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November is National Novel Writing Month. So, we’re presenting a challenge to you. Write a novel in 12 words or less and send it to us at onthemedia@wnyc.org. Or post it here in our comments section. The deadline is November 19th. We'll read our favorites on the air Thanksgiving weekend. Good luck!
When Mom set out coffee cups, it was an invitation to talk.
The above is my entry to OTM's Novel Challenge.
I never looked down, even in Autumn with the fallen all around.
Almost immediately, her smile was caught, shared and proved life-giving.
Her bedside pre-accident photo will remind doctors why they're working so hard.
After the end met the beginning, everything changed. Life got worse. Again.
In the army, George discovered he was a coward. He told nobody.
Mass destruction raised domestic spying
Chads razed skyscrapers lying
USS Truthiness waterboarding
I count 12 words. Oh, was it supposed to make sense?
A submission for the novel challenge:
LIVING ABROAD
This is China!
This is China?
This is China.
For everything I learned while on Welfare, I am a better person.
Once upon a time they lived happily ever after. Except, perhaps, her.
I am a card, you will envy where I have been hidden.
Above is my submission for the novel challenge.
By the way, I'm from China!
I'm from China?
I'm from China.
Although the suicides were given the bodies of birds, they sat silent.
Born,school,Military,married,two children,worked,retired and then he died.
The confluence of ancestral souls sang desperately. Noise and nonsense loomed; ubiquitous.
My enty:
After many years of suffering, she left and was never heard from again.
She stopped and turned around. But the door was locked behind her.
She winced. He cried. They moved imperceptively but eternally toward each other.
"Honeymoon Suite"
They left their rings in the ashtray, before checking out.
She sits, silently sobbing.
Waiting for him to love her.
Reconciliation.
Worshipping within Christianity, Islam, Secular/Nonreligious/Agnostic/Atheist, Hinduism, Chinese traditional religion, Buddhism, Primal-indigenous, African Traditional & Diasporic, Sikhism, Juche, Spiritism, Judaism, Baha'i, Jainism, Shinto, Cao Dai, Zoroastrianism, Tenrikyo, Neo-Paganism, Unitarian-Universalism, Rastafarianism, and Scientology.
Faith in humanity.
It was over before it had ever had a chance to begin.
The children wept as mother shuddered. Father was the whiskey man again.
"There are no atheists in foxholes," said the Chaplain, "so get out!"
Head throbbing, eye blackened,
“Never again,” Sarah promises,
“I leave him tomorrow.”
Wars, the history of the day, and then, curiously, my life.
OTM Novel Challenge:
Obituary; first five words free?
She thought.
"Charles dead. Yacht for Sale."
With or without you!
Whither without you?
With her, without you.
OTM Novel Challenge:
We lose the map, our minds, argue, never get to The Point.
Town loon sealed his fate. Prison. Russian freedom. Emigration, America, true freedom.
My entry into the contest:
Maggie closed her eyes. She had family, was loved. It was enough.
My novel contribution -
"Rub my head - for luck," she said, "before my hair grows back."
"Civilian," he answered.
"Bullshit. Where's Osama?"
"Hunh?"
"Fine." In English, "Gitmo, now."
Awaking, thinking, blinking, smiling, moving. Resolve. Not thinking, moving, gliding spontaneously.
Here are my two entries for the novel contest.
Sick on Halloween. Brother trick or treats for both. Candy Mother lode!
Siblings lost in woods. Gingerbread house. House gives way.
fracture spines.
Why is his hand on my butt?
SLAP
"Letting go.....workplace violence."
Swallowed her pride, opened her heart, took a chance, lived life again.
Midnight. Moonlight. Fog and sea clasp hands against intruders. The ship disappears.
He lived a healthy life. Now at peace, he eats potato chips.
OTM Novel Challenge:
My version:
They made love. He left. She cried.
My wife's typically snappy retort:
They made love. He left. She smiled.
She was born; given away. And yet, she lived a beautiful life.
My Science-fiction entry to the novel contest:
In today's news, the U.S. saves another stupid nation from its idealism.
High Schoolers attempt:
Deceased name: John Doe
Age: 22
Family: Wife/Two Daughters
Occupation: Soldier
She once laughed when he warned against getting what you wished for.
My 12 word novel:
I bought groceries. I unloaded all but one. Stink penetrates station wagons.
Once upon a time. The end.
i'm stretching (or shrinking, or cheating) by making my proper nouns one word, but i just can't do it any other way... ahh well, just for fun...
My 12 word novel:
She had, regretfully, dustbusted her Berlin Wall morsel that Christmas Eve spent on mushrooms.
He pulled the engagement ring off his finger. The wedding was off.
My novel (12 words is hard; I had so much more to say):
It's all gone wrong. Youth knew, but we smashed them. How sad.
I forgot to tell you the name of my novel. It's called "The Next Generations".
It's all gone wrong. Youth knew, but we smashed them. How sad.
My two entries for the OTM Novel contest:
Young man. Boot camp. Fallujah, Iraq. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Commits suicide.
He struck. She shot. His funeral. Her lost trial. Life without parole.
Dear Editor,
Allow me to submit a rewrite of my novel, "The Next Generations":
It's all gone wrong. Youth knew, but the message was returned, undeliverable.
Thanks for the opportunity to submit this weighty tome from my heart, and to read others' submisssions. I've especially enjoyed the light fiction and documentaries.
With homage to Frederic Brown and Ron Smith.
http://www.everything2.com/index.pl?node_id=1380724
Submission:
The last man sat quietly. There was a lock on the door.
Moose in the road, runs to the other side. Watch out!
"We're here!" "Let's play!" If only. Laura never dared open the door.
Couldn’t sleep. Wrote a eulogy for my father’s funeral. Cried. Then smiled.
In 2007 we lost our innocence. In 2027 we lost our will.
Raised by orangutans, Randy didn’t recognize the sound of the train whistle.
Bad enough he shot me, but he used my own gun.
the novel:
Armistice Day 2007, echoes the
slaughter, the ceaselessness ,
of lives lost now.
It didn't actually hurt, but the gunpowder tasted strange.
“Plasma tv? BMW? McMansion?”
“Why sure!”
“Cross border? Find work?”
“Hell no.”
Cheating title: Public Opinion Poll
“Nobody will love you
Like your mama,” Mama said.
And nobody did.
For OTM...
When the Earth exploded, the beginning ended.
Without sunscreen, our protagonist died of sun poisoning in just twelve words.
For the novel-writing contest:
"Your money or your life."
"My life. Then I won't die alone."
“Mother, it’s me, Claire,”
Said the stranger,
Water washing
Her long face.
A singular genius was the prison that barred his heart from humanity.
"There was no there there," the teardrops seem to be telling him.
Dear roommate, I love you madly, but you’re still technically married.
Some lives are lost, others never seem to end. His was neither.
Two Novelas:
1. I see now that I have taken lighthouses for granted.
2. Failure was unavoidable. She perished. I leave base camp at dawn.
OTM Novel Challenge:
Love at first sight. Then pursuit, commitment, and dissolution. Finally, inappropriate optimism.
Title: Uniform Hypocrisy
our story: So called Commander in Chief tells General–President to disrobe. Urdu sum.
12 Word Novel for Veteran's Day.
Barracks in Alabama.
Joint, hemostat, swinging from the ceiling.
Vietnam draftee vacation.
Elm
by Chris Gray
From New Haven soil he grew, his ashes scattered on the Green.
(much enjoyed many of the above)
Ah, so it's a story you want?
Foreshadows friend acts villain. Starstruck woman cries. Warrior gasps his eulogy. Fin.
The journey would be long, dark and perilous, so I stayed home.
My primal urge to communicate offers you plot, character, conflict, resolution. Conclusion.
Amber waves of palms,
Melting mountain majesties:
Courtesy of
The hanging chad.
My mother spread the ashed and put the ladle away. Good night.
Alka-selzer bubbles replaced those from champagne as the years rolled on.
Ah, found a much better wording!
I know we have 7 more days, but I think this autobiographal novel is complete, now.
Elm
by Chris Gray
From New Haven soil he grew, becoming ashes scattered on the Green.
Years ago, a six word city slogan contest was held. “Once A Capital, Always The Heart!” was my submission.
The day of the then-Mayor’s announcement of the winning entry, it was summarily postponed. I am guessing he realized whose submission had won and balked.
Later, they settled upon, “New Haven, Where Technology Meets Tradition”, a soulless ritual.
Oops. I have to remember to use sell check before I submit.
Life is social, sacrifice, then joy through cooperative work, and equals salvation.
A new bride, she sat in the men's only section at church.
She died with a weak smile, telling her family, "You never knew..."
"America's not so different," said the immigrant. His life changed like that.
Swollen Cheerios in the sink preceded lives punctuated with many finer feasts.
My entry:
Year 10. Grade 3. I try to give him what he needs.
I don't know why Max bites. Do dogs have bipolar disorder?
Young, like new shoe laces, she picked her target of old shoes.
I don't know why Max bites. Do dogs have Bipolar disorder?
Hello!
Goodbye.
"She's in France."
Yes, he could live in a vinyard.
An invitation to Tango unraveled more than expensive therapy could ever touch.
Novel:
Thanks for years of devotion. You keep the kids.
He saw in his newborn's eyes, his grandmother's blue questioning, accusatory stare.
Bank got house. Cancer got wife. Chinaman got job.
I got God.
Romance novel [and autobiography] first:
1966: Cute!
2006: He is ethical, hard working, sensitive -- and still cute.
Now a darker turn for the next three:
(1) Through the steamy window, they saw her drop the towel. “Now.”
(2) Her legs. Too bad he didn’t keep his eyes on the road.
(3) That drip is driving me crazy.
Wait…THAT’S NOT water!
