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Here it is, everybody! In the search for a new Mod, Johanna and I have agreed to hold a short story competition. The winner will be judged by us. Here are a few rules:-

~ This is a short story competition, so nothing exceptionordinarily long, please :)
~ Your story cannot contain any adult content
~ Your entry must be sent by PM to Johanna to avoid any copying
~ The Mods' word is final. Please do not be offended if you do not win this contest, 'cos it's meant to be fun! :)

More info will be added soon, including the theme/title of the stories. Get thinking! :)

What qualifies as "too long"?

What is the time limit?

wait, so we can't just send in a short story?

Hi guys -- thanks for your patience. I'll try to get some of your questions answered, but Ciara doesn't seem to have been online for a while :/

For now, just start thinking about your stories ... and I'll get back to you as soon as possible.

We are planning on a theme, or title, which your story has to fit; just since you all have such different imaginations, and it would be impossible to judge all your stories otherwise :)

well, we can't think about our stories if we don't know what criteria we have to meet....

True ._.

HA. Got you there.

:P Then I shall be awfully glad if you will wait 'til I can get hold of Ciara:)

Well, you should hurry, because I'm going to be busy soon and I want to enter.

Will do.

Thnx!

Messaged her ^^ Hopefully she'll reply.

Yeah, because I'm bored and I want to write.

Wheelll, in that case, this is the sentence we're going to use for the beginning of the story:

It was a cold evening in June when I saw it.

You have to start your story with that. I'm sure you'll think of something.

Just ... don't make it too long -- the deadline will most likely be sometime near the end of July, and the word count somewhere near 2,000 words. But you may start generating ideas/writing, if you like.

Good luck :)

THANK YOU!!!! I'm getting started.

You're welcome xD

OOh, might have to give this a go for funsies:)

Oh, dear; this could be hard to judge ;)

I forgot to say -- Please PM your entries to me, Johanna, when you have finished. Ciara stated that above ^

I did see that but thanks anyways:)

Welcome:) I just wanted to make it clear xD

I'm competing, but it may take a while. :D

Cool! The deadline'll probably be near the end of July ... did I say that? :)

You did:)

Gotta love my memory.

Hi, guys!

Some of you might have noticed the Short Story Competition group thread, found here: http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1.... The reason for this contest is that we are looking for a new moderator to help to keep DumbleDORKS up and running. And we have good news -- The competition is now officially open!

The more competitors the better, so if you would like to enter, please read the rules below, or click the link above.

~ This is a short story competition, so please keep all entries under 3,000 words.

~ Since this is a group competition, all entries must comply with the official DumbleDORKS group rules, found here: http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1.... These include no swearing, or adult content.

~ All entries must be sent by PM to Johanna ღ♣✽Hobbit and Proud✽♣� before the 13th of August, 2013. They will then be judged by the group Mods, and when the decision is made, the winner will be announced. (Look out for the announcement thread/message sometime after the 13th of August)

~ The Mods' word is final. This is a fun competition, please do not be offended or hurt if your entry is not chosen as the winning story.

~ All entries must begin with this sentence: It was a cold evening in June when I saw it. Any short stories not starting with this sentence will not be judged.

~ The winner of the competition will be named the new group moderator.

Please do enter if possible! I look forward to seeing all your creative entries :) Any questions, please reply to this message, or post your questions here: http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1...

Good luck writing!

PM is just short for Personal Message. If you are my friend (Which, in your case, you are, Sarah :)) You can send me a message by clicking on your inbox -- the envelope up the top right corner of your screen, clicking "Compose", and by starting to type my username into the recipient box.

If you aren't my friend, (for other members) you can still send a Personal Message to me by clicking on my profile and selecting "Send Message".

That's fine :)

I will totally do this! Can't wait!

Wait--does the winner become a mod or something?

"~ The winner of the competition will be named the new group moderator. "

Yes. The winner will become a mod :)

Great, Cat! Can't wait to see your entry! :D

I think I'll join as well.

I probably will do this as well

Awesome! :D Don't forget you have one month!

20 days left to write!

Could I join this too? Or is it too late?

You can join at any time, so long as you get your entry in before August 13th.

okay, thanks.

Thanks, Elev. Feel free to join, Joseph:)

12 days remaining!

The competition finished, right? Who won?

so who won??

Sorry; this weekend has been one of the most confusing ones of my life >.<

The competition is closed, and Delaney/the mods & I shall announce the winner soon.

Will we get to read the winning story?

If Ethan says it's OK. Ethan?

ETHANNNN!!!

Yeah, absolutely. Someone post it here. I don't think I have the file on hand. Let me check.


Nope. I don't have it so someone else will have to post it.

Okay. Jo?

It was a cold evening in June when I saw it. The low stone building sat solitary in the growing darkness, a darkness that grasped at the light, pulling at it with hungry fingers, trying to greedily consume it, leaving behind only itself. A sign outside the building, scrawled in peeling black paint on a weathered and cracked white sign, read “BRIGHTON HOLLOW ORPHANAGE FOR LOST YOUNGSTERS�. This was where I had grown up, and this was where I would return to find myself.

As I begin the walk down the old and grey flagstones that pave the way to this safe little hollow of nursing, a memory begins in my head; the memory, or, memories, of my time here. At first, little bits of though, like, my birth mother’s smile, or the ceiling above my crib, but soon they begin to be more and more clear, sharpening like a video that had been switched to HD.

I’m walking through the tall, cool grass, a voice calling every once in a while
“I know you’re out there Graft, why won’t you come?� It’s the voice of Tanta Paulina, the kind and motherly Hispanic matron of the orphanage. We are out in the forest that surrounds the building, which lies just out of town limits. I keep on walking, though, unhindered by the calls of Tanta. I was going to do it this time. I was going to make it to the Edge. All of the big kids had done it, and that somehow filled me with an urgency, a need to get to there. A need to observe the great unknown that lay just beyond my reach.

Every time I had tried this before, Tanta Paulina catching me just before I reached the clearing that housed the Edge. Every time she would grasp me, embrace me in a tight hug before looking me in the face, her soft brown eyes meeting my young 5 year old green ones.
“Chico, you know that you must not go there. You are too young, and it is too dangerous. I have told you this before.� She would say, her words tinged with a little bit of a Spanish accent. I would solemnly nod, and then as she put me down I would silently resolve to reach that place, that proverbial nirvana that all the other boys talked about. One said that he had even jumped off the Edge, something that must have been awfully brave because it made all of the other boys gasp.

I toddled towards the forest, almost to the beginning, where the journey truly began. I hear Tanta calling me in the distance, searching for me, but I was clever. I knew where to hide, places no one else knew about, like the little hollow underneath the twisted ancient oak tree, which seemed to have been there since the dawn of time itself, or perhaps that little cave that could be found by moving a rock out of the way, a cave just big enough for me to fit my small body into if I curled into a ball just right.

No, she would never catch me. Not this time, I was too well prepared. I had tried too many times to fail this time. I reached the edge of the forest, looking up into the thick and dark wall of trees, a near impenetrable border that seemed to say, nay, to scream,
“Leave!� but to me, it was as inviting as a warm cottage with a piping hot meal on a cold winters day. I stepped inside, dodging around two trees, as the forest enveloped me, welcoming me into its quiet and dreary embrace, accepting me like it had so many before me, giving me entrance over the threshold of its broad and dense trees and plants. I had entered the forest, and nothing would stop me.

Alone, I ventured through the dreary and dark trees, mossy and ancient, or so they seemed to my small self. The ground was soft and masked the soft padding of my feet on the dewy forest floor. I still could hear the sounds of pursuit, but they were quiet and far away, just as they did now,. I was halfway down the walkway to the front door when I spotted the bench. I took a seat and pondered what may happen when I got to that door. I realized then that I couldn’t fathom what would happen, and with that realization, I disappeared back into the memory.

A fawn, young and still trusting of humans was across the glade from me. I had wandered here in search of refuge from Tanta Paulina. She seemed to be relentless, but so was I. Had I been able to see it, I would wager a guess my face was covered in the dogged determination I so felt. I must get there, if only to earn the respect of the older boys, something I felt that I needed, for some reason. As I approached the fawn, though, it cantered away, its dappled cloak gleaming as it bolted from me.

Though slightly saddened, I continued my arduous journey through the trees and ferns. Occasionally I would hear the sound of small feet scampering away, or the lonesome calling of some wild songbird, but it was near silent for the most part. Then, there was an open clearing of soft green grass and beyond that� the Edge.

I had reached it, and now that I was here, I was ready to go, but something held me back. I stood there, looking at the edge, similar to how I was looking at the door to the orphanage now, and I was held back by something, some irrepressible force that I would have to find a way to overcome if I was to survive ridicule, or in my case, if I was to find out about my past.

My young self walks slowly across the clearing, and the air is so silent and still that every padding footfall sounds like a gunshot.

In the same way, I start towards the door, the mossy cobblestones muting my footsteps as I march solemnly towards it.

I reach the Edge, my toes on the very tip of the precipice and I look down past them, down the many feet to the still water below, into the very depths of the clear lake that sits at the bottom, and I can see now why they love it here so much. I can see why they would jump off into the lake, or just stand here contemplating. I consider jumping, but turn around out of fear, nearly sprinting my way back to the safety of the rest of the kids and Paulina.

That’s where I differ from my younger counterpart. I know now that if anything is going to be accomplished, I must take the plunge, leap off the edge with wild abandon, free fall down into the unknown waters that lay below. I know this now, and I know what I must do. I take a deep breath and lift my arm slowly. My hand closes into a fist, and I knock.

There was a word limit of 3,000, I believe.