The Final Round Closes in:
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Decisions!
Fortunately for me, I only had to decide on the picture for this post. Decisions are hard. They get harder when I do things like forget to eat, or leave my tea in the microwave for three hours instead of drinking it. (Don’t tell me not to make tea in the microwave, you’re not my mom. Unless this is my mom, in which case, I was just heating up the water, Mom, I swear the teabag wasn’t in it.) Deciding on the prompt for this weekend was a team effort, though. Whether your version of teamwork is a beta reader or just someone to float ideas past over a cup of tea, don’t leave it out of your plans. Outside input is like food for writers: there’s always going to be something you miss. Maybe it’s an idea; maybe it’s a typo. Maybe it’s a gentle editorial hand saying Rowan, you’re rambling and they just want their prompt.
As you’re deciding where the prompt for the final round of the Super Challenge takes you this weekend, remember to eat, drink, and ask friends for help if you need to. And remember this, too: you’ve made it this far; you’ve got a lot to offer. Our judges are excited to see where you go with this one!
In the final round of the Super Challenge, your prompt is a sentence. You’ll be incorporating it into your essay wherever you like. You can use it as the first or last sentence, repeat it throughout as a hook, or just slip it in somewhere in the middle. The catch is, it should sound like your sentence.
Your essay can be personal or persuasive, but it can’t be over 1,000 words! Fortunately, your title page (check out the revised rules for a final round title page below) and any content warning you think is appropriate for your work don’t count.
Ready? Here’s the prompt we decided on:
Final Round Prompt
It wasn’t a crisis yet.
When you use this sentence, you can’t change anything about it. Don’t add an ellipsis to make it “It wasn’t a crisis… yet.” Don’t add words to it like “It wasn’t a crisis yet, but it was going to be if I didn’t get the Jell-O out of the pool.” The only change you can make is adding quotes around it to include it in dialogue. Got it? Great.
Wait, wait, there’s more!
Don’t post your story anywhere on the Internet until after our judges are done and you get your feedback! But if you want to talk up the competition or live-tweet your writing process, use the hashtag #YWsuper. Just remember not to include identifying details about which story is yours!
Your essays are due Sunday at 10pm US Eastern Time. Remember to check the rules for formatting, including all those fiddly details like title page, font, and filename. Don’t get disqualified on a technicality! We know it seems really useless at times, but all those rules have a purpose, from helping get your file where it needs to be to making sure you’re read anonymously and fairly.
For the final round, the “round number and group number” lines of your title page are combined. Just say “Final Round” and include your title, prompt, and any content warning you think is appropriate.
example:
Final Round
The Bobsled
Prompt: “We called her Rosebud, because we could.”
CW: medical trauma, hospitalization.
Email your questions to superchallenge@yeahwrite.me—we will not be reviewing other email addresses or social media for your questions over the weekend and we want to make sure you get the answers you need!
You’ll receive your feedback on March 18, and we’ll announce the winner on March 20 at 3pm US Eastern Time.
We hope you have as much fun with the prompts as we had picking them out. Good luck, and good writing!
About the author:
Rowan submitted exactly one piece of microfiction to YeahWrite before being consumed by the editorial darkside. She spent some time working hard as our Submissions Editor before becoming YeahWrite’s Managing Editor in 2016. She was a BlogHer Voice of the Year in 2017 for her work on intersectional feminism, but she suggests you find and follow WOC instead. In real life she’s been at various times an attorney, aerialist, professional knitter, artist, graphic designer (yes, they’re different things), editor, secretary, tailor, and martial artist. It bothers her vaguely that the preceding list isn’t alphabetized, but the Oxford comma makes up for it. She lives in Portlandia with a menagerie which includes at least one other human. She tells lies at textwall and uncomfortable truths at CrossKnit.
