I have been competing in writing competitions for ages and have never won any. I love them and keep submitting, not to win but to inspire myself to write new and different things.
Last year I was shortlisted for one of them. Finally! Keep writing my storytelling friends, you never know when your words will speak to someone.
Here is my submission:
It all started that day I fell up the stairs.
Don’t be so hard on yourself Sam, it happens to the best of us.
You’re right! I’m sure it does. If I were a gambler (I’m not really), I’d say that 100% of humans, who walk, have fallen up the stairs at least once. I would also wager that 100% of those humans (excluding me) weren’t wearing a frilly, pink prom dress (yes, it did have shoulder pads) whilst competing in a beauty pageant at the local mall.
Instant failure at an awkward age in the most awkward of ways. When I look back on the event now, I think I knew I was doomed from the start. My mom was pretty. And popular. And outgoing. She was the one who put me in the competition. Not in a creepy Show Mom kinda way, more in a “I really loved doing this thing in life and you might too” kinda way. I didn’t.
Fast forward to now. This moment. The one when I’m standing in front of a gravestone in the rain. Mascara streaming down my cheeks.
There were so many things I could’ve done differently today. Like bring an umbrella. Or wear waterproof mascara. Or not care.