My Trashman Gave to Me

I'm coming down to the wire, but I couldn't miss Susanna Hill's annual Holiday Story Contest!

Rules: Write a children’s holiday story (children here defined as approximately age 12 and under) using the basic format/concept of The Twelve Days Of Christmas!  Your story may be poetry or prose, silly or serious or sweet, religious or not, based on Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or whatever you celebrate, but is not to exceed 300 words (I know!  So much freedom after the Halloweensie Contest )  (It can be as short as you like (the judges will be grateful , you are welcome and encouraged to write shorter, but no more than 300!  Title not included in word count.)  The field is wide open!  Have fun!  The more creative the better!  No illustration notes please. Post:  Your entry should be posted on your blog between right now this very second and Monday December 12 at 11:59 PM EST.

Without further ado (and because I'm going to run out of time!) here's my entry at 299 words:

My Trashman Gave to Me

My Daddy worked hard all day throwing bag after bag into that old garbage truck. We didn’t have much money, but he made sure our house was merry during Christmas.

On the first day of Christmas my trashman gave to me a toaster in disrepair. It couldn’t make toast, but it sure made Christmas cards pop!

On the second day of Christmas my trashman gave to me two black rain boots, which held way more than a regular stocking.

On the third day of Christmas my trashman gave to me three dented pots, and I drummed a lovely beat.  

On the fourth day of Christmas my trashman gave to me four hula hoops which became the coolest wreath in town.

On the fifth day of Christmas my trashman gave to me five curtain rings which made my wreath sparkle in the sun.

On the sixth day of Christmas my trashman gave to me six empty frames, perfect for my reindeer art.  

On the seventh day of Christmas my trashman gave to me seven bouncing balls hanging as giant ornaments in the front yard.

On the eighth day of Christmas my trashman gave to me eight smiling dolls to make my own nativity.

On the ninth day of Christmas my trashman gave to me nine shining night lights to brighten every room.

On the tenth day of Christmas my trashman gave to me ten Christmas ties draping over the fireplace.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my trashman gave to me eleven serving spoons glittering on our Christmas tree.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my trashman gave to me twelve pillows already ripping, with enough fluff to fill our living room with snow!

People sure throw out a lot of decorations, but Daddy knows treasure when he finds it.

Hope you enjoyed this fun holiday story. Wishing you all Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas!

Spider's Home - Halloweensie 2016

It's a BOOtifully dark and dreary day to write a Halloween story. Get on over to Susanna Hill's internet house to post yours or get spooked out reading the other entries! This is the sixth year for the contest and my fifth year entering...I'm feeling a bit nostalgic!

From Susanna: 

The Contest:  write a 100 word Halloween story appropriate for children (title not included in the 100 words, children here defined as 12 and under), using the words spider, ghost, and moon.   Your story can be scary, funny or anything in between, poetry or prose, but it will only count for the contest if it includes those 3 words and is 100 words (you can go under, but not over!)  Get it?  Halloweensie – because it’s not very long and it’s for little people  (And yes, I know 100 words is short but that’s part of the fun and the challenge!  We got nearly 150 fantastic entries last year so I know you can do it!)  Also, you may use the words in any form – e.g. moon, moons, mooned, spidery, ghostly, whathaveyou  No illustration notes please!

Post your story on your blog between right now this very second and Monday October 31st by 11:59 PM EDT and add your post-specific link to the list on her site.

Here's my 100-word entry. Happy Halloween everyone!

Spider’s Home

By Lauri Meyers

Ghost whooshed to Spider’s basement home.

Spider cried. “The girl saw me. I’m outta here.”

Ghost drooped. “Don’t go. Try the kitchen.”

Ghost poofed to the kitchen.

Spider ate his web in shaky gulps. “That cat licked his lips all day.”

Ghost’s eyes popped out. “Don’t go. Try upstairs.”

Ghost whizzed into the bathroom.

Spider was packed. “It smells dangerous here. Goodbye.”

Ghost rippled with worry. “You’re my best friend.”

Ghost glowed excitedly. “Grab your web. Follow me up these stairs.”

“Plenty of bugs.”

“Few visitors.”

 “A view!”

Spider started spinning in the moonlight.

“And my best friend lives here.”

What are you working on?

I’m headed to NJ SCBWI summer conference this weekend, well, today actually.

I love this conference! It is like a party with all your best friends who share a love of writing. There are friendly agents to crush on and editors to share dinner with. There’s an ever-flowing fountain of coffee and just a bit of wine. And there’s the opportunity to network with total strangers.

No matter how much I practice my pitch for the agent pitch, someone in the bagel line will ask, 

“What are you working on?”

This question always knocks me on my heels. I feel like the only thing I am working on is remembering to breathe.

Uhh...I’m installing a butterfly garden in at my daughter’s school. I’ve been studying tree identification for a sign installation at the park. I painted a gigantic map of the US on the playground which was significantly harder than I imagined. I have a big Girl Scout beach party Monday. (Shoot, I forgot to buy cups!) I work on laundry a lot.

These are the things that pop in my head. Keeping them from popping out of my mouth is very challenging. 

First, I have to breathe. Then, I have to remember they really mean, “Tell me about your current writing project. Give me a sense of your voice. How do you stand out in your genre?”

If you are struggling with your pitches and answering this horrendously challenging question, I have a few recommendations.

1.      Take a shower. One pitch came to me there, and I was forced to write it in steam on the shower door.

2.      Relax. A second pitch was worked out during a pedicure yesterday.

3.      Exercise. A third pitch was worked out during yoga – I got the word order I needed, though the process did make my Awkward Chair Pose even more awkward.

And all those other things I’m working on? Well, I’ve been thinking about a blog page about “Creativity when I’m not Writing.” There are so many interesting things I’ve been up to this year, which weren't writing but were creating. I think all creation breathes life into your writing! 

If you are heading to NJ SCBWI, I’ll see you soon. (Well, tonight!)

Noises in the Closet - SCBWI Write This!

If you are a SCBWI member, you can participate in the new Write This! monthly prompt. Here's the details:

Write This! April Contest: This month, you have 100 words to portray a scene where your character hears a suspicious noise coming from the closet. Create a mood. Surprise us!

Deadline: April 20th

Guidelines:

• You must be a current SCBWI member to submit to Write This!
• Entries must be inspired by the prompt in some way.
• Please no italics or bold fonts. 12 point text size.
• E-mail subject line must be titled as follows: Write This_First name_Last name.
• Each member may only submit one entry per prompt word.
• E-mail your entry IN THE BODY OF THE E-MAIL, please no attachments to: scbwiwritethis@scbwi.org
• TIP: Tweet, Facebook and Instagram your submissions! #scbwiwritethis
           (this is not how you submit your writing, it's just an extra way to promote your work)
  
  
• My entry for April is a poem I've been working on for awhile, tightened up to the 100 word limit. This story is inspired by some freaky ghost hunting I did in my own house when I was little. I would use Dad's stress test scrap paper to graph the sounds I heard coming from our attic stairs closet. 

Attic Dwellers

By Lauri Meyers

Pressed against the door,

Father's stethoscope captures

The attic dwellers noise.

Thump, thump, whooooo, thump, screech.

I decode the message:

"We have what you seek." 

The skeleton key grinds in the rusty metal lock.

Hinges groan apart.

Cold air rushes past me.

Darkened stairway looms.

Creak.

Gulp my fear.

Creak.

Cobwebs tickle my nose.

Creak.

Reach through darkness.

Pull the cord.

Click.

Spirits shrink to the shadows.

I grab the treasure-

Father's army cap.

Breathe in his strength.

Shadows grow impatient.

Lights out.

Run.

Stumble into the light.

Turn the key.

Listen.

Thump, whoo, thump, whoo, creak.

"See you again."

How To Sweep the Floor

I had to clean up this morning, but I'm rewarding myself with some writing! Some of you who are also have an aversion to cleaning may need this helpful lesson I put together. 

How to Sweep the Dining Room Floor

Step 1: Move the chairs out of the way to allow access to all the abandoned Rice Krispies and dropped noodles.

Step 2: Build a chair fort

Step 3: Sweep quickly because you are missing out on all the fun.

Step 4: Help create the world's first Reading School for Bunnies. 

Good luck with your Spring Cleaning!

The Three Billy Goats Valentine's Gamble

Sweet Susanna Hill has a new contest for us! 

The Contest:  Write a Valentines story appropriate for children (children here defined as ages 12 and under) maximum 214 words in which someone is grumpy!  Your story can be poetry or prose, sweet, funny, surprising or anything in between, but it will only count for the contest if it includes someone grumpy (can be the main character but doesn’t have to be) and is 214 words max (get it? 2/14 for Valentines Day) You can go under the word count but not over! Title is not included in the word count.  No illustration notes please!

Here's my entry coming in at exactly 214 words. Happy Valentine's Day! 

The Three Billy Goats Valentine's Gamble

By Lauri C. Meyers

Billy Goat, Baby Goat, and Mama Goat have valentines to deliver in the sweet green valley, but a hungry troll guards the bridge.

“I have an idea,” Baby Goat says. The goats huddle to hear the plan.  

Baby Goat & Billy Goat
(img; Loretta Humble, freeimages)

Baby Goat scrambles up the bridge.

“Who’s trip-trapping over my bridge?” Grumpy Troll growls. “I’ll eat you right up!”

“Don’t eat me! My meatier brother is coming soon.” Baby Goat skips to the valley.

Billy Goat hoofs up the bridge.

“Who’s trip-trapping over my bridge?” Grumpy Troll roars. “I’ll eat you right up!”

“Don’t eat me! My sweet mama is coming soon.” Billy Goat gallops over the bridge.

Mama Goat climbs the bridge.  

“Who’s click-clacking over my bridge?” Grumpy Troll asks. “I’ll eat you right up!”

“Hi, I have a valentine for you,” Mama Goat says with a wink.

“What a glittery heart,” Grumpy Troll says. “It sparkles like your pretty shoes.”

“Would you like to deliver valentines with me, Mr. Troll?” Mama Goat asks.

“I’m busy guarding this bridge,” Grumpy Troll says. “Would you join me for a snack on your way back?”

“Of course!” Mama squeals. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” She click-clacks down the bridge. 

Grumpy Troll jumps under the bridge and starts cutting hearts for a valentine and whispers, “I could eat her right up.”

She is a beauty!

(img; Colin Bamford, freeimages)