Microfiction. Microprose. Short-short stories. “Drabbles.” No matter what your term for the shortest fiction out there is, we love it too. And with only a few tiny weeks remaining in 2020 (seriously? the longest year in ever is almost over?), we thought we’d follow suit in our fiction challenge, by shrinking the wordcount and number of writing rounds!
But make no mistake: a good microstory doesn’t take less time to write than a good short story. Instead of thinking about microprose as an appetizer, a warmup, something to dash off when you’ve got no time to write a “real” story, think of it as the equivalent of an exquisitely crafted amuse-bouche. Yes, the end result is bite sized, but hours of care, craft, and skill went into balancing the taste profile, preparation, and presentation of this tiny object, consumed in moments but (with a little luck) remembered for years.
YeahWrite has always been a fan of a tight wordcount, ever since our original nonfiction grids with a 500-word limit — half the wordcount of most short submission markets. With microfiction we add an additional level of difficulty. You’re not shooting for under a limit, but for an exact wordcount. That means extra care and craft goes into selecting each word while never forgetting that you’re trying to tell a complete story, with every element of plot at least implicated. Oh, and all those pesky rules of grammar still apply, too! No dropping articles, ignoring words, and just Captain Kirking your way through your story. Not sure what we mean? Check out our archives for past micro prompts and stories!
So get your pens ready: registration opens today for YeahWrite’s first-ever microfiction Super Challenge! We provide the prompts, you provide some teeny tiny stories (under 100 words, we’ll give you the exact count with your prompt)—in just 48 hours.
PLOT TWIST: we’re capping entries at 40. So get yours in today!
The microfiction Super Challenge is a fast and furious competition that takes place over one weekend: November 13-15, 2020. That’s right, one round of writing, but multiple rounds of judging. As always, each judge will score by the full group in each round – no danger of “getting the low scoring judge” here! You’ll get your feedback about halfway through the judging period, and the winners will be announced just before the New Year.
Here are a few other things you can expect:
- Unique, anthology-style prompts.
- Personalized feedback on every entry from professional editors and writers.
- Guaranteed minimum cash prizes: $150 for first place, $100 for second, and $50 for third. And that goes up the more people register!
- A wonderful and supportive community of writers!
Super Challenge? What’s that?
All of the editors at YeahWrite are writers too. That’s why when we sat down and started brainstorming ideas for how to run a writing competition that we’d want to pay to enter we ended up with three bullet points: cash prizes, great feedback, and getting that great feedback in time to learn from it.
Every writer in our Super Challenge gets substantive feedback on their story from every judge who reads their work. This means that nobody walks away with nothing. We know nothing’s worse as a writer than a blank rejection, a “your work didn’t make the cut” with no idea why.
As much as we do love feedback, we also love cash prizes. And writers. We love writers. So what better way to combine the two than to say more writers means more money? Once registration closes and we count up the entry fees, we split the pot: half of the fees we receive go directly into the prize pot.
What are you waiting for? Check out our prompts, schedule, and more at Super Challenge #18!
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.
