Wow! Everyone who submitted to my 100 followers contest did such an AMAZING job! Seriously, I did not expect it to be so hard to choose winners.
Because it was so so hard, I actually had to create a fourth place (or honorable mention, whichever you prefer) and that place is actually held by 2 entries because I just could not decide.
Also, because all the entries were great, everyone who participated will be getting a prize! That's right, a prize for everyone!
What's the prize you ask?
You'll have to wait and see, later in the week.
This is how I'm going to do things. I'll reveal the fourth place winners today (and post their stories for all to read) the third and second place winners tomorrow, the first place winner on Wednesday and Thursday will be a wrap up including what I liked about the remaining entries and what they're receiving as prizes.
Please remember, I chose the stories based on entertainment value alone. Of course they were all entertaining, so hence my earlier mentioned dilemma of choosing winners.
And, since I'm sure you're all anxious, I'll get right to it!
Fourth place is a tie, and the first entry to hold this place (and winner of The Writers Book of Matches and Hooked) is:
Here is her story:
I Have a Bone to Pick
It’s a really bizarre moment when you realize your life will never be the same. I mean, sometimes it sneaks up on you, but other times it’s just right there, in your face, wake up and take notice. Your life’s changing whether you like it or not, for better or for worse.
Have you noticed it’s usually “for worse”? At least, it has been in my experience. You know the phrases. “Your daughter has cancer.” “They did all they could.” “There was an accident.” “The company is ‘restructuring’.”
You want to know the phrase that changed my life? I bet you’ve never heard it before. It went like this:
It all started with my stupid dog. Now, before you go all ASPCA on me, please understand I mean that in the most affectionate way. Marty is the stupidest mutt you will ever meet. The first day I had him he got his ear stuck in the refrigerator. His ear! But I didn’t notice for two hours. He just sat there for two freaking hours with his ear in the fridge waiting for me to come back. What kind of dog does that?
Well, this time he had disappeared for three weeks. I called the pound, talked to my neighbors. Even posted pictures around town. No luck.
I was out in the garden on that fateful day. Minding my own business, just squatting down to inspect a tomato plant, when I was scared out of my wits by a cold nose pressing into the small of my back. It hit hat bare spot between my tee and capris.
“What on earth? Carry muffins in a pan!” I screamed. Sprawling backward into the grass I found myself nose to nose with my grinning, slobbering, brown and grey, seventeen-pound mess of a dog.
See, Marty doesn’t bark, he woofs. And he would have woofed at me if he could have, but he couldn’t. Not with that thing in his mouth. Even though his tail was going eighty miles an hour and he was all kinds of excited to have found me, it was the thing in his mouth that caught my attention.
It was a bone. Not a rawhide, rubber or chunky hunk of bone, but a real bone. It didn’t look like those cartoon bones either. It was red and white and I had never seen anything like it.
Marty dropped it on my chest. “Ew, nasty pie of disgusting grossness!” I jumped up and let the bone fall to the ground. We both stared down at it, then Marty looked up at me and woofed.
“Shut up,” I told him. “Do you realize what a pain this is for me?”
He grinned and his tongue lolled out of his mouth, drool dripping onto my bare toes. I curled them out of instinct and shooed Marty back to the house. He woofed again, bounding around my feet, trying to make sure we both ended up back on the ground.
“Cut it out, you mangy mutt,” I growled, but then I ruffled his ears as I pulled open the screen door.
After locking him in the bathroom so he didn’t spread chaos around the rest of my house, I snagged the phone and rifled through the front of the phone book to find the local police number. Yeah, I don’t have it memorized and this didn’t seem like a 911 worthy call. I snorted as the phone rang. Can you imagine that conversation?
“Yes, I’d like to report a bone. No, my dog brought it home. But it’s real. No, there’s no emergency. No, no one’s in distress. Well, I guess something is. I mean, something’s missing a bone. Those are kind of important.”
Not so much.
Then the operator answered and I found myself saying those same words anyway. There’s no easy way to broach that kind of subject.
The woman thought I was pranking her at first, but I repeated myself until she agreed to send a car over.
The two cops got out of the cruiser and I led them over to the bone. It looked so out of place on my crisp, green lawn. A little harbinger of death and destruction in my corner of the world.
Their faces got all serious. One crouched down, pulled on some gloves and picked it up. He looked at his partner and; here comes that phrase I was talking about at the beginning; he said, “I think it’s human.”
I LOVED the humor in this piece. I loved that the dog got his ear stuck in the fridge and I especially loved the "Carry muffins in a pan!" expletive and I expect I will be stealing it and using it in real life. Also, what's not to like when the MC is discussing why they didn't call 911 because of the story they'd have to tell, when they had to tell it anyway to the non-emergency police. Hilarious!
Great job at making me laugh!
The second entry for this place (since again, there was a tie) and also winner of The Writers Book of Matches and Hooked) is:
Here is her entry:
Because Palindrome has plans to submit this baby, it can't be posted on the interwebs.
BUT, the story was about a girl who wakes up from a coma and finds that she's very very hungry.
Ewww! Creepy! Also, awesome. What is not to like about zombie-esqu coma patient? Nothing, that's what.
Also, what I love about Palindrome's writing is her use of metaphor. "There is a dry sponge in my mouth. I try to push it out with my tongue until I realize it is my tongue." I can never metaphor like that, and so am always appreciative of those who can.
Great job to both of you!
If you ladies can email me your mailing addresses, I will send your prizes on their way! (also, please let me know if you have either of those books and I will substitute for another).
Tomorrow, more winners!