As we begin the new year, we at Indigo Editing are looking for ways to improve our Sledgehammer Writing Contests. The past two years have been a blast while shattering writer’s block in both Portland and Seattle. We want your input to make this year’s Sledgehammer the most successful!
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Writers to your marks. Get set. Shatter!
(Your writer’s block, that is.)
For the second year running, the Sledgehammer Writing Contest innovatively incorporates a scavenger hunt with a team competition and a prize package worth thousands of dollars—oh, and did we mention there’s a 36-hour time limit?
Here’s how it works:
Teams of writers converge at noon on Saturday to receive their first writing prompt and scavenger hunt 
clues. From there they head out to several locations around the city to gather all four writing prompts, and then they have 36 hours to write the best fiction piece they can. Final submissions are due back in person
by 11:59 p.m. on Sunday.
The following week, competitors will read their stories at an unveiling (Portland: Monday, August 31, 6 p.m. at the Writers’ Dojo; Seattle: TBA), and the audience will vote on the top three. The top three from each city will win gift certificates to local businesses, be invited to read their work at Wordstock and other venues, and go into the running for the grand prize 
package worth thousands of dollars!
Thanks to all of our sponsors
who make the prize package so phenomenal.
Portland: August 29-30
Portland start and end location: Writers’ Dojo, 7518 N. Chicago Ave.
Portland reading: Monday, August 31, 6. p.m. at the Writers’ Dojo
Seattle: September 19-20
Seattle start location: Rialto Pasta Bar & Grill, 4307 Fremont Ave. N.
Seattle reading: TBA
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The second Mini Sledgehammer was another resounding success. Thank you to Nena at St. Johns Booksellers for hosting it and to all the writers who participated!
Our 36-minute writing contest prompts were:
a car salesman
a snowboard
kicking
“This weather’s got everybody…”
Karen Hixson took home the prize with this story:
It was difficult for her to leave the garage. It was a sort of sanctuary for her. A place without noise or awkwardness, much different than that of the main house. The tension among them was thick. She kicked her way through it to make space for herself, her experience…her feelings. Her family openly hated how, at times, she made her feelings bigger, like a balloon found at the check out line, just to be seen. They popped in the same way: loudly, quickly and without warning.
She made a spot for herself in the corner among all the junk that inhabited the space. She found herself organizing the license plates on the wall, a sort of wallpaper, leftover from her stepfather’s stint as a car salesman. Somehow, it was easy for her to appreciate the license plates: simple, flat and known. Something she could count on that wouldn’t flex with the passing time. He reluctantly allowed her to move her room to the garage.
She made her way through the piles. Garbage bags filled with outdated clothes, boxes of Christmas ornaments-also outdated, some camping equipment and her brother’s snowboard. It reminded her of their trip to the Poconos a couple months back. What a train wreck of a family trip. Jerry, her brother, snuck some George Dickel into his Sigg bottle and was feeling fine before they arrived. He wanted to preempt the expected discomfort. She was jealous of his forethought.
It was their final trip together as a family. After an obligatory dinner in the garish lodge, she retreated to a quiet corner to read her book. She looked around. The lodge was filled with people who were talking to each other, large pitchers of beer in hand, looking carefree, with pink cheeks. Having escaped from their lives in the small towns and somewhat larger towns that surrounded the mountains, they all appeared transformed, a different version of themselves. She spent a long time watching them.
The snow fell outside. It made everything seem different somehow. A boy just about her age plopped down beside her and said, “This weather has got everyone in total denial.”
“No shit,” she said.
© 2009 Karen Hixson
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The weekend’s Mini Sledgehammer was a blast! We headed out to Cloud and Leaf Bookstore in Manzanita (great people, great books!) and hosted the first 36-minute writing contest in conjunction with Sledgehammer.
The prompts were:
an athlete
Tabasco sauce
hanging Christmas ornaments
“You better watch out…”
Tobi Nason took home the prize with this story:
He sat, watching T.V. Christmas sucked, he thought. All that happy stuff. Things used to be different. He once was a famous golfer, but well, things got out of hand, and now he just sat.
He lived alone since his wife kicked him out. He still hadn’t unpacked. Boxes of his stuff and yes, a small box of Christmas ornaments sat in the corner. The ornaments he brought into the marriage. The ones his ex never really liked. For some reason, there never seemed to be enough room on the tree for them.
“Sorry, hon. Darn,” and his wife would smile that phony thing she did.
By God, its Christmas! And I’m hanging my ornaments, he thought.
He placed an ornament off the hanging kitchen light fixture – a gourd with sporadic sequins and layer of dust. No, it wasn’t the best of the lot, but he made it in the 10th grade. The next one was a concoction of red and green beads and yarn. Moths had eaten some part of it. Hm. Third grade?
It depressed him. Was this all he brought into the marriage? Is this why Elise left him – because he was ill-equpped, even for Christmas?
He did take some pride, though, in one area. He was the life of the party and even Elise would agree to that. He knew his beer, his Scotch, his wine. He kept Tabasco sauce in a gallon jug from Costco, and he felt it added that extra touch to anything. Beer. Bloody Marys. Bad wine.
Elise had told him before he left – or rather, before she packed up his golf equipment and pathetic ornaments and cooler – she said, “You better watch out…”
He immediately thought…I better not cry.
“You better not pout.”
I know, he thought and you’re going to tell me why, aren’t you??
“Max, honey,” she said, “take care, really. Its Christmas. Time for a change. You run over a fire hydrant, you drink a lot and who knows, you may have a woman or two. But this stuff catches up with a person. Like right now.”
And she slammed the door. Maybe she didn’t slam it but it felt like a slam. And nothing feels worse than to be surrounded by our your boxed worldly possessions and you, of all people, don’t even want them.
Elise was right. His ornaments sucked. He had this urge to trash everything.
Instead, he imagined himself lining up a winning putt, the sun shining, the air cool. He sank the putt, and the crowd roared. He looked younger, happier.
He popped open a beer, gave two shakes of Tabasco and sang softly:
“Yes, World…. You better watch out….
I’m coming back.”
© 2009 Tobi Nason
Join for the next Mini Sledgehammer this Saturday, December 12 at St. Johns Booksellers in Portland. Maybe you’ll be the next writer to take home the prizes!
Filed under: Mini Sledgehammers | Tagged: 36-minute writing contest, Cloud and Leaf Bookstore, prizes, Sledgehammer, Tobi Nason, writing contest | Leave a Comment »
Join us for Mini Sledgehammer events this winter!
Saturday, December 5, 2009
1-3 p.m.
Cloud and Leaf Bookstore
148 Laneda Drive
Manzanita, Oregon 97130
Saturday, December 12, 2009
2-4 p.m.
St. Johns Booksellers
8622 N. Lombard Street
Portland, Oregon 97203
These events feature the 2009 Sledgehammer grand prize winner as well as a 36-minute writing contest for you to flex your own competition muscles!
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All photos by Doug Geisler
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