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Create a baddie for children's book week
Hello everyone,
anyone doing anything exciting for Children's Book Week this week? Hopefully you are now...
After our enjoyable grisly murder thread a few months ago, we're more than overdue for a fun little writing game (I've been neglecting you, sorry!)
So, who can come up with the perfect kids' book baddie? Write a brief character description, 100-words give or take, by Monday 10 October, and we'll pick our favourite and ask (but not force) the winner to write a story which we can feature on the website.
Have fun!
Comments
When children talk and make plans for very important events, holidays, birthdays, and Christmas. I like to think they have wonderful dreams of the event to come. Then in comes The Dream Bandit, and steals the wonderfull dreams for it's self, will the Bandit realise how sad it is making the children?. The children will want to know who and what is the Bandit and why it steals their dreams.
Mr Blossom strode into the school playground. His long black coat flowing out behind. The look on his wolverine face was one of immense pleasure as he smelt the fear created just by his presence. His long nose twitched in anticipation of what the next full moon might bring. His eyes were sharp, his hearing even sharper, he could hear the whispers long after he had passed by. He smiled to himself. Yes, they would be wise to be afraid of him. They were the monsters not him, these children always interrupting his lessons, some braver than the others, sniggering when they thought he could not see them. He had plans for them all though.
My attempt:
**
I hate you, Mum! I wish you were dead.
It's not fair, I wish I was a grown up
These angry words bring joy to his sticky-out ears. It's the only time he smiles, showing his yellow teeth.
Mr Strengar lives in that house. The one with the long grass and the paint peeling from the windows frames. The one you have to pass on the way home from school.
Alone.
Mr Strengar makes wishes come true. Not in the Fairy Godmother flouncy way. There's no fairy dust here.
Mr Strengar makes children disappear.
Garth Black's evil.
I blame the parents.
I had Roald Dahl classics in my head when I was thinking up the theme, but interpret the theme any way you see fit.
Some great ones here already, come on everybody, let's have some more!
Your Uncle is the only one who seems to understand. He gives you a torch for your birthday. When you switch it on you can't see what The Shadow does - is that a good, or a bad thing?
But he was no longer content with stealing parts to make his creations. He wanted living dolls and the only way to build them was to empty the sickbeds of the living children. The ones nobody cared for or wanted. The Complete Children.
Cmere runt! Vivian Postlewine marshalled another first year pupil from Midway Secondary Schools playground. Pimple nose fought to outshine weeping pustules, as tyrants face blotted daylight from its cornered target.
Wary of being spattered; by erupting puss or spittle oiled discordant voice, set Tommy Greens body trembling. True fear, however, was caused by the reddened pig eyes, bulging with malice, making him feel as though a venomous snake was about to devour his life.
On yer knees, head under my skirt. The third year student glowered. Now!
She sits at her desk in a dark room. She clicks down the point of her pen. Then she writes about you!
And when you start barking uncontrollably, or leaking snot like a tap, you know she has made you the victim of her latest fairytale. So dont look inside strange windows, in case you catch you catch her eyes. Because Inkers stories never have happy endings!
Your new one is very Gaiman like. Deliciously creepy.
Each child that was brought into the studio would be painted with great accuracy, The Artist capturing the true nature and soul of the child with each painterly stroke of the brush.
Have you ever seen one of those paintings where the eyes seem to follow you- well you never know who or what is behind those layers of paint.
She lazily pushed herself off a wall and maintained her usual slow, menacing pace on the opposite side of the street; one stride to every three of mine. I kept her in my peripheral vision but didn't dare make eye contact. Dorzal was always there, always shadowing me. I suspected she had bat sonar. There was no escaping her.
Whenever a child wanders nearby she says, Quack, quack, and throws bread to the ducks.
She knows the curious child will draw closer and she smiles her roly-poly smile. She offers bread for the child to throw.
Say quack, quack to the ducks, she suggests.
The curious child will take her bread and throw it in the lake, obediently saying quack, quack.
The curious child finds itself swimming in the lake and it can only say quack, quack now.
The sweet old Duck Lady eats confit of duck every Sunday, her webbed feet tucked cosily into her special wide-fit slippers.
The Slitherer is able to slip through the smallest crack, under doors and down plugholes yet is immensely strong for his size allowing him to lift flowerpots to creep beneath or turn the locks in doors to allow him entrance.
Visible only to those with the sharp eyesight of childhood, he is responsible for all those items that go missing at vital moments hairbrushes, homework or handkerchiefs for example. He does not take these to use indeed his finds are often returned to whence they came once the emergency has passed but he loves to create mischief in an ordered home.
From the depths he comes. Thick drool drips from his fetid teeth, the rot of a thousand years hangs in his breath, the thin steel eyes pearce the mist of time as his form folds out of the darkness. He raises his huge hound like head up towards the lit bedroom window. He draws back the corners of his mouth into something that passes as a smile. As the light goes out in Dan Wards bedroom, 'it's time' he thought.
Last day now... get your last minute entries in now.
But we have to have a winner... or two.
So I'm plumping for Phot's Moll's Shadow and Rainbow Lou's Inker. Well done both of you. Would you both like to write a full story (or extract) to appear on here? And thanks everybody else for your entries.
Have to agree they were all good, Webbo.
I enjoyed coming up with something for this thread - I think I will carry it on into a story too.
I agree with Lou it was fun coming up with ideas and there could be lots of story`s to get out of them for the authors.
Anticipating an intriguing read, good for you two.