Archive for the ‘#NaNoWriMo’ Category

#5MinuteFiction Week 76 #NaNoWriMo Edition!

November 8, 2011

What is 5MinuteFiction, you say? It’s an adrenaline-fueled, instant-gratification sort of writing contest. Sound fun? Great! Get in there and get dirty!

The Rules

* You get five minutes to write a piece of prose or poetry in any style or genre

* You must directly address today’s prompt: Your main character encounters your world’s version of the goose that laid the golden egg. 

(Note: The prompt is above. The picture is for decoration/inspiration.)

 
 * Post your entry as a comment to this post.

I’ll close the contest at 12:45. That gives you 5 minutes to write and ten to accommodate the vagaries of relative time, technology, and the fickle internets. If you are confused or just want to whine, feel free to email me.

At the close of the contest, this week’s guest judge, Bryan Thomas Schmidt, @BryanThomasS will nominate five finalists.

I’ll put the nominees in a poll, and at 9:00 EDT tomorrow I’ll close the poll and declare the winner.

For updates, you can subscribe to my RSS Feed, “like” my Facebook Page, or follow me on twitter. Or follow us on twitter with the #5MinuteFiction hashtag.

What’s the prize? Well, usually nothing. But this week our guest judge Bryan Thomas Schmidt, @BryanThomasS will be giving an e-copy of his new book, The Worker Prince, to the winner!

A Few Notes:

* In the interest of time and formatting, it’s best to type straight into the comment box or notepad. It’s also smart to do a quick highlight and copy before you hit “post” just in case the internets decide to eat your entry. If your entry doesn’t appear right away, email me. Sometimes comments go into the suspected spam folder and I have to dig them out.

* I reserve the right to remove hate speech or similar but I’m not too picky about the other stuff.

* This is all for fun and self-promotion. So be sure to put your twitter handle at the end of your post and a link to your blog if you have one.

#5MinuteFiction Week 75 #NaNoWriMo Edition WINNER!

November 2, 2011

We have a WINNER!

As as often happens with Nicole, @nicolewolverton it was a landslide. Well, you’ve just gotta love her details and funny twists.

So congrats Nicole, you’ve won not only the competition, but a signed copy of The Prodigal’s Foole by R.B. Wood@rbwood and a 5 page critique from me!

But there were other prizes this week, right? Well, that means more WINNERS!

The winner of an e-copy of The Prodigal’s Foole is:  John Hancock, @Grokdad

And the winner of an e-copy of The The Prodigal’s Foole and a 5 page critique from me is: N.R. Brown, @nrbrown

Congrats everyone!

I’ll be in touch with the winners. In  the meantime, here’s Nicole’s winning entry for you to enjoy.

See you next week!

“But, Janet, what if something goes wrong?”

“What could go wrong?” I asked, my finger tracing the spiky cursive flowing over the page of the spell book.

Violet paled, her carefully applied blush standing out on the apples of her cheeks. “I don’t know — but when you mess witht his kind of crap, bad things happen! I heard Steve Pinner invoked some kind of demon, and a big whirling hole opened up in the middle of his kitchen and sucked his entire family in. That’s how his dad died, you know. That story about him taking off in the middle of the night was just a front.”

“Whatever. That’s a load of crap.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.” I glared at Violet, hoping to convey the fact that I wanted her to shut the hell up. It must have worked because her lips sucked closed, chin dimpling with the effort. “Okay, let’s begin.”

I read the words, paying careful attention to the accent marks and hoping I wasn’t butchering the language to badly…whatever language it was. I couldn’t be sure — I’d never seen it before, but what did I know? I was a high school senior with three years of Spanish under my belt.

The second my last syllable died away, Violet whimpered, and the dog — a tiny brown furball of a thing — darked out of the room as though I’d lit his poofy tail on fire. The air grew heavier, an almost oily breeze eddying around me. I dropped the book on the coffee table and waited.

Violet wrung her hands.

I pretzeled my arms across my chest.

Violet covered her eyes with her fingers.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot, impatient and irritated.

Ten minutes later, the living room door…well, it didn’t really fling open, so much as it exploded inward, and in its place stood — nothing.

“What the hell?”

A mouse squeak of a voice emanated from the doorjamb. “You have invoked me, Hruuglen the Demon of Small Places! How dare you disturb my rest! There will be consequences, human!”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was just a wee thing with purple skin and long black hair only two inches high.

It didn’t matter — my father tread squarely on its head on his way into the house after work. “Is your mother home?” he asked.

“No, Dad.”

He continued through the room, leaving a red-purple splotch behind.

“You’re right, Violet. Bad things happen.”

#5MinuteFiction Week 75 #NaNoWriMo Edition FINALISTS!

November 1, 2011

I loved the NaNoWriMo Editions last year, and I’m excited to see it come back around, even though NaNo is passing me by this year in a flurry of edits and revisions. Ah well. C’est la vie.

Well, enough of that. Here are our finalists!

DL Thurston, @DL_Thurston

John Hancock, @Grokdad

Corinne O’Flynn, @CorinneOFlynn

MLGammella, @MLGammella

Nicole, @nicolewolverton

Don’t forget, because we’re celebrating our guest judge’s new book, there are PRIZES! How’s this sound:

This week’s winner: Signed copy of The Prodigal’s Foole by R.B. Wood@rbwood and a 5 page critique from me.

One finalist chosen at random: E-copy of The Prodigal’s Foole

One participant chosen at random: E-copy of The The Prodigal’s Foole and a 5 page critique from me.

Congrats to our finalists! Their entries are below so read and vote if you please. Then come back tomorrow morning at 9:00 Eastern to see who wins!

DL Thurston, @DL_Thurston

I’ve seen it every day for the last month. If it started earlier than that, I can’t remember. It was hardly distinguishable from human at first, but I learned what to look for. The tell tale signs.

I tell people I’ve seen a demon, and they laugh. Religious friends think I’m making fun of them, other friends think I’m making fun of religious people. I’ve actually been to see several priests, working my way through denominations, a rabbi, an imam, even a few spiritualists and faith healers I found in the phone book. I describe what I see to them. None want to admit it’s a demon.

Funny those points that belief fades away.

I may have to start my own denomination. Demonination.

It watches me. There’s a hunger in its eyes, nasty black pinpricks that poke out from above its human eyes. I saw them first. Then the mouth, right in the thing’s neck, full of teeth that glimmer with starlight and dread. I’ve seen it open that mouth, I’ve seen right down inside. I know what it has planned for me if I can’t get away from it.

Last night it started whispering to me as I tried to sleep. Horrible words in a horrible language. I don’t know what it is saying. But I know what it means.

I don’t think I’ll be sleeping anymore.

My last chance it to confront it. There, where I always see it. Face it down, let the whole thing end, let it be either it or me.

And so I go to my mirror.

John Hancock, @Grokdad

Your main character encounters a demon. Turn left 8 paces.

prompt: invesigate left hallway. what do I see?

You see corpses.

prompt: human corpses?

Yes.

prompt: Has the demon killed them?

Be more specific.

prompt. crap.

I don’t understand.

prompt: never mind, ok, is the demon moving?

Yes. He is chewing on your left foot.

prompt: Damn!

Probably.

Prompt: What happens if I stab the demon with my magic dagger?

There are no magic daggers.

Prompt: no, I have one right here.

You have no magic daggers.

Prompt: what happened to my magic dagger?

The demon ate it.

Prompt: I attack with any weapon.

The demon is now eating your right foot.

Prompt: I run away! quickly!

You have no feet. You cannot run.

Prompt: I scream loudly!

No one hears you but the demon, and he seems very invigorated by your screaming.

Prompt: How do I get out this?

You don’t. this is hell. You don’t get out.

Prompt: but… but…

haha. and here you thought this was a computer game.

Prompt: who are you?

I’m the demon.

Corinne O’Flynn, @CorinneOFlynn

Wavy hid behind the trees as she approached. She could tell that there was something more wrong with the boy, beyond the apparent injury that knocked him unconscious. He was witch, she could sense that about him without a problem, but there was something more, something darker.

She sat next to him in the dirt on the bank of the river. His breathing was steady, his pulse strong. She leaned down into his hair and breathed in his scent. Yes, definitely a witch. But there was something else here.

She looked at his face, so peaceful is sleep. Then she touched his cheek. His eyes shot open and she knew instantly what that other thing was: a demon.

Wavy raised her hand to utter the protection charm, but the boy threw himself upon her, sitting on her chest and covering her mouth. She cursed herself for neglecting her mental work. Aunt Pea would kill her if she died because she was unable to produce magic with her mind alone.

“I need to speak to Amber McClintock,” he said. His voice was deep and raspy, the voice of the devil. Whoever was speaking through this boy was not of this world.

Wavy wanted to nod or signal her willingness to help him, anything to get him off of her chest. She could barely breath.

Then she saw what he held in his free hand and it froze that though before it turned into action. Her had her dead mother’s locket.

MLGammella, @MLGammella

Alana was terrified as she stared at the demon that stood on her front step. First the whispers and the man following her and now this? What could she have possibly done to deserve what was happening to her? Sure, David explained a bit about what her family was and what they represented but she never expected this.

“What do you want from me?” she cried out weakly.

“Your life and all the life you can create,” the demon uttered, its voice deep and gravely.

Alana took a step back and grasped her spiral pendant tightly. It had no effect on the demon. She looked wildly around for anything to defend herself against the creature, but to no avail.

The demon stood just outside the door, waiting for something it seemed, but she had no idea what. Suddenly, the house began to shake, slowly at first but with increasing vigor. Alana had no idea what to make of this latest development until she heard the cracking of wood.

The door frames and window sills with the engraved shepherds crooks were starting to splinter and shatter, destroying the protection they offered. The demon smiled and finally stepped through the threshold.

“Your guardian cannot help you now,” it said.

Nicole, @nicolewolverton

“But, Janet, what if something goes wrong?”

“What could go wrong?” I asked, my finger tracing the spiky cursive flowing over the page of the spell book.

Violet paled, her carefully applied blush standing out on the apples of her cheeks. “I don’t know — but when you mess witht his kind of crap, bad things happen! I heard Steve Pinner invoked some kind of demon, and a big whirling hole opened up in the middle of his kitchen and sucked his entire family in. That’s how his dad died, you know. That story about him taking off in the middle of the night was just a front.”

“Whatever. That’s a load of crap.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.” I glared at Violet, hoping to convey the fact that I wanted her to shut the hell up. It must have worked because her lips sucked closed, chin dimpling with the effort. “Okay, let’s begin.”

I read the words, paying careful attention to the accent marks and hoping I wasn’t butchering the language to badly…whatever language it was. I couldn’t be sure — I’d never seen it before, but what did I know? I was a high school senior with three years of Spanish under my belt.

The second my last syllable died away, Violet whimpered, and the dog — a tiny brown furball of a thing — darked out of the room as though I’d lit his poofy tail on fire. The air grew heavier, an almost oily breeze eddying around me. I dropped the book on the coffee table and waited.

Violet wrung her hands.

I pretzeled my arms across my chest.

Violet covered her eyes with her fingers.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot, impatient and irritated.

Ten minutes later, the living room door…well, it didn’t really fling open, so much as it exploded inward, and in its place stood — nothing.

“What the hell?”

A mouse squeak of a voice emanated from the doorjamb. “You have invoked me, Hruuglen the Demon of Small Places! How dare you disturb my rest! There will be consequences, human!”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was just a wee thing with purple skin and long black hair only two inches high.

It didn’t matter — my father tread squarely on its head on his way into the house after work. “Is your mother home?” he asked.

“No, Dad.”

He continued through the room, leaving a red-purple splotch behind.

“You’re right, Violet. Bad things happen.”

[poll id=”75″]

 

#5MinuteFiction #NaNoWriMo Edition Week 5 WINNER!

November 30, 2010

Well who knew what the outcome of this one would be? I sure didn’t. Crazy man. Crazy. Just shows what great writing comes out of these people, each and every week. They’re heroes, that’s what they are. Pure writing heroes.

Of course, one of them is better than the others… at least this week. 😉 And this week is was Lilith Katz, @AlcyoneAlchemy. Yay! Horray! You’re on your way!

Big round of applause for this winning entry, and from a new victim… I mean fantastic writer at that. Congratulations, and may you go on to greatness and remember us when you’re a billionaire author.

Here’s her winning entry. Enjoy.

‘But my fingers are bleeding’ Taslu whimpered, unable to raise her head where it hung inches from the old fashioned metal typewriter. The letters & numbers were worn off the keys, the levers and cogs inside dirty and cobwebbed, but also dripping in dried, congealing and fresh blood; he’d forced her here, hour upon hour, day after day, to write for the last 30 days.

‘Type it, type ‘The End”, he calmly and quietly instructed.

She didn’t know if any of it would make sense to anyone, it certainly didn’t make any sense to her anymore. Her mind was a jumble of confused feelings, but mostly no feelings at all as she felt broken and empty; he had taken everything from her when he stole her from her home & locked her here in this dark place with only his voice, not even his face, for company.

Would he free her now that it was finished? She didn’t know and she didn’t care. She belonged to him now to do with what he wished, she was devoid of desire for anything but for the writing to stop; and with that, she typed with shaking, cold & blood streaked fingers, ‘The End’.

#5MinuteFiction #NaNoWriMo Edition Week 5 FINALISTS!

November 30, 2010

Richard Wood, @rbwood, is really fast. I’d barely wiped my brow at having finished my 5MinuteFiction entry than he was sending me the list of finalists. Wow.

And thus here they are. I thought this was a fun prompt considering the day. Though, I must admit, I gave up on NaNo in the first half of the month. Now, I want to say I have a pretty good reason (it’s a cool reason, that I hope to share with you soon) but, well, I’m also a bit of a procrastinator…

But that’s beside the point. These are the finalist:

Paul Freeman, @PolFreeman

Aisling Weaver, @AislingWeaver

R.C. Murphy, @RCMurphy

Tauisha Smith, @shells2003

Lilith Katz, @AlcyoneAlchemy

Now, read these fabulous entries and get to voting. Winner’s announced at 9:45ish tonight. Assuming I don’t fall asleep like I did last week…

Aisling Weaver, @AislingWeaver

“This is weird.”
I looked up from my laptop to find Lex leaning in the archway to the living room, a strange expression darkening her features.
“What is?” I asked. She crossed to sit on the couch next to me.
“I’m used to seeing you captive to your paintbrush, Kelle, but writing?” She slid the back of her fingers along my cheek, eyes searching mine.
“It’s catharsis,” I whispered. She frowned and I turned the screen towards her, letting her read the dedication, watching as her lips parted at the import, then scrolled to the end and let her read the last sentence.
“Oh, Kelle,” she breathed, sliding her arm around my shoulders, tucking me against her. I set the computer aside and burrowed into her.
“I know I’ve kinda disappeared over the last month, but I had to get it all out,” I said, pursing my lips against the pulse fluttering against her skin. “It helped,” I added, lifting my eyes to meet hers.
Lex cupped my face in her hands. “I’m glad,” she said, leaning in to press her lips to mine ever so tenderly. “Do you want to do anything with it?” she asked and I blinked, the rush of blood to my nerves distracting me from her words.
“I don’t know yet.” I leaned into her, seeking her lips again, and she chuckled.
“Something tells me you’re distracted,” she murmured against my lips and I chuckled.
“You could say that.” A month of nothing but writing and dredging up a decade of old baggage. I craved her touch, her kiss, her fuck. “Take me, Lex,” I begged, “make me yours.”
“Always, baby,” she answered, tugging me into her lap, letting her kiss take the sharp edge I’d come to need. “And you’ve always been mine.”

Lilith Katz, @AlcyoneAlchemy

‘But my fingers are bleeding’ Taslu whimpered, unable to raise her head where it hung inches from the old fashioned metal typewriter. The letters & numbers were worn off the keys, the levers and cogs inside dirty and cobwebbed, but also dripping in dried, congealing and fresh blood; he’d forced her here, hour upon hour, day after day, to write for the last 30 days.

‘Type it, type ‘The End”, he calmly and quietly instructed.

She didn’t know if any of it would make sense to anyone, it certainly didn’t make any sense to her anymore. Her mind was a jumble of confused feelings, but mostly no feelings at all as she felt broken and empty; he had taken everything from her when he stole her from her home & locked her here in this dark place with only his voice, not even his face, for company.

Would he free her now that it was finished? She didn’t know and she didn’t care. She belonged to him now to do with what he wished, she was devoid of desire for anything but for the writing to stop; and with that, she typed with shaking, cold & blood streaked fingers, ‘The End’.

R.C. Murphy, @RCMurphy

“Your deadline is the first,” the voice on the phone said.

“The first of the year, right?” Alex’s fingers tightened on the receiver. Please let it be January or even February. Heck, July was more feasible.

“December first, Alex. We’ve been waiting for the new manuscript for months. I loved the outline you sent, but there’s been nothing since. Is everything okay?” Her voice sounded wary. It usually did when she was afraid that Alex wasn’t going to produce another novel.

Was everything okay, though? Alex looked away from the wall she’d been staring at. Her house guest was right where she’d left him, reclining on the couch. His green hair caught the light from the desk lamp, shimmering like dew on a pine tree. No, she decided, everything wasn’t okay. Not so long as a demon was holed up in her house.

A demon that ate almost every word she wrote.

“I, ah, I don’t think I can write a whole novel in a month, Carrie.” Alex admitted and cringed when she realized her slip.

“You haven’t even started on it? Alex, I have to have something by the first or the contract will be voided.”

Alex looked at the calendar. She had thirty days to write a novel. All while Titivillus was trying to destroy her work. “I’ll do my best.”

“What was that about, chickie?” Titivillus frowned, picking up her frustration as the phone slammed back in its charger.

“Looks like we’re going back to work.” She rolled her chair back to her desk and pulled up the file that only contained two words, the title of her new novel.

“Oh goody!” A large bag appeared in his hand as the demon skipped over and took up his spot on the floor next to the desk. “Use some big ones, I’m feeling peckish.”

Paul Freeman, @PolFreeman

“Ah Jaysus! are you just going to ignore me?”

“I’ll be with ye in a sec.”

“What’s going on here, we never communicate anymore, we barely even talk to each other.”

“I’ll talk to ye in a minute, I just need to finish this.”

“Yeah right, I could stand here with my tits hanging out and you wouldn’t even notice.”

“Sure I would.”

“Can you not even look up from that stupid computer while we are fighting.”

“We’re fighting?”

“Look at me for fuck sake!”

“Please just let me finish this chapter and I’ll do whatever you want.”

“It’s too late for us, I’m walking out that door and I’m going to a bar and I’m going to fuck the brains out of the first guy who buys me a drink. What do you think of that. I’ll bet he’ll be a better fuck than you.”

“Hm hm, nearly finished.”

“I want a man who’ll appreciate me, one who’ll look after my needs. Take me to dinner, buy me flowers and presents. I want a man who knows how to give me an orgasm, is that too much to ask?”

“I’ll do what ever you want, I just have to get this book finished in a month.”

“You and you’re stupid bloody book. Look at me, I’m gasping for it, I’m not even going to wait to get to the bar. The first man I see can have me.”

“Nearly finished.”

“Oh go fuck off. That’s it, I’m going.”

“Sorry, dear, nearly finished. What were you saying?”

Tauisha Smith, @shells2003

It wasn’t easy, but she’d finally did it. And after reading the last sentence, she smiled. Her story was complete. Took her thirty days, but she’d finally done it.

Michelle wrote about what happened to her over ten years ago. Ok, so Adrian doesn’t know why she couldn’t make it to the train station to elope with him…

“Well, he will now,” she smiled.

“Know what?” Novia called from her placed curled up on the sofa with her laptop.

“You know that nanowrimo thing I was telling you about?” she asked.

“Yeah. You never told me what you were writing about,” Novia responded.

“It’s the story about us. Where we’ve been, what we’ve done this las decade,” Michelle sighed. “Adrian wouldn’t listen to me and understand the reasons why I never came to meet him. Well, now the world will know.”

She entered her words, all 70,000 of them into the win box on the website and submitted them. She felt more than a winner for doing this. But, not only did she submit it to the writing contest, she also sent them in an email to Adrian. She managed to get his email address from off a business card he gave to Novia.

After pressing send in her email, she muttered, “And now…so will he.”

Novia shot up, nearly dropping her laptop. “What!”

She ran over, looking over Michelle’s shoulder. “You didn’t! You couldn’t!”

“I could, and I did,” she sighed.

“B-b-but, why? Why did you do it?”

Michelle shrugged. “Well, he needed an explanation, and I needed to get it out. Writing it all down has really shown me how crazy I was all those years ago to let him leave without me. Sure, my parents threatened to disown me. But, in the end, not only did I lose them anyway, I lost him.”

Novia rubbed her friend’s shoulder comfortingly. “So, he needed the story. He needed my teenage reasoning. But most importantly…”

A lone tear escaped from Michelle’s eye. She tried to wipe it away with an unsteady hand. Sighing, she finished, “He needed to know that I did love him…that I still love him. Ten years could never change that.”

Novia nodded. “And if he doesn’t forgive you?”

Michelle shrugged. “Didn’t ask for his forgiveness. Why, when I can’t even forgive myself? Our happiness shattered…and all because I was too young to deal with love. I can now…but much too late.”

Sighing, she stood and went to her room to be alone.

[poll id=”32″]