“Says here your biological mother…” He cleared his throat. “Is deceased. Sorry, that’s all I know.”

Her shoulders collapsed. “My father?”

He knew about her foster care treatment. He knew her need for a father. Now he could be for her what he couldn’t be eighteen years ago.

“Again, I’m sorry.” He averted her gaze. “It says father unknown.”

Continue reading Fiction 59–Parent →

Magnus hit all five targets on the first shot then quickly skied off. He was going to represent Finland this year, but that dream ended when the Russians invaded. His friends insisted he’d dominate the ‘44 games. Perhaps that was true, but with the blood of five Russians now on his hands, he’d never do this for medals.

K: Whoa. Strong twist, though I think it could be more personal. I’m asking a lot here, but there are 19 of you and I have to, right? Still, a very different attack on the challenge. BRONZE

MD: My former roommate is of Finnish descent, and he always brings up the skiing and shooting prowess of the Fins against the Russians. What makes this story is the recognition that our protagonist can’t possibly compete in his chosen sport for “fun” after having to do it to fight a war and survive. SILVER

W: Historical fiction? There’s some Pirate bait! This simply story shows without telling and allows Magnus to capitalize on his athletic abilities. My only quibble would be that I would probably refer to the invaders as Soviets. GOLD

Can’t believe I said Russians instead of Soviets. Thankfully, I was forgiven for that. I had already written the rough draft when I discovered that the 1940 Olympics were going to be held in Helsinki. This successful week launched me into 4th place with five stories left to go.

She hands me a glass of iced tea and kisses my forehead. The radio crackles: “Sunny and mild, no chance of rain.” Sounds like my wife.

“Thank God for crop insurance!” she says blithely. I offer a half-grin.

I wait ‘til she’s fully inside before kicking the ground. Hard. Clouds of dust choke me. She doesn’t fucking get it.

K: So is wifey naive and sunny to a fault, or is our narrator just a dick who never learned to love her properly? I think it can be both, and their weaknesses (we can call hers something else, if you please) make for an interesting dynamic I’d like to spend more time with. SILVER

MD: I don’t get it, either. My impression is that this guy sees his farm and his wife as the same barren disappointments, strangling his sense of life and hope. That’s kinda how my husband views his wife, too. BRONZE

W: A nice slice of life, but the story seems a little hollow. Can someone say something blithely in a way that also requires an explanation point?

I fall to 6th place in the standings, but am more satisfied in my story this week. I’ve met my character many times. I’ve never been able to identify with the personality of a farmer, but I’m glad I’ve been able to meet many and learn about them.

Deity Vocational Questionnaire (True deities only! Demigods, turn to page 17)

1. How long does it take you to create a universe?

a. billions of years
b. six days, then hoo-boy am I tired!
c. As long as I goddam feel like

2. (Essay Question) Some living things will deny your existence. How do you feel about killing them?

K: Yikes. That’s hopefully as cynical as these get. It’s an okay joke that probably works better with a lot more words.

MD: Straight, to the point, and made me smile. Especially the last question. GOLD

W: I smirked, but I don’t think I got much farther. C, of course, is the right answer to question 1. Meh is probably the right answer to question 2.

I was not inspired this time around and consider myself lucky to walk away with a gold. Out of the field of 19, I am currently in 5th place with seven weeks to go.