San Gabriel Writers' League Annual Essay Contest • "Venice in the Hood" by Marty McAllister

The San Gabriel Writers’ League (SGWL) wrapped up its annual Essay Contest in April, spotlighting the creative talents of writers across Central Texas. Open to members and non-members, the 2025 competition invited essays of 1,500 words or fewer centered on the theme, “Turning Points.” Writers explored defining moments, unexpected detours, and life-changing decisions in pieces that were heartfelt, humorous, and thought-provoking.

Donnella Looger is the current vice president of the San Gabriel Writers’ League and the driving force behind this year’s essay contest. Having been introduced to Donnella by Linda Thornton, one of Georgetown View's own writers, we are grateful for her invitation to participate and showcase the top writers. Her tireless work in organizing, promoting, and championing the contest gave local authors a meaningful opportunity to share their voices. As the owner of DRL Press, Donnella brings expert editing, proofreading, and publishing skills to the table—skills that have helped many writers, including several League members, experience the joy of seeing their work in print.

Second-place winner MARTY MCALLISTER grew up in northern Indiana in a lovely small town. Her interests are varied, and she participated in several extracurricular activities such as music, art, cheerleading, baton twirling, summer theater, and water sports, as she lived on a lake.

From about twelve years old, she was curious and enchanted with Europe. Finally able to visit Paris at forty she was smitten with the “bug.” She’s since traveled to Europe numerous times and written short stories of her travels.

Marty lives Sun City, is a member of San Gabriel Writer’s League, and teaches piano, paint and mosaics.

Readers can look forward to reading an excerpt from the third-place winning story in our July issue.

________________________________________________________________

Outside my shuttered windows is a lonely, quiet early morning before dawn; just occasional footsteps on the campo or nearby bridges that cross the small canals. No sounds of commerce. Birds sound as if they are screaming. There are no insects; I saw one fly in five days. No cars

About 6:00 a.m., I hear the sound of a few small boats starting their engines. In other areas, grocery boats, garbage, ambulance, police boats and public transportation boats called Vaporetti are doing the same. Locals and tourists alike must walk or take boats to begin their day’s activities. I unfasten the small metal latches, push open the green wooden shutters and fold them back onto themselves to see the unadorned façade of chiesa San Martino watching over my tiny second floor apartment. A footbridge over a narrow canal separates me from the campo that is home to the church and negozio di alimentari, a grocery store. I can see the yellow five-story building where my landlords live on the third floor and run the grocery store at street level. Smaller than a one-car garage, it stocks a variety of staples, cheese, deli meats, olives, dairy products, water, juices, pastas and wines.

Close to 7:00 a.m. the sounds begin: clanging, banging, opening, shutting, motors and voices. At the grocery, metal security gates roll up, followed by the spreading of large, green awnings. I hear a few footsteps, then more on the two metal bridges connecting the walkways on either side of my flat.

Delivery men, sounds of commerce, locals walking to work or tourists up early due to jet lag are all part of my morning wakeup call.

Francesco steps out of his grocery store to meet a man rolling a small red plastic crate attached to a dolly. The deliveryman stops in front and together they carry small packages into the store. Cheese delivery? A few well-rounded older women stroll by. Tourists or locals? I decide by their casual, unhurried demeanor, lack of luggage or cameras, and mode of dress, that they are locals. The putt-putt of boat engines and workers pushing and pulling containers up and down the steps of nearby bridges continue through mid-morning.

Venetians refer to the city as “Serenissima” meaning “most serene.” The ancient and modern mix in a frenzy of shopkeepers, restaurateurs soliciting passers-by, street artists, sellers of kitschy souvenirs and tour guides holding up their closed umbrellas to herd their charges through the day trip visits. Those who return to the mainland at night miss the magical evenings in exchange for a less expensive hotel.

Sometimes called the most beautiful city built by man, and Europe’s most romantic city. Venice has another side. The ancient facades have been witness to more than 1,000 years of luxurious lifestyles, ruthless rule of powerful religious leaders, extensive commerce and trade as a major maritime power, as well as the lives of countless writers, artists and musicians. History is present and alive in this city of huge palaces and churches built on sticks planted into the mud of the lagoon over a thousand years ago.

Visit GeorgetownViewArchive.com to read the rest of Marty's short story.