There were a lot of terrific entries as usual. Here are the ones that caught my eye:
A phrase that really deserves a place in Tawna Fenske's next
book:
"five-knuckle parade"
fiercelyyours 10:21am
Special recognition for a great phrase:
the poison of the empty promises
Carolynnwith2Ns 10:38am
Special recognition for a deft adaptation:
The show went on, with a donut pillow as the star’s southern
comfort.
AmandaINK1 4:37pm
There were some great words describing groups of things:
A giggle of teenagers
Michael Seese 10:23am
bulldozer of bullies
donnaeverhart 10:24am
rumble of second graders
Katharine 11:08am
SPEW of MEMES
Terri Lynn Coop 11:30am
harassment of tabloid journalists
Franca Stewart 12:26pm
Blaze of banalities
Mister Furkles 12:57
rubberneck of onlookers
AmySchaefer 1:28pm
A crackling of dead leaves
Lucas 3:21pm
A thunder of toddlers
Robyn Campbell 3:59pm
cloud of cauliflowers
Ginger Mollymarilyn 5:33pm
carcass of memories
Foxcreek 6:07pm
slander of gossiping busybodies
Calorie Bombshell 12:22am
ricochet of cats
Jeanne 12:46am
a plague of divorce lawyers
french sojourn 3:42am
spider of live oak limbs
Cheryl Carvajal 8:45am
These were my two favorites:
Herriot of veterinarians
Kat Waclawwik 12:56am
the fleece of con men
Steve Forti 9:41am
Special recognition for entries that weren't quite stories
but had lovely writing
but had lovely writing
Colin Smith 10:48am
Franca Stewart 12:26pm
KrisM 12:53pm
Lucas 3:21pm
Foxcreek 6:07pm
Here are the seven finalists:
(1) Deborah Holt Williams 10:40am
(1) Deborah Holt Williams 10:40am
The gorilla burst through the coffee shop, where a frustration of picture book writers stared at their laptops. He climbed the espresso
machine, while the writers sipped their lattes in search of inspiration. What
to write?
They held their cups more tightly as the gorilla bounded from table to table, pounding his chest.
“Character driven—but what character?” sighed one writer.
“Character must solve his own problem, but what problem?” pondered another.
“Don’t forget the rule of three,” said a third.
The gorilla leaped over the counter and helped himself to three cronuts before he knuckle-walked out the door.
They held their cups more tightly as the gorilla bounded from table to table, pounding his chest.
“Character driven—but what character?” sighed one writer.
“Character must solve his own problem, but what problem?” pondered another.
“Don’t forget the rule of three,” said a third.
The gorilla leaped over the counter and helped himself to three cronuts before he knuckle-walked out the door.
(2) Ashley Whitt 10:59am
A harem of us wait. More every day, upstairs and down. Longing
to be chosen.
She arrives. I stand a little straighter, hold my breath.
Her fingers trail over us. She bites her lip, as if she's unsure, as if she doesn't hold all the power. The queen of the known universe.
She reaches. For a glorious second I'm sure it's me, but it's not. My neighbor disappears and I sense his elation as she brings him to her bedroom, tugs off his jacket, and I, I remain, slumping in his empty space.
And again I wait, to be read.
She arrives. I stand a little straighter, hold my breath.
Her fingers trail over us. She bites her lip, as if she's unsure, as if she doesn't hold all the power. The queen of the known universe.
She reaches. For a glorious second I'm sure it's me, but it's not. My neighbor disappears and I sense his elation as she brings him to her bedroom, tugs off his jacket, and I, I remain, slumping in his empty space.
And again I wait, to be read.
(3) SiSi 2:33pm
Those kids came back last night, daring each other to run up
and touch my front door. “Go away,” I shouted, but they didn’t hear me.
I decided to ignore them this time. They weren’t hurting anything, and I could remember being young, feeling that heady mixture of fear and fun. But then they laughed at my hand-stitched welcome mat, and I got mad. When I rushed to the door and slammed it open, they took off like they’d seen a whole sheet of ghosts.
I’ve always been proud of my welcome mat. Dying didn’t change that one bit.
I decided to ignore them this time. They weren’t hurting anything, and I could remember being young, feeling that heady mixture of fear and fun. But then they laughed at my hand-stitched welcome mat, and I got mad. When I rushed to the door and slammed it open, they took off like they’d seen a whole sheet of ghosts.
I’ve always been proud of my welcome mat. Dying didn’t change that one bit.
(4) Jessa 5:56pm
Kidnapped, hogtied, about to be sacrificed by an evil wizard.
In the suburbs. The indignity kept Timothy from being terrified.
If only Paisley… Unfortunately, the wizard knew of Timothy's relationship with the fairy and prepared. The only way she could enter was if the wizard brought her in.
Someone knocked. "Sign here, please."
The scratch of a pen, tape tearing. And the sound of dozens of fairy wings sizzling with magic. Seconds later, a frantic hedgehog waddled past, pursued by an entire buzz of fairies.
"Pais? How…?"
Paisley flipped a happy mid-air circle. "Small things come in good packaging."
If only Paisley… Unfortunately, the wizard knew of Timothy's relationship with the fairy and prepared. The only way she could enter was if the wizard brought her in.
Someone knocked. "Sign here, please."
The scratch of a pen, tape tearing. And the sound of dozens of fairy wings sizzling with magic. Seconds later, a frantic hedgehog waddled past, pursued by an entire buzz of fairies.
"Pais? How…?"
Paisley flipped a happy mid-air circle. "Small things come in good packaging."
(5) Jared X 9:51pm
The shtetl was abuzz. The men yanked David from class, locking
him in the shul’s library while they deliberated.
Hours passed, the air hot and stale. David sensed it wasn’t like the other times. The property damage was considerable, Mrs. Levinsky in shock. When they convened a schvitz of rabbis to parse his latest misadventure, he feared his father couldn’t make this one disappear.
They called the boy in. Rabbi Margolies announced plans for the new Yeshiva Levinsky, a gift of David’s father. David quietly beamed.
His father’s stern face ended his celebration. “Your uncle needs a clerk. In America.”
Hours passed, the air hot and stale. David sensed it wasn’t like the other times. The property damage was considerable, Mrs. Levinsky in shock. When they convened a schvitz of rabbis to parse his latest misadventure, he feared his father couldn’t make this one disappear.
They called the boy in. Rabbi Margolies announced plans for the new Yeshiva Levinsky, a gift of David’s father. David quietly beamed.
His father’s stern face ended his celebration. “Your uncle needs a clerk. In America.”
(6) Sara Bowers 10:38pm
“Sometimes I worry about my son.” Mary said as he unscrewed
the clock bottom and began removing metal bits.
“Most kids go through a destructive stage. My son destroyed our blueray player.” Sheila said.
“That’s not what I worry about. Watch.” She nodded to her son. He laid out each gear, cog, and other assorted innards in precise groups. One by one his chubby fingers picked them up and stuck them back in the clock. Five minutes later the clock was running perfectly.
“Whoa. Is he…?” Sheila said.
“Yes, he’s going to join a boredom of engineers.”
“Most kids go through a destructive stage. My son destroyed our blueray player.” Sheila said.
“That’s not what I worry about. Watch.” She nodded to her son. He laid out each gear, cog, and other assorted innards in precise groups. One by one his chubby fingers picked them up and stuck them back in the clock. Five minutes later the clock was running perfectly.
“Whoa. Is he…?” Sheila said.
“Yes, he’s going to join a boredom of engineers.”
(7) JD Paradise 1:37am
You come early for the meeting at the Topeka Marriott. Early
or not, the wizards have already gone,
the entire power. Or so it
seems. You make for the free buffet.
The flowers in the vases are a string of colorful handkerchiefs. You pull one. The trap door opens and you descend to the stage.
A leatherlung boos from the first row. Your dad. Booing you.
You have your pride.
You gesture. The lion beneath his chair roars. Feeds, to the din of screaming.
This is Day Three of Hell Week.
Sacrifice enough, they'll have to let you in.
The decision here was damn hard, let me tell you. The wealth of talent on display here boggles my mind.
The winner is Jared X 9:51pm.
Thanks to everyone who entered, and huzzahs to the finalists!
Jared if you'll email me with your mailing address I'll send you a copy of RUNNER by Patrick Lee. If you've read it already, or don't read taut, edge of your seat thrillers, we'll find you something else.
The flowers in the vases are a string of colorful handkerchiefs. You pull one. The trap door opens and you descend to the stage.
A leatherlung boos from the first row. Your dad. Booing you.
You have your pride.
You gesture. The lion beneath his chair roars. Feeds, to the din of screaming.
This is Day Three of Hell Week.
Sacrifice enough, they'll have to let you in.
The decision here was damn hard, let me tell you. The wealth of talent on display here boggles my mind.
The winner is Jared X 9:51pm.
Thanks to everyone who entered, and huzzahs to the finalists!
Jared if you'll email me with your mailing address I'll send you a copy of RUNNER by Patrick Lee. If you've read it already, or don't read taut, edge of your seat thrillers, we'll find you something else.












