Write a story about Clark Barr (aka Young Master Newlin)
and Win the Drawing on the Right
Two Chances to Win!
The contest closes Monday December 13, 2010
 Clark Barr (aka Young Master Newlin) 10"x8" oil and mixed media on masonite |  |  |
Click on pictures to enlarge
The story you write should be a "Flash Fiction" which is a complete story in one thousand or fewer words. Please post the story in the comment section, you will have to provide your name and an email address in order to be qualified to win or you can e-mail me at kmencher@ohlone.edu with your info. There is a problem with how many characters can post (only about 4,000) so if you cannot post it. E-mail it to me at kmencher@ohlone.edu
Go to my website for more contests: http://www.kenney-mencher.com/
Winning flash fiction stories will be integrated in with an exhibit in San Francisco at ArtHaus Gallery (April 8th for the reception).
The show is called:
Renovated Reputations: Paintings and Fiction inspired by Vintage Portrait Photographs
The exhibit will include a series of 20-40 paintings and mixed media works ranging in size from 8”x10” to 18”x24” framed with thrift store and vintage frames. In addition to the exhibited works ArtHaus is publishing catalogs signed by me and as many of the authors as possible.
Catalogs/books will consist of image of the painting with the text of the “flash story” surrounding the image. If I can get the authors to come to a book signing/party, authors would sign their pages for some of the printed stuff.
We're going to have a photobooth for the show for participants to play with and vintage costumes.
Of course I'll send the authors free copies of the catalogs. I will announce the winners the day after the closing deadline for the competition. I'm planning on doing one flash fiction competition a week every Monday from now until April.
(If the conditions in the side bar are not to your liking, I'm totally flexible. Send me a contract that you like and I will mail it back to you. I just don't want to chase people for signatures when I publish the catalog!)
Go to my website for more contests: http://www.kenney-mencher.com/
Winning flash fiction stories will be integrated in with an exhibit in San Francisco at ArtHaus Gallery (April 8th for the reception).
The show is called:
Renovated Reputations: Paintings and Fiction inspired by Vintage Portrait Photographs
The exhibit will include a series of 20-40 paintings and mixed media works ranging in size from 8”x10” to 18”x24” framed with thrift store and vintage frames. In addition to the exhibited works ArtHaus is publishing catalogs signed by me and as many of the authors as possible.
Catalogs/books will consist of image of the painting with the text of the “flash story” surrounding the image. If I can get the authors to come to a book signing/party, authors would sign their pages for some of the printed stuff.
We're going to have a photobooth for the show for participants to play with and vintage costumes.
Of course I'll send the authors free copies of the catalogs. I will announce the winners the day after the closing deadline for the competition. I'm planning on doing one flash fiction competition a week every Monday from now until April.
(If the conditions in the side bar are not to your liking, I'm totally flexible. Send me a contract that you like and I will mail it back to you. I just don't want to chase people for signatures when I publish the catalog!)
- Go to my website for more contests: http://www.kenney-mencher.com/
______________________________________________________________
This was sent by email. It made me laugh out loud.
BARR NONE by Stephen D. Rogers
Of all the things I bought from comic books -- the sea monkeys,
the magic tricks, the exploding pens -- the most interesting item
I ever, ever received was the human head.
First off, as soon as I unrolled the bubble wrap, I discovered
the head was real. It wasn't plastic or rubber or painted cast
metal. It wasn't some piece of junk made up in the ad to look
cool. It was cool.
There I was, sitting in my boring room at my boring desk holding
an actual human head. I poked his cheek, and the skin turned
white.
His eyes opened. "What?"
"What what?"
"What do you want? You didn't just wake me up to stare at me,
did you?" He wrinkled his face to push his glasses back in
place. "If that's all you can think of to do, hurry up and get
it over with because I was having a really great dream and really
great dreams don't happen every day."
I rotated his head. "How are you talking?"
"Not so fast! Keep whipping my head around like that, and I'm
going to puke."
"How can you puke? You don't have a stomach." I slowly tipped
him to examine the flat area at the bottom of his neck.
"Believe me, you don't want to know. And you don't want me to
puke all over you, either. I puke blue."
"Blue?"
"Yeah, it's a color. Perhaps you've heard of it."
Exercising a self-control my mother said I didn't even have, I
returned to his earlier question. "So what did you mean, what do
I want? Can you, like, grant wishes or something?"
"What do you think, I'm just a talking head? You don't think I
have special powers?"
"So you can make my wishes come true?"
"That's the idea, Einstein."
Considering that I could spin his head until he puked, he was
pretty sarcastic. "The comic book didn't say anything about
granting wishes."
"You believe everything you read in a comic book?" He rolled his
eyes. "You must be some kind of moron. You probably have a
medal for 'Moron of the Year' mixed up on your shelf with all
those models."
"That's right. I'm so stupid I'm sending you back."
His eyes went wide. "No, wait! I think we got off on the wrong
foot, which is easy since I don't even have a foot. My name is
Clark."
"Yeah? My name is Return to Sender." I plopped Clark into the
shipping box, and he went silent as soon as the flaps closed.
That would give him a chance to think about his attitude while he
bounced around until he puked. Blue?
I taped the box, wrote "Cancel" above my mailing label, and ran
the package out to the mailbox.
Back in my room, I popped the bubble wrap, which took like an
hour and a half.
The second best thing I ever got from a comic book was the sample
pack of free postage stamps. I collected those things for years.
This was sent by email. It made me laugh out loud.
BARR NONE by Stephen D. Rogers
Of all the things I bought from comic books -- the sea monkeys,
the magic tricks, the exploding pens -- the most interesting item
I ever, ever received was the human head.
First off, as soon as I unrolled the bubble wrap, I discovered
the head was real. It wasn't plastic or rubber or painted cast
metal. It wasn't some piece of junk made up in the ad to look
cool. It was cool.
There I was, sitting in my boring room at my boring desk holding
an actual human head. I poked his cheek, and the skin turned
white.
His eyes opened. "What?"
"What what?"
"What do you want? You didn't just wake me up to stare at me,
did you?" He wrinkled his face to push his glasses back in
place. "If that's all you can think of to do, hurry up and get
it over with because I was having a really great dream and really
great dreams don't happen every day."
I rotated his head. "How are you talking?"
"Not so fast! Keep whipping my head around like that, and I'm
going to puke."
"How can you puke? You don't have a stomach." I slowly tipped
him to examine the flat area at the bottom of his neck.
"Believe me, you don't want to know. And you don't want me to
puke all over you, either. I puke blue."
"Blue?"
"Yeah, it's a color. Perhaps you've heard of it."
Exercising a self-control my mother said I didn't even have, I
returned to his earlier question. "So what did you mean, what do
I want? Can you, like, grant wishes or something?"
"What do you think, I'm just a talking head? You don't think I
have special powers?"
"So you can make my wishes come true?"
"That's the idea, Einstein."
Considering that I could spin his head until he puked, he was
pretty sarcastic. "The comic book didn't say anything about
granting wishes."
"You believe everything you read in a comic book?" He rolled his
eyes. "You must be some kind of moron. You probably have a
medal for 'Moron of the Year' mixed up on your shelf with all
those models."
"That's right. I'm so stupid I'm sending you back."
His eyes went wide. "No, wait! I think we got off on the wrong
foot, which is easy since I don't even have a foot. My name is
Clark."
"Yeah? My name is Return to Sender." I plopped Clark into the
shipping box, and he went silent as soon as the flaps closed.
That would give him a chance to think about his attitude while he
bounced around until he puked. Blue?
I taped the box, wrote "Cancel" above my mailing label, and ran
the package out to the mailbox.
Back in my room, I popped the bubble wrap, which took like an
hour and a half.
The second best thing I ever got from a comic book was the sample
pack of free postage stamps. I collected those things for years.
-The Day The Monsters Attacked-
ReplyDeleteby Brian Newlin
On the day the monsters attacked, young Newlin sat in his room.
They begged and pleaded and cried for help, he listened to their doom.
If only they had been nicer,
if only the girl had said yes,
if only they had bought him the raygun,
they wouldn't be stuck in this mess.
"Please help us, please save us! We're sorry for our wicked ways!"
Their voices called outside his door.
"Can't you give us one more chance?
We swear we'll appreciate you even more!"
On the day the monsters attacked, young Newlin picked up his raygun.
(He had kept it secret under his bed, he knew they'd never buy him one)
He shot the Boogeyman in the head
He returned the zombies to the dead
He stabbed those Draculas in their hearts
and defeated Cthulhu with martial arts.
The townspeople cheered, the pretty girl sighed,
"You're my hero! I'll be your bride!"
Young Newlin was happy and glad that he took
the chance to order the monsters from that weird comic book.
GAH! I realized afterwards that the character is named Clark, not Newlin. I am such an unbelievable egomaniac.
ReplyDeleteHe is named Newlin! AKA
ReplyDeleteAfter much hemming and hawing I have finally decided on Newlin's piece. I think mainly because it sounded like a poem a kid would write, however, I wish I had the space in my book to use both pieces. I love the whole 1950's "B" movie feel of Stephen Rogers' piece!
ReplyDelete