Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Congrats to the Third Place winner Nina Fluegal for Chocolates and Candy. This was so different than anything I received and such a polished poem that I wanted to include it in the winners. Here is Nina's explanation for the poem: My submission in this contest is a poem of mine, and it is my intention to create a children's book with it



 
CHOCOLATES AND CANDY

I think they are dandy, fine chocolates and candy,
So good that I have some each night!
The velvety texture of sweet, blissful goodness,
Brings my taste buds to life with delight!

I don’t mind if it’s square, nor oval, or round,
If it tickles my tongue, it can be found
Inside my mouth, just munching away,
Like there’s no tomorrow, there’s only today!

Whether crunchy or crispy, or nutty, or plain,
Not to have any chocolate would drive me insane!
Those big yummy raisins all covered in brown,
I need some this instance, to help calm me down!

Oh, hard candy with swirls, tastes of strawberries, too,
If you get me a handful, I will share them with you!
We can both have some fun! Our tongues would be pink,
Or purple, or red, so what do you think?

Belgian chocolates are great, made of thick, sweet cream;
Take my senses away; I am left to dream…
Of a place, where the whipped cream looks like large mountains,
And dark chocolate flows freely, from gigantic fountains!
                              
I sit by the side of a house made of cake,
As I dunk my whole hand into a chocolaty lake…
Now I’m covered in fudge, as I lift up my arm,
It runs down my elbow, still sticky and warm!

Red licorice vines dangle from tall gumdrop trees,
Their bark made of almonds, right up to my knees!
Great animal cookies stand guard at the gate,
To the Gingerbread Gardens, let’s not be late!

The spicy aroma of a peppermint stick
Leaves my mouth slightly wishing I had one to lick!
As I enter the passage to the meadow ahead,
I see mounds, no, haystacks, of warm Gingerbread!

The familiar scent fills my nose with great joy,
Like a child, that awaits a long wanted toy!
I run for the stacks of this heaven’s delight,
But I stumble and fall, and awake! Oh, what fright!

I open my eyes, still wary from trance,
Of this wonderful dream, that I had the chance
To be in a land, full of chocolates and candy,
I told you this story so you’ll see they are dandy!

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

SECOND PLACE - That Love Thing - Jonathan Black

Congrats to Jonathan Black for Second Place with his short - "That Love Thing" which is exactly 500 words. In his description of the piece he says "It's always with me." 


Lagerfeld...yeah!
   She paced the room, waiting. The industrial clock above the door swept the minutes at a painfully slow pace. She was dressed simple and clean, ready. He showed up at the door with two bottles of Heineken. One in each hand, outstretched, he knew she liked them. The light in the hallway cast an eerie florescent glow. The lamps made an audible buzz. She quickly shut the door, latched the bolt tightly. Beers were opened. He was wearing a leather jacket and the familiar scent of Lagerfeld. His thin hair was perfectly parted and his shirt just slightly taunt. She could play him like a guitar and tonight he was all…hers. He was ready to be unwrapped. Tonight would be an extraordinary evening of practice. In her head, she had been reviewing the music all week, rehearsing the notes, perfecting the score. They positioned themselves on the dormitory mattress. He mounted the bunk with athletic prowess. Both bodies descended into worn out sheets stinking of sleep. Wrinkled posters surrounded them, a calendar, a clock radio, used books on the counter. Clothes were tossed without rhythm into the center of the room. She insisted that his watch, yes, even his watch, had to go. In order to proceed, he must be naked, loss of inhibition and loss of decision. She attacked and dominated her guitar, made it squeal. Starting with a simple waltz, she added sonatas, arpeggios, Beethoven! The clock above the door started to spin. She knelt in response to the swell of the song. Gazing across him, she caught her breath through her teeth and noticed the slickness of her own flesh through the large window facing the walls of buildings. He was matted with climax, instrument down, breathing quietly. The conductor caressed her subject, touched him, matching his moistness. At once warm, and at once cold, she pulled the laced sheet across her. Footsteps scuffled through the hallway a few doors down, giggles from weekend revelers. Earlier she had said she loved him, that was wrong, to say, she knew it, noted the grist of the words the moment she uttered them. It was the wrong step, only righted by play, only righted by practice, practice makes perfect. Play to learn, learn to play. She could make every muscle respond, she had studied… him. She engaged in private lessons, he, a very submissive student. Brawny strong, and across campus, his smell different, easily swapped, more music to learn, but so easy to perform. An elementary composition! A wrong note, that love thing, a hole in the orchestration, a novice effort produced. Her thoughts made her cringe. She stuck her nose in his hair and decided to let it be, enjoy the comfort of her tools, the smell of spit. Hands became limp. Sweat turned into sleep. That love thing, a hollow pall.
   Later that morning, they both enjoyed a good laugh because after they got dressed, they mutually discovered that they had mistakenly put on each other's pants.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

FIRST PLACE - 5 Hour Career by Tom Olson


Congrats to the winner Tom Olson for this piece. He came up with it while working in production for a full length film. It really goes to show all you can do under 1000 words. This is a fully developed short film script and tells great story  in just under 1000 words. 
 



INT. LIVINGROOM—DAY

A man sits on a couch, leaning over a coffee table, on the far end of the coffee table we focus on an answering machine playing. The time of day appears in the lower left hand of screen. 7:14 P.M.

ANSWERING MACHINE
Hello, this is a message for David Wagner. This is Susan from the casting department of Northwest Pictures. Our director liked your read and would like to offer you the part of Newscaster #2. We’ll—

We see DAVID, Mid 20s, pretty looking, with longer hair, sitting on the couch, doing something with his hands O.S. We hear chopping and scrapping noises. He bends down, out of frame, and we hear the big snort of someone doing coke. DAVID reappears, rolled up dollar bill in his hand, powder on his nose.

DAVID
I’M AN ACTOR!


DAVID (O.S.)
—You hear that! I got the part Josh! I F-ing NAILED that part! I’m gonna be in film!

ANSWERING MACHINE
—Now we are having a kick off party tonight before shooting starts. As a day player, you are more then welcome to attend, and meet the director and the rest of the cast and crew. It starts at 9 o’clock at the Red Room. I hope to see you there.

DAVID
Come on, come on—Play it again!

CUT TO:
INT. BEDROOM—EVENING
DAVID pulling out outfit after outfit from closet. A series of shots with him dressed fancier and fancier, throwing clothes on the bed and floor. He finally settles on a bit over the top outfit that includes a leisure suit with a loud, big collared shit.

DAVID
I’m an actor, I’m an actor, I’m an actor.

CUT TO:

INT. BATHROOM
DAVID, in front of a mirror, obsessing with his hair, eyebrows, breath, adjusting his suit. The time of day appears. It’s 8:22.

DAVID
I’m an actor, I’m an actor, I’m an actor, I’m an actor.

He gives himself a dramatic, serious look in the mirror


DAVID
This is it. You’re an actor. Better get ready like an actor.


CUT TO:

EXT. NIGHTCLUB/BAR—NIGHT

DAVID, jazzed and jittered, approaches the bouncer outside. The time of day is shown. It’s 9:27

BOUNCER
Name?

DAVID
David Wagoner, I’m with Northwest Pictures.

The BOUNCER doesn’t check the list, the name Northwest Pictures is enough.

BOUNDER
You’re with Northwest? Go on in and get your drink tickets.

DAVID, walking past him, is handed two drink tickets by a coat check girl. Wide-eyed, he mumbles:

DAVID
I’m an actor.

CUT TO:

INT. PRIVATE ROOM IN BAR

A series of shots show groups of people are mingling and chatting over the party music. Most are well dressed. There is laughter and a sense of calm fun. The night is just starting. DAVID enters this room. Lets out a whoop. Starts toward the bar, moving with the music. Some people give him notice. Most don’t. The party has just started.

CUT TO:
DAVID listening in on a conversation. He fidgets and makes listening look extreme. He interjects with comments that are forceful and off topic. A lot of improv here. We essentially see this gag a few short times with different people, knocking people’s drinks over, jabbing at them, but as we progress the people become more important. He scares a woman. The time is 10:33

DAVID
It’s cool man, I know how it goes with gold miners, I’m an actor too.

CUT TO:
The Director approaches David, who is obviously making a scene.

DIRECTOR
Who are you young man?

DAVID
David Wagoner, I’m your Newsman for the film. I’ve been reading your script.

DIRECTOR
Oh, have you?

DAVID
Yeah yeah yeah, And have I got something for you-- what if—what if, you told the story THROUGH news casts?

The Director, recognizing someone else, starts to walk away.

DAVID
Think about it. You’d be using the newscasts inside of another medium, like a story being told inside a story, it’s all about perception man, the source! Hey!—

DAVID grabs the shoulder of the director, suddenly everything stops.

DAVID, very meekly

It’s cool guys… I’m an actor.

CUT TO:

EXT. CLUB—NIGHT

David getting tossed out of entrance by one or two guards. He flails to get free of them.

DAVID
If I lose my part because of you apes, you will see me in court,
 by God, you WILL see me in court. In fact, I quit! How’s that!

The guards drop him suddenly and turn to walk away.

And for a moment DAVID just stares at the club somberly. The time is 12:01. DAVID sits down on the gutter. His phone rings. We clip together the following dialog, making it seem like a much longer conversation. DAVID paces back and forth in front of the club.

DAVID
Josh? No man, you wouldn’t believe it. There’s just too much politics in the business for me anymore? So I quit. F yeah I did. Because! They’ve taken the joy out of what I do. I don’t know. I want to get back to the basics. The art man, the pure art. I think I’ll do some teaching, maybe, maybe some stage stuff, but you know, only if my hearts in it. The way the industry is now… it’s not satisfying as an artist.

The time is 12:14.



ALT ENDING. After all this has passed.

A waiter, in his 20s, passing out drinks at the club. The Director puts an arm on his shoulder.

DIRECTOR
What’s your name young man?

WAITER
Billy.

DIRECTOR
Well, Billy, how would you like to play an anchorman in my next movie?

BILLY
Wow. Sure, I’d love to. Thank you.

DIRECTOR
Not a problem Billy,I’ll have my girl Susan get your number.

We follow Billy into the kitchen area. Just as the door swings shut behind him Billy’s eyes go wide as saucers. (O.S.) Someone yells:

Billy, we need two more trays at 9 and 7!

BILLY
Oh, yeah, well fuck you! I’m an actor now.
The time is 12:24.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

CONTEST WINNERS


500 WORD FICTION CONTEST WINNERS

The entries to the contest were extremely varied in style and I'm happy to say that the three winner are equally diverse. We've got a script, a short story, and a poem! You'll have to check back in over the next three week to read them and see which is which. Every Tuesday!

FIRST PLACE - TOM OLSON "5 Minute Career"
$35 richer
To be published May 15th

SECOND PLACE - JONATHAN BLACK "That Love Thing"
 Donald Ray Pollack signed his copy of Knockemstiff for you.
To be published May 22nd

THIRD PLACE - NINA FLUEGAL"Chocolates and Candy"
You can have a date at the Blue Door Theatre with two tickets in the mail. Or go twice.
To be published May 29th

Thanks to all writers! I hope to do it again in the fall.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Little Pocket Jesus


An improv buddy of mine named Micheal Glatzmaier wrote this song called Little Pocket Jesus inspired by a Jesus action figure he found when he was a kid. This is perfect for 500 word fiction--super short and he could connect directly with the real life event which inspired the creative outlet. Mike was cool enough to let me film him sing it. Turn up the volume and listen while you read. It only takes a minute!









When I was a little child The best thing that I found
In third grade was by the toys on the ground
It was a little action figure oh it sure was great
and he goes by a very special name

And its..

CHORUS
Little pocket Jesus
It’s the only Jesus I know
He's only two inches tall
And He goes wherever I go

I dropped him on his head. Now his head has a dent
I’d take him out to show you but he’s cover in pocket lint
He’s sitting him pocket, and now he’s not a stranger
He’s sitting right in there next to my favorite pocket ranger

CHORUS
Little pocket Jesus
It’s the only Jesus that I know
He's only two inches tall
And He goes wherever I go


Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Untimely, unrequited

A long, long time ago I read in a MAD magazine the definitions of a nerd. One of them is “Always calls at the wrong time.” This piece stems from that and also these 3 things: the name “Charlie” from watching the 9th seasons of Friends, I recently ate a bunch of raw oysters, and I used to always drink water from the sink with a cupped hand.

…..Blrlrlrlrlrlrlrlr
Tina’s cell rumbled against the Formica of the bathroom sink as she sat folded in half  sitting bottomless on the toilet with her arms crossed. It was early after a late night and her husband was snoring back in bed. Tina moaned and wiped some of the sweat off her brow.
“How many shots....,” she vaguely thought.

Blrlrlrlrlrlrlrlr
“What did I eat? Clams, oysters, shrimp,” she recalled. “Did I, did I have any of the sirloin?” Tina  struggled to think. Hoping to take her mind off her headache and the runs, Tina tended to her rumbling cell phone. She pressed UNLOCK, thumbed in her husband’s name SHANE for the password. Two texts popped up from a lover she’d named Charlie in her phone. He was in town and wanted to know if she was free.


Knock, Knock
“You all right hun?” Shane asked--rumbly, sleepy.
“Yeah I’m fine,” Tina replied--pained, guilty. She heard him stagger to the kitchen sink and slurp water from his cupped hand. It was a sound she hated in a way that she’d miss if he were to ever die.
Swiftly, Tina deleted all the texts from Charlie.
“Uggh,” she thought as another wave of nausea swept over her, “I’m glad I didn’t leave my cell on the nightstand.”