WRiTE CLUB 2019 - Preliminaries - Round #5

We've come to the last bout of the week and today we reveal the ninth and tenth writers chosen to step into the ring. If you're arriving a little late to the contest I've recapped what is happening below and you can always check out previous bouts by visiting the Tournament Scorecard HERE.  This weekend is a perfect time to catch up.

WRiTE CLUB (sponsored by the DFW Conference) is tournament-style contest that runs during the eight weeks prior to the conference and it provides writers the opportunity to compete against one another for a chance to win free admission to next year’s conference (along with other prizes). Here’s the kicker—it’s all done anonymously. Writers have submitted 500-word writing samples under pen names. The chosen (pre-decided by a group of twenty slush pile readers) are paired off to go head-to-head in daily “bouts”, with the winner of each match determined by you the reader—by voting for your favorites. Bout winners keep advancing until there are only two remaining and that’s when a panel of celebrity judges, who include well know authors, agents, editors, and other publishing folks, choose the ultimate champion.

Even though the contest is sponsored by DFW, anyone can vote (as long as you have a Google sign-in or verifiable email address), and when you do, we encourage you to leave a mini-critique for both writers. Oh, I forgot to mention that the voters can win a $60 Barnes and Noble prize. Each time you vote in a bout your name will be placed into a hat and at the end of the contest, one name will be selected to receive the prize.

How this works—two anonymous (pen name only) writing samples are waiting in the ring below. Visitors to this blog (that’s you) should read both entries and then vote by leaving a comment for the one that resonates with you the most. We also 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 I post it to give as many people as possible to have a say. Voting for today’s bout will close on Thursday, May 9th (noon central time). To help keep up with which bouts are open, you can follow along on the WRiTE CLUB Scoreboard updated right HERE.

It’s that simple. The writing piece that garnishes the most votes will move on to the next round where they’ll face a different opponent. 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).

A few more 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 cause 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!
4) Although more of a suggestion than a rule - cast your vote before you read other comments. Do not let yourself be swayed by the opinions of others.

That’s enough of the fine print…like the man says –

For the last bout of the week, we have Frazzled Father on one side of the ring representing the Flash Fiction genre.

Instructions on Baby-Care

I would not advise it, but if you happen to find yourself irrevocably in the position of having to care for one of the horrid things, there are a few techniques you should be aware of beforehand--

When you place your pointer finger on the structure protruding from its face and intone “bop!”, a small squealing sound will emerge. Now, you can either repeat the provoking action and achieve the desired effect again, or you can leave it alone in its highchair and go fix yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

If you choose the latter, expect the following--

It will begin as a small squeaking noise. Then, like a train chugging closer, the screech will grow and grow until it is all you can hear. An abyss will swallow its face. If you peer in, you will see a black hole, and maybe a few cheerios.

An unfortunate design flaw, it carries no buttons or switches or even a “power-off” option. Proceed by trial and error.

           

Input: applesauce, milk, what they call a “binky”

Pat its backside.

Analyze output.

After analyzation, you can calculate the material and quantity of the following input.

If none of the inputs succeed in plugging the contraption, you may have to switch tactics. The following method is not recommended if you can avoid it, in protection against dangers which will be addressed later. Proceed with caution.

Pick it up from the highchair, taking special care not to scrape the two chubby hot dogs dangling down from its center. Orient it in various positions and configurations until the sound ceases.

Don’t cradle it sideways, as you would a football, or else its lips will pucker into a tight “O” and it will look up expectantly at you, waiting for you, like a cow, to begin exporting milk.

Remember-- you are not a cow. You are not a milk factory.

If reconfiguring it does not work, you may need to make yourself into a popcorn popper, or a bouncy ball pit. Imagine a teakettle whistling on the stove, water particles steaming the glass top. Mimic the particles, bouncing up, up, up until the sound stops.

Eventually, you will have to transport it to Dreamland.

Stand with it in your arms, rocking side to side like a sumo wrestler preparing for battle. It might open and close its mouth as it is readying for sleep. You might look at it and suddenly notice its little button nose, its cheeks flushed pink, its tiny, fluttering eyelashes. It might reach up to grasp your finger, and you will look at the tiny digits curled around yours and think for a moment that when you return this one to its rightful owner, you might consider acquiring one of your own. Don’t-- this is the true danger, and if you choose to forgo this warning and travel down that path, there is no instruction manual which can assist you then. 

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On the far side of the ring, we have Charlie St James who is representing the Paranormal Mystery genre.

“I have always played second fiddle to women like you.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Deb.”

I looked around the room at the others who were still frozen like deer, or just too narcotized by reality TV to realize that something bad was actually going to happen right in front of them.

Perhaps a more direct approach?

“Put the cake cutter down, Deb.”

“Already think you’re the boss around here, giving orders?” She waved the knife around as she gestured to the breakroom. “No, Cassy. I will not put the knife down.”

“You are going to hurt someone, Deb.”

“Not someone.”

She lunged at me and I ducked and used the only weapon I had on me. Chocolate cake.

I smashed it into her face, hoping for a distraction to get away, or that the sight of wasted cake would somehow unfreeze the others standing around the room like statues.

Being blinded by icing, she swung her long arms around and the edge of the cake server sliced my arm, drawing blood.

Who knew that cake servers were so sharp?

I stepped away from her, but she was quick, all those years of dance class she would tell me about over coffee, and she caught my arm.

I jabbed my plastic fork into her hand and she made a sound, something between a grunt and a howl, low and not exactly human.

She pulled her hand away and I had a clear shot for the door.

I darted toward the fluorescent of the hallway, but my foot slipped on the patch of chocolate icing, sending me crashing to my knees.

That was all the time she needed to recover. She threw herself on top of me and my chin hit the tile floor hard enough that I bit my inner cheek. The taste of blood filled my mouth.

She turned me over and I only had enough time to see the glow of green in her eye and the track of cake down her cheek before she rammed the cake server into my chest. I heard the thud as the hilt hit my ribs.

I’d never had to think about what being stabbed would feel like. Never lived a life where that was a possibility. Brain aneurysm in my sleep, maybe. Bus accident, maybe. But never being stabbed.

I really didn't think that Deb, even in this wide-eyed craziness, could manage the strength to get a Pampered Chef cake cutter through my rib cage and directly into my heart, but she did. Three times actually.

As I made a vain attempt to defend myself, my lungs pooled with blood and I couldn’t breathe. The track lighting grew a little dimmer and my arms grew heavy.

Deb sat on top of me, blood flecks mixing in with her faint freckles. The smile on her face slowly faded, as did the glow of green in that right half of her right eye.

Guess she really wanted that job in HR. 

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Leave your votes and critiques in the comments below. Again, be respectful of your remarks and try to point out positives as well as detractions.

Before we sign off today, I wanted to address the issue a few readers are having with not being able to post comments, or having those comments show up as UNKNOWN even though they have a Google Account.  There are several things at play here. First, if you are using the Safari or Chrome browsers they have a known problem with Blogger and you have two choices. Switch to Firefox as a browser (I've never had a problem using it), or change the setting on Safari as illustrated below.

The other problem is Blogger not recognizing you when adding a comment and therefore designating you as UNKNOWN. This could happen if the reader is a Blogger user themselves and they have not changed their settings since Google + went away.  To do this, follow these steps:

Go to Blogger dashboard.
SETTINGS
USER SETTINGS
Set User Profile = Blogger (instead of Google +)
Save

Hopefully, that will resolve everyone's issues and let the votes/comments reach our contestants. If you missed the first two bouts because of one of these issues, remember the bouts remain LIVE for a week so you can still go back and let your choice be known.

We’ll be back on Monday with bout #6. Please help all our writers out by telling everyone you know what is happening here and encourage them to come vote.

This is WRiTE CLUB—the contest where the audience gets clobbered!