Random Skeevy Writing Contest vs NPR

Once upon a time, a long time ago, I decided to make a brave second attempt at submitting something of mine to a literary contest.  The first literary contest I'd ever entered was most likely a scam.

I had to send them my piece and then twenty dollars and then last year's winner would choose this year's and then I didn't hear back for several months after the deadline and the typeface on the rejection postcard was crooked, and by then it didn't matter anyway because the crying was already done—Oh writers!  We do get into our 'I NEEDZ PURBLISHED!' shennanigans now and then, don't we?  That stupid scam became the bad ex-boyfriend throttling my future shy attempts at contest-writing.

Empowering Pathos

When animals are sad

I know creatures who'd rather die before they wait,

I don't see them around anymore.

I know of a bird whose soul got so sad,

He lost his heart to open wings and soar.

And you don't know how painful pain is,

Till you meet a cat insomniac who won't take naps anymore.

Parents for your Protagonista

This is some freewriting I once did for another unpublished novel manuscript I have.  To get a sense of the protagonist Nirra's parents, I wrote them without her, alone in their own home--and then in two moods:  happy together, then irritated with each other.  I recommend this exercise to any writer who gets writers block whenever they try a scene with new characters.

Parents Happy

Zeersheba lay on the couch, fanning herself.

“I learned something interesting today, husband.” She lifted the fan over her dark face and let the large white feathers pause artfully in the air before she relaxed her wrist and they dramatically bowed under her gaze.  And his wife had impossible tiny braids woven in and out of a tight crown, almost an flute resting at the back of her head.  Her brow was a black egg.  Impossible, perfect.