Aug 19, 2014

WRiTE CLUB 2014 Play-offs - Round One / Bout 2

We've narrowed the field down to eighteen and now it’s time to move into play-off rounds – which as promised will come at a rapid fire pace.  I will be posting one contest a day this week (Mon-Fri) and four next week (Mon-Thur).  The voting for all nine bouts will remain open until noon on Sunday, August 31st.  Your task remains simple…read the submission from each WRiTER carefully and leave your vote for the sample that resonates with you the most.  If you haven’t already done so in the previous rounds, offer some critique if you have time.  Anyone reading this can vote, so blog/tweet/facebook/text/smoke signal everyone you know and get them to take part in the fun.  Vote on as many bouts as you can get around to.  Whether that is one bout, or all nine, how much you participate is up to you. 

Here’s something else to keep in mind for this round...every vote counts. That’s because the contestant who doesn't win their bout but garners the most votes amongst all of the other losers, will become a wildcard winner and still advance to round 2. 

The winners will be posted late in the afternoon on August 31 and then round 2 will kick off the following Monday, September 1st, with all new 500 word submissions from the nine advancing contestants.

Good luck to all of the WRiTER’s!

And now…..

In this corner welcome back to the ring.....Dame Hortense Pemberton

Winicker would rather pee in her pants than use the Plouffes’ bathroom. She opened the front door and stepped into the apartment building’s courtyard, wiggling and crossing her legs. She rushed to the big, iron gate and looked down the street in one direction, and then the other. She spotted exactly what she was hoping to find—an ugly gray pay toilet.

Winicker dug a handful of change out of her pocket and inserted four coins in the slot next to the door until it opened. Inside, the bathroom was dark, and the smell of disinfectant stung Winicker’s nose and eyes. Even with the smell, and even with the scary-looking French graffiti scrawled across the thin wall above the toilet, Winicker was glad not to be using the Plouffes’ bidet.

When she finished using the bathroom, Winicker sighed a very content sigh. “Sweet relief,” she said. But the sweet relief only lasted a moment. The pay toilet suddenly seemed much smaller and darker than it did just a few seconds earlier. She rubbed hand sanitizer on both hands from a little dispenser on the wall, and stood to open the door. The problem was, the door wouldn’t open. Winicker pushed as hard as she could on the handle. Then she pulled as hard as she could on the handle. The door did not budge.
“Help me! Can anyone hear me? I’m stuck in here! Hello! I need help!”

Winicker banged on the bathroom door with both fists. She looked around frantically for some kind of emergency button, but all she found were more graffiti, lots of old gum, and a wad of wet toilet paper stuck to the wall. “Help! I’m stuck in here! Can anyone hear me?”

Her stomach felt like it was falling out of her body when she realized that Grandma Balthazar and her mother didn’t know where she was. She never told them that she was going to use a pay toilet. They thought she was next door in Mirabel Plouffe’s apartment!


Winicker imagined Mirabel watching the story unfold on her daily afternoon news show. She would sip some kind of awful French tea and shake her head and say, How perfectly terrible. I wonder why she didn’t just use our bathroom with its fancy French bidet? Winicker wished more than anything that she had used the Plouffes’ bathroom. She wished that she had seen the Eiffel Tower and all of the other things in Paris that Mirabel and Grandma Balthazar told her were so wonderful. Instead, the very last thing Winicker would ever see would be graffiti and a wet wad of toilet paper stuck to the wall of the pay toilet.



And in the other corner, also anxious to return to the ring, let me re-introduce.... petrichor

We drift to Montpelier on the last of the winter’s wind. It is April. Time for crocuses to be born joyous amid the green grass and forsythias to spread their golden arms wide, laughing at us who cannot bear the cold wind that bites our noses and stings our eyes. But there are no flowers here. The grass is sparse and the shrubs dormant.

Before I can stop her, Analise removes her coat and gives it to a girl with bruised eyes who sits hunched over and shivering at the train depot.

“Anali!” my daughter scolds her. “Gramma stitched that coat for you. Must you be so careless with it? You have no other.”

What Claire says is true. I made that coat myself. Late hours that stretched autumn into moonlight, every stitch of the compass on its back embroidered and blessed, and Analise had only that coat to ward off the chill.

“She needs it so much more than I do,” Analise answers. This girl, my granddaughter, her heart warms her from the inside. “Besides, I think we will settle here,” she says. “I like it already.”

There is not much to like here yet. We only just arrived at this station and have not seen the town. Still, we promised to let Analise choose our destination this time. She wore the compass and was sure of our direction. Now here we are, and she has decided to stay.

Claire and Analise shoulder their bags and share the weight of mine between them. I am old and it is enough that I carry my own weight down the cobbled streets. Analise points to a sign posted on a grimy window. The tailor shop is for rent, and the apartment above it, too. Inside, a thick layer of dust pads the floors and all the surfaces need scrubbing, the walls a fresh coat of paint.

“You can use whatever is here,” the rental agent says. “The apartment is furnished.”

“And the sewing machines in the shop?” Claire asks. “Can we use them?”

“Yes, of course. Whatever is here is yours. The price includes everything. The previous owners have no use for it now,” the rental agent says.

“Dead?” Analise asks. She has never cared for subtlety.

“Yes,” the rental agent says. Her whisper is barely an answer.

“But not gone,” Analise says and I wonder if she can sense ghosts here. My own eyes have grown too dim to see them. Or, maybe I don’t want to see them. Surely, they are a reminder of what is yet to come soon, too soon.

“They were your parents,” Analise says, “and you still think of them.”

I do think of them, my own parents, and I wonder if I could have changed anything by stitching health into his nightshirt, long life into her apron. But Analise is speaking to the rental agent, not me.

Remember the WRiTE CLUB motto, it’s not about the last man/woman standing, it’s about who knocks the audience out!


  1. Ouch -- tough pairing. I like both of these and would like to see both advance.But since I have to choose, I'm going with petrichor. There's a little more depth and subtlety in their piece.

  2. Oh wow, both should go to the next round. Dame's piece is perfect voice for MG and I love that scene. Petrichor has nice subtext and an excellent mood. I don't want to choose!

    But since I have to, I think I'll go against the grain here and vote Dame Hortense Pemberton. I had to go down to "first lines" for this pick. In truth, the Dame had me with a better hook. Her first paragraph was much stronger in pull. But, Petrichor, STILL love it too!

  3. Petrichor, love the subtlety of the magic in this world, the backward glances and the foreshadowing.

    Dame is plain ridiculous fun. :) One thing I noticed (other than the high instance of toilet/bidet--might cut a couple) was how Winicker's reaction seemed to skip embarrassment on its way to hysteria. I'd expect some *oh seriously, no, not locked in a bathroom* before she starts climbing the walls.

    This time, Petrichor.

  4. Looks like I'm voting against the majority today....Dame Hortense Pemberton.

  5. These were two of my favorite. Congrats to both authors! I give this round to Dame Pemberton, mostly because the genre and voice appeals to me a bit more

  6. It's getting harder! I vote Petrichor this bout. Good luck to you both.

  7. I loved both of these the first time around. I don't want to decide, so I counted votes to see where things lie. I'm casting my vote for Dame Hortense Pemberton and hoping for a wildcard winner. :)

  8. Wow...gonna have to go with Petrichor, but it was so hard to decide!
    Raquel Byrnes

  9. Petrichor for me! Both are quite enjoyable, though.

  10. It's such a tie for me between these two! LOL. Making it difficult to pick. By a very narrow margin, petrichor gets my vote.

  11. Petrichor. They were both well done, but Petrichor's seems more developed.

  12. Too tough between these two! After staring for a long time, I go with petri.

  13. Petrichor. While Dame Pemberton's entry is awfully cute, the writing needs a little tidying up (such as fixing the odd overuse of the character's name). The only real flaw in Petrichor's is the unclear transition at the very end, and although I'm not crazy about the recent fad for writing in present tense, there's something very evocative about the voice in this passage.

  14. Petrichor, definitely

  15. Dang it and double dang it. I didn't get to vote in Petrichor's round in the first phase of WRiTE CLUB 2014 and the Dame was my pick in her round. So I got to read Petrichor this round and I am impressed. I almost threw a coin, which I have been known to do (since it doesn't violate any WRiTE CLUB rules [that I know of!]} But I am going with:
    Dame Hortense Pemberton
    because I ever-so-slightly prefer the promise of a story snippet where a character is locked in a pay toilet with preternatural properties vs. a story snippet where characters who can impart magic in the work of their hands and maybe see dead people buy a sewing shop that is probably haunted.

    And dear WRiTERs, doesn't that just say a whole heck of a lot more about me as a reader?

    Both entries ... excellent. Congrats on moving to this round!

  16. Dame Hortense Pemberton.

  17. Aw man. They're so different! I'm going to go with Petrichor on this one for depth of story, but would love to read the Dame's full story because it sounds fun!

  18. I loved both of these SO much. I want to read more of both of them right now! But since I'm also hoping for a wild card round, I'll go with:

    Dame Hortense Pemberton