The Entries Are In…

and the waiting begins.

AgainstTheCurrent

Judging for the Summer Writing Contest from The Write Practice and Short Fiction Break  has begun.  Our entries were due over a week ago and earlier this week the authors who chose to have their stories published are now available for your reading pleasure here.

This season’s theme is “Redemption” and the stories are limited to 1,500 words.  All entries are workshopped with the other authors for a week before the final versions are submitted for judging.  I received nothing but constructive and supportive feedback and had the opportunity to return the favor to other authors.  The contests are seasonal if you are interested and I posted more about them here.

You can link directly to my short story by clicking the book cover above or through this link – Against the Current.  I would love to hear what you think about my entry whether good or bad as any criticism can only serve to help me improve my future writing.  If you have time to read an add a comment below, I would greatly appreciate it.

I hope to meet you in one of the future writing contest workshops.  Thank you for reading and, just by reaching the end of this post, thank you for supporting my writing.  I make every effort to visit the sites of anyone who comments and perhaps I can return the favor.

Summer Writing Contest

The Summer Writing Contest from The Write Practice and Short Fiction Break is finally here!  This contest’s theme is “Redemption” and the deadline to enter is July 10th.  You can link to all the information about the contest including the signup page here.

summer-writing-contest

This will be the third time I have entered this contest series and I keep coming back for two great reasons.

First, all entrants are required to workshop their stories for a week with the other contestants.  Not only do you get great feedback from fellow writers but you also get a chance to read some great stories and see how the authors incorporate the feedback they receive.

Second, for a slightly higher entry fee, you have the option to receive written feedback directly from the judges after the winners are announced.  In the past, I received supportive and constructive feedback from two judges, so I would expect this to continue with this season’s contest as well.

If you can dream up an idea that fits the theme and have the time to pump out a 1,500 word short story in the next week, I highly recommend signing up.

I hope to see you in the workshop!

Superpowers

superhero-450419_1280

Bubbles floated up and settled around the side of the thick edged coffee mug. John watched the steam float up and dissipate.

“Thanks,” he said.

“And I was beginning to think I wouldn’t see you today,” the waitress replied before making rounds to fill coffee at her other tables.

John slipped his superhero comic from beneath the menu where he had shoved it before Maggie took his order.

As he flipped to his place in the comic he mentally made his 1,819th mark on his attendance list and his 763rd mark on Maggie’s witty retort list. He was getting close to his five year anniversary. Sitting in the same booth, drinking the same coffee and enjoying his brief and repetitive conversations with the only waitress he ever had. Only the comic was different each day.

He promised himself he’d splurge and get eggs and a muffin on his quinquennial. John dreamed of Maggie bringing it to him with a candle, but she probably had no clue of the approaching day’s significance.

He gazed back at the few remaining bubbles and watched them pop leaving a perfect black mirror in an off-white frame.

The mirror rippled first before the thin metal silverware and his empty muffin plate bounced around the speckled Formica table. John grabbed the shiny metal edge expecting to stop the shaking but it had no affect. His eyes darted about the diner. The trays of mugs behind the counter rattled toward a destructive fall. The pendant lights swayed above the other surprised patrons. Even the glass in the front picture windows shimmered with the increasing vibrations.

With a boom the front door disintegrated and the shaking stopped. A whoosh pulled all sound from the room which was replaced by slow and deliberate boot steps, each one ending with a distinct “ting” of a metal toe tapping the tile floor.

Black cargo pants stretched tight against the intruder’s powerful legs. His white t-shirt revealed every upper body muscle including some John didn’t know existed.

He tossed a duffle on the counter.

“Valuables and cash!”

No one moved.

“Now!”

Maggie reached the cash register first, but couldn’t seem to get it to open. John could see other patrons fumbling for their wallets and removing jewelry.

John wrapped his hand around his mug and drained it in one swig.

He breathed in expanding his chest to twice its size. The muscles on his arms bulged with veins throbbing.

The intruder tore one of the counter stools from its bolts in the floor and tossed it into the kitchen. He stepped forward and slammed his fist through the counter breaking it in two. He snatched the duffle before the counter collapsed and flung it to a nearby table of four.

“You don’t want me to ask again!”

John slid from his booth and rose.

The intruder pointed at John and said, “Now, there’s a smart guy.”

John rose to full height and still breathing in grew another foot. He strode toward the intruder.

The intruder flipped an empty four-top over his shoulder like a piece of trash where it smashed against the men’s room door.

John stopped within arm’s reach of the monstrous figure who still towered over him. He sucked in one more breath growing enough to look him eye to eye.

“I think I’ve been more than patient,” the intruder bellowed.

Behind him, the few patrons still capable to moving began tossing their cash, jewelry and electronics toward the duffle bag. The intruder ignored the noise of most items bouncing off the table and skidding across the floor. Straightening his posture, the intruder rose an inch above John’s eye line.

John sucked in air through his nose and grew to meet the intruder’s change in height.
The intruder dropped his open hand on John’s shoulder and squeezed the skin and muscles into his fist. He stared deep into John’s eyes. “We don’t want any trouble, now, do we?”

With a sweep of his arm, John lobbed the enormous man across the room where he landed where the counter once had been. In the blink of an eye, John sped to where the intruder lay, grabbed him by the collar and dumped him outside on the sidewalk against a “No Parking” sign. He twisted the pole around the intruder like the stripe on a barber pole.

“Here ya go.” Maggie slipped the check onto the table.

John jerked his head up, snapping him away from his hard stare into the coffee.
“See you tomorrow? Enjoy your superhero comic.” She winked and moved on to her next table.

John flipped over the paper and considered the $7.50 check. He pulled out three twenties, tucked them and the check beneath his mug.

Maggie wiped off the pristine counter as John strolled past. He half raised his hand to wave but Maggie didn’t see him.
Outside, John could see Maggie clearing the booth he had just left. He watched her pick up the two twenties and a huge smile crossed her face. She looked up in time to see John looking in and mouthed “thank you”.

John smiled back. Everyone has a superpower, maybe this was his.

Practice, Practice and More Practice

Lately, I have been spending more time practicing my writing than working on my novel, and I can honestly say it has been for the better.  I am still moving forward on my novel by working through the structure and new ideas in my head.  Sometimes this process muddies the waters but more often it allows me to see clearly all the way down to the riverbed, but my daily practice is the driving force that will help me get through to the end.

I also read (and re-read) Joe Bunting’s book, Let’s Write a Short Story, which can be found at one of Joe’s sites The Write Practice or Let’s Write A Short Story or at Amazon.  I took the approach that I need more practice before I will be able to complete my first novel and what better way than to improve my ability to write a story.  Additionally, the confidence of completing a smaller project that must contain all of the same elements of a story will be worth any time spent away from my novel.

Practice tips are included throughout the book and after every blog post.  A morphing of several tips lead me to develop my own method for daily practice.  I chose to take at least five to ten minutes, once or twice a day, and write a descriptive passage based on an emotion, a feeling, an object, a character or any other single item I imagined.

This method of practicing frees my mind from the constraints of my current project.  These practice passages open my creative mind to new ways of approaching just about any aspect of a great story.  What’s freeing is not having to adhere to or develop a backstory or do extensive world building because these are just snippets.  The thoughts of “my character would never do that” or “that would be impossible in this world” never come into play.

And you know what the most freeing part is?  It doesn’t have to be good.  I write it and can set it aside, never to be read again.  I’ve written a few passages that I am proud of and may choose to develop.  If I can work out a full story that fits with the passage I wrote in practice perhaps I will use the piece in a completed short story or novel.  You never know.

Although I ask myself for only five or ten minutes to complete the practice, by the time I am done fifteen or thirty minutes have usually flown by.  The following passage took just over thirty minutes to write.  Other than correcting some typos and minor errors, the piece has not been edited.

If you have a few minutes I would be interested to hear your thought on my piece or how you practice your own creative pursuits in the comments below.

Dumbfounded described his sudden feelings perfectly.  Perplexed?  No that was too scientific.  Dumb.  Founded.  A wonderful juxtaposition of two words with so little in common, but his thoughts led him down a path designed to distract him.  It worked.  His mind knew him better than he knew himself.  He pulled his mind back to the situation at hand.  The predicament he found himself in could never have been predicted, at least not under the normal laws of physics.

He began to pace the room.  He pictured the great thinking minds of the world pacing or walking through a beautiful campus setting solving their problems.  With such little room to pace, he doubted the same methods would work for him here.

The sea roared below him.  At least that is what he assumed made that sound.  He had never been to the sea, so he pieced together memories of sea noise from movies and decided it matched.

The diamond shaped window sat high in the wall, emitting enough light for him to review his surroundings, but too high and far too small for an escape.  The curved walls began at the deep red wooden door and ended back at its hinges.  The black iron showed no signed of rust, in fact they appeared newly painted.  No handle or latch was visible on his side of the door, only a comically large keyhole, which made him chuckle a bit.  The infrequent yet distinct marching coming faintly through the underside of the door prevented him from peering through the hole.

Moments ago he had been in the gym locker room in Ohio.  Now the ancient stone walls, beastly wooden door and sound of the sea altered his well established understanding of reality.  Had he asked for this?  Perhaps, his mind answered him before going silent.  He was at last alone.  Truly alone.

Metal scrapping metal drew his attention back to the door.  The hinges squeaked as the door inched inward.