I’ll Take The Ninth

This isn’t government of which I speak. It’s the NYC Midnight short-story contest. “Flash fiction” is another term used in the contest, though I’ve come to discover I don’t much like it. It makes me think of floods. A flood of words. Eh.

Back to my point. For the last couple of months I have involved myself in a long and grueling short-story-writing contest. In the contest, I have written three 1,000-word short stories, each in a 48-hour span of time that have adhered to genre, setting and object stipulations. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t so grueling, but those three two-day periods I was all stressed out.

My effort in this last round was one that didn’t score very highly, which didn’t surprise, as I didn’t much like the story after I had let it set in my head for a few days. And this was after I submitted it. So it was with little surprise yesterday that I found out I would not be advancing to the next round. I would have had to finish in the top five out of 20.

The time came to check my results, but it came as an afterthought. So I clicked here and there. And it wasn’t until the click after “there” when I started to prepare myself for a 20th-place finish. How would I feel? I knew the story wasn’t great, but I mean, that bad? I had begun even to believe that I had finished last. Well, at least I had the spark of my 2nd-place round two finish.

And finally, I reached the page and there were the top 5. Alas, my name was not on the list. Oh please may I not have finished last. And, wouldn’t you know it, I finished 9th. Ninth place out of 20. That’s pretty awesome.

I have also received e-mails from the NaNoWriMo folks this week. I’m tempted to participate again. Dammit.

Short Story Comeback

A few weeks ago, I scored a gut-wrenching, stop-writing-now three points out of 25 in the first challenge in round one of the NYC Midnight short story contest. It didn’t matter. There were two challenges in the round, and the second one was to take place that weekend.

So, confidence slightly shattered, I let the second assignment percolate in my head and proceeded to come up with “The Goodbye Cliff,” which I turned in 48 hours later. I hadn’t expected much, and in fact let go of it a little bit. I even overlooked some bad verb tenses and submitted it a full two hours before it was due.

Buoyed by positive feedback from other participants on the forum, I allowed myself to feel a little okay about my attempt. Nevertheless, I expected little. I did the normal, hopefully healthy adult thing. I thought about the process. Writing the two stories was a lot of fun, even though it came with that same writerly kind of anguish that emerges when the effect you want to achieve is still a couple of late-night/early-morning hours off. That’s part of the fun. Now maybe I won’t wait for contests.

Well, it’s not over yet. Yesterday, the results were posted, and I’m happy (and somewhat shocked I must say) at the comeback I pulled off. I scored an 18 out of a possible 25. Eighteen! I think my stomach dropped a little bit. I actually cupped my hand over my open mouth. Round two. This should be a reality show!

Not really.

So with this little personal writing victory, I advanced to the second round, thus earning myself another assignment and another 48 39 hours in which to do it. I couldn’t wait to get the assignment.

And then I did. The genre? Historical fiction. Fuck. The setting? A fucking dentist’s office. And I have to include a leather jacket. I’ve written nothing.

The Writing Shaft

In about 15 minutes, I’m going to get my assignment for round 1.5 of the NYC Midnight Madness Creative Writing Challenge. Starting at midnight in NY (and 2 p.m. Saturday my time), I will have 48 hours to complete a 1,000-word short story.

A few weeks ago I played the same waiting game for round 1 when I finally received notice I was to write my story in a romantic genre in a roller coaster, making sure somewhere in there I included a straw. I hope I fare a little better in this round than I did in the last. If I don’t get enough accumulative points between the two, then I’m done with the contest. But so far, it’s been fun.

So how did I fare last time? Well, uh, okay so there are 15 people in my group. I finished 13th with three points. The first person in my group got 25. (Ahem.) Additionally, the two people below me didn’t have points. There were zeroes by their names. And according to the rules, the lowest you can get is 1. So I’m thinking they didn’t participate. So (ahem) I came in last.

I think I’m okay with it. It actually kind of made me laugh. I thought about the story. The cheesiness of it. I thought about all those messages for artists and writers and painters and other muse chasers that rejection is part of the process. Like death is part of life. It’s a learning process and all that. I down with that.

Still, it was a bit funny. I got great feedback after I posted it on the public forum. Putting it out there like that was a big enough move in itself. So it’s all good. And, really, kind of amusing.

Well, a little sound alerted me to the reception of my latest assignment. Shall we take a look? Hmmm. Looks like they sent the link to the standings instead of the assignment. Awesome. Gonna go get some coffee then.

A Creative Write

This post is a bit late, but I wanted to follow up on my participation in last weekend’s NYC Midnight Creative Writing Challenge.

I submitted the story, which I posted here, with nine minutes to spare. That could be a bit misleading. I had plenty of time to submit it, but I am a firm believer in letting something sit a while and then making another visit. I am also a firm believer the fact that anything can be edited until eternity and it still won’t be complete. So it was with caution I approached the last draft.

Thankfully, my fears of wanting to rewrite certain parts were unfounded. Deadlines are good. I have written a novel before, thanks to National Novel Writing Month. But I’ve not really attempted a short story. And aside from a playwriting class a few years ago, I’ve not taken any writing classes. So I wasn’t sure how this process would pan out.

NYC Midnight: Genre, Location, Object

NYC Midnight has just notified us of the genres, locations and objects we’re to write on. I decided two days ago to participate and didn’t start getting nervous till this morning.

It’s been 70 minutes since I received the assignment but have yet to write a word. Well, besides these ones. I’ve got some ideas percolating, so we’ll see if I can get any more movement from this walk I’m about to take. I’m hoping to shake up my creativity a bit. Or something like that.

Okay. Later.

There’s Something About Flash Fiction

Despite living in New York for almost six years, I somehow managed to miss completely the existence of the NYC Midnight contest for writing and filming types. So I am grateful for the circuitous route that led me to it the other day.

There it was. The Creative Writing Championships Flash Fiction 2008. My blood popped. Or boiled. Or flowed faster. Whatever the correct metaphor is. I’ve never taken a writing class. Wait. That’s a lie. I wrote a play in a playwrighting class and lobbed up some softballs to one of the keenest eyes I’ve ever witnessed at New School.

Something happened when I saw the contest with an August 5 registration deadline. Excitement. Then disappointment. Too late. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was it really an August 5 deadline? So I went back and, sure enough, in their desire for more money (thank you), the deadline had been extended. I signed up.

And now I’m looking forward to staying up all weekend starting tomorrow at 2 p.m. to write 1,000 words that are supposed to include plot, character, and all that other stuff they teach you to make sure you include in order to create a good story. At midnight NYC time, I will receive an e-mail that includes the directions to follow. I’ll have to adhere to the genre and setting they give me, as well as include an object of their choice in a 1,000 word story.

There’s just something about this kind of thing that does stuff to my blood.

All is Well With the World Again

I have Internet access at home. Unfortunately, I have decided to sacrifice my nutritional well-being in order to surf the cyber seas from the comfort of my own bed. There are some things in life that are just more important, and I feel the need to be connected at all times. There isn’t even an on/off button for the modem.

My next purchase will be the Apple AirPort Extreme Base Station, which will allow me to access the Internet from my roof, without being connected to wires. This is all so exciting for me. I am slowly coming to terms with the guilt I have been feeling over not having a day job. This U.S. work ethic has made it hard for me to be satisfied with only reading and writing.

I went to the temp agency, which I’ve mentioned. Although the woman wasn’t convinced I was a woman (a gender story that is funny but not nearly as interesting as my others), I thought I made a good impression. I mean, I type fast and everything. I called the next day and there was no work. I called the day after and left a message. She didn’t call back. And yesterday? Well, it slipped my mind. I’ll call again next week.

But I gotta say, I am in NYC, but because of school, I have not had a chance to really get to know the city. So this is what I’ll be doing: Central Park, Chelsea Piers, galleries, museums, stoop sales, and a stable diet of oatmeal is what I’m looking at for the summer. Also, and most significant of all, I will read and write. Since school ended, I have read three books and am on page seven of a short story. I’ll begin book #4 tomorrow most likely and will continue the story. Maybe. I may ditch the story for lack of inspiration, in which case I’ll just think of another one. So this is my plan for the summer. We’ll see how long it lasts. Another good thing about the summer is that I’m having a couple of visitors: one for me, especially, and the other for my apartment. Mary C. will hit town at the end of June for a few days and I’m really excited about that. And some of you may remember Stephanie. She’s paying my roommate and I a couple of hundred dollars to crash on the couch we don’t quite have yet for two months. It’ll be nice to catch up. I went to a birthday gathering this evening. It was fun. I was schooled in the art of salsa and merengue. I hate salsa. I can’t do it. I couldn’t do it when I had a short lesson a couple of years ago and I can’t do it now. Merengue is another story, though. That’s nice and easy and lots of fun. I was supposed to go to Ginger’s, which is a dyke bar a couple of stops from me. I didn’t make it, though. I’m going tomorrow night instead. By the way, there is really no interesting drama to speak of from the other night. I was bored listening to the story, so I won’t waste your time. The meeting was cool. The format seems corny at first blush but it does get the group talking and you tend to find out some interesting stuff about one another and about what others are thinking. One of the questions was What do you find most attractive about yourself? I said “my glasses.” I got laughs, which is what I was going for. GO SPURS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!