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Susanna Hill has presented another writing opportunity with her 10th annual Holiday Contest. This will be my third year to enter. Thank you to Susanna and the generous prize donors and judges for making this possible. It’s always motivating and so fun to see what everyone comes up with. This year we are to write a story (250 words or less) about a Holiday Helper. So here is my take on the prompt:

Christmas Cupids                                        (246 words)
By Jill Lambert
 
 
“I’m sick of this virus! No parties, no friends!”
Dad looked up and sighed, “Rae, we all hope it ends.”
“It’s taking too long, Dad, and Mom’s always gone!”
“It can’t be helped, Sweetheart. Now isn’t school on?”
 
Slowly I slid myself out of the chair,
but paused when an ad on TV made me stare.
I noticed a number for Health Hero Hotline.
My mom is a doctor--that Health Hero’s mine!            
 
I opened my tablet and tapped to launch Zoom.
Ms. West’s friendly face soon appeared in the room.
One by one, classmates began to pop in,
expecting to see morning meeting begin.
 
First came reminders of work that was due. 
Ms. West confessed that she’d been feeling blue. 
Some students chimed in that they felt the same way.
I shared how my mom worked long hours each day.
 
“What could we do as a class to bring cheer
and spread Christmas love at this time of the year?”
“Let’s help healthcare workers! They all are so tired.”
We each wrote a thank you we hoped was inspired.
 
I mentioned the hotline would let us record
our notes in our voices. Ms. West was on board,
with gift cards from teachers who made a donation.
Stickers conveyed the hotline information.
 
Later that week, when my mom came home late,
she told me our messages made them feel great.
Every recording soared straight to the heart.
Our class Christmas cupids took aim and took part.
 

Susanna Leonard Hill hosts the best writing contests! Her Halloweensie contest is ten years old this year and was the first one I entered. It is a challenge coming up with something funny or spooky in 100 words or less. Last year, I placed in the top ten with my story, Tacky Trick! This year, we had to include the words skeleton, creep, and mask in our tale. Here’s my entry:

Halloween Haul       (100 words)
                             
Something’s creeping up the walk.
See it stalk! Can it talk? 
Something’s creeping up the walk. 
What can it be?
 
Skeleton’s completely bone, 
all alone, hear it moan.
Skeleton’s completely bone,
passes the tree.
 
Hurry up! Slam the door, 
hit the floor. Furthermore,
hurry, don a mask before    
Bones rings the bell.
 
Ding-dong, very near,
knows you’re here. Disappear!
Ding-dong, very near.
“What’s that smell?”
 
Chocolate’s what it wants,
why it haunts. My response?
Chocolate’s what it wants?
“Here, have it all!”
 
Bag’s full, turns to go,
now I know, not my foe.
Bag’s full, turns to go,
Halloween haul!

I’m excited to read what others submit. There is so much creativity out there! Have a safe and spooky Halloween everyone!

October’s here and my first submission of the month is an entry for the #FallWritingFrenzy, a competition hosted by Kaitlyn Sanchez and Lydia Lukidis. The challenge was to select a fall photo to inspire a 200-word (or less) story. I chose several pictures, but finally settled on this image:

The colors and the animated quality of the skeletons just spoke to me. Here is my 190-word entry:

A Skeleton Soiree                        
 
On Halloween, I met my pal 
outside a spooky joint.
The house was draped in neon lights.
It didn’t disappoint. 
 
I lumbared up to where he stood. 
“Oh, there you are Patella!”
“I know I’m late, you bag of bones!
I feel like Cinderella!”
 
“I have a bone to pick with you,”
Eboneezer said.
Open-mouthed, I spun and stared.
His skull was bathed in red.
 
“Have I done something to offend?”
I quizzed him in reply.
“It seems like every time we meet,
you taunt me, though I’m shy!”
 
“I’m sorry if my humerus
has triggered such chagrin.
Did my good-natured ribbing 
find a crack beneath your skin?
 
I tease you when you’re stressed and stiff.
Relax! Let’s find some friends!”  
Spinally, he understood,
so we could make amends.
 
The music blasted out the door
and reached a femur pitch.
Some skeletons leapt on the porch.
Their toes began to twitch.
 
We heard a wailing saxabone,
a swooping trombone, too.
“Absolutely fibulous!”
I cheered when they were through.
 
We clicked and clacked our ribby racks 
and danced upon the lawn,
until the music slowed, then stopped.
Boo! Halloween was gone.

I can’t wait to read and comment on the other entries! Thank you so much for making this possible, Kaitlyn and Lydia. Thanks also to all who agreed to be a generous prize donor.

I’m thankful I live where I can experience all four seasons. I love spending time outdoors, soaking in every gift a new season brings. In spite of that, I’m torn when we reach a solstice or equinox. Today is the first day of fall. The cooler temperatures are a treat and I have a new lease on my running life. Still, the slow creep of earlier sundowns makes me melancholy. There’s a part of me that wants to capture a little bit of summer’s glow in a jar to enjoy in the long nights ahead. When I was still teaching, I was excited to head back to school and meet a new crop of students. And yet, I felt wistful about those last lazy summer days with my family. In the end, it’s a trade-off. As summer passes the baton to fall, I intend to make the most of every day, long or short, every season as it comes. The cycle of life continues.

When I began writing in earnest, I read about a technique that helps writers recall memories–mapping. Draw a map of your childhood home or neighborhood and label it. Add notes about things that bubble up as you study it. You’ll be amazed at what comes to mind! It won’t mean anything to you, but here is what mine looks like:

This map shows both levels of the house where I grew up, with additional neighborhood notes around the perimeter. As rough as it looks, it is a treasure map to me. It’s been the genesis of several stories and poems. The events it evokes from my past make it almost like a time machine. I’m transported back to that small midwestern town and am able to tap into the feelings of the child that was me. It’s important to reach back and feel those feelings so I can write in an authentic voice. Of course, I have to balance it with observations of children today. Both perspectives inform my writing so readers can connect to it. Try sketching your own memory map. You’ll soon be digging up nuggets of childhood gold.