If you’ve been following along for the last couple blog posts, then you know two things. First, yes, I am pimping my OLD SCHOOL collection with the relentlessly solipsistic rapaciosness usually reserved for politicians on the stump. Second, I’d never written any short fiction until I ran into my first flash fiction challenge.
So what better way to mark the release of OLD SCHOOL, many of the the stories in which were first spawned in response to such challenges, than to run one of my own? And what better way to justify buying a mess of my own books to push up my numbers than to offer them as prizes?
All I need is a topic. Just so happens that today for the first time in our peculiar local winter, we had some real snow. So a story with snow. Snow as a theme, snow as a symbol, snow as what some poor fish in his first night on the cellblock is thinking about to take his mind off the burning sensation in his rectum from the 300-pound biker that’s riding his ass like he’s Secretariat — I don’t care what kind of literary three-rail shot you use, just bake in some snow.
Reigning you all in a little here, though – 500 words or less this time.
Post your story where you like and dump the link in the comments box right here when you’re done – I’ll add your name and link to the blog as we go. You’ve got until the end of February, which, given the vagaries of the Gregorian calendar gives you one whole extra day this year.
First ten stories get their very own free copy of OLD SCHOOL as a prize. Already bought one? Well bless your little heart – I’ll ship a free copy to the friend or, depending on your opinion of my work, enemy of your choice.
I’m not done. I’m going to give my favorite story out of the submissions the famous O’Shea audio treatment, post a recording of it right up here on the ol’ blog.
More? As they say in those annoyingly load and strangely accented voices on the infomercial channels, that’s not all. I’m writing my own snow story. I’m not posting it on the blog, though. I’m recording it and shipping the file off to anybody who leaves me an Amazon review – good or bad – by the end of March. Of course, I can’t track you down through the review, so you’ll have to get in touch. DM me on twitter (@dboshea), message me on Facebook (Daniel B. O’Shea), whatever. Post your review and then get me an e-mail link and the bonus story is all yours.
If you’re one of the first ten that gets a free OLD SCHOOL, I guess you better do that too, unless I already know how to get in touch with you or you feel like leaving your e-mail address in the comments box for all to see. Don’t make me track your ass down.
I know what you’re thinking. “Awfully fine opinion you’ve got of yourself there sport, thinking I’m gonna do something just to get one of your stories.” That and “You sad, pathetic bastard, are you really that desperate to sell books that you’re gonna whore yourself out like this? Gotta bribe people for reviews?”
Yes, yes and yes.
Have at it peeps.
The Snowmen (I suppose I should say Snowpeople, but that just sounds stupid)
N. Celestina White (free book is on its way)
Cassaelet (no link – read her story below in comments. Another OLD SCHOOL winner.)
Matthew Swinney (free book is on its way)
K.K. Van Eps (another free book out the door)
Dale Long (five down, five to go)
Snellopy (only four left!)
sweet
[…] was written for Daniel B. O’Shea’s contest, which asked for 500 words or less about […]
I’m sorry I’m not savvy enough to post this in a blog or something, but here is my entry. Enjoy.
#22
Steam rose from the ground as we swayed back and forth on rusty old swings. The sun had just started to rise.
It took me most of a month to talk Jeremy into staying in this house with me. #22 on my bucket list – stay all night in a haunted house.
Check!
Jeremy had no list of his own, but if he did, haunted houses wouldn’t be on it. He had been acting strange all night.
“I didn’t even believe in ghosts, I mean, not real ghosts. Not like this.” His voice sounded distant.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You don’t remember, do you?”
“Remember what? I thought last night went great.”
“Great!? You think this is great!?” He seemed upset. Even mad.
“Jeremy,” I softened my voice, “please tell me what’s wrong. I don’t understand.”
“Come on. I’ll show you.” He got up and walked toward the house.
Darkness still hung thick in the broken down rooms of the old house. I’d chosen it mostly because of it’s age. Built in 1890, it was the oldest house in all the surrounding counties. Old enough to –hopefully- be haunted. Most of the online articles talked about figures in the windows and whispers in the attic. Basic stuff. The city had posted a memo describing its plan to demolish the main house. They called it a blight and a ‘safety hazard in our own backyards’.
I’ve only checked a few items off my list, so I wanted to get this one in while this house was still here. I’m sure I could have found other suitable locations, but this house was on my mind when I wrote my list.
I followed Jeremy through the dark house and up the stairs. Drafts blew cold air in and stirred up the dust. It floated in our flashlight beams like snow in headlights. Almost beautiful.
The stairs led to a landing with a hall and another slender staircase. I paused to look down the hall. What was he showing me? I tried to think back on the night but instead of remembering, I was struck by a strong sense of déjà-vu.
“Didn’t we stay in a room back there?” I aimed my flashlight towards doors down the hall.
“Yes. But it happened up here.” Jeremy didn’t even turn around. He seemed frightened, as if he were reliving something awful. I followed him up the stairs wondering why he was leading me up here if he was frightened to do so.
“Can’t you just tell me?” I asked as he turned the corner into the attic.
The morning light filtered in through the tattered roof. Jeremy stood in the middle of the room staring down a hole in the floor. The déjà-vu returned as I walked to the edge and looked down. It was the room we had spent the night in and centered in my flashlight beam, surrounded by the beautiful snowy dust, was my mangled body.
Thanks, Cassaelet. DM me an e-mail address on Twitter @dboshea so I can send you your copy of Old School.
Thanks for playing! Shoot me an e-mail (you can DM me on twitter at @dboshea) so I can send you your free OLD SCHOOL.
Same situation as kkvaneps. And I reactivated twitter just for you! Oh well… My email is matthew.swinney@gmail.com.
Flash fiction is a great motivator. I do something similar on the Absolute Write website. I participate in a blog chain and it has planted many agreat short story that has blossomed into novel excerpts.
Snow was January’s prompt, so if it counts, I’ll link to that. If not, no worries.
Pimp away Dan! Congrats!
Nice work mate, I’ve enjoyed your entries in Chuck Wendig’s flash fiction challenges, and look forward to seeing you in print. An awesome way to drum up interest in your work, too. Here’s my entry: http://snellopy.blogspot.com/2012/02/winter-wonderland.html
Thanks for playing — make sure to get me your e-mail so I can send you your free copy of OLD SCHOOL.
I got it, and managed to knock it on the head in one sitting. A great read mate, and I’ll do up an appreciative review when I get some spare time (most likely tomorrow).
Thanks again!