WRiTE CLUB 2018 - Bout #10

Reminder - You can follow along with all of the bout results right HERE, and remember, the bouts stay open for one week.

Today closes out week two with the 10th of 15 bouts.  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 Thursday, May 3rd (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 Alex T. Hilton representing the YA Science Fiction genre.

Aside from the white spectral creature stalking Jude, the night was perfect. The Tower Comics theme park, curtained with scents of hot-fried dough, pinged with laughter, and clanked with climbing rollercoasters. Everyone in that park—including Jude’s friends—reveled, all unaware of the danger. Rob, his denim-clad arms crossed, smiled at Heather, the curly haired wonder, who giggled and nudged him with her hip as Jude let them walk ahead.

            Behind Jude, the feathered creature slithered through the crowd. It bumped around kids in capes, only wanting Jude. Like his friends, no one else could see—had ever been able to see—the ghostly creatures except for him. Yet, this floating mist-snake and its long, jagged teeth could take a chunk out of any of the costume clad park-goers. So, it was Jude’s responsibility to do something about it.

 Tonight, though?

Couldn’t it have chosen a night when Jude was in his room reading a comic and not surrounded by people?

            He sighed deeply. For the first time in five homes, he’d found a place where Mom didn’t move them within a year. Sure, Austin, Texas had its share of weirdos, but for two long years it’d lacked the normal—let’s say—excitement that came with being him. In Michigan, he’d watched as a fellow fifth grader’s voice was stolen by a Butterfly. In Ohio, his two thirteen-year-old friends had been sucked into the sidewalk. Compared to all that, Austin had been relaxing.

            If he tried to stop this thing, his family would be packed and running by 3:00 AM. If he didn’t, then what would happen?

Someone let out a squeak.

Sudden anxiety gripped Jude’s stomach. He turned to spot a girl with android face paint—wires spiderwebbed around her eyes. Her circuit painted hand clutched a cup of popcorn as she stumbled back. She had just walked into the creature and was mere inches from it now.

The creature rolled in on itself, pretzeling its lithe body so it could face her. It hissed, flashing rows of spiraling, screw-sized teeth. She blinked, completely unaware of the jaws hinging open in front of her face as it reared back.

Jude forced heat to snap in his chest that quickly spread outwards to his fingers and toes. He couldn’t Burn too hot right now, not with all these people. Too much, and he’d start glowing like a paper lantern.

The girl couldn’t see the monster, but she must have been able to sense the impending danger because she backpedaled. Jude imagined a thin, coiling string in his hand, felt it form there. In a flash, he tripped her. Popcorn leapt from her cup onto the bricks as she landed awkwardly on her butt.

The Snake whizzed over her head, biting nothing but the trails of her hair. The long, floating, feathered body twitched with frustration. But then the eye-less, forked head sensed through the crowd by tasting his spent energy. The creature swung its head, practically salivating.

Oh, shit.

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And in the near corner, we have TravelingGnome representing the Mystery genre.

Gertrude mentally checked “murder” off her bucket list. She watched as two crewmen carefully wheeled a gurney, a white sheet contouring the decidedly dead body, off the cruise ship and headed toward a van discretely marked Coroner. She clutched her cane and hobbled toward the gangplank, an attendant wheeling a cart-full of matched luggage in her wake. Handicapped people always debarked first, (barring any dead bodies, at least); that was one of the perks of being old.

At eighty-seven she wouldn’t get many more chances to execute her bucket list. So, when the opportunity had presented itself, with a handy knife she’d stolen from her steak dinner and an invitation to the cabin of an elderly windbag with tufts of white hair she’d met at the casino on the Lido Deck, well, it was fate. Like God had personally approved the execution of the odious man for chain-smoking cigarettes non-stop (a nasty habit!) and tossing down liquor like he was immune to death. Moderation was key. She would have told him that, if he was still alive.

“Watch your step here,” the attendant said, helpfully offering a hand onto shore.

“Thank you,” she replied. “You’re such an obliging young man.” She patted his arm and he beamed.

The coroner’s van was parked by baggage claim and sat silently like a hearse, which she supposed it was. Gertrude couldn’t resist a peek at her handiwork. It would just take a second. Her hands trembled slightly as she balanced herself on the fender, pushing herself up high enough to peer inside the rear window. The sheet had slipped to the floor, and there he was, the man who used to be Floyd. Her face flushed at the sight of him. Except for the rather hideous gash across his throat, he appeared to be napping.

Heavens to Murgatroyd! Did I do that? She held a chubby hand to her chest feeling the fluttery thump of her heart through her floral muumuu. The jagged flaps of his throat would have to be sewn back together before the funeral. It would be closed casket.

“Ma’am, are you ok?” It was that pesky attendant again, looking to help where he wasn’t wanted.

“I’m fine. Thank you, dear. I just needed to rest my old bones a moment before I call a taxi.”  

“I’ll take care of that for you.” He pointed away from the van. “There’s a covered bench just over there where you can wait comfortably.”

Gertrude risked another peek at Floyd and closed her eyes savoring the feeling. Warmth like a cup of hot tea on a winter night swept through her body as she replayed the event over and over, watching on the movie screen of her eyelids at the horror on his face when he realized an eighty-seven year old great-grandmother was ending his life. She clenched and unclenched her arthritic hands where they had held the heft of the knife and smiled.

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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.