Eastercon Convention Diary Friday 14th April 2017 Ready Steady Flash

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After a few hours of chatting with arriving friends, and a quick browse around the book stalls and art displays at the convention, I headed to my second chosen event of the day, a Flash fiction (very short story) writing contest. Guest writer attendees, Adrian Tchaikovsky, Aliette De Bodard, Ian Whates and Pat Cadigan, were set in fun competition to one another to write short stories in just five minute, on topics and titles set by the audience. The topic chosen by the audience were The Day I Changed For The Better, Phoenix Falling, and I’m Wearing Pants On My Head The Robot Cried. Another title was yelled out by a young girl aged about six and everyone decided that it was too good to ignore in the third round of the contest – her suggested title – The Day My Feet Went Mad. I hoped to write my own stories to the four given titles but compere, Lee Harris engaged the audience in an impromptu quiz during the actual period of writing. My favourite story to come of the game has to be Adrian Tchaikovsky’s alternate take on Kafka’s Metamorphosis, in which Gregor Samsa actually gets out of the house and all the way to work despite turning into an insect. The final result was declared to be a four way tie for first place. Before the quiz kicked in I did write notes for the opening story suggestion, which I relate here. The Day I Changed For The Better I was always evil. I still am evil. I’m just better at it, as in more evil and less likely to get caught. I neither have nor desire expendable minions, and I lack the million of dollars required for a secret underground base, full of weaponry and booby traps. There are several going on e-bay at present. I can’t afford any of them unless I do actually teal the Crown Jewels. I prefer to hide in plain sight, non-descript and anonymous. My crimes against humanity are a solo affair. Others would let me down, and increase my chances of getting caught. So, what do I do that is so wicked? Nothing, I think evil thoughts, but I never do it. I never even fail to take my library book back on their due date. I’m so squeaky clean and innocent I make others feel their own evil in my presence. I go to church. I sing the hymns louder than everyone, oozing false piety and insincerity. Only after my death will it be learned that my knighthood was undeserved. Oh, OK, so I’m a coward and a hypocrite, so sue me. You can’t can you, because hypocrisy isn’t a crime. If it was every politician would be behind bars. Oh God, I’m not evil at all. I’m so good I’m a failure. Oops, big mistake. I just kicked the dog in my rage and someone saw me. I’ll have to kill them now. Looks like I’m on my way to super-villainy after all. You’ll all be sorry soon, all of you. Ha! Ha! Ha! I feel better already. Arthur Chappell