Sunday, March 28, 2010

The Keep It Going Contest

*Due to this week’s contest, I will reveal the truth to my Creative Writer lies from Friday night’s post on Wednesday in lieu of Watcha Say Wednesday. So, there's still time to make a guess if you'd like. 

Guys and gals, it’s time for another installment of the “Keep It Going Contest.” The contest is a spin on an old campfire game. Below you will find the beginning of a story. The game is to add your own creative spin to it. Unlike writing prompts, I want you to do it right here in the comment section.

HOW TO PLAY: Here’s how it works. The first commenter will add to my contribution, the next will add to theirs, and so forth, building onto it like a puzzle. So that when the contest is over, I will take all the comments and show what we created. (Here’s what happened last time.) You just need to read my passage and the last comment made, and then add your own contribution to the story. I recommend typing out your part in a separate doc so that someone doesn’t jump in front of you before you hit submit. On Wednesday and Friday, I will create a comment summarizing what we have so far to make it easier on those that show up in the middle of the week.

RULES: First and foremost you must become a follower. That’s step one. There are multiple ways to earn entries into the contest.

PRIZES: Oh yes, there are prizes. There will be two sets of winners.

*The first is strictly for those that contribute to the story. Entries should be limited to 200 words. One winner will be randomly selected from the comments section from the list of contributors. That winner will take home their choice of either a $15 gift certificate from Amazon or a 15-page critique from me (any pages you like, although most use this for the first 15).

*The second is open to everyone. Winners will be randomly selected, and there will be two of them. Each winner will win one of the following, which they will select: Critique of your first 10 pages or $10 Amazon gift certificate. Point system is as follows:

1) Be a follower. +2 if you were already a follower, +1 for all new followers

2)Submitting your contribution to the story in the comments. Please limit your entries to 200 words, however, multiple entries are allowed. +5

3) Blog about the contest +3

4) Posting a link to the contest on the sidebar of your blog. +2

5) Follow me on twitter +1

6) Post a link to the contest on Facebook or Twitter +2

DEADLINE: The contest will run from now until Saturday, April 3rd at 11:00 pm EST. I will announce the winners the following Monday.

Questions and comments are welcome.

Have fun with it. Be creative. Take this story wherever you want it to go. Seriously, just because I don’t mention vampires, werewolves, or three-legged wooly boogers doesn’t mean that there aren’t any.

Not my finest work, but I wanted to give you guys a different genre this go round. I don’t generally write YA, but I think it’s enough to get you started.

Here we go…
Claire’s morning started with a scream - Mother’s. Mom was beyond pissed when she saw her daughter’s purple-tinged hair. Tired of her long golden locks and the innocence that came with them, Claire lopped off her hair to chin level, dyed it, and then went to bed in a puddle of tears. 

She begged and pleaded with her mother to not make her go to school today. She didn’t want to see Gavin. Couldn’t face him. But Mom pushed her daughter out the door with a female warrior battle cry.

“Not going shows weakness, and we Fitzgerald’s are stronger than that,” she had said. 

Claire drug herself through the red double doors of Piedmont High. Taking an alternative route to her locker, she kept her eyes busy, trying to avoid the boy with pale skin and hazel eyes. She crept up to her locker ninja style.

The pictures of a happy couple stared back as she swung open the metal door. She swallowed down the guilt, and pinched back the tears. Stronger than that. 

The locker slammed shut, nearly crushing her fingers inside. She saw the black boots first. She forced her eyes upward, and into furious eyes.


  1. “Tasia,” I gasped.

    She lifted a shorn purple lock with a lacquered black fingernail. “Finally decided to conform?”

    This hater was no one to mess with; but shy or not, neither was I. To prove it, I blinked, slowly, focused on the manicured perfection that was her pride, and stripped the finger to the bone.

    She didn’t bat an over-lined, black eye as she studied the effects of the curse. “Maybe the new color is a bit premature. You blinked.” She shook the finger back into shape.

    “You still need a gesture yourself,” I chided. I wasn’t as calm as my tone, but maybe the twit wouldn’t notice.

    Tashia shrugged luscious orange shoulders under her pink shawl; the movement showing her rounded bosoms for effect. The effort was lost on me; but she’d grown so used to relying on it’s mesmerizing results on the male species she often forgot she wasn’t the only female in attendance. Her vanity struck me as funny, and I began to laugh.

    “You made it,” Dario complimented. He is the soft, orange- brown of an earth elemental, his hair a golden halo above yellow cats eyes.

    My blush of delight and shame was masked by my normal rusty hues. I could let Tasia believe I’d earned the purple through passing another level, but I couldn’t lie to Dario. Well, maybe this once; so Tasia wouldn’t spread it over the entire school that I still hadn’t performed my first

    (sorry, I changed the POV. But when I went back to fix it, I lost the thread. Maybe someone can put it back to third.)


  2. (back to third)

    Tasia served as best friend and best foe. Usually Claire could tell which side of her personality would rear its head by the color of her eyes.

    Today, they were sapphire, which meant that she was teetering on the edge between her vast different halves, witch and angel. Guess it served her parents right for interbreeding.

    With Danio in the picture, Claire tried to play it cool, but her fingernails were growing longer by the second so she thrust her hands in her jacket pockets.

    She had a thing for Danio’s totally human or as Tasia called him ‘The Bore’ Cousin Adam. If Tasia knew this, Claire was sure to become the laughing stalk of the school.

    “The hair’s fab,” Danio said, leaning in to grab a hold of her locks. “That takes talent.”

    “Oh it was nothing,” Claire said, blushing. Her razor-sharp nails cut through the seams of the pockets.

    Tasia rolled her eyes and her irises lightened to sky blue. If they went clear, trouble was brewing. “Smells like chemicals to me.”