On 27 June, two of our talented young writers, Ned and Andrew, attended the awards ceremony for the D.H. Lawrence Children's Writing Competition at the D.H. Lawrence Birthplace Museum in Eastwood. This year's competition invited children to write a story or poem on the theme of Friendship, inspired by the friendships that shaped the life of D.H. Lawrence. We were thrilled to learn that both boys were recognised by the judges for the outstanding quality of their writing. Ned was awarded First Prize for his beautifully crafted story, The Weight of a Ticket. The judges praised its "immersive" storytelling, vivid imagery and moving conclusion. As the winner of his age category, Ned also received a Kindle, and his story will become part of the competition's digital exhibition. Andrew was awarded Highly Commended for his touching story Ben, which was featured in our previous newsletter. His success is a wonderful achievement and reflects the creativity, dedication and care that he invested in his writing. The awards were presented by Councillor Sarah Webb, Deputy Mayor of Broxtowe, and Aarya Handa, a member of the Youth Panel for Nottingham City of Literature. The afternoon also gave entrants and their families the opportunity to explore the museum, meet fellow young writers and celebrate their achievements together. We are immensely proud of both boys. Their success is a reminder that great writing grows from imagination, perseverance and a willingness to keep refining a piece until every word counts. We hope you enjoy reading Ned's prize-winning story, which follows below.
The Weight of a Ticket
The pier of Atami was basically falling apart. It smelled like boat exhaust and those tiny silver fish that get stuck in the nets and rot. Hana sat on the edge, kicking the wood with her heels until her feet felt numb. She had the train ticket to Tokyo in her back pocket. It was just a cheap piece of paper, but it felt heavy, like it was pinning her down.A plastic bag thudded onto the wood. Two warm cans of honey-lemon tea rolled out."Friday morning then," Kaito said. He sat a few feet away, looking tired. His hair was a mess from the wind."Yeah," Hana said. "My mom already packed the kitchen. She even took the blue bowls. The house looks like a hotel now. Just empty and smelling like Elkasha."Kaito cracked his tea open. "Tokyo's going to be a mess. You'll get lost in the station and end up crying in a mall. Nobody there is going to tell you if your backpack is open or if you've got rice on your face. They don't care."Hana looked at the islands. They were just dark blobs in the gray light."It'll just be another person in a suit. I probably won't even hear the bugs by next month. It's too loud there."Kaito dug in his pocket and tossed something at her. It hit her knee and bounced. It was a piece of green sea glass, jagged on one side."Keep it. It's just trash the ocean spat back," he muttered, looking at his shoes. "But don't act like you're just deleting yourself. You've been here seventeen years. My English grades are going to tank because I can't copy your notes. That's a permanent scar."Hana picked up the glass. "You're really going to fail that exam, aren't you?""Most likely. The vocab list is huge. Plus my dad has me working the nets all weekend." He kicked a splinter into the water. "I tried reading that cat book you left. It was dumb. Why didn't he just go find it? People make things way too complicated."Hana laughed a little. "It's a metaphor, Kaito.""Metaphors are just lies for people who can't say what they mean," he said. He stood up and shoved the top of her head, messing up her hair. "Just go to Tokyo. Get the degree. And call me when you get lost. I'll look at the map and tell you where to go."Hana stood up and put the ticket and the rock in the same pocket. She bumped her shoulder against his. "I'm keeping the rock. And I'll call you when the train pulls in."He reached out, briefly catching her hand in a quick, tight squeeze before letting go. "Let's go get the extra-large ramen at the shop near the station—I want to remember exactly what your face looks like when you're happy before you go.""You know Kaito, Atami is just a place on a map, but I don't think I'll ever find another you"
What the judges said about Ned's story The Weight of a Ticket
A really immersive piece of prose with great imagery. The use of dialogue is judicious and well placed, allowing the piece to flow very neatly. The length is tight enough for the narrative to be a hard-hitting, memorable snapshot of a moment in time - balancing both depth and control. The ending line is my favourite, delivering a gut punch as the curtains close. Without doubt, this piece is a beautiful take on the theme of friendship accompanied by a brilliant title! The writer has a striking talent for storytelling that is well beyond their years - maybe we will see their name on book covers in the future? Keep putting pen to paper!
What the judges said about Andrew's story Ben
"A heartwarming piece of prose with a 'peekaboo effect', gradually building in description from human to hound, cleverly keeping the reader's experience in mind. The pastoral imagery offers beautifully personal character insight. My favourite sentence remains, 'I slid the leash from his neck, and in doing so, I felt it slip onto mine' – a polysemic line that is stunningly evocative and rich. The cyclical nature of the piece creates cohesion, depicting friendship as a process of naturally returning to what feels like 'home'. This story triggers an effortless smile when reading: a truly wholesome execution of the theme."
