A CHRISTMAS MEMORY ON FATHER'S DAY

Straight from Janet Reid's blog, it's Texts from Mittens writing contest! 
I just got my paws on a copy of TEXTS FROM MITTENS: A Cat Who Has an Unlimited Data Plan...and Isn't Afraid to Use It. What can I say, I love this book so much I could just ...well..purr. Sharks purr? Well, they do if they're reading that book! So, in the spirit of sharing the fun, the prize for this week's flash fiction contest is a copy of TEXTS FROM MITTENS. 

The usual rules apply: 
1. Write a story using 100 words or fewer. 
2. Use these words in the story: mitten phil patty gang dish 
3. You must use the whole word, but that whole word can be part of a larger word. The letters for the prompt must appear in consecutive order. Example: phil/philodendron is ok, but dish/delish is not. 
4. Post your entry in the comment section of THIS blog post. Comments are closed until the contest opens. 
5. One entry per person. If you need a mulligan (a do-over) erase your entry and post again. It helps to work out your entry first, then post. 
6. Titles count as part of the word count (you don't need a title) 
7. Under no circumstances should you tweet anything about your particular entry to me. Example: "Hope you like my entry about Felix Buttonweezer!" This is grounds for disqualification. 
8. Please do not tweet anything but contest entries. (Not for example "I love Felix Buttonweezer's entry!") 

Contest opens: Saturday June 20, at NOON & closes: Sunday, June 21, at noon. 

My entry (first one!): 

The flurries were intermittent when we started out, 

but it was snowing like gangbusters when we headed home. 

Remember? 

Trudging uphill, 

 dragging that spindly spruce nobody else wanted, 

on Christmas Eve in 1957. 

You showed us how to make tinfoil stars from gum wrappers 

and angels from feathers. 

We sang carols, 

and ate soup Mom made 

from a hamburger patty and potatoes, 

and admired the most beautiful tree in the world. 

We were poor, yes, 

but never disheartened.

You and Mom made us feel cherished and loved. 

Christmas has never been the same 

without you two. 

Happy Father's Day, Dad. 

....

And this winner is?  JR hasn't decided yet, but I didn't make the finalist list so I didn't win. However, once again, I got special recognition, this time for "A particularly wonderful entry in honor of Father's Day"  

UPDATE!: And the winner is Hank :)

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THE DREAD OF A LABEL FAR WORSE THAN 'DEAD'

Janet Reid's SCARIEST WRITER WRITING CONTEST
It's the usual 100-word limit, but I used only 76!

To sleep, perchance...
'Tis all I ask
as I toil endlessly for my master.
Once deemed beautiful,
alas, no more.
My fingers now blistered,
my back contorted,
my mind frazzled and drained.
Await my prince in shining armor?
HA! 'Tis but a faded dream from another time.
I relinquished it all
to labor and sweat in this loveless life,
at a craft with no guarantees,
else the dread of a label far worse than 'dead':
'Unpublished.'

10/26/13, 10:07 AM

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UPDATE: And the winner is...not I. But once again I got a shout-out: "Special recognition for the horror of writing!"  I'm always glad to get some recognition. It means Janet Reid likes something about my writing.


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GEORGE CLOONEY IS SO OVER MISS SNARK

The author A.S. King is holding a Janet Reid-type contest, which is fitting since Janet Reid is where I read about it. 

WIN an advance copy of REALITY BOY! 

Want to win an ARC of REALITY BOY?
All you have to do is follow 3 little rules, and you're in. Go crazy. You have two whole weeks.

CHALLENGE:

• Your story MUST start with this sentence: Janet was early. 

• Your story MUST end with this sentence: Of course, she didn't. 

• Your story must be 100 words or less. 

DEADLINE: Sunday August 18th at 11:59PM EST
PRIZE: A signed Advance Reader Copy (ARC) of REALITY BOY. Please leave your entry in the comment area of this blog and don't forget your email address!

Winner chosen by three anonymous judges, a cosmic spider and a magic 8 ball and will be announced a few days after that deadline. 

Here's my entry (posted HERE on the contest post): 

Janet was early. 

Janet was surly 

without her evening fifth. 

"WHERE'S MY MACALLAN'S?" 

"Retract your talons,
it's coming in a jiff." 

"I loathe these parties 

with artsy-fartsies," 

she said draining her drink. 

"Would your loathing be less 

if you were the guest?" 

"Of course, what do you think?" 

 She spied Miss Snark 

in the dark; 

Clooney was her date. 

Setting her sights 

"He's mine by rights!" 

determined to make him HER mate. 

She made her move, 

swift and smooth. 

With * Janet he's now smitten. 

 "Miss Snark not see 

you stole Mr. C?" 

"What do you think? Of course, she didn't." 

* 8/14/2013 I changed the word "It's" to "With" here but I couldn't in the contest version. Just hope it doesn't affect a decision. I don't know why I didn't realize that before I posted it for the contest.

UPDATE: Today (Tues.8/20/2013) A.S. King tweeted that the winner will be announced Friday. "Promise." I hope she means this Friday.

UPDATE: (Thursday, August 22nd) She announced the winners; it was a tie, and I didn't win. But I loved entering!

 ...

"A DEAD MAN FELL FROM THE SKY..."

I had never heard of an "erasure" poem until I read GATSBY SUMMER NIGHT. I like the idea; it reminds me of Janet Reid's title-poem contest. So using the first page of The Pericles Commission -- I have Gary Corby's first two books in my to-read stack -- I 'wrote' an erasure poem.

A dead man at my feet

lay facedown in the dirt

shot through the heart.

The body was warm to the touch

his wound, slippery and wet

I heard the footsteps of someone coming

perhaps the killer

I stepped backward to take cover

I won't win any literary awards with that, but it was fun!

UPDATE: Gary Corby loved the poem and posted it on his website!

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FROM A STACK OF BOOKS EMERGED A POEM

Janet Reid is running a contest: 
Make a poem with your books.
...
You'll need to add a word here and there, but each line of the poem must include the title of a book.
Pictures REQUIRED to enter! 

My entry is posted at  "Kitty 6:02"   and I made her list of finalists!


...

57 DAYS UNTIL SEPTEMBER

If  I close my eyes I can still recall

that whiff of spring on a breezy blue-sky day,

laundry flapping in the tender sun,

freckled cheeks all warm and pink,

green velvet yards fragrant from mowing,

cool starry nights under sweet-smelling sheets.

If only summer could be like that.

7-6-2010



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