We celebrated Colin Smith's birthday on Tuesday with a writing contest. Here are the results.
Beautiful but yikes, so mournful!
Jamie Kress 8:20am
A new rule in contests: no horse injuries! YIKES!
Mia Siegert 12:06pm
Hey, it's first kill all the lawyers, NOT the agents!
Roger Toll 3:23pm
A phrase for the ages:
"in-ex-whorably linked to the junk in my trunk."
kregger 9:25am
"seven starving-artist henchmen"
Kelly 10:31am
"he stands on the bow of Amy’s boat, in a Speedo"
Carolynnwith2Ns 4:46pm
"Great Hermit of Cartoon—”"
Amy Schaefer 9:28pm
A great sentence:
"He had borrowed Mr. Flintstones car, and the soles of his feet were killing him."
french sojourn 12:59pm
How we shall all be refering to Amy Schaefer now:
Atoll Amy
Christina Seine 1:20pm
terrific use of a prompt word
"graphosmithtically"
Jenny Shou 4:31pm
"sexile"
Rami McShane 3:01am
Not a story, but you can see why I've been a fan of this guy's writing for years
kregger 9:25am
Not quite a story, but don't you want to hear more? Me too.
Laura Scalzo 9:27am
Unknown 2:48pm
Jeffrey Schaefer 8:48pm
Not quite a story, but please restock the tequila
LynnRodz 2:13pm
Awwwwww!
MVB 10:15am
Always great to see an entry in the form of a poem!
Angie Brooksby-Arcangioli 10:47am
bjmuntain 1:46pm
And Philomena Buttonweezer makes a cameo appearance!
Katie Loves Coffee 7:31pm
And who knew Felix Buttonweezer could carry a tune?
Just Jan 10:07pm
And it turns out Dena has been to Carkoon as well!
Lilac Shoshani 8:07pm
And it turns out that none of it is real?
Eileen 6:20am
Here are the finalists:
(1) Matt 10:24am
Samantha awoke at seven. The man she had gone to bed with – “John Smith” – was gone. She normally wouldn’t bring strange men home, but his music had been so enchanting that when he asked to buy her a drink after the show she couldn’t resist.
Outside, people were bustling about. But Samantha felt exiled from the city below. The only link she felt now was to “John.”
She rolled over and found a note on the pillow:
“I’ll find you after dark. I’ll explain everything. - JS”
Then, in larger script at the bottom:
“Stay out of the sun.”
Outside, people were bustling about. But Samantha felt exiled from the city below. The only link she felt now was to “John.”
She rolled over and found a note on the pillow:
“I’ll find you after dark. I’ll explain everything. - JS”
Then, in larger script at the bottom:
“Stay out of the sun.”
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(2) Colin Smith 12:20pm
"What ya doing, Dr. Smith?"
I gritted my teeth and turned to see the Robinson boy.
"Fixing the communication link in my ship so I can call for help."
"Where's the Robot?"
I moved to hide the disembodied pincer that sat beside my leg. After sevenyears' exile with these fools, I was desperate enough to cannibalize that machine to try to fix my ship.
"I'm channeling his music circuits to… uh… enhance the frequency."
"I hope it works. The rescue ship's here and there's only room for the family."
The brat even smiled and waved as he ran off.
I gritted my teeth and turned to see the Robinson boy.
"Fixing the communication link in my ship so I can call for help."
"Where's the Robot?"
I moved to hide the disembodied pincer that sat beside my leg. After sevenyears' exile with these fools, I was desperate enough to cannibalize that machine to try to fix my ship.
"I'm channeling his music circuits to… uh… enhance the frequency."
"I hope it works. The rescue ship's here and there's only room for the family."
The brat even smiled and waved as he ran off.
------------------------------------------------
(3) ashland 12:49pm
“They say music's a window to the soul. Did ya know it can also show the past?”
I shrug. “Howso?”
He flashes his iPod. “Check it out.”
Sunday: Angel's Son, Sevendust.
Monday: Teenaged Wasteland, The Who.
Tuesday: Fell in Love with a Girl, The White Stripes.
Wednesday: Your Cheatin' Heart, Hank Williams Jr.
Thursday: Exiles on Main Street, Bruce Springsteen.
Friday: Everything's OK, Elliot Smith.
“Did you know it can also predict the future?”
He shrugs. “Howso, dear?”
I smile as I flash my knife.
Saturday: Bleed It Out, Linkin Park.
I shrug. “Howso?”
He flashes his iPod. “Check it out.”
Sunday: Angel's Son, Sevendust.
Monday: Teenaged Wasteland, The Who.
Tuesday: Fell in Love with a Girl, The White Stripes.
Wednesday: Your Cheatin' Heart, Hank Williams Jr.
Thursday: Exiles on Main Street, Bruce Springsteen.
Friday: Everything's OK, Elliot Smith.
“Did you know it can also predict the future?”
He shrugs. “Howso, dear?”
I smile as I flash my knife.
Saturday: Bleed It Out, Linkin Park.
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(4) Lobo 10:50pm
Indus’rial sabotage. Murder. Same ta me (truth b’told). ’Specially after that tex’ile mill job. But we’d already hit two competitors and my sevens game was callin’.
Creep kept squintin' at the building through oily Detroit smog. “He sleeps here with all them T-cars.”
“Model Teas, ya wordsmith.” I said. “An’ people say yer the smarty.”
Creep linked up the dynamite plunger, grinning so wide I thought his cheeks would bury his eyeballs. “Whatsa fella’s company again?”
I shrugged. “Stars with an F.”
“Should I start the music?”
“Nah. Leave ’im. Man sleepin’ with cars pro’ly don’t have much a future.”
Creep kept squintin' at the building through oily Detroit smog. “He sleeps here with all them T-cars.”
“Model Teas, ya wordsmith.” I said. “An’ people say yer the smarty.”
Creep linked up the dynamite plunger, grinning so wide I thought his cheeks would bury his eyeballs. “Whatsa fella’s company again?”
I shrugged. “Stars with an F.”
“Should I start the music?”
“Nah. Leave ’im. Man sleepin’ with cars pro’ly don’t have much a future.”
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(5) Julie Weathers 12:25am
Colin was an extraordinary wordsmith, bard among bards, and a renowned musician. He could have performed for kings, and had. Rumor was he'd been exiled because of a certain unflattering tune about a king's mistress named Esmiralia. The beautiful young golden-haired woman demanded him banned.
He was.
Forever linked to the song, she left in shame never to be heard of again. Well, almost never. Clever Colin now travels with a troupe, his seven children, and his adoring, golden-haired wife, Esmi, who sings with him about the bard who freed a damsel from an ogre and lived happily ever after.
He was.
Forever linked to the song, she left in shame never to be heard of again. Well, almost never. Clever Colin now travels with a troupe, his seven children, and his adoring, golden-haired wife, Esmi, who sings with him about the bard who freed a damsel from an ogre and lived happily ever after.
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(6) flashfriday 3:41am
Her face was unmistakable - raven hair, vermillion lips, skin white as snow – but (curse my memory!) I just couldn’t place her.
“Smallville High?”
“No.”
“Metropolis Community College?”
“No.” Her voice was gloriously musical. Regal, almost.
“Gotham Fashion & Design?”
“Not a chance, Hunter.”
Her cheeks glowed like apples – enchanting creature! – and hope sprang to life. “Want a boyfriend?”
“Thanks; I’ve already got seven.”
From hope to exile. “WILL YOU AT LEAST TELL ME YOUR NAME?”
She blinked. “Smith,” she said, a forest-full of birds and bunnies joining her howls of laughter.
I fled, humiliated. Never did place her.
Women.
“Smallville High?”
“No.”
“Metropolis Community College?”
“No.” Her voice was gloriously musical. Regal, almost.
“Gotham Fashion & Design?”
“Not a chance, Hunter.”
Her cheeks glowed like apples – enchanting creature! – and hope sprang to life. “Want a boyfriend?”
“Thanks; I’ve already got seven.”
From hope to exile. “WILL YOU AT LEAST TELL ME YOUR NAME?”
She blinked. “Smith,” she said, a forest-full of birds and bunnies joining her howls of laughter.
I fled, humiliated. Never did place her.
Women.
And the winner in a very competitive field is Lobo 10:50pm.
Lobo, if you'll drop me an email at jetreidliterary (gmail) and tell me the kinds of books you like to read, we'll get you a Fabulous Prize!
Thanks to all of you who entered! It was a terrific series of entries, and it's very clear that is a load of talent in the comment column here!
And Happy Birthday, Colin!
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