Unbagging the Cats 1

Unbagging the Cats 1

Monday, April 9, 2012

A Terminal Date, by Any Other Name...

Deadlines are looming, people. DEADLINES!

I'm juggling end-of-the-school-year deadlines, testing deadlines, personal check reorder deadlines, and income tax deadlines. But the good news is, "Taxes are done, Man!" To paraphrase Kenny in Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead. So that's one item to cross off my list.

But another deadline looms on the horizon. The 81st Annual Writer's Digest Writing Competition deadline! The Early Bird Deadline is May 1, 2012. After that, the $25 fee will be an extra $5 per entry until the absolute deadline of May 15, 2012.

There are 10 categories for your writing pleasure:
  • Inspirational Writing (Spiritual/Religious)
  • Memoirs/Personal Essay
  • Magazine Feature Article
  • Genre Short Story (Mystery, Romance, etc.)
  • Mainstream/Literary Short Story
  • Rhyming Poetry
  • Non-rhyming Poetry
  • Stage Play
  • Television/Movie Script
  • Children’s/Young Adult Fiction
And of course there are prizes:

Grand Prize
  • individual attention from 4 editors or agents
  • a trip to the Writer’s Digest Conference in New York City
  • $3,000 cash
First Place: $1,000 cash and $100 off WD Shop purchase
Second Place: $500 cash and $100 off WD Shop purchase
Third Place: $250 cash and $100 off WD Shop purchase
Fourth Place: $100 cash and $50 off WD Shop purchase
Fifth Place: $50 cash and $50 off WD Shop purchase
Sixth through Tenth Place: $25 cash

I've got to whip something into shape. I can't just rest on my laurels from last year. You remember last year, don't you? When I won 89th Place in the memoir category? Surely you have not forgotten. I'm certain I told you about it. Like here. And here. And here.

My current aspirations include ramping my writing up a notch and snagging 88th place. Just think, if all goes as planned...in only 87 years, I'll be WINNING this category!!! I need to make sure those long horns are well-oiled so they will be in shape to blare more huzzahs from the rooftops.

If you are a contest-enterin' fool, sit your butt in a chair and commence to writin'! Don't put it off until two days before the deadline. That there kind of procrastinatin' can land you in 89th Place. But that's okay. I'm done with 89th Place. It's open.

Can you estimate how many times I used the word deadline in this post? C'mon. Give it a try. It's not so colorful as guessing the number of gumballs in a Mason jar. And there's no prize. It's not like I can award you a jar full of deadlines, now is it? The answer will be in the comments when I reply tomorrow. No fair counting, OCD crew. That's not an estimation. You can't trick me. I used to dabble in math.


Sioux said...

If you win 88th place this year, I will even play my kazoo for you. (I'm quite the virtuoso with that little tin music-maker.)

Linda O'Connell said...

Hmmm, now what can I do to earn twenty-five bucks for an entry fee? I hope you move up in the ranks :)

Stephen Hayes said...

Best of luck this year. 89th place! I've never come that close to winning anything.

Tammy said...

That's worth the price of admission just to know your rank. Best of luck!

Kathy's Klothesline said...

Deadlines ... I am familiar with those!
Good luck to you as you will no doubt rise in the ranks of writers extraodinaire!

Val said...

I expect your kazoo-playing to be accompanied by your feet marching down a parade route in broke-down Crocs, and your freshly-school-bathroom-shampooed hair to be wrapped in a raggy headband like that fifer in the Spirit of 76 painting (perhaps from an injury incurred during shampooing). I mean you. Not the fifer. Because I'm not sure when his last shampoo might have been, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't in the women's faculty bathroom sink.

It's so nice of you to offer to organize and lead a parade for me upon my impending 88th-place finish. Maybe you could also wear your T-shirt that says, "Will Write for Food." Not that I'm demanding or anything.

I'm sure you could "persuade" your cute-as-a-button little granddaughter to churn out more paid, published pieces while you write some on your own. That should give you a monetary cushion to squander on contests. Thanks to Sioux, we're all in on your child labor scam!

I won a $25 cardboard certificate! Which my mailman folded to fit into our aluminum-bat-proof metal-pipe mailbox.

I was pleasantly surprised. I learned of it in a most indisposed moment. Perhaps I can cook up a Chicken Soup story out of that situation.

I hope it's not your bathroom-remodel deadline of which you speak. Because that's kind of how I approach deadlines myself, unless they're for my job.

Thanks for your vote of confidence. Your wind beneath my wings should sail me right on up to 88th place!