Posts Tagged ‘Flash Fiction Contest’
Welcome to the 2014 zombie apocalypse flash fiction contest, hosted by yours truly, J. Whitworth Hazzard. This flash fiction contest is being held in support of my kickstarter for Dead Sea Games.
Judge and editor-extraordinaire Miranda Kate will be deciding everyone’s fate in this competition. Up for grabs are a $25 Amazon Gift certificate, a 20-page critique from Miranda, and loads of great ebooks donated by my talented friends. Plus everyone who enters will get a free copy of “Dead Sea Games: Adrift” to whet your appetite for zombie destruction.
On to the rules!
Is a setting.
The people are gone but the zombies remain. Somewhere in this concrete and steel jungle are a thousand stories of bravery, heartbreak, love, and adventure. What will yours be?
Your flash fiction piece MUST…
…be 500 words or less.
…be posted to your blog before July 27th at midnight, EST.
…conform to reasonable standards of adult society (read between the lines, folks)
…include the promotional links highlighted below
…be set in New York City after the zombie apocalypse.
The setting is similar to the setting of Dead Sea Games, but don’t let that hem in your creative spirit. We want to read all of the great stories that I know can come from this great big melting pot of humanity—totally gone to hell-in-a-hand-basket. Your piece can be any genre, any universe, any characters (even mine!), any set of rules you like. Just be entertaining and make us feel. As always, if you don’t have a blog or a place to post your flash fiction send in your piece using the comment section below and we’ll post it (and link it up) for you.
Grand Prize Winner – $25 Amazon Gift Certificate and 20-page writing critique
2nd Place – eBook Bundle
3rd Place – eBook Bundle
In Creeps the Night published by J.A.Mes Press (Sept. Publication)
PROMO LINKS (copy and paste anywhere in your entry):
Like my story? Kickstart the zombie apocalypse by publishing Dead Sea Games.
Want to write like me? Personal coaching and critiquing by Miranda Kate.
On your marks, get set…GO!
Have fun and don’t forget to link your blog to the contest using the linky tool below!
Business Card Fiction: Short Goodbyes
Brainchild of J.D. Wenzel (@JDWenzel), Business Card Fiction is the newest flash fiction kid on the block. It’s got a cool premise, boundless opportunities for creativity, and great prizes. With the help of Ruth Long (@bullishink), and Lillie McFerrin (@lilliemcferrin), all the top flash writers will be on the trolley for this contest.
Here is my entry in their December contest.
Have a go at it yourself and be sure to read everyone’s entry!
Business Card Fiction: FIST
The brainchild of J.D. Wenzel (@JDWenzel), Business Card Fiction is the newest flash fiction kid on the block. It’s got a cool premise, boundless opportunities for creativity, and wicked smart prizes. With the help of Ruth Long (@bullishink), and Lillie McFerrin (@lilliemcferrin), this contest is bound to take off like a rocket and attract top notch talent in the flash community. There are multiple contests per month, a side-by-side showdown of the winners, and even a chance for authors and contributors to get in on the action and give away prizes or win coveted sidebar space to show off your latest pet project.
Here is my entry in their “Pick a Prompt” BETA event.
Have a go at it yourself and be sure to read everyone’s entry. POW!
Flash Fiction Contest: Behind the Curtain
Anna Meade (@ruanna3), Fairy Queen, Bride-to-Be, and Agent Provocateur, over at Yearning For Wonderland is running yet another great flash fiction contest. This time Ms. Meade has decided to let out the creepy in honor of the coming All Hallows Eve. The #btcurtain writing contest is simple: 400 words of original fiction (no erotica) about something happening behind the proverbial or literal curtains. Complete rules are here. Contest runs until Oct. 13th! And don’t forget to get Anna’s attention with the tweet of doom… #MOOGHOOHAH
You wanted creepy? You got it…
By J. Whitworth Hazzard
Marla’s heels click-clacked along the sidewalk by her apartment. A light rain drifted in front of the streetlights, casting tiny motes of shadow in the night.
“I can’t believe I forgot my umbrella,” Marla whispered. The passers-by were gone at this hour, and she was alone. Staying late at the office hadn’t solved her problem. If she had the umbrella, she wouldn’t have to watch him tonight.
Marla didn’t know when the old man started watching her from his apartment. He would stand in his window with his lacy black curtains nearly drawn and watch her come and go. To and from work, every day.
He never smiled, or waved, or even pretended that he wasn’t doing exactly what it seemed. He was bold; downright brazen about it now. The first time she smiled at him, trying to be friendly, and gotten nothing but an icy shiver down her spine in return. For the next couple weeks, she alternated between ignoring, scowling, flipped him off, and even yelling underneath his window, “I’m going to call the cops, creep!”
But she didn’t. There’s no law against leering at women on the street, even if that woman was your neighbor.
It didn’t matter how late she got home, he was always there. Spying on her. He would mouth silently; words almost but not quite recognizable. When it was quiet, she could hear his TV, in the apartment above, blaring bible sermons 24/7.
“Don’t let him get to you, Marla.”
She steeled her nerves and looked up into the rain. He was there tonight, black eyes peeking behind the red curtains. She looked away and hurried to the stoop of her building.
Something was different tonight. He seemed taller, and he was—smirking? Marla backed up into the street and looked up, but the old man was gone. The building was dark.
“Mr. Levay?” Marla shouted up at the window. No hint of movement or sound. “Weirdo.”
Marla ran up the stairs to her apartment, miffed that he didn’t have the decency to wait until she was inside. He’d never disappeared like that before. She slammed the door and shed her wet clothes in a trail to the radiator by the window.
She huddled in the soft red velvet curtains, trying to warm up her wet bare skin, and it struck her. “Those weren’t his curtains.”
“They were mine.”
Enjoy and good luck to all the other writers!
Flash Fiction Contest: Fairytaleish
Anna Meade (@ruanna3) over at Yearning For Wonderland is running another great flash fiction contest featuring the psychedelic and faery-ish visuals of Pinterest board: fairytaleish.The pinteresting writing contest is simple: 300 words based on one of the many visually-stunning choices on the Pinterest board. Complete rules are here. Only one week this time, so get your entries in SOON.
My humble entry:
The ancient house looked exactly like I thought it would.
I knocked, muttering, “I must be crazy.”
“Can I help you?” A gorgeous blond woman opened the door.
“Um…I thought…wait, is this Professor Mueller’s house?”
She smiled warmly. “Herr Mueller is my grandfather, Dr. Bonnet. He said you’d be coming today.”
The stories about him were true, then. The centenarian’s prescience was as legendary as his knowledge of esoterica.
We wound through the labyrinthine house, filled with overflowing bookshelves and ancient curios. In the back study, Albrecht Mueller was sunning himself by the window. He smiled at me, eyes sparkling behind bushy, white eyebrows.
“I know why you’re here,” he said.
His surety took me by surprise. “Then you know I won’t stop until I find them.”
“Dr. Bonnet, the faeries left centuries ago. For good reasons.”
I’d heard it all before. We stopped believing. We didn’t need them. We were all grown up now.
“We were wrong,” I stated unequivocally. “The Fae are the key to our future.”
Professor Mueller chuckled, “Ironic, isn’t it?”
“I need the location of the doorways.”
“Even if you find the three paths, you would almost certainly die in your attempt to find the Fae. They are not the wholly benevolent force portrayed in Disney stories,” Albrecht said. “Why would you attempt such a thing?”
It was a loaded question. A self-serving response and the knowledge would be lost to me forever.
“I’ve done the math, Professor. Without the Fae…we’re lost.” I steeled my voice with the truth. “Science has taken us as far as it can. We need the trinity—science, faith, and magic—or we’ll perish as a species. As surely as I’m standing here.”
“Strange answer for a physicist.” The old alchemist grinned. “But correct.”
Enjoy and good luck to all the other writers!