Reminder - You can follow along with all of the bout results right HERE, and remember, the bouts stay open for one week and some of the first weeks are still live.
Today begins the final week of WRiTE CLUB first-round bouts and the last opportunity for ten new contestants to step into the ring. The battles so far have been fierce and tightly contested and this week will be more of the same. Best of luck to everyone.
Here's a refresher of what's going on, in case you forgot how things work here.
Weeks ago the submission window opened for this year's contest where we asked anybody wishing to participate to submit a 500-word writing sample – using a pen name. The sample can be from any genre, flash fiction or something from a larger piece of work, basically, anything goes except that it cannot have been previously published or posted on the internet. All of the rules regarding how to submit can be found here. After the submission period closed, we had fifteen judges (we call them our slush pile readers) read all 181 submissions from 132 writers and once all the ballots were total we narrowed the 181 down to the 30 that will be stepping into the ring over the course of the next three weeks. Today is the first of those bouts.
How this works – two anonymous (pen name only) writing samples step into the ring. Visitors to this blog (that’s you) read both entries and vote for the one that resonates the most with you. We ask that you leave a brief critique for both writers with your vote because that is one of the real values of this contest – FEEDBACK. Please be respectful with your remarks!
Even though there will be a different bout every day (M-F), the voting for each bout will remain open for seven days from the date it is posted to give as many people as possible to have a say. The voting for today’s bout will close on Sunday, May 6th (noon central time).
It’s that simple. The piece that garnishes the most votes moves on to the next round where they’ll face a different opponent. Using a tournament style format, the 30 contestants will be whittled down to just 2, and the winner of that final bout will be announced at the DFW Writers Conference in Hurst TX June 9-10.
In case of a tie, I’m the deciding vote. I can do that because, like all of you, I do not know the real names of our contestants either (my wife processes all the submissions).
Oh yeah – for every bout that you vote in, your name (see rule #2 below) will be placed into a hat for a chance for a $40 Barnes and Noble Gift card that will be drawn after the contest concludes.
A few rules –
1) One vote per visitor per bout.
2) Although our contestants are anonymous, voters cannot be. Anonymous votes will not count, so if you do not have a Google account and are voting as a guest, be sure to include your name and email address.
3)Using any method (email, social media, text, etc) to solicit votes for a specific contestant will result in that contestant's immediate disqualification. It’s perfectly okay, in fact, it is encouraged to spread the word about the contest to get more people to vote, just not for a specific writer!
That’s enough jibber-jabber…like the man say’s –
In the far corner, we have FoundMissing representing the Suspense genre.
HALLOW ROAD
It was a game he used to play with his wife, back when she was still around. They’d walk the neighborhood with Sir Lancelot, their regal Chow Chow with its blue-black tongue and lionlike looks. They’d create stories of what was going on behind closed doors. Lori developed the narrative, having spent her youth in this neighborhood and knowing the history behind some of its houses. Liam provided the dialog—male and female voices.
Especially in the evening, when houselights hinted at which rooms were in use.
The genre shifted as the houses changed—a sitcom where a family sat for dinner; romance when the upstairs lights dimmed; and mystery when the windows were dark, yet the door sat open. For Liam, every house represented a romantic comedy. But Lori’s narrative often veered off into dark corners, blind alleys, and serpentine pathways.
The night she crafted the story of a dark affair as they walked by Nils Eriksson’s house, Liam didn’t chime in with dialog. He wondered, instead, about the excitement in Lori’s voice. Anticipation, even.
The sexy Swede with a confident swagger grew tired of his wife’s so-called business trips. He took a younger lover—
“How much younger?” Liam interrupted.
Lori shrugged. “Five years, let’s say.”
Lori was five years younger than Nils Eriksson.
She continued her tale, lingering, letting Sir Lancelot smell every bush near the Eriksson’s Saab.
He and his lover grew bolder, unable to stay away from one another. Even when his wife was in town. They found places—the back seat, the park, the library, once. Places his wife would never—
“What about the lover’s husband?”
Lori smiled, playfully tapped Liam in his chest. “You’re changing our game.”
Her impish grin was too much for Liam. Was she the co-star in her own story? This was her way of confessing?
Two evenings later, Lori added another chapter in front of Nils’ brick home.
His wife returned early from a business trip and discovered the lovers on the back porch. Devastated her. As one last act of revenge, she vowed to expose the woman who stole her man. She’d find the woman’s husband. She’d—
“Nils’ wife has a name,” Liam said. “Ana.”
Lori looked Liam in the eye. Tilted her head. Ashamed? Ready to make an admission?
“I don’t know Nils or Ana. Let’s cross the street to that dark house. We’ll tell a horror story.”
“This is a horror story.” Liam walked away, leaving Lori and Sir Lancelot to create stories without him. He’d seen Lori talking with Nils once in the grocery, possibly a second time in a restaurant.
Nowadays, walking the dog alone, Liam avoided Nils Eriksson’s house. To be clear, the game had lost its charm before he lost Lori. A laugh needed a conspiring ear. A mystery required a sidekick to bounce ideas off for solving the riddle. And a romance, of course, demanded a willing partner.
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And in the near corner, we have Solar Eclipse representing the Fantasy genre.
“Hello?” called a familiar voice from the reception area. “Anyone home?”
“In here!” Cal jumped up from behind the desk and greeted Isaac Bingham with a smile. “What a nice surprise. You look great. Retirement agrees with you.”
Despite the white hair, the elderly man’s grip was firm. “The grandkids keep me and Julia busy. No regrets taking over my law office?”
“None, except I have to pop a few extra-strength aspirin before every appointment with George Lydecker.”
Isaac’s eyes twinkled. “Trust me, his father was worse.”
Cal ushered him to a leather armchair. “Can I get you something? Coffee?”
“No thanks, I’m fine.”
“I take it you’re back for the harvest festival and to watch the eclipse.”
“Not exactly.” Isaac regarded the room with a pleased expression. “I like what you’ve done here; new paint, carpet.” He nodded at the laptop on the desk. “Everything is up-to-date the way it should be. I’ve heard good things about you from others in town. Now I know he was right all along, and I left clients in good hands.” Isaac’s expression took on a far-away look as if recalling a long-buried memory. “Why am I surprised? He was always right.”
The clock on the bookcase ticked off the seconds. Cal cleared his throat. “Isaac?”
“Forgive me.” Isaac shook his head with a laugh. “I must sound like a crazy old poot. I came back to see you. I have something I’ve waited a long time to deliver.”
Cal raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Isaac reached into his pocket and handed him a three-day pass to the harvest festival.
“Um, thanks.” Cal’s confusion deepened. “But I only planned to stop in for a few hours—”
“I also have a message. Strange,” Isaac murmured with a half-smile. “I’ve imagined this conversation often over the years. Now I don’t know where to begin.” His bemused expression vanished and he leaned forward. “Have you ever heard of the Lux Foundation?”
“Of course,” said Cal with surprise. “I wouldn’t be in Avalon Springs without it. The Lux Foundation awarded me a full scholarship to college and law school. When I passed the bar, they offered a grant contingent on locating to a rural community. It allowed me to buy your office and start debt free. Otherwise, I would have gone to a big city law firm.”
“Do you remember applying for the scholarships or the grant?” said Isaac.
“Well, no, but I applied for so many financial aid packages, and was told the grant was from an anonymous donor. Why do you ask?”
“Phillip Bingham was the founder of the Lux Foundation and my grandfather. He earmarked funds for your education and the grant. He’s the reason I approached you to take over my practice.”
Cal blinked. “Y-your grandfather? I don’t understand. Why?”
“I don’t know, but that’s not the strangest part. He set aside the money and made me promise to help you relocate to Avalon Springs fifty years before you were born.”
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Leave your votes and critiques in the comments below. Again, be respectful of your remarks and try to point positives as well as detractions.
We’ll be back tomorrow with another bout. See you then.
