WRiTE CLUB 2021 - Preliminary Bout #13

The number thirteen maybe be considered unlucky by some, but for two writers it's anything but. Here is today's next preliminary bout. 

The voting for each of these bout remains open for an entire week, so if you missed one or two you can always go back and catch up.

Recap: WRiTE CLUB (sponsored by Wild Lark Books) is a tournament-style contest that will run for nine weeks (which includes a week break for the holidays). It provides writers the opportunity to compete against one another for a chance to win a free publication package (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 (decided by a group of twelve 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.

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, the voters can win a $50 Wild Lark Books gift card. 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 Tue, Jan 4th (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. What is okay, in fact, encouraged, is to spread the word about the contest to get more people to vote, just not for a specific writer!

That’s enough of the fine print…here we go!

On one side of the ring stands Dark Stormy representing the Romance genre.

It is unusually cold for a summer day, even for San Francisco. He sits by the window, rubbing his hands together to warm them. He has been waiting for her nearly an hour. She is never late and he is concerned. Finally she walks through the door. He rushes to her side.

“June?” he asks, his mouth agape.

“I came in her place.”

“She never told me she had a twin. Is she ok?” Jack reaches out to touch her arm in concern. She averts it deftly, leaving his hand to continue its arc through the air, coming down empty.

She shrugs. “Yeah.”  She nods at the counter. “So…Are we just going to stand here or…?”

“Oh, yeah. What would you like?”

“Coffee, black. None of that fancy shit, just regular French Roast.”

He shakes his head as if there were a fly buzzing around his ear. June, with her skinny Orgeat lattes and Pollyanna speech is nothing like her sister. If he weren’t staring into the face of his girlfriend, he wouldn’t even believe they were related. He heads for the counter as January makes for a table in the corner of the indie beatnik coffee shop.

She is wearing torn black jeans, tight against her slender body, a chunky black belt with three rows of grommets all the way around and a black ribbed tank top. It’s obvious she isn’t wearing a bra. She dares anyone to stare.

Jack hurries over with the coffees. He sits, puts his cup on the small, circular marble topped table and extends the other out to January. She stares at him intently, and makes no move for the disposable paper cup so he places it on the table in front of her.

 “So….?” He starts, returning her gaze. Even with the charcoal shadow and heavy black eyeliner he sees June’s icy blue eyes staring back at him. Strange, he thinks, that ice blue never came to mind before. June’s are warm, like shallow pool water in August.

She cuts him off. “I came to tell you it’s over. Don’t call June again.” She stands up and grabs a handful of his shirt, puts her face so close to his she can smell the cologne wafting off his neck, sweet oak and heavy pine, like a jazzy Christmas. She’s almost tempted to nuzzle in and breathe deeply. Almost.

 It’s time this comes to an end. At almost two months of dating, this “boyfriend” of June’s has already been in the picture too long. She doesn’t like and therefore doesn’t allow anyone to get too close to June.

“Ever!” She shouts as she releases the crumpled shirt, using his chest to push off like an Olympic swimmer using the side of the pool for a kick turn. She turns on her heel and walks out.

Jack gazes down into the umber liquid and pretends not to notice the other patrons watching the scene. We’ll see.

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On the far side of the ring, we have Axis who represents the Realism genre.

Tilt Toward Me

 

The April sunset lengthened across the horizon in a bright lavender band and then suddenly burned out, snuffed by the passing storm. Winter’s desperate grasping covered the lake, the dock, the opposite bank--all that I could see--in snow and ice. A flock of robins hopped around the yard as confusedly as I felt about the spring freeze, but by the evening I had welcomed the oddity.

I started a fire in the pit we made in February.

(Do you remember? After we dug the circle and lined it with smooth rock, how we chopped the white birch logs and piled them in stacks? You said, Will they be dry enough next winter? I pointed out how the wood had aged, how easy it was for us to cut them. Okay, let’s save them. Remember how you said that? Let’s save them.)

It took awhile, but the flames spread, and I prayed the fire would burn forever and the cold would hang on even though the spring air is bound to return tomorrow--for with the greening of the ground you’ve gone, and I can’t see far enough ahead to know when you’ll come back.

You will, won’t you? And we’ll sit here on the stones we dragged from the shoreline, and we’ll talk about the otter pups up the creek and how they grew so fast over the summer, and about the wonder of watching their rolling play. Yes, that’s right, and you’ll point out to me it isn’t really that long to be gone again, and how it’ll get easier for us.

Of course. We’ll get used to the cycle of your going and returning, the both of us will. Yet--why shouldn’t I embrace a day like this one? This storm of memory with hope twinkling in the hoarfrost?

Now the coals glow at my feet. They cover themselves in ash, and I have to stir them back to life. And if I focus on the orange, the deep surge of color that’s always folding into black, I can fool myself that soon you’ll let the screen door slam on your way to sit with me.

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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.

Finally, in order to keep this contest going AND GROWING, I'm asking folks to donate to the cause on my Ko-fi account. Let me assure you, 100% of the donations will go towards the contest prizes for this year and next!

We’ll be back tomorrow with bout #14. Please help all our writers out by telling everyone you know what is happening here and encouraging them to come vote.

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