To Those Who Would Cry Havoc

The cream always rises to the top

Steady on lads.

We all know what happens in this game of thrones. The ladies are far too clever to get caught up in all the ball roasting. We win the day with cunning instead.

Well, alright, usually we win with poison, but I don’t think the great and unassailable Dr Mehmet Yildiz would approve of such time-honoured traditions.

So, I’ll agree to fair play and won’t hold your chestnuts to the fire. Or slip anything into your goblet.

That is fair, isn’t it?

For anyone randomly tagged here who has no idea what I’m on about, it started with Charles Roast. He likes to start things. Time will tell if he’s any good at finishing them.

Then the eminence grise Rasheed Hooda fanned the tournament fires and let slip the dogs of war.

Truly, it should be age before beauty. But as The Roaster hides behind a mask we cannot judge on either score.

He could be Methuselah or Helen of Troy for all I know.

Sir Timothy Key weighed in on the challenge and that’s where it all got fiery. Here be unicorns.

For the archives, lads, enough with this kingly nonsense. The peasants are revolting and someone imported this thing called meritocracy.

Always begin at the beginning.

Unless you’re a fiction writer and then you start in media res — like I did, straight into the meat of things- and feed your backstory in slowly to tease the reader. Or utterly confuse them.

Consider the rest of the above an arguably unnecessary prologue of bombast and peacock pantaloons (you’ll have to read the other posts in here to get that reference).

Not my bombast, I hasten to add. I’m a modest Lady, happy to let my talents be discovered naturally and my pantaloons are not up for discussion .

So, where did I come into all of this? Oh yes. My nemesis T. Mark Mangum kindly alerted me to this War of Words.

As self-proclaimed King-Admiral with a fleet of warships to his name — he has stones for sailing into the Bay of Litany under a banner of truce tagging — he threw down the gauntlet and proposed a radical solution.

In the spirit of Illumination, all can compete.

Of course, this usually means an orphan kid sneaks in under the banners and steals the day on account of their, as yet unrevealed, parentage, but I’m all for a little genre-bending and stereotype-busting.

The challenge herein — or at least, the best as I could understand it once I slashed through all the king making malarkey — is to firstly answer your predecessor’s challenge. Mine’s in progress.

Then nominate some modest, but feisty, members of my following, and draw them forth to add their voices to the hullaballoo.

My challenge is for those of you tagged to write a poem in any form or a piece of fiction of any length. You’re free to decline or accept at will. Prompts below.

She who wishes to venture her fiction into the light, the lovely Anangsha Alammyan. The Scottish Bard of Illumination Robert Nelson. The Rude Poet and teller of battlefield tales Martin Rushton. The transcendent and talented Melissa Speed. Master of Zen and destroyer of bed bugs Martin D. Hirsch. Lady of love and memory Farida Haque. Beach bum and hiatus slayer James G Brennan. Keno Ogbo for her love of those tiny moments of life. 100-year-old soul Navya Gupta. The eminent lover of literature Lynette Clements.

And because she was one of the first to make me feel welcome on Medium and invited me into her kitchen for Caribbean stew, Marla Bishop.

Anyone else not tagged is free to join in if they wish.

Your choice of prompts are:

1. Contains the lines: She narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists. ‘Do not challenge me,’ she said.

2. On finding something lost

3. Picture prompt

Or if prompts don’t appeal, follow your own creative urges.

All I ask is that you wax lyrical, tax your powers of description to their fullest and have some fun with wordplay. Tag me when you post the piece in Illumination and challenge your own chosen few to do the same for your challenge.

You can always do a separate challenge post like this one if you don’t wish to sully up your work of art with tags. There are rumours that the Curation Wizards of Medium do not look with grace upon too much tagging. Your choice.

There’s no time limit but don’t be shy. Despite what these boisterous lads will have you think, you can never have enough cream at the top of your milk pail.

And in the spirit of conciliation for those who ventured forth as adversaries, I’ll add T. Mark Mangum, Charles Roast Rasheed Hooda Timothy Key Woelf Dietrich to the challenge.

Walk the walk, lads. Tell us some tall tales.

I’ve decried long enough. I have fiction to write for Pirate King Mangum’s challenge. It may take some time.

After all, art is like fine ale, it needs to brew a while.

Here’s a piece I brewed earlier for the wonderful Illumination and Share the Love poetry communities

And worthy of a read from the Pirate…sorry, King-Admiral himself who tagged me into this

Have fun writing! And make sure you tag these pretenders to the throne in your ripostes.

The Rude Bard has wasted no time. Here’s the first challenge-response from Martin Rushton and what a corker it is.

Navya Gupta is hot on his heels with this beautiful poem

James G Brennan created this fantastic blend of fact and fiction, with one of the best titles I’ve ever come across from the finding something lost prompt. Bloody marvellous read!