The Story Behind the Story: A Success!

Please indulge me in this extra Story Behind the Story:

If you follow me on this blog or on Twitter, then you've heard me mention a group called NYC Midnight. They run writing contests throughout the year: screenwriting, flash fiction, short stories. A couple of the stories over on Fiction First were born as entries in NYC Midnight's 2013 Flash Fiction Challenge.

Last year, I entered my first NYC Midnight contest: their 2013 Short Story Challenge. I earned an Honorable Mention in Round 1--enough for me to feel great about the effort, but not enough for me to move on to Round 2.

This February, I entered their 2014 Short Story Challenge. I had one week to write a 2,500 word ghost story about racism that also featured a street performer. I came up with the premise of my story rather quickly. I spent 7 days struggling to write the actual words. By 5:30 pm the night before the story was due, I had a total of 800 words. Not good.

At that moment, I decided to start all over again. Same premise. New point of view. Only 24 hours to complete it. Cue the panic.

The story was due by 10:59 pm Saturday night. At 7:30 pm, I was still writing. Around 8-ish, I finished--and was 120 words over the contest limit.  I took a deep breath and short break and completed the fastest editing pass in my entire life. At little after 9 pm, I had a 2,500 word story. I uploaded the story to NYC Midnight's site, let out a sigh of relief, and let go. I still liked the premise of my story but had serious doubts about its execution, given the circumstances under which it was written. I figured my 2014 Short Story Challenge would end with Round 1 and not so much as an Honorable Mention.

Fast forward to last week, when the Round 1 results were posted. To my utter shock and amazement, the judges liked my story. They liked it so much they rated it #1 in my group. Holy crap.

My reward for such an awesome finish? Round 2! I got to do it all over again, only this time I had even less time. I had one weekend--this weekend--to write a 2,000-word story: a science fiction tale about sushi and a dentist. This story went much more smoothly and quickly this time around. I submitted it a few hours ago.

Now I wait. And wait. And wait. In a few weeks, I'll find out if my story was good enough to move me on to Round 3.

In the meantime, HOLY CRAP!

Look Who's 15!

The birthday boy. As you might guess from his expression, he is not a fan of having his picture taken. He's also in desperate need of a grooming.

My puppy turns 15 years old today! 

A few months ago, I didn't think I'd be saying those words. Last August/September, Benji went into kidney failure. Severe kidney failure. He lost 20% of his body weight and was refusing to eat. (If you'd smelled that prescription kidney-diet food, you'd refuse to eat, too.) The consensus was he wouldn't make it through the winter.

Yet here we are in spring (according to the calendar, anyway), and he's going strong. He's regained some kidney function. He's eating again and putting back some of the weight he lost. He's engaged and curious and active, albeit at a slower pace and with long naps in between. (Frankly, I'm jealous of his napping ability.)

We don't have any special celebration planned for today, but I think it's safe to say he'll be getting an extra treat or two as a reward for making it this far. Happy Birthday, Benji!

Another Benchmark Reached

It's 4:30 in the afternoon on Sunday, March 16, 2014. The sun is shining, the dog is snoring, and I completed Draft 3 of The Novel five and a half minutes ago. (That's 4:24:30, for those who are counting.)

The draft took me 10 months to complete. I cut two chapters and added six, making this draft about 4,000 words longer than Draft 2. The story is much fuller and richer now than it was before, thanks to the helpful ideas from my critique partners, but it is by no means done.

My notes for Draft 4 of The Novel. Each Post-It represents one change I need to make. Some changes are quick and easy: change X in chapter Y. Others are more elaborate and time-consuming: check all dialogue for XYZ.

I still have a Draft 4 to write. And then a query. And then a synopsis. Or maybe a synopsis and then a query. After that, I have to find potential agents and send out those queries and synopses. (Eek!)

But before all that, it's time to celebrate, perhaps with a dance around the living room and an extra piece of Dove dark chocolate.

The Story Behind the Story: The Portrait

I've never been much of a fan of Pablo Picasso's work. His cubist paintings, especially, sail right over my head. (The only exception to that is his mural Guernica, which I don't completely understand but I totally get the message.) So, when a friend invited me to go with her to the Picasso Exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago last year, I surprised myself when I accepted the invitation.

The idea was to meet up with a group of her writer friends, tour the exhibit, have lunch, and then write something inspired by the exhibit. Knowing how I felt about Picasso, I did not have high hopes for being inspired.

I was wrong.

The train ride from Chicago to my suburb takes a little less than an hour and 20 minutes. My friend's stop came first, about 45 minutes into the ride. I had another 30 minutes or so until my stop. That's when my Muse hit me with a bolt of lightning. By the time the train pulled into the station, I had my story.

That night, I played with it and polished it, but in essence, it was done. I had "The Portrait."

Which just goes to show: sometimes inspiration can come from the places you least expect.

Click here to read "The Portrait."

A Tale of Two Knees

I've been working on listening to my body lately: eating only when my body tells me it's hungry, sleeping when my body tells me it's tired, etc. But then, at the gym the other day, I ran into a problem. My body could not agree on what it wanted. The conversation went something like this:

Scene: Second treadmill in middle row of an ocean of machines at oversized, overpriced gym. Lots of bright busy TV screens on front wall, lots of shiny mirrors on left wall, lots of windows facing an snowy, icy parking lot on the right wall, lots of sweaty people on various treadmills, ellipticals, and stair machines, loud trendy music blaring.

(Hands put headphones over ears. Finger pushes play on iPod. Decidedly-not-trendy music begins playing. Body climbs on treadmill. Finger pushes Start button.)

MUSCLES: Go faster!

(Finger pushes Faster button.)

Minutes later...

Running Man by Simon Eugster via Wikimedia Commons

MUSCLES: Faster! Let's run!

(Fingers pushes Faster button until treadmill reaches jogging speed.)

MUSCLES: YES!

KNEES: Whoa! I didn't approve this. Slow down.

MUSCLES: More!

KNEES: That's enough.

MUSCLES: MORE!

KNEES: I said, enough! FEEL MY PAIN.

BRAIN: OUCH!

(Finger pushes Slower button.)

MUSCLES: Okay, we'll take a break.

Minutes later....

MUSCLES: Let's run again.

(Fingers pushes Faster button until treadmill reaches jogging speed.)

MUSCLES: Look at us go!

KNEES: Not again. I can't take this.

MUSCLES: Aw, come on. Just a little while longer.

KNEES: Nope. FEEL MY PAIN.

BRAIN: OUCH!

(Finger pushes Slower button. Body finishes workout at medium walking speed. Knees grumble for the next 12 hours.)

Can't we all just get along?