Love of Writing discussion
Monthly Short Story Contest
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Novemer 2017 - Things to Remember
Thanksgiving This YearAuthor: Patricia Fuqua Lovett
Word Count: 1,010
Fall was waving goodbye. Crunchy leaves showcasing hues of orange and brown filled the woods and unattended lawns. The sounds of wayward wild life and whistling hunters ushered in Thanksgiving the holiday of change.
*****
“The passing of time but not enough for you Bernard,” Mary Louise muttered as her youngest finished his breakfast.
“Ma, I’m ten years old now.”
“I know, but I still don’t want you to go.”
“It ain’t like I’m going far away. Whatcha scared of?”
“Mostly the older boys.”
“Why?”
“They won’t look after you the way your daddy and I always do.”
“Aaah Ma. You treat me like I’m still a baby.”
“That’s ‘cause you still are at least to me!”
“Billy is 13, and he won’t let nothin happen to me.”
“Billy is my oldest and you’re my baby.
“You mean, youngest.”
“Right.”
He tried to understand his Ma’s feelings. He was quiet for a while gazing outside the kitchen windows. What he saw was the tall field grass signaling that the farming crop season was over. From where he stood, he could make out the silhouette of Billy and two other boys near Billy’s age. They were pulling a small wagon load of wood that they’d gathered. They wanted to make sure they could feign off the cold. Oh, how he wished he could be right there with them. Weeks earlier he’d heard Billy and his friends discussing all that they’d need for their trip. The list was short: firewood, matches, a few blankets, water, and sandwiches. From what he could tell, they wouldn’t be that far from home. How could he convince his Ma that she could almost see him while they hunted?
“Ma.”
“Huh?” She answered without turning away from the kitchen sink.
“I bet if Dad were here, the answer would be yes. It’s not just Billy and his friends, you know, Mr. Trainor, Lonnie’s Dad, will be out there too.”
“Oh. Why do you think Mr. Trainor is going?”
“To make sure the boys are safe and to guide them through gun safety among other things.”
“What other things?”
“Well Ma for one thing when you get your prey, I mean turkey,” you have to dress the meat right away so meat don’t spoil.”
“Doesn’t spoil.” She corrected.
“Yeah. Doesn’t spoil. They have to pull the feathers off the dead bird right?”
“Yes. That’s only part of the process, Bernard.”
“What else is there? Eating it?”
Mary Louise gave out a hearty laugh, shook her head and gave Bernard a peck on the forehead. No. There’s still more to the process but we can talk about that later.
*****
She’d high hopes that her husband would be home in time for Thanksgiving. She’d not expressed that with the boys. She didn’t want to get their hopes up, so she kept the secret close to her heart. Afghanistan was light years away, and at any moment his leave home could be revoked. She’d communicated with him via Skype, and she could see the sliver of a cliff in the background surrounded by a large body of water, maybe a river or ocean, but he would not confirm or deny that his unit’s mission included being surrounded by a lot of water and mountains. He was the Command Chief of a small technology unit, but she felt that was only a part of his operation. He gave her only bits and pieces of information only to make her feel that he was safe. Common sense guided her thinking, however. How could anyone be safe when at any moment gunfire or a bomb could render a good soldier silent. This was his second tour of duty, and she’d experienced him guiding his troops through the rough terrain of the cliffs and mountainous regions.
“Mom. Mom.”
“What baby?”
“The potatoes are boiling over.”
Turning around to heap up the messy spill, she noticed the boys heading back to the house. “They’re back, Bernard.” But the response was that of the back screen door slamming. “Whack!”
As she ran to the porch, she heard the boys laughing and shouting. “Look at our big fat turkey and a bonus rabbit.” One of them yelled. Mr. Trainor had made his way to the porch. “I wanted to get the boys back home ahead of the storm.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Don’t worry Mary Louise. I showed them how to hunt. Now I’ll show them how to clean their kill.”
She was not as worried about picking the feathers and dressing both the bird and the rabbit as she was about her husband of 15 years showing up in time for Thanksgiving dinner. This year would be the second Thanksgiving missed if he missed this one. It wasn’t easy explaining his absence to the boys the first time, and she certainly didn’t want to repeat the heartbreak of his absence. To smooth things over, she’d planned a scrumptious dinner. They could play board games or strike up a football game with the neighbor boys afterward. All of this might, she hoped, work to keep their minds off their Dad’s absence. Perhaps Mr. & Mrs. Trainor and their boys would be their special guest. She would ask.
With all that she had to keep up with, she didn’t want to forget Bernard’s needs. He’s growing up, and there’s no denying that but he has to understand that things happen when they’re supposed to and not before. There is an order to life that she and his dad wanted to honor. How do you communicate that to a child? They only know a small part of life’s puzzle. Somehow she had to convenience him that she in no way wanted to keep him a little boy, no mother wants that for her child. The act of waiting for a child is always in conflict with a parent’s timeline of moving to the next step. Or is it?
“Knock, knock. What time is dinner?” She heard a welcomed familiar voice from behind her say.
“I knew you were coming.”
Sandy Oh. no. Tears falling! couldn't Elizabeth recognized the flower and go in search of him? It's better this way.I guess, sniff, sniff
Steve, you made me look up some Great Lakes (US) stories of 19th c shipwrecks to find the reference. In these parts, specifically, Long Point on Lake Erie, some people did the same thing as in your story, only they used a horse over here with a lantern. Called False Lights. (Wonder where they got the idea? Ha. I mean...villainous.)
Shelly, thanks. Yes, Elizabeth could, or might. Make up your own ending.
“To tAmbl,wi:d”(By Christene Britton Jones 990 words)
MISSION: COLONISATION MARS
OPERATON
• Colonization delayed.
• Initial site Australe Sulei of Planum Australe failed. Reports featured high mortality rate.
• Program already ten spakcredits over budget.
• Commander replacement before coming storm season in summer.
- Commander Charles Beaulieu - Guinea Numida Squadron
PRIMARY OBJECTIVE(S)
- Further develop Olympus Mons Colony
- Succeed at all cost.
SECONDARY OBJECTIVE
-Avoid hostilities
Mars sands swirled around everything at space station, tAmbl,wi:d, high on five mile cliff of Olympus Mons in Tharsis Volcanic Province overlooking Valles Marineris dry river bed.
Mars geodynamo had been reactivated in the past years to deflect cosmic rays via use of Molten Metals, Convection and Rotation but atmosphere, cloud cover and unfiltered radiation were still dangerously unstable.
More advanced radiation protocols were demanded.
Alien protective skin technology had been engineered.
***
“You mean those strangely mutilated cow bodies found abandoned in fields were the starting point of this technology?” Ali asked Pauline, the team leader.
“Well way, way back in 1998, Apligraf was developed in Canton, Massachusetts by Organogenisis,” Pauline replied.
“In those early days it was done via harvesting the subjects own skin, post-circumcision human neonatal foreskin and bovine collagen.”
She went on to tell Allie that Alloderm (LifeCell Corporation) Woodlands, Texas had then further created a skin that didn’t decry immunology or cause rejection.
A newer generation of Apligraf was further developed where the skin was not external: it became part of the body as a long term solution: it still had taken sixty days to grow and fuse into human skin cells”.
“Today it will only take ten days to genetically engineer to our body skin,” Pauline said reassuringly.
“And we will be a blue color,” she further added.
“Will it fade when we return to Earth?” Ali asked shuddering.
However Pauline was already walking out of the medical unit and away from her, and the question was soon forgotten by Ali.
***
Seven crew members and one excited passenger, eight blue figures had hurriedly entered the Obayashi Corp. Built Space Elevator in preparation for launching up the cable to a station 36,000 kilometers above Earth.
The car, capable of carrying up to 30 passengers, was filled to capacity with necessary equipment by the payload specialists and all of this had to be offloaded to yet another forward gate at 57,000 kilometers to their next destination on Mars.
“A week to station one and three months to Mars base tAmbl,wi:d,” Ali struggled to pronounce the word.
‘It’s a Mars word from the word tumbleweed”, Pay load specialist Henry sitting nearby explained.
Ali read early reports of the station tAmbl,wi:d named after the first unsuccessful experiments of terra-firming on Mars; when all of the plants had dried and torn away at ground level to tumble around and over in the desert climate.
It was hoped that this method of seed dispersal or propagulation would help propagate the vegetation when the seeds found and absorbed water.
***
On the journey in her sleep tube Ali often dreamed of a tall dark man coming towards her: he was in an old western movie, in a dry, desolate, deserted town where only tumbleweed rolled driven by winds.
Gasping Ali had awakened again bathed in sweat, blue beads of sweat on new blue skin.
***
Days passed amazingly fast for Ali as the elevator snaked its way through space.
There were seemingly endless daily medical tests for all of the crew that involved the drawing of blood, testing of respiration, measurements taken, weight charted and Psychological evaluations recorded in all of their individual medical logs.
Then there were nights, then hair on the back of Allie’s arms rose. An icy shiver ran down her back. She felt as if she wasn’t alone in that small space in her sleeping tube.
Someone else was there.
Someone was nearby.
Fear gripped her, her heart thumped loudly.
Slowly she turned, and there he was, the tall dark man of her dreams.
Allie’s mind screamed into darkness.
There was only darkness.
Night on base “tAmbl,wi:d” Mars.
***
Ali shivered uncontrollably! It was another of those horror filled nightmares that had been plaguing her.
Mission team medic, Sam had again sedated her with an injection of XR8Xanax then stayed with her till she settled back peacefully to sleep.
Darkness stirred on a perimeter compound fence surrounding the base buildings. It was red crawling dust that rippled against a flat surface, rocks seemed to distort, then fade back to normal.
An expected guest was coming.
***
Ali had walked as one asleep to the outer limits of the colony housing, opened the perimeter door past the suiting up airlock, then stepped outside directly into the swirling red dust, then she continued to walk.
He was standing before her.
Instantly her shrivelling body morphed into a whirling blue ball,that followed faithfully trailing along after the tall dark figure; they moved shadow like away into the far horizon rocks.
***
Lieutenant Commander Benjamin Walker stood beside his Commander Charles Beaulieu on the top observation deck of tAmble:wi,D: both watching Eli roll along after their expected guest for he had called many times before, both heading towards the nearby thrust fault lines.
“That makes two hundred and eighty nine desiccated disembodied souls: walking out of skins: to colonize and terra-form Mars,” Commander Beaulieu stated flatly.
“I will make out the death certificate for yet another radiation exposure,” Benjamin Walker said solemnly.
***
Eli would remain forever on Mars, one who no longer needed their earthly bodies.
At that moment Commander Charles Beaulieu clutched at his chest and slowly sank to the floor.
His Lieutenant Commander nodded, the old soldier’s wish to never leave behind his dead comrades on Mars, those “Thunder Chickens” now was granted.
“Sir,” Benjamin shouted, snapping to attention in a final salute to his dead Commander, Charles ‘Chuck’ Beaulieu, of the Turkey Squadron (Guinea Numida).
***
Mmmmmmmmmm lost my formatting in the middle of posting and tried to edit and that failed...sigh! Hate fighting the computer its a real battle some days . Off to get some coffee will return later....
Wow, Sandy. Loved it. A story after my own heart and style. Need that cool twist at the end. Only thing missing is a cat! LOL!! Just kidding. E
The Storm Before the Banquet by F. F. Burwick 996 wordsThe great storm was ravaging the land. Rocks tumbled down the cliff, and the river grew wild and tempestuous.
"Here is my invitation. I was told that both of you would guide me there!"
Garrett Goose looked it over, and said, "We are the ones appointed to bring any guest there. But this such a bad time to go there, in this raging storm. Do you really want to go now?"
"It will be fine there when we get there. But everything here is vulnerable now to perishing. I should not remain, and with having an invitation to that, I don't have to remain here."
"Very well," Garrett said, "but know that at this time we are pushing for having greater troubles in getting there. Do you have the courage for that?"
"Yes, there may be no other way, so we will deal with it. I want to go there."
"Alright then! Penelope! Get out things and let's get ready. We are going! We are bringing this last guest there."
They were soon on their way. "You had better get that map out, we will need it," Garrett told Penelope Pig.
Penelope looked in the covered bag she had brought, and shortly afterward she said, "It's not here."
"You mean you forgot it! We use it every time. How could you forget about it this time?"
"We needed the coverings in addition for going through the storm, and items for an emergency. I overlooked it this time."
"Well, go back for it. We can't just continue without it."
Penelope at length returned to them with the map. Garrett took it from her silently, he gave it a look, and they continued.
Toward that wild and tempestuous river the three now went. There was one important spot they needed to aim themselves toward. They stomped carefully across the drenched open country there, and this last guest had his feet well booted for that, and at length they saw the ropy bridge they would need. It reached from its place it was apparently firmly attached to still above the widened waters of the Litani River at an angle to a higher level along the cliff on the other side. The storm did not lighten up at this time, for it was only growing more severe.
There was the narrow way going along the side of the cliff. They went along this, close to the side of the cliff, with more protection from the wild wind and unending rain, and further from the drop on the other side, for they were going high up. At long intervals it would lead into a tunnel that led into the cliff wall, these tunnels slanted further up, and they were climbing the slope in those slowly. They would emerge much higher.
They continued on at great length, along the rather narrow incline going along the steeper wall of the cliff, as they guided the one who came to them to be the last guest, even as everything darkened and the storm raged on with only greater force.
They had gone a very long way through the darkened conditions. Then Garrett spoke, "It is just up this last slope, it's the last one. We can handle it."
The storm ravaged land they had crossed to come to the cliff was now far below. As they came over the side to see the very top, they were above the storm, and they saw the beautiful country before them. Elegant covered pavilions were seen further ahead.
"It is later than we thought. The Banquet begins shortly! We must hurry!" Garrett Goose showed concern.
At the front stood Terry Turkey. He saw the approaching group, and turning to the crowd within by the tables, mingling with each other, he announced, "Newly arrived, Garrett Goose, Penelope Pig, and Herman the Final One."
They entered the great pavilion, and Terry Turkey told them, "You have seating over here at this table, you see the seats for you. Here, meet the nobles, Sir Eaton Eagle, Sir Stanley Stork, Sir Patrick Parrot, Sir Osman Ostrich, and Lady Olivia Owl!"
"If the Final One is here, where is the soldier we still wait for", Sir Patrick Parrot asked.
"Look, he is at that third table over there, talking with those there. He doesn't seem to know where he is to be seated." Terry Turkey moved a ways in that direction, and called, "Sir Leo, you are to be seated over here."
Sir Leo excused himself from those he was speaking with, and he came to the table Terry Turkey indicated, one next to the one the newcomers were now at. Terry introduced to him the ones there, though they likely knew each other. "Sir Leo, here you shall sit with Wendell Wolf, and Colleen Cobra."
"The Child has come!" they all heard called out from a place further on. And then they saw him, dressed in splendid apparel. He came to the prominent place at the head of the Banquet not far from them. They had waited really for him, before they would begin at the feast, with the food in covered serving dishes placed already at each table.
He began with speaking, before he seated himself. "Welcome all! You have all overcome much, you may be credited, though you have had help where you didn't see it. Your troubles are behind. The places below are all perished from this great final storm. You have been found acceptable, and here on this mountain where you are with me, you will never see any more suffering or sorrow. There won't be any hurting of any of us anymore. Be glad, and show thanks! Let us feast together!" And he then sat at his prominent place.
The covers were lifted from the dishes at each table, and the attendees gladly partook from the cornucopia of rich elegant fruity food before them. And this feast went on very long, with much pleasure for all.
Crikey! what a wonderful range of stories this month. Judging is going to be as much a challenge as the story requirements were. Well done every single person.
This fall, I've been busy promoting my newest book WAR UNICORN, so it was great to get back into raw writing. Thanks for the problem, elements and link, Shae.What a difficult month to vote. Great writing, all.
Knock Just Twice (Shelly) I was waiting for Brown to be invited to dinner. Very humorous elements LOL to your epilogue tag.
Dewey's Diary (Elaine) I felt I was right there with Dewey. You MUST have had an actual journal as reference. So vivid. Wow.
Coming Home (Lynette) I felt like I was inside Danny's angry/confused mind. You made me cry. Nice tie-ins.
The Blue Anchor (Steve) Although (POV) not quite my cup of tea, you did a grand job with your thieves and murderers, and your ending twist.
Thanksgiving This Year (Patricia) Very emotional writing, as if you've been there/done that. The hope of those left behind.
Mission: Colonization Mars (Christine) Awesome SF writing. Good tie-ins. I fiddled with my fingers over the keyboard trying to figure out your title until I finally read it, anyway...down to the - LOL on me - explanation. Interesting ending. Nice. More, please.
The Storm Before the Banquet (F.F.) Loved your description of a mountain storm. I wondered if this was a Noah's Arc story, but there was only one of each animal. I think there's more to this story than meets the eye.
Oh. And just for the record, there's my story, too: Martin's Gift, about the returning soldier and white rose. But since I can't vote for my story, I didn't include it in the above summaries.
Thanks Sandy - Poldark was the inspiration - but most importantly huges thanks for spending the time writing your critiques.
Really enjoyed Martin's Gift - so touching - old school melodrama with a modern slant.
Have just voted using the Goodreads message link from Shae's profile.
Knock Just Twice By Shelly Heskett Harris 999 wordsLovely tale with that homespun grammar of country folk, added drama with an escaped convict, then the ensuing storm overshadowing the homecoming of Claire’s son…and all wrapping up with that final take down of the confused convict by her son that showed what her sons capability and job entailed…and duck tape good old duck tape to the rescue. Good motion to the story and nicely written Shelly.
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The story below is an edited excerpt from my WIP Black Cat and the Keys to the Treasure. Let's call it - Dewey's Diary....
Oh horrors of war, with the bravado of young soldiers turned quickly into men through their entry into a battle fire of hell on earth. Circumstances changed thus making the enemy a strange comrade through sharing moments together. You managed to fit so much detail into your story, varied scenario and thoughts shared via memories and diary notes. You left me hanging on a happy ending?
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Coming Home Word count 1011
Complex emotions unfolded in your soldiers rehab into his family again…you pulled them out and laid them bare, very professional. PTSD from battle to Thanksgiving dinner was a huge leap but you handled it. Flashbacks and memories healed by love and innocence of a child….love heals all ties said.
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The Blue Anchor– Cornwall England 1747 - Word Count: 967
How did Sam get to the Inn? I was so caught up in the descriptions in your story I must have missed it somewhere? The details and adjectives were superb. Guess I will have to reread the story…and that will be no hardship I can assure you. Is this a longer story/book?
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Martin's Gift by Sandy Carlson, 971 words
Sandy what a truly beautiful love story of unselfish unconditional love….loving someone that much that you hoped they would be happy and that happiness was more important that their own self or life. Sacrificing all for ones loves beloved. You put a valuable lesson in your tale of the returned battered soldier wishing forever the happiness of his Elizabeth. I would like to believe that he also found his happiness later in his life.
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Thanksgiving This Year Patricia Fuqua Lovett Word Count: 1,010
Patricia you spoke of a mothers true thoughts and concerns’ within your dialogue, worry about her youngest, her babies as they grew up….trying not to tie them to her apron strings and yet still hesitant to let them go off on their own. Understandable also as the father and husband is so far away and for so long a time leading soldiers in combat. A precious happy homecoming from a wife who was preparing for she knew he was coming.
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The Storm Before the Banquet by F. F. Burwick 996 words
Your story held me fascinated and I asked many questions of it, like was the river a fictitious one or not? Admit that I had to go online to find that out, and as soon as I did all the puzzle pieces flew, and then fitted into place. That was the anchor of the whole story, the storm, climb, banquet and characters added depth and intrigue, very cleverly put together.
Loved reading all of your stories it is definitely a favored time of the month for me always.My votes have been now been sent into Shae via messages here on Goodreads.
FF, You out do yourself with each story. I didn't think about Noah's Arc I had an animal heaven from the start. Good one.noah's
Christene, First off I want to know more about a place where the man of your dreams ends up in your bed. I don't read much SF so had to read your story twice. The second time I could see the thought that went into the names. Enjoyed it
Shae, I sent my votes to your email, so hope you check there, too.
Patricia, I liked the way you wove the story of their lives between her conversion with her son. Nicely done.
Shea, I have lost the address to send my votes. Please send it again.
Wow! LOOK at all the great last min stories... Nice... Okay. So. Voting is open. If you submitted a Story, Please vote for Your three top, first place, second place, and third place. And you can't vote for yourself.
You can send your vote to me by message here at Goodreads or to my email at s.hamrick.books at sbcglobal.net (change the at and take out the spaces; avoiding spam) and I will tally them all.
Thanks to everyone for participating, commenting, and making this a great place to be.
OR you can send it to my gmail ... slphamrick @ gmail.com(take out the spaces... again, trying to avoid robot spams. :) thanks )
Christene - Blue Anchor Question. The answer to: How did Sam make it to the Inn? In the first paragraph you will see that Beth turned for home without seeing the HMS Defiant was already on the rocks. So if a survivor managed to make it shore he would have time to make it to the beach - and you know that Sam was a local boy so he could not believe his luck to be close to home. We see Beth get back to the Inn freezing cold just as all the kerfuffle goes on with the soliders arriving and runs upstairs to change. THEN she finally spots the wreck. So quite some time has passed.
For dramatic licence we focus the beach scene and the supposed certain death of Samuel. We can't give it away to the reader or else the seeds sown in the previous paragraphs about his presumed death would be useless. Also when Sam is posted as dead - he can start his new life afresh away from the Royal Navy.
The story was created for this competition. Inspired by Treasure Island and Poldark - it was the only thing I could think of to get all the 'requirements'! Thanks so much for your interest Christene.
Thanks, Shelly.Shelly wrote: "Patricia, I liked the way you wove the story of their lives between her conversion with her son. Nicely done."
Shelly wrote: "Christene, First off I want to know more about a place where the man of your dreams ends up in your bed. I don't read much SF so had to read your story twice. The second time I could see the though..."Hey Shelly the place where the man in your dreams/often dreamed of/She felt as if she wasn’t alone/Slowly she turned, and there he was, the tall dark man of her dreams/Night on base “tAmbl,wi:d” Mars/An expected guest was coming/He was standing before her...this is the sequential line briefly.
As for materialization of "the man of your dreams" I used a poetic license with 'mind projection to control or manipulation that lets you still interact with the characters on more of a normal level'....its Sci Fi for sure. Btw this is the briefest outline that I could cobble together to meet story requirements here...my whole story is about 2500 words currently.
Steve wrote: "Christene - Blue Anchor Question. The answer to: How did Sam make it to the Inn? In the first paragraph you will see that Beth turned for home without seeing the HMS Defiant was already on the rock..."Steve many thanks for that lengthy description I guess I was so caught up in the whole story that I didn't 'create' more leads as I was following it...as you say with only a 1000 words limit it is indeed a challenge for us to fit in all of our plot. You gathered up all of those lose threads into your story without that huge bulk of the Poldark saga (which I read quite a few years ago and loved it but think I shall reread yours and enjoy it more today).
Well developed story Elaine. Very nicely done. Elaine wrote: "The story below is an edited excerpt from my WIP Black Cat and the Keys to the Treasure. Let's call it - Dewey's Diary....Kimberlee settled in her easy chair in front of the fire. She draped a la..."
A Very nice story, Sandy. Did he ever get his girl? Could it be that HIS Elizabeth was not the same as the rich guy's girl? Sandy wrote: "Thanks for the challenge, Steve.The discussion of "a" or "the" or "d" versions of Turkey set my mind swirling. I thought and thought of a way to give a twist to these elements. I'm hoping using a ..."
votes are trickling in. I have so far...Shelly's, Steve's, Sandy's, Patricia's, Fred's, and Sharon's.
Judging: The story will be judged on creativity, proper grammar, good punctuation, and overall good quality of the story.
Voting: Please vote for first, second, and third place.
You are not allowed to vote for yourself. If posting this month, you MUST vote, in order for your story to remain eligible.
So, If you haven't already, read the stories (or as in my case re-read them) and get your votes into me by tomorrow, November 30th, at 9 pm EST.
Stay warm and thanks to everyone who participated. winners will be announced tomorrow night.
Patricia wrote: "A Very nice story, Sandy. Did he ever get his girl? Could it be that HIS Elizabeth was not the same as the rich guy's girl? Sandy wrote: "Thanks for the challenge.The discussion of "a" or "..."
Isn't that just part of the mystery of a short story? I have several possible endings. I AM glad, though, that Martin chose to live. I'm guessing, since his character is so compassionate, that he will live a good rest of his life no matter what.
Shae wrote: "votes are trickling in. I have so far...Shelly's, Steve's, Sandy's, Patricia's, Fred's, and Sharon's.
Judging: The story will be judged on creativity, proper grammar, good punctuation, and over..."
Shae my votes were sent in on 28th Nov to your link here on Goodreads...please let me know if you haven't seen them...thanks
I have them, Christene, thanks. Apparently, I wasn't paying attention to my list very well. must have been a late night thing. :)
Well, the votes are in and we had a tie. Martin's Gift (by Sandy) took First Place... Congratulations.
Knock Just Twice (by Shelly) took Second Place... Nicely done.
and Third Place was a tie between
The Blue Anchor (by Steve)
and
Thanksgiving This Year (by Patricia)
Great stories.
I haven't had a chance to write much about each of the stories for feedback so I'll send you all something in a few days. NANO is ending and I have 5000 words to go... eekkk. teach me to not stay on top of my word count. Ah well, it was Thanksgiving after all.
And Sandy, I have a gift for you for taking first place. a $20 gift card. I will be contacting you this week about getting it to you. Congratulations.
Shoot. I got tied up this evening and didn't get my votes before the deadline. Congrats to the winners. Great stories everyone. Nice surge at the end. On to December.
Congrats to everyone who entered and of course especially for the Sandy Shelly and Patricia - all fantastic stories this month.
I'll be hosting January so must get my thinking hat on to kick the year off with a bang. Meanwhile December beckons.
What a great way to tart the day , . . t o find out my story took second place. Thanks guys this means so much to me. because the competition was so high.I did notice it helps if your name starts with "S". LOL.
Congs Sandy, Steve and Patricia . I loved your storys
Wow. Smiling big-like here. Thanks for the votes. And congratulations to Shelly, Steve, and Patricia, too.I found this month to be the most difficult voting challenge yet. I truly liked each and every story. There were ties in my voting slots as well, but I could just pick one. Well done, all. Great writing.
Big well deserved congratulations to Sandy, Shelly, Steveand Patricia... this month there was such a great collection of quality stories; everyone is improving their craft by leaps and bounds.
Thanks all for your votes. I am honored to share 3rd place with Steve. Congratulations writers. Great stories. Thanks Shae for hosting the November stories.
I'm afraid I missed the voting time frame. I've been terribly distracted this week with family issue. Also, I'm not sure who/how we were supposed to vote. Sorry!
Mod
I, too, am working on my super hero story and it is nice to take a break and write a monthly story .However, it is nice to be able to stretch out word wise. I may start another book.
Shelly and Glenda I too am trying to utilize Steve's tips for writing on my superhero story....I tried to include those tips in this months story as well...its all a learning curve for me to improve my writing
Shae, thanks for posting the link on a way to write a short story. Great information.
I can't find the tips from Steve will you put them in again, please?
https://mythcreants.com/blog/This was the orignal 7 steps to writing a cracking short story posted by Shae in the first introduction to this month's challenge.
On balance I think these stories are among the best montly stories I've read from this group. Superb!
By the way - an historical note on Blue Anchor - the English law as applied to wreckers is true.