Mom, author, nurse, teacher . . . reading the world around me

Tag: writing contest

Kidlit Vibes 2023

I decided to enter the #KidLitVibes Twitter contest this year. Thanks to the great folks who organize this contest.

The rules state you have to spin the wheel and write a story about the feeling you land on using just 125 words. My arrow stopped on Powerful. Sigh. I almost spun again. Sadly, I couldn’t really think of a time in my childhood I felt powerful.

But this idea of a little girl helping her scared puppy instead of letting fear overwhelm her popped into my head. So, here goes…

Photo by Vlad Panov on Unsplash

THE STORM

125 words

Rain falls. Pitter-pat. Pitter-pat.

Puddles form. Splat! Splat!

Rumble. Crack!

Lucy jumps.

POP. Power’s out.

The room plunges into darkness.

The puppy shivers. Lucy’s lip quivers.

Mommy shines a flashlight. She makes shadow bunnies dance on the wall.

Lucy laughs.

Until…

Crack! The windows rattle.

Her laugh sticks in her throat.

Each BOOM from outside

vibrates in her chest.

Lucy hugs her puppy.

His shivers have become shakes.

The poor little guy is scared to death.

“We’ll build a fort,” she tells him.

It’s cozy inside.

The lightning flashes dim.

The thunder claps quieten.

“There,” she says.

“It will be okay.”

His body stills.

The storm moves past.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.”

He licks her hand.

Tail wagging.

Crawling out,

she stands tall.

Powerful.

Update: I received an honorable mention for this entry. Thanks to the organizers!

Spring Fling Kidlit Contest ’23

This is at least my third year entering this great writing contest. Some years I’ve won a prize, some not. But it’s always fun to participate! If you’re new to Spring Fling, it’s a fabulous writing contest where you find (or create) a springtime GIF and then write a 150 (max) word story inspired by the image.

For all the rules/details, click here. The community engagement for this contest is great. If you write a story, be sure to read other entries and comment on those as well. Meet new writing friends and make new social media connections. That’s the best part of the contest. Thanks to Kaitlyn Sanchez and Ciara O’Neil for putting this together!

Thanks for stopping by to read my entry this year!

The Magic of Shared Memories

(147 words)

“Why so blue on this beautiful spring day?” Grandma asks.

“Keisha is moving today.”

Grandma squeezes my hand. “Let’s go find some perfect crafting paper.”

Grandma and I love origami. Magic happens in folding paper to create something new.

Deep in the clearance bin something rustles.

Sweeping away the top layer reveals beautiful blue paper with springtime flowers. “Grandma, look. It’s perfect.”

Back home, my sadness seeps into each fold—sealing special memories into every crease. I only wish I’d made the butterfly in time to give it to Keisha.

Later when I walk Grandma out, something flutters against my hand. I open it, and my butterfly takes flight!

We gasp, watching until it disappears in the direction of Keisha’s house.

Grandma winks. Like she’s known all along.

I picture my butterfly settling into Keisha’s outstretched palm—all the words I hadn’t said soaring into her heart.

GIF from website GIFER.com

Trapped

I decided to throw my hat into the ring this year for the second annual Kids’ Choice Kidlit Writing Contest. I’d heard about it last year and it sounded like a ton of fun to have your 200 words judged by actual kids. Thanks to author Kailei Pew for putting this together, and special thanks to all the kids taking their time to read and judge the entries!

My entry is a scene from one of my YA manuscripts. I hope you enjoy it!

UPDATE** My entry made it to the finals, and ended up in second place overall for YA this year!

TRAPPED

200 Words

Nothing in life prepared me to attend my own funeral. Walking around knowing I’m dead is freakish enough. Walking through crowds of people talking about me in past tense is insane.

Over half the school is here—definitely most of the senior class. The drama queens are giving performances worthy of reality television. It’s equal parts irritating and hilarious watching them bawling like we’d been best friends.

If Raven dabs her eyes with that tissue one more time, I’ll—

Do what, exactly? Exactly nothing, that’s what.

Since nobody can see or hear me, I’m left just watching. It sucks.

I see Mom. Her face is so blotchy and swollen, I barely recognize her. She doesn’t even resemble the mom I hugged before school three days ago.

That night at the hospital, Mom begged me not to die. Begged me to stay here. For her.

Her screaming felt more agonizing than the broken ribs.

Somehow, I’d stayed.

Now I’m trapped—but desperate to escape.

Then I see Luca watching me from across the room.

His lips form my name.

Our eyes lock. Hope balloons in my chest.

If Luca can see me, maybe he’ll know how to help me cross over.

How the Elf Wrecked (then Saved!) Christmas

(250 words)

This is my submission for Susanna Leonard Hill’s Annual Holiday Writing Contest. Enjoy!

Quirky Elf twisted her wrench.

WHIZ. An egg zoomed past.

CRACK.  The shell split.

SPLAT. It hit the skillet.

SIZZLE. For 80 seconds.

FLIP. 20 seconds on that side…

WHOOSH. A perfect over-easy egg glided onto a plate.

She pictured herself offering a hearty breakfast to Santa before his long Christmas Eve journey. Until…

“Breaking rules again?”

Ugh. Head-Elf Zillow.

“It’s a breakfast machine. For Santa.”

Zillow checked her clipboard. “Out of bed, unauthorized use of workshop equipment, bringing food into the toy-making bay—”

Quirky fumed. Why bother explaining?

On naming day, Zillow handed out official elf names to the entire class. “Merry, Twinkle, Sparkle, Snowflake.” Then, Zillow’s tone changed. “Quirky.”

The other elves snickered. They’d always treated her differently.

It wasn’t fair! She only wanted to be herself.

I’ll show them all, Quirky thought. I’ll be the trouble-maker they expect.

At dawn, toys littered the workshop floor. Carefully packed bags were upended.

Panic-stricken elves cried, “We’ll never make our deadline!”

Guilt twisted inside Quirky’s stomach. Her sabotage would leave millions of children broken-hearted. Mischief and mayhem didn’t feel so good anymore.

Tears filled Quirky’s eyes.

Then, Santa’s booming voice filled the room. “Quirky Elf?”

Did he know?

Quirky stepped one pointy-toed shoe toward him. “Yes.”

“If anyone can save Christmas, it’s you. Do you have an invention to handle this mess?”

Her heart exploded with joy. “I do!”

With her swifty packer contraption repacking bags, Santa’s eyes twinkled.

“Quirky, you’re a genius! If only I had some breakfast…”

The Tastiest Tea

Mooncake Festival- Credit: Tehcheesiong for Stock Free Images

I’m thrilled to throw my hat into the ring for the 2022 Fall Writing Frenzy contest.

Special thanks to Lydia Lukidis and Kaitlyn Sanchez for organizing the contest, and to all of the donors!

My entry is 189 words. Enjoy!

The Tastiest Tea

Ginger and Grey gallop off, gathering friends

to celebrate Mid-Autumn Festival—

leaving their mooncakes cooling…

and a huge pot of tasty tea

outside to steep.

As Oolong Otter pedals past,

a rusty screw flies from his busted-up bike.

Sploosh!

Now its rusty tasty tea.

As Matcha Mouse scampers past,

dust flies from her cleaning kit.

Sploosh!

Now its dusty rusty tasty tea.

As Boba Bogey drifts past,

an escaping ghost flies from its grasp.

Sploosh!

Now its ghosty dusty rusty tasty tea. 

As Pekoe Porcupine races past,

a lemon flies from her lunch basket.

Sploosh!

Now its zesty ghosty dusty rusty tasty tea. 

As Chai Chipmunk hurdles past,

some pie flies from their apron pocket.

Sploosh!

Now its crusty zesty ghosty dusty rusty tasty tea. 

As Darjeeling Donkey lumbers past,

a clump of glue flies off his carpenter’s belt.

Sploosh!

Now its pasty crusty zesty ghosty dusty rusty tasty tea. 

Everyone gathers to celebrate, nibble mooncakes, and taste the tea.

“It’s nutty!”

Fruity!”

Gritty?”

But, in the end—

the nutty fruity gritty pasty crusty zesty ghosty dusty rusty tasty tea….

is the best tea anyone’s ever tasted.

Kidlit Writing Contests

*Updated 5/23

If you follow my blog, you’ve seen that most of my posts lately have been related to writing contests for creators of kidlit. I thought I’d take a few minutes to write an actual blog post about why I enter so many of these, and why you should consider them if you haven’t already.

  1. Hone your craft. All of these contests have a word limit. Some are as little as 50, and some go as high as 200. Regardless of the number of words allowed, it’s a challenge to create a story with a well-developed plot and a clear beginning, middle and end–in so few words. Also, writing from a prompt is a good skill to perfect, and many of these contests have prompts provided.
  2. Engage with the kidlit writing community. Writing is largely a solitary task, but many of these contests create a ton of engagement on Twitter. It’s fun to read other entries and to share your own. You’ll meet other people who love creating stories for kids and make writing friends–maybe even critique partners if you’re lucky. In fact, to increase engagement, my SCBWI region is hosting two “write-ins” this month to work on our entries for the upcoming Spring Fling Writing Contest.
  3. Get your work out there. One of the biggest hurdles for new writers is sharing your work. It can make you feel vulnerable, but feedback is incredibly useful in helping us become better writers. It’s incredibly satisfying to hear that your story connected with someone, making them laugh or cry. Sometimes in this tough business, it’s the encouragement we need to keep going!
  4. Learn what types of stories hook the judges. Some of the people judging entries are kidlit agents. Some are agented/published kidlit authors. Even if your entry doesn’t win a prize, you can still get something valuable out of the contest. By looking at the entries that were picked by the judges, you see what types of stories resonated. This can be useful when crafting manuscripts to query.
  5. Have Fun! For most of us, writing is a creative outlet. Something about the challenge and brevity of these stories has been just the tonic I’ve needed to get through some of my creative slump during the pandemic. You’ve got nothing to lose, and so much to gain. I hope you give it a try.
  6. Get inspired! I’ve been participating in these contests for several years now, and many of the followers I’ve gained from them are gaining representation and/or announcing books deals. I signed with an agent in January of this year and many of the people congratulating me on Twitter were the ones I’ve been entering contests with. It really does build community.

I’d love to answer any questions you might have about these contests. I’m including some of the ones I’ve entered below.

If you decide to enter, good luck and have fun! Happy Writing!

Here are a few of my entries that have won prizes:

The Accusation

Mac’s Stage Fright

Trapped

The Show Must Go On

Links to some wonderful contests:

Spring Fling Writing Contest

50 Precious Words

Fall Writing Frenzy

Halloweensie Writing Contest

Valentiny Writing Contest

Kids’ Choice Kidlit Writing Contest

Fall Writing Frenzy 2021: The Accusation

I’m back to throw my hat into the ring for the third annual Fall Writing Frenzy, run by the amazing duo Kaitlyn Sanchez and Lydia Lukidis! Check out the contest link for all the details, but basically I’m writing a 200 word story based on the picture below. When I saw this old church in autumn, a strange story began to unfold. It’s written for a teen audience. Special thanks to the prize donors and special judge Ameerah Holliday! I hope you enjoy!

Photo Credit: Unsplash: Julia Solonina

The Accusation

(200 words)

The rising chants spur me forward. They’ve grown almost loud enough to drown out my hammering heart, and the crunching of leaves under my feet.
Am I too late?

The church comes into view.

Smoke prickles my nose.
What have I done?

I’m close enough now to hear shouted taunts—

“Witch!”
“Heretic!”
“Devil!”

All lies. But, who’ll believe me now?

Orange flames lash the pole. Crackling. Popping.

“Father!” I shout in vain. I’ll make him believe me.

But, I can’t push through the frenzied mob. I’m too late to stop this.

Even now, bound in ropes, Anna looks beautiful—chin high, face proud.

Does she know what I’ve done?

Guilt knots my insides.

But, Henry had wanted her. My Henry.

Before Anna came, I’d been enough.

So, I lied. “She cursed our crops.”

They needed a scapegoat, so they believed. It was easy, really.

Suddenly, there’s a loud bang, a green flash. I’m thrown backwards into the crowd.
Fear grips my throat like a fist. I’ll be trampled!

At the crowd’s collective gasp, I follow their gazes skyward.

Anna soars above us, one finger pointing at me.

Our eyes meet.

Then…
she’s gone.

Again, I wonder. What have I done?

UPDATE**** I won a critique from amazing kidlit author Dorian Cirrone. Thanks to everyone who puts this together every year!

Just One Child

Happy Halloween Everyone. I wrote this 100 word story for the 9th annual Halloweensie contest on Susanna Leonard Hill’s website. Click the link to check out contest rules. 🙂 Enjoy!

************************************************************************

Creak. Her rocking chair broke the eerie silence.

“Just one child,” she thought.

She adjusted her pointy black hat, and rubbed her gnarled hands together greedily. “Just one.”

Yet, none came.

Her eyes scanned fake cobwebs and tattered scarecrows with disgust.

At long last, she rose to go inside—heart heavy, lonely.

Then, a chorus of voices behind her.

Trick or treat!”

A potion for her soul! She turned. Not just one child. Her great-grandchildren!

“Sorry we’re so late. It’s a long drive, but we wanted to visit on your first “nursing home Halloween”.

A full heart. A smile. Happy.

The Empty Spot

amazing-beautiful-breathtaking-cloudsHappy Fall Y’all! This is my entry for the Kidlit Fall Writing Frenzy contest.

The Empty Spot

196 words, Image 5, Picture Book category

This used to be our spot. On dark nights when the moon was full, we’d dash past Rachel’s feet and scurry up this tree. Full moons were always the best—especially when drifting clouds made it look like cheese. Sometimes, on nights like this, we would reminisce about the pranks we’d pulled or the ham we’d snitched from Rachel’s sandwich when she left it unattended for a minute. She loved us anyway. Even when she called us “her little stinkers.” Some nights we just sat, and rubbed our necks together.

 

I remember the day Rachel brought us home from the rescue in a cardboard box. She’d only planned for one cat, but ended up bringing us home together. Last week he stopped eating. When Rachel walked in the door with the empty carrier, I’d paced and paced. “I’m so sorry,” she’d said. Where was he? When would he be back?

 

Tonight, I sit alone. One, in a spot made for two. My purr is stuck somewhere in my chest. I wonder if it will ever come again?

 

I stare at the same moon. I sit in the same place. But nothing is the same. Not anymore.

 

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