The last Flash fiction contest was a tough one. All of the entries were incredible, the winning one below was wonderful.

The five words were based on a novel of the battle for Britain. The air war specifically.

blitz
tube
blackout
finest
hour

(5) Amy Schaefer 3:37pm

I stumbled along the frozen path. Mother nudged me onwards, hours becoming days as we fled the cacophony of bloody death. Exhausted, sick on rotten tubers – still everyone limped on. The news blackout was meaningless; the war filled our world.

“Halt!”

The nightmare shapes of the Easter 101st Rutting Finest leapt from the shadows. I shrank back from their infamous pink-and-purple Egg eyepatches. Had they really each sacrificed an eye to the Bunny?

Blitzen stepped forward. “There’s no ransom here. Santa won’t bargain.”

“The Pole fell two days ago.” The three-stripe bunny flashed sharpened teeth. “And we’re having venison tonight.”

I loved the duality of dichotomies in her lines. "There's no ransom here. Santa won't bargain."

I submitted on that was based on the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, to a degree.

     “Finest gal” sailed towards the dance, wearing nothing save her threadbare jib. Duluth had broadcast a report of rogue waves running westerly, before an untimely radio blackout.

    

     Taking the worn canvas sea anchor from its tube, he rigged it to the bow. The old ketch hove to, as he anticipated the blitzkrieg of three- thirty-five foot waves.

     He thought of the Edmund Fitzgerald’s crew in the murky graveyard below.  “Finest gal’s” bow knifed through the first of the three sisters*.

          “Does anyone know where the love of God goes, when the waves turn the minutes to hours?”* He thought, smiling.

* Lyrics by Gordon Lightfoot.

*”Three sisters” Nautical term re: Lake Superior

I am happy with her acknowledgement, once again. I will improve my writing one line at a time.  

Special recognition for entries with a great line or lines:

"Finest Gal sailed towards the dance, wearing nothing save her threadbare jib"

french sojourn 9:31am

Cheers Hank

Twice is nice Alafair Burke writing contest results!

Latest results for Janet Reid Flash fiction contest.

I exchanged my entry and went a little odd with a art critics entry. A rather festive entry, but what the hay? A little crass, O.K. a lot of crass, but fun.

Dear Pete Kotz;

Interim Editor @ Village Voice;

        I attended Hans Schuler’s premier art exhibit "SELF- a portrait in radical introspective" last night…. believe me; it will be his…. "last night".

       Someone compared him to some lily livered icon….and I answered;

"Darling he's more like HandyWhorehole…..Heavens!"

   

     Appropriately held at the new “Highline” Gallery.

  

      I chatted briefly with the creature running the exhibit, Alice Humphrey. You can double kiss her career goodbye.

    Sandra Pak over at Ch.7said; and I quote “"Blood, Saliva, and nudity,"

    Reminds me, make plans for tonight.

    Miss this one kiddies;

   Hated it!.....

   Your favorite art critic;

   Jersey


A little recognition, but beggars can't be choosers. Really enjoy the exercises in creativity. She has warned us of another in a couple days.

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Twice is nice Alafair Burke writing contest results!

Some terrific entries on this contest!

Special recognition for entries that were about LONG GONE!

Curt David 11:55am

french sojourn 4:32pm

Cheers Hank.

Twice Is Nice Writing Contest!

      I have written for a few Janet Reid Flash Fiction contests lately. It's fun and a good exercise for writing, below are my three latest that i submitted for the contest.

Twice Is Nice Writing Contest!

I bought a copy of LONG GONE by Alafair Burke last year at Murder by the Book in Houston while I was there for Stephanie Jaye Evans book launch.

Use these words in the story:

art
jersey
lily
double
kiss

Well it starts in 6 hours, so I may revise my entry considerably, but here is one I'm working on.

Alice Humphrey was livid; she had pulled off the art opening from hell that should have been a kiss of death for any curator’s career.  The artist, Hans Schuler; was a no talent throw pillow from New Jersey.

 Alice had closed the gallery, and was sharing a couple glasses of Pinot with her friend Lily. Alice showed her next week’s opening announcement; Antonio Jacobsen; The Audubon of Steamships.

 But she still dwelled on Hans.

“That hack is a genius, selling an unlimited run of prints for $700 each.”

“For all the unwashed….. then double timing it to the bank.”

“Exactly!”

This is based on the book "Long gone", but doesn't really tell a captivating story. meh! I have to go take a run to the deschetteri, "dump", and then start a burn pile in one of our prairies. I think I will rethink my entry....considerably.


June 25th 2013;
Announcing the   

Kill Kari Dell (with words!) Writing Contest!

Write a story with 100 words or fewer.  Use the following words in the story:

kill
dell
plot
sheep
codswollop codswallop

The results, not a winner but noted by her which is always nice.


These weren't exactly stories, but they were compelling!

frenchsojourn 1:48pm

“Gorblimey!”
“Why would God do that, Ciril?”
“We gotta kill this bird, Kari Dell; verbally?”
“You erd em.”
“She in the nutter?”
“Nah, next plot over, the Sheep Rodeo Palace.”
“Ropey name for a fancy hotel.”
“Ciril, you thinking they shoulda called you first?”
“For what?”
“Namin’ it, you tosser. You look manky, I’ll go in.”
“At least I don’t smell like bait.”
“Zip it Ciril, it was part of the initiation.”
“Churlish prat!”
“Don’t botch this job, and you’re in too.”
“Slapped in the puss with a mackerel?”
“Codswallopped , you twit.”
“Where is she?”
“We said Monday, right?”

I was trying for the feel of the movie- :Snatch"


July 19th 2013;

Writing contest!

All those books from ThrillerFest need a new home so it's time for a writing contest!

This week, let's celebrate Mike Cooper's FULL RATCHET (and the great opening scene I talked about yesterday!) with a contest.

Usual rules:  Write a story using 100 words or fewer.

Include these words in the story:

Coop
Claw
Ratchet
Full
Back

So I toyed with this entry:

“Ahh crap, I hate that fuckin sound.” Vinnie muttered as he ducked into the Pawn shops dark entryway. He squinted at the angled storefront’s reflection and confirmed his hunch. Behind him a beat up old Caddy drove by, with its trademark whine from the broken power steering.

          “Ha, Petrov’s sending Ratchet and Clank in their rusty chicken coop-de-ville. Said two weeks…. I’ll pay him back in full alright.”

          He walked into the pawn shop with his last twenty.

“Got any hammers?” Vinnie asked.

“Couple ball peens.”                                                          

“Nah’ framing hammer, straight claw.”

“Got one… kinda rusty.”

“Even better…. I’ll take it.”

And the results were....not a winner but a mention. Which truth be told just keeps me doing it for my own improvement.

Friday, July 26, 2013

Writing contest results

It took me a while to read all the entries for the FULL RATCHET writing contest mostly cause you guys are starting to scare the bejeebers out of me! 

Special recognition for a great line or three:

Ha, Petrov’s sending Ratchet and Clank in their rusty chicken coop-de-ville

french sojourn 9:00am

Anyway, thats an update as to my writing status. I am trying like hell to get "Port Templar" finished up so I can take it to Saskia's home for christmas. We are flying to L.A. for the holidays and I want to have her reading group review the manuscript. Sounds so poser-ish calling it that.

Cheers Hank

Honing a Query Letter

     The Query Letter process is an interesting step in trying to entice Literary Agents in your manuscript. (m/s) Ideally they should be in the region of 250 words. A Query introduces the overall story, in an abridged manner. The Query should describe character, conflict, options, plot, and do so in a voice that illustrates the writers ability.  The story I'm trying to finish up is Port Templar. Below are three different Query's. (Of probably 30 different approaches.) Any thoughts? 

Query one: Telephone message.

        

 “Come on dad, be home……

Come on…

Dammit!...……

Hey Dad you there…..pick up…it’s me…

Hey dad, ah… Christ, I’m sorry to leave this on your cell phone….

Dad, I know the last sixteen years have been hell…. for both of us…I just found proof that Lonnie didn't kill Sheriff Cranston.

          Dad,…Lonnie’s alive and I know where he is…..I’m going to get him, but I gotta go now.

          You warned me Port Templar was dark, real dark. Remember?

          I've been Sheriff now for six years, and I’m just finding out the crap that’s been hidden around here.

Dad it’s complicated and doesn't sound real…..but listen…remember the wreck of the Templar back in 1888?...

It had that missing lifeboat with the Captain and the Chief Engineer and their crews. They were lost…well they weren't  They landed on that island,… the bird sanctuary one……Mac..ah… Mackinaw Island.

                    That night they found shelter in a deep cavern…and woke up sixteen years later…..Doc says it’s because of dense formations sulfide mixed with hydrogen from the cavern… once they awake they’re good for about a year then they have to hibernate for another sixteen years….shit it sounds insane….if they don’t hibernate all the years spent sleeping catches up with them.

          Dad, they've been leapfrogging thru time.

          The Captain made a ton of money thru investments, and compounded interest on his bank accounts. He’s real bad news dad, He’s got Lonnie. He’s had people killed….he’s trying to force history to his way of thinking.

          The Chief Engineer, David and his crew, have been trying to stop him.

          Dad…..I’m going to get my little brother back, but I hope I won’t be coming back.

          I love you, be strong like you taught me…”

          Sheriff Carlyle hangs up the phone, thinks about David and smiles briefly. Then glares out the window and knows that nothing, absolutely nothing will stop her




Query Two. with a Maine accent.

My name’s Gubby… I run the garage up ta Port Templar. She’s a gorgeous Maine town that’s got everything; lobstah rolls, steamers, even sells lobstah magnets to them damn tourists.

Port Templar’s named after this steamship that got caught in a Nor-eastah back in 1891. She run aground and hove to… then the tide took her to the ledges. And good Christ did them rocks have at her…oh don’t worry none… all them folks lived.

          One of them lifeboats landed on an island, and they took shelter in a deep cavern. Odd thing is they woke up 14 years later….like that Van Rimple fella.

          I guess they’re awake for a year, then they have to go back down to that Godforsaken cavern to sleep for another 14 years. Why if they don’t, all them years catch up.

It’s like they’re leapfrogging thru time.

          The Captain of the Templar; Buchanan…. he’s a wicked… vicious….well let’s just say I don’t imagine he knew who to send a father’s day card to…if you catch my drift.

Buchanan’s been investing a lot of money over time and made a bundle.  He’s gotten tired of the course history’s been charting and wants to steer it himself. He’s even hired mercenaries; why he had that other Kennedy brother killed and Martin Luther King Jr too.

The Chief Engineer; David… now he’s a decent fella. He’s been tryin to stop Buchanan, but he’s in a jam. You see Buchanan had all David’s men killed in their sleep, that’s the kinda dog he is.

           Ain’t much time, so us locals are going to help David.

 If we stop Buchanan; David’s going to have to return alone to that chamber.

           Now I seen David making eyes at our Sheriff.

 Let me tell ya; Sheriff Carlyle is… one… tough… cookie.

 But then again; she ain’t exactly been looking away from him neither.”

Query Three, latest concept, still needs honing.

Sheriff Tess Carlyle is in a bind; seems she’s finally met Mr. Wright.

David Krieger-Wright is the problem; he’s 145 years old and was The Templar’s former Chief Engineer.

The Steamship Templar ran aground during a Nor’easter back in 1891.All the passengers and most of the crew got safely off the wreck and made it to shore. The rest of the crew managed to beach a leaking lifeboat on a nearby island. They slept in a cavern and awoke fourteen years later. They’re conscious for a year, but then they have to return to the cavern and repeat the fourteen year hibernation cycle. If they don’t; all the years they slept, catch up with them.

They’re leapfrogging through time.

David has a problem, well two actually. He loves Tess, and his Captain is trying to kill him.

The Templar’s Captain; Buchanan, has hired mercenaries and had David’s crew murdered in their sleep. Buchanan has made a bundle through long term investments. He uses that wealth to assassinate influential politicians who he feels are counter to his beliefs.

David and Tess, along with some locals plan to stop Buchanan from directing the course he thinks history should take.

          Neither Tess nor David know how to tell each other they want to make this time travel romance work.

          At least David doesn't have to worry about how to tell her; he’s killed during the assault to stop Buchanan.

Tess is inconsolable, but there might be an option. A small trespass in the fabric of time might get them back together. She could go to his chamber and gamble on leapfrogging forward through time. Maybe somewhere in the future she could fund the fabrication of a time travel machine, and save him.

She would then have to return alone; in her time travel machine.

But it would allow Tess and David another chance to be together.  

          Either way, Tess has a long journey alone.

Need to really, really re-work that last paragraph. Sounds like a mouthful of sand. It's hard to condense alternate time lines into two or three sentence's. Anyway, so much for being in the 250 word neighborhood, I'm not even in the same f-ing state.

Anyway, if I gave you a headache reading this, my apologies.

Cheers!

Port Templar- Status

     For the last three years I have written my Blog: French Sojourn. It is the chronicling of our lives, from selling our house in California and the move to Southwest France. A majority of the observations deal with the interactions with our new community, and the renovation of the 100 year old farmhouse. 
      I have always really enjoyed writing, although not having really any formal schooling in it. Yeah, I had the high school stuff, then went on to study Architecture. My career was in the supervision of mega estates in Los Angeles. (Malibu, Brentwood, and Beverly Hills)
      In my spare time I have been working on a story for the last few years.  The first two years I had written 23,000 words....snails pace. This last year it started to pick up, I was up to 40,000. That was quite a few months ago. Lately the story has been really easy to tie together. 
     Overall, the premise was a difficult one, then the characters had a mutiny and I started letting them react to obstacles. Then I started polishing up my query letter and discovered a voice, not there before. I mentioned Query Shark previously, Janet Reid's blog on...you guessed it Query Letters. 
     So armed with this, (I was up to 55,000 words) I re-evaluated the plot and characters involved and had a clean house. I went back, reworked the opening. I eliminated about 10,000 words, and returned to go. I was real fortunate as I have the beginning  middle, and ending all charted out.
     I'm now at 83,000 words out of 93,000-96,000 words completed. I have all the interactions charted, and list of characters. ( 29 people at last count, all levels, there are probably 10 main ones, 8 mid level and the others are background depth.) 
     I'm shooting to have it finished within three months. After having incorporated the six beta readers input  while I am going over it with a fine tooth comb. (printed and marked up again) 
     If all goes as planned I want to send out one query letter. 
     It's all conjecture at this point, but I honestly feel it's a fun story
 that a reader would enjoy.
      Possibly next month I will post an excerpt from it.

     Cheers Hank 

Update; I sent out the Query Letter to Query shark, it will be interesting to see if there any nibbles.

     Here's a few more 100 word exercises. I try to think of a situation and then capture it's essence, then trim it down.

I think I also post these to get in the habit of letting what I write, be seen.

As opposed to be obscene?

Example 5:

As the shadows grow longer in my life, I still remember that summer night.

It was my second season at the Catskills, and I had my first line to say. I must have written it 70 times, and said it 300 times aloud.

I was edgy, but I nailed it, clear voice, eyes bright and strong posture. It was magic.

“Hello my name is Oliver; I will be refilling your water glasses this evening.”

Time passes, memories cloud, but I still can feel the electricity of that night.

Why I bet there wasn't a dry mouth in the house.

Example 6:

“Heads up Tommy, that car ain’t got its lights on."

“Yeah, I see it.”

“Good Christ I knew it.”  He dials a number on his cell. "It’s Junior, behind yah… turn your goddamn headlights on, and turn that fuckin music down, you been drinkin?..... You’re drivin like a school of mackerel ….you get that alignment done like I said?”

“She drinkin?”

“Shut up….No, not you!…Some Maine trooper pulls you over, your probation officers gonna hear about it, you know?

“She goin too?”

“Shut up,…… You goin to happy hour at Rusty’s?”

“She goin?”

“Just drive, ……O.K. see ya there Ma.”

Example 7:

Nika and Mir, her reeker rat reached the rocks.

The reports of five shots echoed.

“Ha, gonna take more than that to stop a sand shark.”

She opened her rucksack and took out the gel pack claymore, then placed it in the sand.

Mir raced around her, scenting the sand.

Nika patted the sand five times and the sand shark approached.

She placed her hand in the shark’s secondary mouth and calmed the shark.

With her right hand she activated the gel cap, the shark although placated by Nika’s pulse knew she was trapped as the gel coat took hold.

     Anyway, this is what I do for fun. Cheers Hank

      Since I am in the final stages of the old French farmhouse renovation, I have time to work on dialog while working. I am plastering right now so I create small bits of dialog, while troweling. Then when I take a break I go to my laptop and write them down, and trim them to 100 words, like a flash fiction contest. It's kind of like mental gymnastics. 

     Below are four recent examples, just for a laugh. I have to consider these exercises as work, if I am to improve my untutored writing.


Sample One:

“Patrolman Vincenzo, callbox k-12……

“Hey Penny it’s Vinnie…. send a meatwagon to Madam Changs, found Sully,,,Detective Sullivan.”

“Nah, lead poisoning, both barrels. A guy working second floor at the nookie factory chased me down.”

“No eyewitnesses. “

“Yeah, probably…..I said to him…”Sully what you said was wrong, askin the ma if she wanted him well done or charred.”

“Yeah, write it up. I’ll be back in an hour.”

He heard the old rusty Dodge sedan parked in the alley start up and drive towards him slowly.

The old lady in the back wearing black, was it Sacco’s or Vanzetti’s ma?”

Ferdinando Nicola Sacco (April 22, 1891 – August 23, 1927) and Bartolomeo Vanzetti (June 11, 1888 – August 23, 1927

Sample Two:

“Tommy, whatta we got?”

“Body on the bank, lead poisoning. Our boys on the launch; fishing with a hook line.”

“Whats Lulu doin here Tommy?”

“Witness, waitin for you.”

“Tommy I know your old man took off and yer ma died that winter, and Lulu raised you and your kid sister, but she’s hard now. You know how she made her money.”

“Nah, she’s got a good heart.”

“Tommy look at her with your eyes, not your heart, she’s filing her nails while they’re draggin the lake. Gimme your piece and your plant gun….”

Blam! Blam

“Lulu?”

Blam! Blam!

“Sorry Tommy”.

Excerpt from Watching The Detectives. Elvis Costello

Sample Three:

“Did I tell you my son wants to be a writer?, why he’s got a way with words.”

            “No, he’s got away with crime…all his life.”

            “Oh, he’s sharp.”

            “He comes from grifters; all you write is bad checks. He ain’t the next Frank Hemingway.”

            “Ah..Ernest”

            “If a man’s Ernest, he’s gotta be frank. Anyway how’s he gonna write “A clean well-lighted place” in a dark dank six by six cold concrete cell? By the time he’s out of the penitentiary, he’ll be an old man; maybe he could go fishin and write about that. Like that Frank did.”

            “Ernest”

        

Sample Four:

            “Hey Albert, you heard Doreen took off with my brother, Charlie.”

            “Yep, she always was practical.”

            “How do you mean.”

            “Well, she’ll still use your grandma’s ring, and the weddin plates, same last initial.”

            “Guess I never thought of that.”

            “Well, brighten up, she got the itchy mattress sickness.”

            “How’s that supposed to help me.”

            “Well, the only other guy in town with the same first initial in his last name is Lonnie, the bag boy over ta Stop and Shop.”

            “What about it?”

            “Whats your son’s name?”

            “Lonnie; after my grandpa.”

            “Think about it.”

“She always was practical.”