Late last year my local library sponsored a "Winter Writing Contest." Entries could be short story, essay, or poem, less than 1500 words, with the theme of "Noo Awlins [sic] Turns 300!" They gave us ten infuriatingly abstract words, at least of seven of which had to be in your submission (revelry, anniversary, inheritance, and commemorate were some of them). I had no idea what I could possibly say about this place. Then my lady friend Miss Linda said, "Ghosts." And I was off and running, and even managed to use eight of the ten words.
Well! I won first prize, can ya believe it? A "$100 value prize pack," they say, is what I've won. I'm slated to read my selection aloud tonight at one of the library branches with the other two winners.
A selection:
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Jean-Baptiste le Moyne, Sieur de Bienville, grinned back. “Huey, mon ami! Glad I am that you could join us. Permit me to introduce a countryman of mine, the esteemed governor of our colony before I built my city: Antoine de La Mothe.”
“I prefer to be known as Sieur de la Cadillac.” The older ghost pointedly ignored the thick-fingered hand that the newcomer held out.
“Well, Monsieur Caddy-ack, I’m Huey P. Long. Everybody around here calls me the Kingfish.” Huey grinned. “One thing about bein’ dead, cigars cain’t hurt you any more. Care for a Cuban, Antoine?”
*
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The contest flyer stressed originality, and that's what I gave 'em. (I hope the prize pack isn't a hundred bucks' worth of bubble gum.)
Well! I won first prize, can ya believe it? A "$100 value prize pack," they say, is what I've won. I'm slated to read my selection aloud tonight at one of the library branches with the other two winners.
A selection:
*
*
Jean-Baptiste le Moyne, Sieur de Bienville, grinned back. “Huey, mon ami! Glad I am that you could join us. Permit me to introduce a countryman of mine, the esteemed governor of our colony before I built my city: Antoine de La Mothe.”
“I prefer to be known as Sieur de la Cadillac.” The older ghost pointedly ignored the thick-fingered hand that the newcomer held out.
“Well, Monsieur Caddy-ack, I’m Huey P. Long. Everybody around here calls me the Kingfish.” Huey grinned. “One thing about bein’ dead, cigars cain’t hurt you any more. Care for a Cuban, Antoine?”
*
*
The contest flyer stressed originality, and that's what I gave 'em. (I hope the prize pack isn't a hundred bucks' worth of bubble gum.)