This month is NaNoWriMo, which means that I, like many other writers out there, am attempting 50,000 words in one month. Crazy, right?
I’m at 27,000 words currently. It’s been exhausting and stressful, contributing to a lot of late nights, but seeing the progress on my WIP and feeling the thrill of accomplishing so much has made it worth it for me.
However, it meant that I didn’t want to do a full prompt contest this month. Not only did I figure that most of you wouldn’t be contributing much, but also I didn’t have the energy or time for it. Instead, after receiving some feedback from you, I decided to hold a one-prompt contest.
The contest was supposed to be in celebration of my short story “Skinthief” being published on Havok. But due to some scheduling complications, I had to hold the contest after the story was already published. This was a problem because Havok only keeps a story available to the public for 24 hours; otherwise, you have to be a member to read it. So, if you want to read it, you’ll have to become a Havok member (which is really cheap, by the way, but I totally understand if not).
Now onto the contest itself! The word limit this time was 150 words (I just can’t help lengthening the word limit! We’ll see what the next one will be!).
I want to give a big thanks to everyone who participated. I loved reading all the creativity, and I wish I could choose more than one winner, but I can’t. (Unless you count the separate Facebook and Instagram winners.) So here are the winners!
It was his trademark. Green eyes, scrawled onto any crime scene where he rescued someone.
I had heard that there’s one thing in their appearance a shifter can’t change, and when they lose themselves, they hold tightly to that last vestige of their identity.
I remembered those green eyes. In a family of blues, there he was, screaming out his first breath into a world that didn’t deserve him.
When he was five, those green eyes were terrified when he accidentally shifted for the first time.
Those green eyes were solemn as they took him away to the war. The last time I saw him.
I stare across the alley at him, removing my ski mask. “I know who you are, David.”
He freezes at the name he barely recognizes. “How… How do you know?”
I smile. “I’m your mother.”~ Carrie-Anne Noble
Carrie-Anne Thomas (@carrie_anne.thomas) wrote a beautiful story told not from the perspective of the one suffering from this amnesia but from the perspective of his mother, and I loved it. I hope that she and her son stay reunited and that he can regain his memories.
They’re mine, move when I tell them to—but unfamiliar.
Everything is unfamiliar. The dark alley. The sounds of receding feet and approaching sirens.
From someone else’s blood on my hands, I think I won whatever fight just happened. From the dull ache to the right side of my head, I know I also lost.
I try grounding myself in something solid. Like my body.
I stand, catch a glimpse of my face in the only whole pane of a broken window. Young, black, five o’clock shadow. Is this me?
Yup. That’s me. Sean something. Still doesn’t seem familiar.
Spasms seize me. I double over in pain that sparks and stings.
When it passes, I see my reflection again. This time panic strikes.
It’s not the same face. It’s pale-skinned, red-haired, terrified.
No more familiar than the other.
Who—and what—am I?~ Abigail Falanga
Abigail Falanga‘s story was so immediate and gripping, full of panic and terror. I loved the details she included that immersed us in his struggle, as well as the idea of how he couldn’t stop the painful shifting from one form to the next. It was so unique and upsetting.
I apologize sincerely for my lack of consistency in posting. From starting two new jobs to NaNo, I’ve been very busy. However, I will be posting a story for December. I will make sure of it. It is being edited right now.
So . . . watch out for a story about a boy whose laundry money is being stolen by a mini dragon. 😉