Onward to the nine brave shortlisted scribblers who turned up to the writing workshop, then made off to write their own column.

Each took the business seriously, if not solemnly, and each respected one of journalism's most important disciplines, the deadline.

As one editor told me "no point writing the world's most peerless prose if it arrives an hour late."

News Guardian editor Ross Weeks and I were the judges.

Susan Johnson's Tales of a Yogi recounts her bizarre coastal adventures looking for a suitable hall to hire as a yoga teacher, leading to an unexpected assignation, a king size bed and black satin sheets – comic, if not quite column material.

Geoffrey Young's See Whitley Bay and Die offers advice for the resort's renaissance, which includes morale-boosting cardboard cut-out tourists, who could sit in B&B front windows next to NO VACANCY signs. This was an imaginative idea, but could have been expanded.

Michael Harrison's dialogue piece is between himself and Walter Ego, and revolves around the long established habit of folk searching streets for discarded coinage, the 'Hoy Oots' as he calls them. A good attempt, though the dialogue form didn't quite fit the subject matter.

The bulge in Mark Freeman's cheek is his tongue, as he looks at the number of pubs closing, and fears for a binge of sobriety. With rocketing bar prices, he says 'it is now cheaper to fly to Ulan Bator for a session on fermented yak's milk than enjoy a couple of gallons in Whitley Bay'. Colourful stuff, though a slightly awkward target.

Joan Phillips' talent in spelling words backwards she says, has brought her fame. 'I was even asked to appear on the HARPO show in America," (think about it), also a proposal of marriage from Mayor John Harrison.' Good fun, if slightly running out of puff.

We laughed at Noreens Rees' ideas for Whitley Bay regeneration; these included making use of 'the giant blackboard' of our beach for such sloganising as 'Northern Rock are Bankers', ostrich relay races, and Spencer Tunick photographing nude sunbathers in deckchairs. A nice light touch.

Foghorns, Sheriffs and Exploding Tentacles is the title of Ian Young's playful piece on the misuse of words, including 'I'm just a prawn in this game' (presumably a marine version of chess, writes Ian). He suggests two possible renamings of our glorious resort in view of recent developments, Whitley Pay (parking proposals) and Whitley May (regenerations plans).

Richard Rippon's Smoke 'Em if You've Got 'Em is a comic look at current pub smoking ban, and how we shouldn't have overhealthy expectations about going for a drink. 'Darts and pool don't constitute cardiovascular activity, and some bar snacks come with a free heart attack in a little blue sachet', he writes.

Finally Tim Buckley's Pipe Dreams, Piers and Peccadilloes (like many, Tim shows a true talent for headline writing) which suggests a new Whitley Bay pier, with wave power generating the electricity, plus our own Whitley 'Eye'. It's a nicely written piece though the subject was tackled in this column June 22, 2006.

Both Ross and I were impressed with the standard; witty but not silly, something to say without preaching, and allowing disciplined imaginations to roam free. And achieving that simple, yet often difficult task, making the reader want to keep with it.

A difficult choice but eventually we plumped for Richard Rippon, with Noreen Rees runner-up. Noreen was also runner-up last year, so right now must have those so-near-so-far feelings of the Whitley Bay players.

Our commiserations, but thanks to all the writers for being brave and imaginative enough to take the challenge on board. Read Richard next week.

PETER MORTIMER

Mortimer at Large – Selected Columns, IRON Press/North Tyneside Libraries £8. Now published