, maybe I was in that sort of mood when I wrote it. I had noticed the epilogue bit and the time thing, but by then I'd posted it.

Angharad

Angharad

Ang Hit the Target

Sure Nick, sure. We're back on the same old carousel. You didn't have to tell me my opinion stinks like asshole to try to make your point.

NOTHING posted to this site comes remotely close to a literary masterpiece that's beyond improvement.

Ang's piece is like most of what is posted here. From a content standpoint it is quite appealing, but its mechanics are only adequate.

Most every writer in the world will tell you Dean Koontz is a hack. JK "wouldn't've" been such a success if she wouldn't have had the courage to concoct contractions. (I have an eighteen-year old daughter who read every Harry Potter book in one sitting -- including that mammoth one.)

You don't finding yourelf asking a lot of questions after you read one of her books, as I did after reading this short piece. For example, what was the point of giving the girl a blue present? Or, for that matter, why did the author include the little pink doll when the parents were going to give him a doll by the end of the story?

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

I apologise to every outraged reader.

Angharad's picture

The object of the pink and blue presents were obvious. That they were reversed showed an element of perverseness in the 'elf' who gave them to the siblings. In describing what was in the sister's present as boy toys, it showed what would have been normally given to George.

Why did I give him the first doll when his parents were going to give him one anyway? It was the easiest way to show that not everyone is fixed in stereotypes, the 'elf' who gave the presents showed this, and why shouldn't the child have two dolls? It enabled the first rapture for her, because she still didn't know what was happening - was it magic? No just the parents becoming human.

I could have done lots of things with the story, and on reflection, yes could have constructed a better one. I didn't and apologise to the readers for writing a badly constructed story.

Angharad

Angharad

Perhaps

You could have written a more technical correct story, but it was this one that tugged on my and others heartstrings. I think most of the comments support my statement. This is good just as it is written and I thank you for sharing with us.

Hugs and Happy Holidays to you!

grover

I Had Thought You Were Showing Us How Roles Can Be Reversed

Please re-read my remarks. There was much about this story I loved. I especially loved the part under the mistletoe, which spoke volumes about the love in their home.

There are lots and lots of people who think Capra's "It's a Wonderful Life" is a highly flawed film. Yet, millions of people love it, including me. I cried at its ending again -- yesterday. Like Nick said, if the story successfully tugs at your heart it is successful.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

No Outrage

RAMI

No Need to appologize at all. When I read this I saw some of the things people complained about, but who cares. This is a short piece of pure fluff, a quit feel good story, like cotton candy at the circus.

Enjoy it.

Worry about the details in a longer more complicated story.

RAMI

RAMI

Running the risk

Of falling foul of Erin and upsetting people, I would just like to point out that if as you say, Dean Koontz is a hack, then surely he would fail to hit the best seller lists as often as he does. If I or anyone else here could 'hack' their way through stories and earn the money that he does in the process, we would be happy and very grateful indeed.

How you can be so dismissive of his work and wrap it up in such a sweeping statement as "Most every writer in the world will tell you Dean Koontz is a hack" is beyond me. I would like to call myself a writer -- however amateur I may be and from my point of view, anyone who can earn a living at it and hit the best seller lists on such a regular basis, deserves respect, not ridicule.

You are by no means qualified to make such a statement, regardless of its alleged origins.

As far as your assessment of Harry Potter is concerned, I think I can speak for many if not all of the Brits here and say that contrary to what you or any of your country-folk think, J.K. Rowling writes the way we speak. Her contractions are actually those in common use in this country -- it is in fact, plain English; the English of the common man -- exactly as intended.

We may speak versions of the same language, Jill, but we are miles apart in reality and should not have to justify the way we speak or write to any American -- ever.

It's true that the vast majority of stories submitted to this site have flaws, are written to appeal to a particular genre or even clique, but a) it's what's popular here and b)we are as I recall having said before, amateurs. If Ang's story panders to those who wish to read about someone -- even if fictitious -- who is aided through a potentially traumatic transition by those who love them, then so what?

It's not that I think critique is wrong, it's just that you have a somewhat abrasive way of providing it. You like to do it publicly and I feel that regardless of whether you're right or wrong, there are nicer ways to say what you said, less public ways to go about things.

There is a post at the top of the main page of this site I would like to draw your attention to: "Think before you post". A PM would have been a much more sensible method of conveying your thoughts, which judging by the responses since your comment would lead me to believe that you are in the minority in a number of the points you raised.

We are at this site, blessed with a number of authors who may never be included in best seller lists or even make a living at their craft, but they enjoy what they're doing and others enjoy it too. Please don't scare them off with critiques that upset and dishearten when done so publicly. Consider first how you would feel and bear in mind that the skins of some of the authors here is not armour plating.

Why have I done this publicly and not in a PM?

Simply because I feel that if you can justify yourself publicly -- as you appear to be attempting above -- then I can debate to the contrary -- just as publicly. Fair's fair after all.

Nuff said.

Jessica

When Did Writing A Bestseller Mean You're Not a Hack

All critique is abrasive, my dear Nick, almost as abrasive as telling someone their opinion stinks like asshole.

Angharad has posted nearly every day for well over a year and has a huge following. Suggesting that one negative statement will cause flight amidst a sea of congratulations, is absurd. Angharad is obviously addicted to BC.

The critique you find so appalling states "The concept of the story is excellent and much of the storyline is perfect." Is that abrasive and dismissive?

You've mischaracterized my remarks concerning Rowlings. In fact, I used the word "couldn't've" in the last story I wrote -- because it is commonly used in the U.S. as well. Such a contraction is fine in dialogue, but is not okay in narrative. It is no different than coulda, woulda, shoulda. Why the chip on your shoulder against the U.S.?

I have many times advocated the use of PM's for anything negative. In this case I made a judgment that no harm could come of a criticism weighed against what so many see as a wonderful story.

You have tried to make a case against me for having assaulted Angharad for writing a sweet, innocent, love-based story. Please show evidence to back up your assertion, as this certainly wasn't my intent. I have posted a few stories on BC based on love conquering all and find it a satisfactory theme. You might remember one of the best love-based stories on this site -- "Mister" by Dimelza, that I had a huge hand in bringing to fruition.

I have sent such critiques privately, but your statement that I "like to do this publicly" is without a factual base.

Angharad wrote this piece in a short amount of time. Maybe more effort was needed?

"I write one page at a time, revising and polishing it until I can't make it better. That can mean 20, 30, or even more drafts. Then I move on to the next page. Slowly, I work my way through the book. At the end of each chapter, I do a printout, which I pencil because I see possibilities for improvements on the printed page that I am not able to see on the screen. After three or four pencilings, I move on to the next chapter. When I reach the end of the novel, it is done-except for whatever editorial notes inspire me to make changes. Those usually take a couple of days."

Does that process seem strange to you?

By the way, Dean Koontz backed two conservative Republicans in the last presidential campaign: Fred Thompson and Mitt Romney. As a Tennessee senator, Thompson voted against legislation to prohibit job discrimination based on sexual orientation. Romney tapped dance his way through the campaign, trying to defend his actions as Mass. governor and a letter he wrote in 1994 to Log Cabin Reps. that angered the right.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Well,said, Geoff

As Holly Logan, I edit for authors here from many countries.
While I have learned a lot over the past 16 years about the way "English, the common language that divides us" is spoken in many different countries, I am still learning, and expect I will continue to do so.
I quickly learned in working with writers in areas other than California, that I had to begin to learn their version of English. While I may try to point out what I think of as standard English, I will alwys bow to my writer's ideas if there is a conflict. I've told most of not all of the authors I work with: "This is YOUR story, You do not have to accept any changes I've made in it."
That holds true for their spelling and usage of English as well as for plot 'suggestions'.

English is so rich, because it is constantly evolving, adding new words though invention or acquisition from other languages, and dropping other words from common usage, though they continue to be used.
Even though I considered myself petty good with English, when I began to mentor others in writing I was amazed at how many different versions of English there were in even such a small area as the British Isles. That was, UNTIL I realized that the US did not have nearly as much time to diversify before print and electronic media came into existence.
'English' in England was around for many centuries when the speed of communication was limited at best, to the speed a horse could travel, and for most people, by the speed a person could travel on foot.
Until the printing press, written communication was pretty much limited to the churches, and upper class, who could afford hand copied books.
Dictionaries to standardize spellings were an even later invention, while attempts to standardize pronunciation came still later.

According to my course in English Literature, way back in the dark ages of the 1960s, Robert Cawdrey's 'A Table Alphabeticall', (Note the spelling of alphabetical), is generally regarded to be the first dictionary “in English*”, but it was not published until in 1604, and even then, it took a long time to gain acceptance, and even longer for it and other dictionaries to begin to approach standardization.
* There may have already been dictionaries in other languages, but none I can document. I did find Cawdrey mentioned several places online.
•
The OED ( Oxford English Dictionary ) didn't come about until "... the Philological Society of London decided, in 1857, that existing English language dictionaries were incomplete and deficient, and called for a complete re-examination of the language from Anglo-Saxon times onward ..." ( http://dictionary.oed.com/about/history.html
The OED has continually been updated, and includes many usages found mainly in 'the colonies', ( at least one time colonies ), where the language has diversified well beyond the diversification in even just its home, England.

Anyone making flat definitive statements about the 'English' language, needs to keep all of this in mind. England can no longer claim to set the rules for its usage, because it was the English who exported it to the world, but in a significantly different version than now used in most places including England.
Anyone reading Shakespeare in the original, ( including spelling ), will quickly recognize that fact, and Shakespeare wrote well after English began its march around the world.

However, I for one, though I've spent less than a week, in England in my life, am very happy to be ABLE to use it, though I live 5,000 miles away form England.

It’s not given to anyone to have no regrets; only to decide, through the choices we make, which regrets we’ll have,
David Weber – In Fury Born

Holly

It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.

Holly

Huh?

Me? I ain't said nowt - on this subject, at least :) Perhaps you mean that other English guy, Nick. I stand on the side-lines here as I regard both Angharad and Angela as amongst my friends here.

One thing I will say is that successful publication doesn't mean you're not a hack. Barbara Cartland was a skilful writer who knew her audience well and sold staggering numbers of very mediocre novels which will probably rapidly fade from memory. My wife's aunt, who wrote mystery novels, shared an agent with Cartland and admired her skill greatly. Even Arnold Bennett, a writer I greatly admire, wrote a few rubbish pot-boilers.

I've only read a short extract of Dan Brown's best seller 'The Da Vinci Code' and it persuaded me not to bother reading the whole thing it was so poor ... IMO of course, which isn't worth a lot.

Geoff

Quite a Lengthy Response, Holly

Was all that needed to refute a simple statement that Rowling uses non-standard contractions in her narrative. I wasn't objecting to Rowling. Who do you think bought all those Rowling books for my daughter? I also read them all and enjoyed them.

You do agree that standard usage words should be used in narrative, with rare exception, don't you?

My daughter, at 18, is just coming out of the worst of the mean girl years. Through necessity I've become quite well-read on the dynamics of cliques. Nick said a mouthful when he included that word in his response.

By the way Nick -- the next time you want help with your writing be sure to contact me. You have a unique way of showing your gratitude for the several dozen hours I apparently wasted in a "somewhat abrasive" way.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Standard Usage?.

"You do agree that standard usage words should be used in narrative, with rare exception, don't you?"

I had never even thought about it before. But my first reaction is 'No'. Although I am not sure what Standard Usage means. I would've thought that words became standard usage if used enough times. Therefore if any new word or abbreviation is used enough it becomes standard. If you can't use anything new you moth ball the language.

Fleurie Fleurie

Fleurie

I Think...

...and I read, but I don't write stories, so the following probably needs a degree of discounting.

"Standard Usage" is the grammar they tried to teach us in school. It's not necessarily the way real people speak or write, but it's a general consensus amongst educators that that's how they SHOULD speak or write. Journalists, columnists and others who write alleged non-fiction are often handed a "style-guide" to follow when writing for said publication. Style Guides vary a bit, thereby proving there is no one "correct" way to deploy the language into print.

A number of famous authors of fiction stepped far outside the realm of standard usage, not through slovenliness, but brazenly and purposely to impart a "voice" to their narrator. Mark Twain pops into mind. Shakespeare, too, for that matter. "Standard Usage" doesn't include speaking in couplets. I'm sure someone of a more literary bent could find dozens of even better examples.

Yes, I meant Nick & dictionaries

Not sure how I got from Nick to you, Geoff.

I guess it depends on what you call a dictionary?

From Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dictionary ( The History section )
"The first purely English alphabetical dictionary was A Table Alphabeticall, written by English schoolteacher Robert Cawdrey in 1604. Conversely, it is eight hundred years after the first Arabic, and almost one-thousand years after the first Sanskrit in India. The only surviving copy is found at the Bodleian Library in Oxford. Yet this early effort, as well as the many imitators which followed it, was seen as unreliable and nowhere near definitive. Philip Stanhope, 4th Earl of Chesterfield was still lamenting in 1754, 150 years after Cawdrey's publication, that it is "a sort of disgrace to our nation, that hitherto we have had no . . . standard of our language; our dictionaries at present being more properly what our neighbors the Dutch and the Germans call theirs, word-books, than dictionaries in the superior sense of that title." [6] It wasn't until Samuel Johnson's A Dictionary of the English Language (1755) that a truly noteworthy, reliable English Dictionary was deemed to have been produced, and the fact that today many people still mistakenly believe Johnson to have written the first English Dictionary is a testament to this legacy[7]. By this stage, dictionaries had evolved to contain textual references for most words, and were arranged alphabetically, rather than by topic (a previously popular form of arrangement, which meant all animals would be grouped together etc.). Johnson's masterwork could be judged as the first to bring all these elements together, creating the first 'modern' dictionary[7]."

Note, that the "The only surviving copy ( of Cawdrey's book ) is found at the Bodleian Library in Oxford." I originally got my information about Cawdrey on dictionary history in an email directly from an Oxford English Professor I worked with well over 10 years ago, so his definition of dictionary might have been so loose as to let it precede Johnson's work, which Wikipedia calls "the first modern dictionary."

It’s not given to anyone to have no regrets; only to decide, through the choices we make, which regrets we’ll have,
David Weber – In Fury Born

Holly

It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.

Holly

Hands-On

I've actually had my hands on an early-ish edition of Johnson's dictionary, in the original binding. A dear friend of my wife's, who grew up in a 15th century farmhouse in England, owns it. I seem to recall it being from the late 18th century, perhaps the 1780s or '90s. As you may know, Johnson's dictionary wasn't written all at once, and the first edition was expanded a few times.

Dr. Johnson's dictionary is as notable for its occasionally dry, wicked humor as it is for its referential quality. Here, he apparently expresses his allegedly low opinion of the Scots:

oats: 'a grain, which in England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland supports the people.'

In researching the quote, I found a picture of the page it resides on. It's interesting for a number of reasons, including the use of the 18th century alphabet and typographic standards. http://www.bl.uk/learning/images/texts/dict/large1395.html

The First English Dicker…

Holly, The First English-published Dictionary was that of Dr Samuel Johnson (who began his literary career as a Grub Street hack) in 1755. It preceded the OED by 150 years, and it has been said that, [Quote] ‘It had a far-reaching impact on Modern English and has been described as “one of the greatest single achievements of scholarship”.’

Dr_J_s_House.jpgJohnson_Dicker.jpg

Above left: Dr Johnson's House in Gough Square, just behind Fleet Street (where I worked as a hack on the Daily Telegraph in the 1960s). Above right: The title page of Johnson's Dictionary. Below left: The great man; Dr Johnson's portrait painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds. Below right: An engraving depicting “Grub Street”, the haunt of sundry disreputable hacks.

Samuel_Johnson_by_Joshua_Reynolds.jpgGrubStreet-London.jpg

Just a bit of background.

For fuller details see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_Johnson

Gabi

Gabi.


“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

Jesse Louise, he looks like ...

J.S. Bach having a bad attack of intestinal gas.

I prefer Dr Johnson as portrayed in Black Adder III. You do know *Johnson* is a slang term for a male's um, thingy, his ah, you know, in the US. I just realised ther is a *dic* in dictonary -- snicker -- Plus would you trust a fat, dyspeptic man in a ridiculous wig to be an expert on language or anything?

John in Wauwatosa

whose 13 year old potty mouthed male muse will get a lecture tonight. As to my female muses, they are laughing their heads off and planing a sleepover or is it an orgy. They love teasing the 13 year old boy muse, he's so easy to wind up ... and kinda cute but don't tell him.

John in Wauwatosa

Time compression

erin's picture

In the quote above, I don't see anywhere in the story where it says how much time passed between the first and second sentence. Personally, I assumed six or eight years happened since the younger child is obviously about seven at the beginning. Since she's fifteen at the end there must have been an unremarked passage of time. The repetition of still in the second and third sentences reinforces my belief that a considerable amount of time has been compressed.

I've reread it three times and I just don't see a time problem. Perhaps the compression should have been more firmly noted but I did not feel at all confused by the wording as is.

Yes, there are some minor mechanical and stylistic problems that might have to be fixed in a paid venue but that time compression, to my mind, is not one of them -- it's part of the fairy-tale-ending flavor.

Votes and reads do mean something. They mean that someone has told a story that touched someone else at least in some small part. They may not be an absolute measure of this quality because so many other factors are also influential, including timing and reputation of the author. But they are there like the applause at the end of a piece of music.

Hugs,
Erin

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

Time Compression?

Nope.
Neither did I. Both sentences were separated by the requisit full stop so where's the chronological confusion?

Beverly.

Growing old disgracefully.

bev_1.jpg

Next Time Have Your Doll with You When You Read

When you read a story about Santa Claus you have already thrown logic out the door. This was a warm and interesting tale of a child wanting something. A little girl in a boys body. I didn't read the age of the boy anywhere. But even if age were mentioned it was a youth holding on to her childhood until she could get the Christmas present she wanted. As for the reaction of the mother it was her duty to straiten her son out. Her son wants things usually given to girls. It must have caused her pain to come across as mean to her son but that was her job. Mothers, define manhood, telling us how a man should act, "boys don't cry" or "your a man your supposed to," we are bombarded by this on a regular basis. The mother was just making sure her boy was properly directed, however, when the man of the house came into the conversation his word was final. At least that's what my mother told me. So the mother now has to support the boys need to be a girl.

Excellent story.

Okay Kaptin

A story establishes a world. That world has rules. If the author wants the world in the story to be one where the woman is totally subservient to the man of the house, that's great, but then the author can't have the wife carp about the smell of liquor on his breath thereby "pricking his balloon". That kind of behavior doesn't jive with the huge character change needed to go from someone who's day was ruined by a boy who asks for a doll to a mother who's 100% behind a sex change for that son.

I can agree that the story might be interpreted that the boy was around seven, but does that jive with their conclusion that a physician would support the change of sex decision? Could a seven-year old write that note? To me it sounds more like a nine or ten-year old wrote the note.

You're right that it is an excellent story, but you're wrong about throwing out logic. Without logic what enjoyment is there?

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Better Late than Never...

RobertaME's picture

I know that it's been almost a full decade since this topic was hashed out, but now is when I read it and so now is when I can respond.

The attitude I see expressed here is not unlike the attitude I've often seen in Linux forums from Windows and Mac users trying to make the switch to Linux. They're all used to dealing with their OS having been written by giant megacorporations with thousands of developers, millions of dollars to spend on development, and a 'customer oriented' business approach... and Linux is none of those things. It's not even written by businesses, it's written mostly by geeks like myself that do it for ourselves and share the work afterwords. When a Linux distro comes out it's almost always what that particular author wanted their OS to be like, and if it happens to also suit someone else's needs then it's a happy circumstance... not by design. For the person wanting to use another person's distro, for which they paid nothing, to critique the distro for not being what they wanted or state that the author is a 'hack' for using a style they disapprove of (as though the author was in some way duty-bound to 'fix' it) is not only rude but arrogant and disrespectful. The general response to that sort of attitude in Linux forums is, "Well then, if I were you, I'd ask for my money back!"

Stories here are free, sorted by content, and written by amateurs. If one does not like the content, a simple one-line statement of dissatisfaction is more than enough. To argue the point is missing the purpose of this place entirely.

As for "Without logic what enjoyment is there?", a great many things in this world are enjoyable and completely illogical. Sex is messy, time-consuming, and potentially hazardous to one's health... all-in-all a very illogical thing to do for any purpose other than procreation. It's also arguably the most enjoyable thing there is in life. In point of fact, the majority of the most enjoyable things in life are not logical. Secondly, I see no disparity between the protagonist's belief in Santa and them being eleven to thirteen. I'm not ashamed to admit that I myself believed in Santa until the age of twelve... and I have an IQ over 150. (I just started looking for ways he could get the job done in ways that defied our understanding) I quite probably could have continued to believe well into my late teens were it not due to it being spoiled for me by my stepfather. Since your premise is that it's improbable that a girl that age could still believe in Santa, I am living proof that it's not only probable but quite possibly common. (I don't consider myself as very special in any way)

Finally, as for the mother's heel-face turn on her daughter's gender, the idea is such a common thread in storytelling that it has its own Trope. The heel-face turn is used to redeem a character that up to that point in the story has been an antagonist with their heart in the right place. They're just misguided. Then something changes to reveal their antagonism to be unjust, allowing the character to realize their mistakes, repent, grow as a person, and try to change their motives and actions accordingly... thus the mother's crying after having realized how badly she'd hurt her daughter through ignorance and 'the best of intentions.' (which we all know where that leads) I find it totally believable.

In the future, try to remember that these stories are free, written by ametures, and likely had specific ideas in mind that they wanted to express when they wrote it. If you don't enjoy it, don't sit and argue with people about how wrong they are to enjoy it... just state your opinion politely and move on. Also remember that just because something is improbable doesn't make it impossible.

YMMV.

Passing over the debate...

... because, to be honest, almost all of it goes way over my head. Instead I'll just say thank you for sharing such a sweet, heartwarming story. :)

Wonderfully Sweet

terrynaut's picture

This wasn't corny or sickly sweet at all. Silly Angharad. :)

I knew the letter would come in to play. Why else show it? I'm just so glad it was taken so well by the parents. *sigh*

The sister was a bit pony obsessed but I bet she'd come to like having a younger sister. :)

Thanks very much for the story. It makes a wonderfully sweet early Christmas pressie.

- Terry

Angharad

What a sweet story.
Thank you so very much.

I needed that.

Sarah Lynn

I know this retro is way early - BUT

Its so good of a story I just had to post it now ^^ Besides Angharad is overdue for one anyways ^^

*hugs*

Sephrena

I never read this story

I never read this story before, and was truly moved by it. It ended with a feeling, at least to me, how Dickens stated at the end of "A Christmas Carol" that Scrooge kept Christmas in his heart year around. I had that same feeling that this was how the family in this story kept their lives with their "new" daughter as she grew, and with the older daughter who learned to love her little sister. Thank you Angharad for your charming little "pre-Christmas season" rememberance. Jan

Lovely story.

Hi Angharad.
Hope everything is okay at home.
Your story brought a tiny tear to my eye and I fantasised how it might be or more properly should be for the parent of a transgendered child on learning of the childs needs and wants.

What joy it is to fill a wish.
Garnish one's own and and wishers dish.
Bring answer to a childhood prayer.
And show your child your really care.

~o~O~o~

Is that how it should be between child and parent?

OXOXOX

Beverly.

Love and hugs

P.S. I don't usually do poetry cos I'm piss-poor at it but this story moved me.

Bev.

bev_1.jpg

Great re-read!

Call me a nutter - this is the third time I've read this tale over the past year and a bit, and it's still brilliant (I can't believe I didn't scribble some random comment after reading it the first or second times!). It's practically the definition of the sweet/sentimental tag! Who cares if it was only "thrown together" in about an hour or so? After all, that's how pretty much every "Bike" episode is constructed, and that's picked up a respectable following...

Oh, and the "no way" disclaimer at the bottom is also a pretty darn good indicator it's a good story, if oodles of people tried (unsuccessfully) to persuade Angharad to write a sequel - they wouldn't have done that if they didn't like it!

 

Bike Resources

There are 10 kinds of people in the world - those who understand binary and those who don't...

As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!

My Comments Stand

This is a good story, but the mechanics are lacking.

At one point in the story the first word in the sentence is "he" in nearly every sentence -- twenty-some times in a row with rare exception.

Before anyone tells me there's no scholarly rule about repetition, let me state that it comes under the general heading of, "Thou shalt not be tedious."

This a a sweet little story that begs to be loved. As such it works. Given the popularity of the author it's a bit like a cloying Christmas remake -- like the one parodied in the movie "Love Actually".

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Good to see

tha you didn't resort to magic to resolve the dilemma of Georgie's needs. Oh, if only all parents could be so accepting of GID children.

Susie

I am not interested

ALISON

'in arty-farty debate! I just enjoyed reading Anga's story again.Thank you for making me feel good.

ALISON

Thank you again...

If I can manage to see the screen as I type.

I'm so glad I read the story again. Thank you so much for writing it. You're right that it's done where it is. There's no need to take THIS story any further. Thank you!

Re-reading my original response, I think it's good. This short fun peace was a pleasure for me to read. The emotions expressed (and evoked) felt honest and the scene was very hopeful. I just skimmed back over the discussion on whether it's great literature or not... To be honest, I don't care, this time. It touched me, at a time I needed a touch.

Thanks,
Anne

What's all the criticism?

After reading this story and shedding many tears I started to read the responses and they left me feeling defiled.

While I read I remembered all the Christmases I sat in the corner and felt so totally left out and so totally alone. I never got the gifts I wanted. Like Georgina, I wanted dolls and dresses and girly things. I never got any. I too cried myself to sleep a thousand nights and dreamed of a magical world that never materialized. This story left me so choked up, my throat still hurts.

As I read the responses to the story I saw a lot of hard hearts who had no feeling for what George suffered. Although my childhood was 60 years ago and some people now are more understanding, there are still thousands of children suffering hurt and humiliation from the ones who are supposed to love them.

People, stop being critical about style and form and read the story for its content. This is a story that should have torn your heart out and made you shed lots of tears.

Larissajo

easterbunny2.jpg Larissajo

Whining and Sniffling,

Belatedly,

Ah, gee shucks, Pretty Pleases, Can't YOU, Won't YOU.

Like,

This could really use a follow-up.

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Love,

Olivea

This is a feel good story...

...but please do something about his/her name. Georgina sounds so contrived.

HO,HO,HO

Sounds like a Disney story.

Cefin

Surely only Angharad…

Rhona McCloud's picture

… could provoke 64 = 2⁶ comments on a Christmas short story. Whoops 2⁶ + 1 comments now.

And as a New Year's resolution I promise not to call you Shirley again

Rhona McCloud

Challenge

Teek's picture

This was a really cute story. Perfect little Christmas tale.

Now, onto your statement, "Please note: There is no way this is going to be a serial or multipart story. This is it, finished, complete, in toto. No amount of whining, threats bribery or begging letters will induce another part."

What if I wrote a letter to Santa?

Sorry, I couldn't resist. Normally I never ask for a continuation, but you put the challenge out there for all to take up. lol

Keep Smiling, Keep Writing
Teek