• Visit Indigo

    Sledgehammer is proudly presented by Indigo, which offers editing, design, and more to authors and publishers around the world.

    Visit us at www.indigoediting.com to learn more and to schedule a free sample edit and initial consultation.

    Indigo: editing, design,
    and more


    Sign up for our monthly e-newsletter.
  • Join Our Networks

  • Photo Gallery

    To view photos of Sledgehammers past, visit our Facebook photo albums!

    All photos property of Sledgehammer Writing Contest. Most photos copyright Doug Geisler.

Sledgehammer Readings

All photos by Doug Geisler

Irreconciliation

2009 story submission by “Misanthrope” (Ryan Kelly, Natalie Walker, Sarah Fonnesbeck, Arthur Ross)

The crowd of mingling people coalesced into a line and looked attentive down the street at the approach of the bus.  Foremost among them was a man in a worn but pleasant brown jacket, holding a large book in one hand and smiling in the warm weather.  He greeted the driver as he ascended the few stairs into the bus.
“How you doin’ hon,” she said.

“Oh, you know me Lori, still standing.”

She busied herself taking the fares of the other passengers and the bus lurched into motion a moment before he had sat down, bringing him hard into the seat and against the elderly woman sitting next to the window.
The bus pulled away from the stop and as it did so a young man on a bicycle came racing along side, yelling, “Hey, wait, hold up! Hold the bus!”
Continue reading

Appearance

2009 Story Submission by “The Word Millers” (Jason and Karina Miller)

Friday Evening

“How much longer?” Samantha asks impatiently as we wait at the crosswalk for permission to cross the busy intersection. Her hand grips mine tightly in anticipation, her eyes fixed on the dance studio across the street where her friends wait  to start practicing plié’s and whatever 8-year-old girls do in ballet studios. It’s only been a week, and she is already standing out amongst her peers. I’m not in the least bit surprised but I can only think one thing.

This can’t end well.

The little green, walking man appears and Samantha nearly tears my arm out of its socket as she takes off like an Olympic sprinter from the blocks. After regaining my balance, I try to walk at a leisurely pace through the crosswalk.  I’m not weak, just average, but she’s pulling pretty hard, requiring me to take long, fast strides in an attempt to match pace without running.

Continue reading