
It's officially 25 days until D100D Day.
You have 25 hours (from 10PM EST) to construct one sentence of fiction, 25 words long, about anything you like. (Please be reasonable, and stay on the upper side of classy, thanks.) Keep in mind what you think makes a good sentence in fiction. Take care stacking your words.
Winner chosen by 4 anonymous judges and announced on Thursday.
Please leave your sentence in the comment area - don't forget to leave your email address!
DEADLINE: Tuesday Jan. 6th 2009, 11PM EST
PRIZE: A mini package of VOGs** now, and a free signed copy of
The Dust of 100 Dogs the minute I get it (which might be 25 days from now...or might be a little bit earlier.) (Or, opt for the endear-yourself-to-the-struggling-author package, which saves postage and comes all at once!)
(**VOGs = very odd gifts)
Good Luck!
53 comments:
Nothing today was as I had expected because when I entered the room there were rectangles instead of circles, children instead of adults; what's next?
shelcows AT gmail DOT com
Marvin shuddered. His life forever changed. He would begin again today, pretend yesterday never was. He pushed off the wall beginning the long walk home.
crazypoptart68@yahoo.com
This is going to be such crap and I apologize in advance:
When that diploma is placed in your hands you realize that you now have to find a job, a roommate, and a life; oh wonderful.
I never said I was a writer. :P
livsbookreviews@yahoo.com
It was a dark and brainy blog, the kind of blog that sets your mind on edge, leading it heedlessly towards thoughts better left unthought.
You would do this to me after having spent all day yesterday writing poetry for English class. Miserable.
Anyway, I really want the book :) So here goes nothing:
"A prince battles for his kingdom in an act so bold to erase the mistakes in his past and gain the love of the princess."
Thank you English class :) haha
Cool contest!
A signed copy of The Dust of 100 Dogs would be great! XD
Here's my entry:
I stared at the man who viciously murdered my parents--while I watched--and did nothing; I just waited for the right moment to come.
And my e-mail: bookluvercarol(at)gmail(dot)com.
I came home to a crime scene and a dog that just wagged her tail, welcoming me home from an evening out with my husband.
From the steps, I watched the men enter, and the light came in through the window in the door as it swung back and forth.
As we relax here on the couch and ponder life, we are perplexed as to why it is that cats are just so damn strange.
A possible thought from Sugar and Gracie, my dogs, in regards to what they might be thinking about their newly adopted kitty sister.
jmmteach@gmail.com
My knowledge of this perplexing situation was limited, but I found my self get involved and it was the dumbest shit I have ever done.
^^ That's my sentence. I could have not one any better then that. Worth a shot, right.
Book Fanatic 101
with.harmony@gmail.com
(too lazy to sign on blogger)
And before class Dennis Earwiggler fled, going home in Jerome's Kia, leaving Meryl Norby of Plattsburg quietly resting, sowing trouble underneath Valerie's wretched yellow Zephyr.
Zephyr and Kia are cars, in case you didnt know. I didn't. I am unashamed to say I used google quite a bit finding words. (Kia, Zephyr, Jerome, Meryl). I do belive the above is the most creative thing I have come up with since I "wrote" a "book" in 3rd grade, after much prompting from the teacher. Time to go shorten my reading list.
Disgusted, Kirsten ground the white rose into the pavement with her boot’s heel, and strode away muttering that even the prettiest things can have thorns.
"I stood there, thinking that the green leaves falling from the tree was an uncomfortably big metaphor for my life."
That's a heavy edited line from the story I'm working on. It is also pretty bad because of the editing I did to it, but oh well. I don't even know if it makes sense. It makes sense in my head, anyway.
khyrinthia at gmail dot com
Knowing the fate of humanity depended on his performance in this bizarre staring contest, Roger quailed the first time the alien lizard licked its eyeball.
She was not entirely sure what had happened with Jake, but it was becoming increasingly clear that, most likely, she would never see him again.
Jenny's first snow brings the sharp peppery snap of winter to the air where the world is transformed into a wonderland and where energy is neverending.
She could almost hear the chaos building in the air. It was the city of her dischord now, city of the golden apple. Eris laughed.
---------------------------------------
Once again, my own writing and musings has inspired my entry. It was originally an idea for a poem, but I've been thinking about the goddess Eris and her apple of dischord and how the golden apple could replace the "Big Apple". I have weird thoughts.
Paradox
paradoxrevealed (at) aim (dot) com
Every morning, the same morning. Eyes slit against the assault of sunlight, stomach roiling, every footfall a wretched thud through his body.
The terrier was watching our conversation as if with enough effort she might understand, or at least telepathically will some more french fries her way.
sfeldsteinATcomcastDOTnet
With 243 people onboard, not one person on the Virgin Galactic spacecraft knew anything about the creature they would all, eventually, become intimately aware of.
The puppy, asleep in her suburban crate, twitched in anticipation of her bloodiest hunting dream yet – only why did her squirrels always taste of kibble?
diana (at) dianapeterfreund (dot) com
Her backpack was loaded with the day’s school supplies: a semi-automatic weapon, flak jacket, hit list, a can of Red Bull and a raspberry PowerBar.
One sentence, 25 words, all fiction (or is it?!).
xoxo
He wasn't going to make it out this time. He knew it; they knew it. Reasonably, there was no point in fighting back.
Screw reason.
:) Fabulous contest!
Did not want to wake up...let alone, go anywhere; however, one can only turn down husband 999,999 times before said husband files for divorce.
leslilly@hotmail.com
The sun worked as well as any alarm clock I could afford, waking me with enough time to ensure my sister made it to school.
--
I kept trying to write something from the middle of a story, but set-up came easier. And now I want to write about Sarah, Mandy (the little sister), and their cute-if-dirty apartment. Darn you.
inbedwithbooks AT yahoo DOT com
The darkness of night surrounded him once more. He hated it and loved it at the same time. This time, he was ready.
His words exploded from the silence piercing her soul and shattering the very foundation of her life she diligently sheltered from the cold cruel world.
okelberry.chris AT gmail.com
The first time she stumbled upon a dead body, she figured it was a fluke, but by the third one, she really began to wonder.
smithsusanl AT gmail DOT com
I'll go with the classic line xD
Once upon a time, there was...a dog who happened to be extremely intelligent, however, he now faced a crisis: to win his true love.
:D
thanks for the contest
stephanie
He was strange.
No friends except a dog named Opossum.
A birthday present.
Opossum wasn’t much of a talker,
but he was a good listener.
bacarleton at gmail dot com
She flung herself from the top of the lighthouse and halfway down decided to fly, so she opened up her arms desirously and took flight.
email address: dlisetts05@hotmail.com
I enjoyed reading these comments, very interesting.
Here's mine:
How many authors does it take to change a lightbulb?
Answer: 11 (one to actually change it and the other 10 to critique the work)
LOL, just a silly little joke, but I'm sure you know what I mean.
Deidre
deidre_durance at hotmail dot com
The monochromatic design was shot to pieces by an explosion of colour
Only a warrior faces the wind scratching their throats, the sweat on their necks, and the agony of pumping thighs.
Yes, I hate morning workouts.
sentas_cry516@hotmail.com
I had only felt this sad twice before. Once when my mother discovered she has cancer and the other when my favorite book was spoiled.
Whew, who knew that a 25 word sentence would be so difficult!
ylin.0621 AT yahoo DOT com
Francine yanked at my lace baby hat with her freakishly strong toddler arms until the chin strap made me gurgle. Obviously I lived, but still…
Great contest, Amy!!
When the snow gnome emerged, I came *this close* to snowplowing him and his stupid red hat, but I sprayed his face with powder instead.
>.< I don't see the comment I made...stupid computer...if it's there, forget about this one...
Why yes, I do like to write and lie, but I don't call it lying at all, I call it imagination.
It was something like that...
ttt1612@yahoo.com
There is a man named Richard and he owns a candy store, but if the sign says CLOSED please do not knock on the door!
"... when the dog bites, when the pirate barks, when I'm feeling badass... these are a few of my favorite things." It was a bad musical.
The water was shivering cold and so was the feeling that had run down my spine when I gazed into the creatures bright yellow eyes.
oh hi.
Sarah walked into Starbucks and was surprised to see a familiar face behind the counter. "Large coffee," she murmured. Instead, he pulled out a ring.
aggiehearts182@yahoo.com
A sentence describing successive numbers, for example, could stretch to infinity, and one containing clauses with grammatical conjunctions such as: and, could go on forever.
*chis mclean (skaterfrk1233@aol.com)
Well when...I was just sitting there, she came out of nowhere, like a thief, and tore her love right from my waiting heart.
Adamp1989@aol.com
"Or when you see a group of people all wearing the same hat or shirt, you know that they are most definitely tourists,” James explained.
"Or when you see a group of people all wearing the same hat or shirt, you know that they are most definitely tourists,” James explained.
(this is my second time posting, I forgot my email address)
genevieve_swords@yahoo.com
I was standing in the kitchen drinking coffee, hair looking like I’d taken 10,000 volts and I was wearing bunny slippers when the doorbell rang.
jessjacobs@mac.com
The wasted ink doesn't seem wasted when it nearly glitters as it dries on the thick and smooth paper, the color of worn piano keys.
plentyofpaper234@aol.com (with Heather in the address bar or somewhere at the beginning of the message, please.)
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