Hero of the Ball and Quality of a Soul
Two (very) short stories
If I’m being honest, writing competitions aren’t something I’ve devoted much time to. There’s no clever reasoning behind this. In fact, this is probably a big oversight on my part. After all, awards are one of the few things that a writer can use to compile a CV of sorts.
The NYC Midnight challenge, is one that I have entered a few times however.
I find its unique format provides a great opportunity to work the creative muscle in unexpected ways, it’s usually quite fun, and recently, it’s helped guide me in identifying which levers I need to pull to get a specific reaction out of a reader (or judge)
In theory, this will translate into improving my writing down the line.
The standard format of the NYC Midnight comp is as follows:
On the day of the competition each entrant is given a genre, an action and a key word. They have twenty-four hours to come up with a story. There are various categories, but the format I’ve entered most often is the 250 word flash fiction challenge.
Below are the submission’s I made to the most recent competition. Both got top ten placings (I think I read somewhere, that this is within a pool of 5000 entries) which promoted me through to the final round. As a bit of a shift in gear, I’ve posted the two stories below, along with the feedback I received from the judges. I’ll then provide a bit of commentary on how I used this feedback in the next round to “play the game” a bit.
Bear in mind, I had less than a day to come up with these…..
Round One:
Genre: Action and/or Adventure
Action: Opening a bottle of champagne
Word: class
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Hero of the Ball
Those goons musta thought they hit the lucky dip when Josh handed Mary over like a freaking Christmas hamper. One eye on that flashin’ steel and our boy shat his pants. They were probably already picturing Mary’s prom dress pulled up around her waist, panties ripped down, head buried in a pillow. Sick Bastards.
Karma’s delivered by different Gods than luck though.
My elbow crashed into the first goon’s temple. Dropped him. The other one took Mary by her pits, tryna drag her into the open van door. Fool backed himself into a corner though.
With me.
Impress Mary. Pop Champagne. Head to Master suite.
Last Tuesday, my plan looked pretty sad. Mary dating Josh; prom looming and she still didn’t even know my name.
I ain’t a nerd or nothin’ I’m the damn starting fullback. Girls are thick when it comes to sports though, y’know? “Quarterback,” stuck in all their heads. To them, if you’re not that-- not Josh-- you’re not shit.
Impress Mary. Pop Champagne. Pop other things.
After I’d messed up our second goon--I’m talking nose where his mouth should be, messed up. I picked up Mary, already tasting that Champagne. Joshy got himself taken hostage though.
“Just let me go and I’ll let him go,” said the first goon.
I laughed.
“You think he’s wortha dollar after that?”
I threw the knife, hit him square. Pure class.
All she sees?
“Unnecessary risk.”
“Overkill”
Pfffffffffff.
“Haven’t you ever seen Rambo, Mary?”
Told ya. Girls are thick.
---
My thoughts:
The angle I was going for here was to take the piss out of the action/adventure genre a little bit. Our protagonist was meant to come off as a meathead who has watched too many action movies. I was hoping the reader would recognize they’re not “meant” to be rooting for him, and pick up the message that he’s missed the point of what it means to be a “hero.” No character arc for him, but rather a shift in allegiances for the reader.
Judging by my feedback, I think the judges just assumed I was fully on board with my main character’s selfish plan, which means it probably read as a very one note story.
The feedback:
Judge One:
This goes in the "needs work" section as I can't be sure whether this was intended or not:
The protagonist decries Josh and the others for wanting to defile Mary, when his plan was essentially the same. To be nice, get her drunk and have sex with her. It seems he's a "nice guy" who feels he put "nice" in, so sex should fall out.
If this was your intention, then it adds another layer to the story but if it was not, have a think about what you *did* intend and tweak accordingly. The protagonist is brave and it's fantastic he stopped Mary from enduring such an awful experience but it's unclear how she goes from being under threat of SA, to "unnecessary risk" and "overkill" - unless she was evaluating him for some reason. And if that be the case, some clarity in the main body would help.
Judge Two:
The narrator's arc is rather flat. Even in such a short narrative, it would be exciting and satisfying to experience a bit more of a journey; would it be possible for there to be some kind of meaningful shift rather than a mere confirmation of the fullback's initial position?
Round Two:
Genre: Fairy Tale and/or Fantasy
Action: Running from something
Word: instead
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Quality of a Soul
Over in Shackleton Village, there used to be a saying, “It’s a damn good thing that Jenkins boy is stuck in the kitchens.” You could talk to any local teacher or Dennis Jenkins Senior himself and you’d get the same mantra. “If that boy ever tastes a lick of power, this county will burn to the ground!”
To me, this never made sense. Sure, Dennis Junior occasionally tossed soiled pots across the restaurant floor without warning. Sure, he may or may not have had something to do with the tainted soup scandal of ’33. But if you knew anything about his twin brothers and his father, you’d understand.
Naturally, when Miss Daisy spread the news she’d spotted Dennis walking back from the crossroads, people got nervous. They say the sale of a soul—no matter how wretched—earns you one wish and twenty-four hours to enjoy it, before Lucifer takes you.
Upon hearing this news, Dennis Jenkins Senior all but accepted his restaurants would close down within the workday and he’d be scrubbing pots in back rooms for a lifetime. The twins assumed they’d each be outnumbered and pinned down for nightly whippings.
On the weight of Miss Daisy’s warning and on the weight of the town mantra, Dennis’ family boarded a train before the sunset flared red.
By dawn, Mr Jenkin’s restaurant received a Michelin star. Instead of torture, the twins received a franchise each. Meanwhile, Junior is much happier. We have no need for kitchens down here.
--
My thoughts:
Feeling that I’d been lucky to scrape through the previous round, I decided I couldn’t afford to risk striking a judge who might miss any extra layers to my plot. Therefore, this time around, I paid a lot more attention to signaling my intentions for the story in as glaring a manner as I could.
Based on the dramatic shift in feedback I received on this one, I clearly played into the judge’s criteria a lot more the second time around. Yes, this could seen as “pandering to a market” a little bit. But, by giving myself permission to do this, I think I breached some new ground in making my writing clearer. I’m conscious of my own tendency to try to be too “clever” in my writing. In an attempt to give my stories a puzzle quality to them, I quite often withhold context in a hope that the reader will draw a more satisfying experience by having to put the pieces together. Unfortunately, more often than not, this approach has the effect of making things more confusing rather than satisfying.
The feedback:
Judge One: Everything. I like everything about "Quality of a Soul". This story was a welcome relief from the expected. The ending is an evil delight. There's a quality to your writing that transcends this story, I can't even articulate what it is. I think that is a remarkable thing, to enjoy something so much it can't be named. Thanks for introducing me to the Jenkins family.
Judge Two:
Riveting from beginning to end. A complex story for 250 words told in precise detail moving steadily from one plot point to the next. A fascinating read and deeply thought-provoking ending that elicited, in me, a sense of humility and shame for all the times I wrongly judged someone's character as well as a sense of justice for the times others' wrongly judged mine. That is powerful writing.
"If that boy ever tastes a lick of power, this county will burn to the ground!” A nice touch of dramatic humor.
"...Dennis’ family boarded a train before the sunset flared red." An apt visual of a hasty escape.
Final Round:
Based on that last round of feedback— even if it is a bit overblown—I’m feeling a lot better going into the final round of this thing. I think I’ll get disqualified if I post my final story on here while the competition is still in play, but the criteria are as follows:
Genre: Open (read as no genre, or choose your own)
Action: Shushing
Word: blur
I’ll get the results back midway through next month. Hopefully it goes ok.
If you’ve got any opinions on the above stories, please feel free to comment.
