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To avoid futher cluttering up Gary's thread with literary musings, may I suggest we create this thread to which all members may contribute any literary thoughts, ideas and work that they wish to share!

 

I may post something later, depends! 

 

Don't all rush at once!

 

sem34090

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Oh well... seems to be little response.

 

Guess I'd better post something here then!

 

A rather left-wing 'descriptive' piece from me: not really poetry or a story, just mucking around with words in a amateur fashion! I'll post the beginning to an abortive story, set firmly in pre-grouping (certainly early grouping at the latest!) days on the Western. At least that one mentions a railway!

 

Llyn Padarn

 

Spears of Sunlight push and force their way through the leaves and between the branches of the Oaks and Firs mounted high above the banks of Llyn Padarn. They stab into the heart of the wood, past each tree, bush and seedling until eventually the darkness below Fachwen force them to retreat back out to the broad light over the lake.

Around the side of Elidir Fawr, under the combined shadows of Moel Eilio, Foel Goch and the great Yr Wydffa, the green turns to grey, as trees and bushes quickly melt away into the great mass of the former quarries at Dinorwig. The former heart of the nation that ‘roofed the Empire and beyond’. The grey faces of the rocks gaze down upon the remains: the lakes and the flooded pits.

 

Abandoned workings, spoil tips and splitting sheds litter the mountainside, and on the upper galleries the rudimentary shelters that once protected the men who worked the cliffs in all weathers stand precariously awaiting their own fate. The cabans that once bore witness to the formation of unions, the discussion of politics, or even small happenings in people’s lives now stand cold and dead, some still bearing the scars of life: a coat left the night before closure, or an enamel mug that will bear tea no more.

 

There is little life left now besides the occasional bush and a light carpet of thin, yellowing, grass on the lower levels, but most life beyond that that attempts to eke out a small life for itself is either permanently stunted or gone within a matter of weeks. A landscape blown apart by gunpowder and profiteering: dynamite and exploitation. The workers, managers and shareholders long since passed and silence hangs over the sorry remains of an industry no more.

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The aforementionted 'pre-grouping' abortive story... didn't get very far with this one! I always try and conduct some research for any piece of fiction, in order to get roads and places in the right places! Hopefully I got it right here, but the whole thing felt a bit cliche to be going on with.

 

Now, someone else's turn!

 

Bluebottles

 

The smog hung low in the freezing winter’s chill, as the blanket of the night smothered the street. A gas lamp hissed and flickered quietly on the corner, whispering to itself. It stood sentinel on the junction where Vine Lane joined the Uxbridge Road, protecting the occupants of the buildings from any untoward shadows. The area was bursting with silence, as if all the walls, railings and cobbles were dying to express some long-held truth, and yet felt they could not.

There was a slight disturbance to the silence, as the door of the Red Lion Hotel cracked open a few inches, and hushed voices floated across Uxbridge Road, and trickled off down the various side streets. It appeared one man was describing to another how a bill should be paid, but the voices were quiet, unnoticeable even, and the conversation was disjointed. The door opened wider, and a pair of gentlemen emerged. The first wore dark clothes, but even from a distance it was clear that he was a man of the law. The tall hat and wide belt gave it away, though the dark blue tunic blended seamlessly with the background, his figure disfigured slightly by the large greatcoat that he wore upon his shoulders.

The second gentleman was slightly shorter, but wider. He was less defined in appearance, but appeared to be wearing a large coat of some description. Very little other than his skin and white shirt collar could be distinguished from the darkness. They paused directly opposite Vine Lane, and discussed the best course to take to West Drayton station. The turned into Uxbridge Road, before continuing in the direction of Hillingdon Hill.

They walked briskly into the fog, their figures reducing to silhouettes, before vapourising completely as the hungry night swallowed them whole.

*

Constable George Streatly had had transferred to the Metropolitan Police force from Reading in 1903, and had served in London for four years, following a previous fifteen years of work with the Berkshire Constabulary in the borough of Reading. He was experienced, and was known for his creativity where others failed to solve problems by force, and this was how he had come to join ‘the met’ in the February of 1903. He had continued to live in Reading, but by 1907 he was preparing to move into the developing Western suburbs.

Streatly was a solidly built man, and could tower over many, yet wouldn’t intimidate without good cause. He had defined features and gently piercing dark eyes that would track you down when you least expected it. He was rugged in appearance, and yet somehow appeared extremely civilised and was polite in his mannerisms as one would expect in good society.

 

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Well, it actually features the GNR and MR, so it's better than my very loose connection the GWR! Sounds like an interesting take on a rather well-known story...

 

I didn't think the GNR used wood-firing?!  :jester:  I'm sure F***** S******* would've benefited from a money tree though!  :nono:

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A cross post from Oak Hill. Enjoy!!

 

Right then. I promised a literary work, and a literary work you shall receive!!

 

So Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you "The Engines of Oak Hill" Part 1 - YouTube script. Feedback greatly appreciated!

 

post-22762-0-49624000-1516218594_thumb.jpg

 

Episode 1 - Welcome to Oak Hill By Gary Kemp

 

Narrator: Long ago in the earliest years of the 20th century, there were 100s of railway companies in Britain. Sometimes they worked together, sometimes they fought against each other, and sometimes they did both at the same time.

These stories are about two of those companies, The London, Brighton & South Coast Railway, and The newly formed South Eastern & Chatham Railway, which had only come into existence a few years earlier with the joining of the South Eastern Railway and the London, Chatham & Dover Railway. These are the stories of The Engines of Oak Hill!

 

Play Titles

 

Outside the engine shed. Hailsham is being prepared for his train, Primrose arrives having just finished her run

 

Primrose: Hello there.

 

Hailsham: Hello, who are you?

 

Primrose: I´m Primrose, I have just been assigned here. Who are you?

 

Hailsham: I´m Hailsham, like it says on my tanks. Speaking of tanks what does SE&CR mean.

 

Primrose: It´s the South Eastern & Chatham Railway

 

Hailsham: What is a South Eastern & Chatham Railway? This is the London, Brighton & South Coast Railway.

 

Primrose: I will have you know the SE&CR is the premier line to the south of London!

 

Hailsham: Are you sure? A name like Primrose makes you sound like a delicate flower, not a strong engine for pulling trains!

 

Primrose: I beg your pardon! At least a Primrose is a real thing, who has ever heard of a "Hailsham"!

 

Hailsham: Hailsham is a place, it is the station I was originally built for. I used to haul the Hailsham shuttle from Eastbourne, and when I was at Hailsham everyone knew I was in charge, even the big express engines did what I told them. If I wanted to go first then I would, and there was nothing they could do about it. Of course, I didn’t do that often. I used to say "off you go then, get your passengers home, just be quick." And so they would.

 

Primrose: Wow, you must have bee……….

 

Oak Hill pulls up to the coaling stage, he does not seem impressed with the behaviour of Hailsham towards the new engine.

 

Oak Hill: Poppycock!!

 

Hailsham: Excuse me?!

 

Oak Hill: You heard me terrier! You were never "in charge" at Hailsham. You just knew the timetable and would say things just before the signalman acted to make it seem like you were in charge!

 

Hailsham: Yes…. Well….. Ermm…… I have a train to take…… Goodbye……. Nice meeting you Primrose

 

Hailsham felling rather embarrassed quickly pulls of scene to collect his train

 

Oak Hill: You will have to excuse Hailsham, he just likes to feel important. Now Primrose was it?

 

Primrose: Yes, and I guess you are Oak Hill?

 

Oak Hill: Yes, I was built for this line, I have worked it since before The Brighton took over. I only pull goods trains between here and the junction now but that suits me just fine, I was not built for trains as heavy as the ones we have now. Hailsham pulls a shuttle service to Eridge to meet with the London expresses. What will you be doing?

 

Primrose: I have been assigned here to pull a shuttle to Tunbridge Wells to meet with the trains heading to London and Hastings.

 

Oak Hill: Well now that is interesting, we already have one of your SE&CR cousins working here. Only two services a day one early in the morning straight to London and one back in the evening. He sleeps in the shed but I have never been able to speak with him as he is always very late back and goes straight to sleep so I do not know his name or class, but he seems like a good engine.

 

Primrose: Thank you Oak Hill, I look forward to working here and getting to know everyone.

 

Oak Hill: Well that should not take long; you are only the fifth engine allocated here.

 

Primrose: Well I guess I have met half the engines already then! Now if you would excuse me, I need to get some rest before my next run.

 

Oak Hill: Of course, go ahead, and welcome to Oak Hill.

 

END

Edited by BlueLightning
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You're giving a certain Reverend Awdry a run for his money, Gary. I can't wait to see it in action!

 

- Alex

 

Thank you Alex. A compliment of the highest order, and much more than I was expecting!!

 

Yes, but he'll need a somewhat lachrymose Scouse accent to pull it off!

 

I already have a few people to do voice acting roles for YouTube. None of them are Scouse though!!!

 

Gary

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Ah, the Brighton Railway Series... I knew I was close, but that script is great: a lot, LOT, better than a few others I've seen on Youtube!

 

Best line? 

 

"who has ever heard of a "Hailsham"

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Thank you Sir Eustace!!

 

I must admit to being rather nervous about posting it! but the comments I have received have made me very very happy!!

 

 

Pity you hadn't mentioned it to me before, I've listed myself as an actress on my LinkedIn page!

 

I think I still need more cast!!

 

Gary

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I thought as much! She can sit on 'Salvington' until I get brave enough to cover over that beautiful bowpen-lined and lettered SR Green and replace it with SECR Wainwright. The latter livery is so much nicer, but the sheer work that has gone into its current livery puts me off!

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Nice!

 

There was a young guard from Brighton,

Of whom one look would frighten,

Until one day he fell,

In front of the Belle,

And the third rail did lighten!

 

Not pre-grouping, but pre-BR so that's OK!

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