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

Tag: Kidlit

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!

Trapped

I decided to throw my hat into the ring this year for the second annual Kids’ Choice Kidlit Writing Contest. I’d heard about it last year and it sounded like a ton of fun to have your 200 words judged by actual kids. Thanks to author Kailei Pew for putting this together, and special thanks to all the kids taking their time to read and judge the entries!

My entry is a scene from one of my YA manuscripts. I hope you enjoy it!

UPDATE** My entry made it to the finals, and ended up in second place overall for YA this year!

TRAPPED

200 Words

Nothing in life prepared me to attend my own funeral. Walking around knowing I’m dead is freakish enough. Walking through crowds of people talking about me in past tense is insane.

Over half the school is here—definitely most of the senior class. The drama queens are giving performances worthy of reality television. It’s equal parts irritating and hilarious watching them bawling like we’d been best friends.

If Raven dabs her eyes with that tissue one more time, I’ll—

Do what, exactly? Exactly nothing, that’s what.

Since nobody can see or hear me, I’m left just watching. It sucks.

I see Mom. Her face is so blotchy and swollen, I barely recognize her. She doesn’t even resemble the mom I hugged before school three days ago.

That night at the hospital, Mom begged me not to die. Begged me to stay here. For her.

Her screaming felt more agonizing than the broken ribs.

Somehow, I’d stayed.

Now I’m trapped—but desperate to escape.

Then I see Luca watching me from across the room.

His lips form my name.

Our eyes lock. Hope balloons in my chest.

If Luca can see me, maybe he’ll know how to help me cross over.

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?”

Fall Writing Frenzy 2020

Photo Courtesy of Unsplash

I decided to throw my hat into the ring for the wonderful Fall Writing Frenzy Contest again this year. For those who don’t know, you pick an image and write a story for kids in 200 words or less. Mine is sad, but it’s the one that poured out of my beleaguered 2020 soul.

I hope it speaks to you in some way. Thanks for stopping by, and thanks to the amazing Kaitlyn Sanchez and Lydia Lukidis for sponsoring this contest. And a huge thanks to all the donors!

Image 10
Mom’s Last Wish
2020 Fall Writing Frenzy
199 Words

“I want to see the leaves change color one last time,” Mom said in July when we heard her cancer was back—and worse than ever.

I swallowed hard, but couldn’t form words.

Dad walked over and took Mom’s hand. “We’ll make it happen. I promise.”

So we took Mom home, and kept her room filled with flowers, music, art—and as much laughter as we could manage. For me, laughter was the hardest part.

One early morning in October, Dad gently shook me awake. “Let’s give Mom her wish.”

A red convertible glowed against the sunrise.

I gawked, and Mom smiled. Dad said, “I figure we should do this right.”

As the morning fog burned off the highway, Mom looked between us. “It’s beautiful. This will go in our favorite memories album. Whenever we feel sad, we can flip to this day.”

I closed my eyes, memorizing the wind on my face, and the smell of damp air. But what if I can’t remember everything?

At the slightest touch against my arm, I opened my eyes.

A lone leaf—swirled yellow and orange, had dropped from above.

A tangible keepsake of Mom’s last wish.

Now, I’ll never forget.

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