Mom, author, nurse, teacher . . . reading the world around me

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Holiday Contest 2024

Thanks to the wonderful Susanna Leonard Hill, kidlit writers have fun holiday contests to enter throughout the year. A huge shout out to her, the other judges and all of the wonderful prize donors.

Here is my entry for this year. The stipulations for 2024’s contest were for the story to be a mystery with a max word count of 25o.

The Night Santa Went Missing

232 words

On Christmas Eve, NORAD’s radars steadily tracked Santa. BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.

Shortly before midnight, something went terribly wrong. POOF!

Santa’s blinking dot disappeared from their screens.“We’ve lost him,” Major Smith reported.

“Impossible!” shouted Colonel Brown. “We’re the North American Aerospace Defense Command. We’ve never lost Santa Claus!”

They ran diagnostics, double-checked satellites, and consulted weather reports.

Everyone panicked, imagining scores of devastated children waking up to no presents. But nothing they tried worked. Santa had simply vanished.

At midnight, Colonel Brown said miserably, “We’ll have to notify the president.”

President Shah’s voice was filled with alarm. “What a disaster. Christmas is ruined. I’ll let the real boss know.”

At the North Pole, Mrs. Claus received the news. “Ma’am, we’ve lost Santa.”

“I’m pretty sure I have the answer to this mystery,” she replied. “Give me a moment.”

She sighed and called her husband. “Okay, you win the bet. You evaded NORAD. Have all the cookies you want.”

Out rang a jolly, “Ho, ho, ho!”

“Don’t ho, ho, ho me, mister. You’ve panicked the entire world. Stop cloaking your sled. I won’t put you on that New Year’s diet.”

Moments later, a soft BEEP, BEEP, BEEP broke the silence of the control room at NORAD. When Santa’s dot reappeared on Major Smith’s screen, cheers erupted.

In the night sky, Santa slipped his cell phone back into his pocket and patted his belly.

    “Halloweensie” 2024

    I look forward to this contest every year. A huge shout out to Susanna Leonard Hill, who puts this together. Read more about her and the contest here.

    This year, I couldn’t decide between writing something in rhyme or not, so I have two entries! It’s allowed, so I thought I’d give it a shot.

    Without further ado, here are my two entries, beginning with the rhyming one:

    The Haunted House Dare (95 words)

    by Melissa Miles

    On Halloween night, we brace for the chill,

    our black capes trailing as we climb the hill.

    The house up on top is known for its scares,

    but my brother Jack accepts ALL the dares.

    Up the front staircase, we tiptoe and creep,

    knowing we cannot risk making a peep.

    Jack raises a hand, he’s ready to knock—

    “Oh no, what’s that?” It’s the click of a lock!”

    The door swings open, we’re caught unaware!

    There’s a huge green goblin hovering there.

    He dances a jig, and flashes a grin,

    “Hooray, I have trick-or-treaters again!”

    The Glamorous Little Goblin (99 words)

    by Melissa Miles

    It’s time for the big Halloween Bash!

    Gloria Goblin dances before the mirror.

    She twirls on tiptoe,

    She boogies, jives, jitter-bugs, and waltzes.

    Gloria gazes at her reflection.

    I’m glamorous.

    I’m marvelous.

    My costume rocks.

    She sets out into the night chill.

    Some kids shout “Grotesque!”  

    “Look at those pointy ears.”

    “Monstrous!”

    “You’ve got fangs instead of teeth.”

    Gloria skips by, thinking, Imagine mixing up glamorous with grotesque! How silly.

    At the festival, Gloria wins the prize for Best Mask.

    She clutches her trophy with pride.

    I won for best mask without even needing one!

    I’m glamorous AND marvelous.

    Valentiny Writing Contest

    **Update: My entry received an honorable mention prize. Thanks for reading!

    I’m entering the “Valentiny” contest sponsored by Susanna Leonard Hill. Check out all the details here.

    This story was inspired by my sister, who had development delays related to extreme prematurity, back before there were neonatal ICUs and specialized care for preemies. My mom would let her stay home from school on Valentine’s Day because it was so heartbreaking for her to go to school and watch the other kids get valentine’s cards and she didn’t get them. 🙁

    A VALENTINE FOR VINCENT

    210 Words

    Vincent usually kept to himself during school.

    And the other kids kept themselves from Vincent.

    Valentine’s Day was the worst!

    His heart drowned in dread.

    Vincent buried his nose in a book,

    pretending not to care as his classmates filed in

    with decorated shoeboxes—

    for ALL the Valentines they’d receive.

    He wasn’t expecting a single one.

    Until something amazing happened…

    Caroline held out a red heart

    with VINCENT written in marker.

    A Valentine! For him?

    Heart racing, Vincent began excitedly cutting paper into squares.

    Hands flying, he folded one into a crane.

    “Wow!” said Caroline. “Can you make a cat?”

    A tsunami of enthusiasm washed the dread from his heart.

    He folded. Then turned and folded again.

    He repeated the process, until… 

    The paper square magically became a pointy cat.

    Caroline beamed. “It’s beautiful!”

    Soon, a crowd gathered with requests:

    “A swan?”

    “An owl?”

    “How about a heart?”

    “Can you make a star?”

    “Where did you learn this?” Ms. Waltz asked.

    Vincent explained that his neighbor, Mr. Nakamura,

    taught him origami after school on days his mom had to work.

    “It’s so cool!” Caroline said. “Thanks for my Valentine.”

    Vincent’s heart burst into an excitement explosion.

    It was the best school day ever.

    And it all started with one Valentine.

    Kid’s Choice Kidlit Writing Contest

    This is my second year entering this contest. Last year, I was a finalist in the YA category, and this year I’m entering in MG. Thanks for stopping by to read my entry.

    Carina of the Southern Sky (500 words)

    I’m the one who called 911. Mama is gone because of me.

    Something that awful should become etched in my brain forever. Every single detail. But it’s not. Big chunks of that night are missing.

    I see bits and pieces: Flashing blue lights, the beam of bright yellow shining across the wet grass, Mama staring at me from the back of a police car.

    What I remember most is showing up in the middle of the night at my foster parents’ house. Andy and Jodie waited on their porch for me. Before I’d gotten half-way up the steps, Jodie wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and said, “You’re safe here with us, Carina.”

    It was still summer break the night I showed up here. But now, with tomorrow being the first day of school, Jodie starts talking about it before we even finish dinner.

    We’re still sitting at the crowded kitchen table, but my mind drifts. The truth is, I don’t care about my schedule, the teachers, or the stupid team mascot. It isn’t my school, with my friends. Most important, Mama won’t be here for my first day of middle school like she always promised.

    “Excuse me,” I blurt.

    My chair scrapes the floor as I leap up.

    “Carina,” Jodie calls.

    As the screen door slams behind me, I hear Andy say, “Give her a minute.”

    Without looking back, I sprint beyond the shrubs and concrete path. Dropping onto the lawn, I search the darkening sky. Millions of stars twinkle through drifting clouds. “Hey up there,” I say. “I’m drifting too.”

    Tears spill down my cheeks remembering the nights Mama and I gazed up, trying to be the first to holler, “There she is! Carina of the Southern sky!”

    The door creaks open on the porch behind me. “Carina, it’s getting late. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

    I don’t move. I need something familiar to calm me—something from home.

    “Did you hear me?”

    I roll onto my belly to see Jodie squinting at me in the semi-darkness of the porch light, biting her lower lip.

    “I’m looking for my star. The one I was named for.”

    Jodie tilts her head to the side. “I guess it’s alright. But just for a few more minutes. There’s no need in you being all tuckered out for your first day tomorrow.”

    Spanish Moss flutters like ghosts in the darkness. But I look beyond it, refusing to be afraid.

    “My Carina” finally appears from behind a cloud. You can’t see the real Carina from North America, it’s only the North Star.

    But none of that matters anymore. What matters is the little balloon of hope that inflates at the thought of us both looking at the same star like we used to.

    I make a promise into the flickering night sky. “I’m going to find a way to bring you back home, Mama. I swear it.”

    And I will. It’s my fault she’s gone, and it’s up to me to fix it.

    Halloweensie 2023

    If you’ve followed my blog for awhile, you know I love kidlit writing contests.

    This year’s Halloweensie contest has the following guidelines. Tell a kid-friendly Halloween story using some form of the words, werewolf, superstition and fright–in a hundred words or less.

    Here’s my entry:

    Luna, the Not so Scary Werewolf
    by Melissa Miles
    100 words

    For the first time in Luna’s life,
    Halloween hosts a full moon.
    Tonight, her teeth and claws are sharp.
    She’ll HOWL, GROWL, and PROWL—
    her frightening werewolf self.
    No more “how cute!” on Halloween.
    Tonight, she’ll terrify.
    Luna sets out trick-or-treating.
    But everyone still thinks she’s CUTE!
    Luna sobs.
    “What’s wrong?” Katy Kitten asks, her black fur reflecting the moon.
    “I’m not scary.”
    “Follow me,” says Katy.
    DING-DONG.
    A door opens. CREEEAAAAAKKKK.
    Then… AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
    SLAM!
    Luna is thrilled.
    She’s terrifying!
    Katy will never tell Luna they’d visited the most superstitious house in town.
    Where they’re deathly afraid of black cats.

    Kidlit Vibes 2023

    I decided to enter the #KidLitVibes Twitter contest this year. Thanks to the great folks who organize this contest.

    The rules state you have to spin the wheel and write a story about the feeling you land on using just 125 words. My arrow stopped on Powerful. Sigh. I almost spun again. Sadly, I couldn’t really think of a time in my childhood I felt powerful.

    But this idea of a little girl helping her scared puppy instead of letting fear overwhelm her popped into my head. So, here goes…

    Photo by Vlad Panov on Unsplash

    THE STORM

    125 words

    Rain falls. Pitter-pat. Pitter-pat.

    Puddles form. Splat! Splat!

    Rumble. Crack!

    Lucy jumps.

    POP. Power’s out.

    The room plunges into darkness.

    The puppy shivers. Lucy’s lip quivers.

    Mommy shines a flashlight. She makes shadow bunnies dance on the wall.

    Lucy laughs.

    Until…

    Crack! The windows rattle.

    Her laugh sticks in her throat.

    Each BOOM from outside

    vibrates in her chest.

    Lucy hugs her puppy.

    His shivers have become shakes.

    The poor little guy is scared to death.

    “We’ll build a fort,” she tells him.

    It’s cozy inside.

    The lightning flashes dim.

    The thunder claps quieten.

    “There,” she says.

    “It will be okay.”

    His body stills.

    The storm moves past.

    “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

    He licks her hand.

    Tail wagging.

    Crawling out,

    she stands tall.

    Powerful.

    Update: I received an honorable mention for this entry. Thanks to the organizers!

    Spring Fling Kidlit Contest ’23

    This is at least my third year entering this great writing contest. Some years I’ve won a prize, some not. But it’s always fun to participate! If you’re new to Spring Fling, it’s a fabulous writing contest where you find (or create) a springtime GIF and then write a 150 (max) word story inspired by the image.

    For all the rules/details, click here. The community engagement for this contest is great. If you write a story, be sure to read other entries and comment on those as well. Meet new writing friends and make new social media connections. That’s the best part of the contest. Thanks to Kaitlyn Sanchez and Ciara O’Neil for putting this together!

    Thanks for stopping by to read my entry this year!

    The Magic of Shared Memories

    (147 words)

    “Why so blue on this beautiful spring day?” Grandma asks.

    “Keisha is moving today.”

    Grandma squeezes my hand. “Let’s go find some perfect crafting paper.”

    Grandma and I love origami. Magic happens in folding paper to create something new.

    Deep in the clearance bin something rustles.

    Sweeping away the top layer reveals beautiful blue paper with springtime flowers. “Grandma, look. It’s perfect.”

    Back home, my sadness seeps into each fold—sealing special memories into every crease. I only wish I’d made the butterfly in time to give it to Keisha.

    Later when I walk Grandma out, something flutters against my hand. I open it, and my butterfly takes flight!

    We gasp, watching until it disappears in the direction of Keisha’s house.

    Grandma winks. Like she’s known all along.

    I picture my butterfly settling into Keisha’s outstretched palm—all the words I hadn’t said soaring into her heart.

    GIF from website GIFER.com

    Children of the Bog

    I’ve come to love holiday writing contests. This is my entry to Susanna Leonard Hill’s wonderful Halloweensie writing contest.

    The rules require you to write a Halloween story with kid appeal with a max of 100 words–including some variation of the words treat, slither, and scare.

    Children of the Bog

    (100 words)

    Halloween night,

    adults of Reaper’s Bog

    beseech their children

    to stay close for trick-or-treating.

    For every Hallows-Eve, a lone child

    is swallowed up by the bog,

    and the terrifying creatures within.

    Do they slither, scamper, or snatch?

    Growl, grimace, or gnaw?

    No child’s ever returned to tell.

    Betsy Braveheart isn’t scared.

    Stuffing her princess costume

    behind a tree, she pulls a slingshot

    from her pocket,

    creeps to swamp’s edge…

    and waits.

    At dawn, only her costume’s recovered.

    She’s joined the bog children.

    Sadly…

    Betsy’s scribbled note,

    roughly jammed into a gnarled tree’s hole,

    goes unnoticed.

    “They were human once too!”

    2022 Spring Fling Kidlit Contest Entry

    GIF from Giphy.com

    I‘ve decided to join in and write a 150-word story for kids inspired by a GIF. To find out more about this contest and its generous creators and prize donors, click here. The above GIF inspired me to write about the Sakura, or cherry blossoms. When we visited Japan, we learned these blossoms are symbolic of beauty, mortality and renewal. Those themes inspired my story, which I hope embodies them all. Okay, without further ado, here is my 2022 entry which comes in at 147 words:

    Sakura Snowfall

    Last spring, our bench became a magic portal.

    “Under this canopy of cherry blossoms, we could be anywhere in the world,” Grandma said. “Tokyo, Paris, Portland, or Washington, D.C.–“

    “Can we visit Tokyo?” I blurted.

    She laughed and plucked a pink blossom from my hair. “Squeeze my hand, and we’ll go together.”

    I did.

    “We’re in the East Gardens of the Imperial Palace. Straight ahead is Edo Castle, built over 500 years ago. Cherry blossoms, or Sakura, dot the water’s edge.”

    As she’d painted pictures with her words, springtime Tokyo unfolded before my eyes.

    From our bench, we visited ten cities before the last blossom had fallen.

    Today, as I approach the empty bench, my heart explodes with memories of Grandma.

    I snuggle my puppy Sakura who sneezes as a drifting blossom tickles her nose.

    I laugh, and whisper in her tiny ear, “Where should we go first?”

    The Show Must Go On

    I decided to enter Vivian Kirkfield’s 50 Precious Words contest this year. Read all the details here: https://viviankirkfield.com/2022/03/04/50preciouswords-2022-official-contest-post/#more-25735

    Please find my story below, coming in at exactly 50 words! Hope you enjoy it.

    The Show Must Go On

    Two minutes till showtime.

    I peek through the curtain. Again.

    Still…

    Her empty seat glares back at me.

    Rows full of faces.

    Moms, dads, aunts…so many others.

    Just not my person.

    Lights dim.

    Mom hurries in. Dressed in her work scrubs.

    The crescendo of the orchestra perfectly matches my heart.

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