Round 1 Closes in:
Day(s)
:
Hour(s)
:
Minute(s)
:
Second(s)
The sky’s the limit
Well, actually Sunday night’s the limit. That’s how long you’ve got to complete an essay using the prompt that you’re about to read. The good news is, you don’t have to answer a question or constrain yourself to a topic. The bad news is that you’ve got to write this essay so that the prompt doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb.
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 you’ll be swearing at us about all weekend:
Final round prompt
If I’d known [name or relationship] was watching, I might not have done it.
Ordinarily, when we give a sentence prompt, you can’t change ANYTHING about it. This time we’re trying something a little different, to keep the prompt flexible in situation (but not voice, you still can’t change the verb tense or phrasing or add words to it). You may replace the bracketted text with a name, occupation, or description that relates the watcher to the narrator. Examples: Nadiya, Hitesh, Shawn, Mr. Landeau, Grandma, my mom, my teacher, the mechanic, the entire third grade class. And so forth, but you get the picture. You need to fill in the blank with an identifiable person or group (but you can’t change that was to were, so be careful)!
The only other change you can make is to add quotes around the text if you’re putting it in dialogue.
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! (Also, we don’t want you to accidentally email your questions to a judge; it’s happened! Don’t be that guy!)
You’ll receive your feedback on Wednesday, September 16, and we’ll announce the winners on Friday, September 18, at 3pm US Eastern Time.
We hope you have as much fun with the prompt as we had picking it 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.
