For those of you who don't know, I recently released a collection of short stories on Kindle titled 8 Pounds: Eight Tales of Crime, Horror, and Suspense for the bargain-basement price of $0.99! In the week that it's been out, it's garnered some lovely reviews (like this one), and more than one report of insomnia, which is kinda cool. (Hey, some of it is horror, after all; I'm allowed to be proud of scaring the sleep outta people.) And if you don't have a Kindle, that's no problem at all - just follow the link, and you can download a free app for your computer or mobile device in seconds. What better way to celebrate the Halloween season than cheap, kick-ass creepy fiction?That covers the cheap; now let's talk about the free. Namely, a free copy (two, in fact!) of the gorgeous pulp smorgasbord that is Beat to a Pulp: Round One. How gorgeous, you ask? This gorgeous:
And lest you think this baby's all sizzle and no steak, let's talk about what's inside. How about damn near 400 pages chock full of the best crime, horror, fantasy, sci-fi, western, and pirate tales you'll ever read, penned by such talented folks as Sophie Littlefield, Charles Ardai, Robert J. Randisi, Hilary Davidson, James Reasoner, Edward A. Grainger, Frank Bill, Patti Abbott, Jed Ayres, and Kieran Shea. Oh yeah, and, um, me.So, whaddya gotta do to get one? Easy. I want you to tell me a story. A six-word story, to be exact. (No clue what I'm talking about? Click on over here and find out.) But not just any six-word story. A six-word pulp story.
Now, it doesn't have to be crime; like Beat to a Pulp themselves, this contest is all about celebrating the full breadth of pulp fiction. So use your imagination, and go to town.
Here's how it works: post your six-word story in the comments of this blog post (be sure to include a name if you're commenting without a Blogger account). Submissions will be open for ten days.
At the end of ten days, two winners will be picked. Winner Number One shall be chosen by none other than David Cranmer, editor-extraordinaire of Beat to a Pulp (which means not only does Winner Number One get a kick-ass anthology, he or she also gets some serious bragging rights.) Winner Number Two shall be selected by placing the names of the remaining entrants in a hat and letting luck take its course. (Originally, I'd written that the entrants themselves would be placed in the hat, which would've required one hell of an enormous hat. I'd also written that Lady Luck would have her way with them, but that sounded dirtier than intended. Why am I telling you this? I honestly have no idea.)
Once the winners are announced, they can each shoot me an e-mail with their addresses, and I will
So get crackin', and spread the word! I can't wait to see what y'all have in store for me...
80 comments:
They both reached for the gun.
(Damn, that's a lyric from CHICAGO, isn't it? Oh well. I still like it.)
It is hard to be easy.
Saturday nights, he pulls out knives.
(Already have a copy so on the off-chance I win, I will donate it).
Argument. Shots - whiskey, then lead. Taillights.
No more bullets.
Drive, she said.
"Spill it."
Smash.
"Spill."
"The dame."
Brass knuckles, broken teeth and lies.
They gun clicked empty.
the end
It began and ended with whiskey.
She tasted blood and kissed deeper.
I'm bleeding; dame's running. Fade out.
"Fifteen floored, pancaked glammer boy, Senator."
Like Patti...I'll donate. Library.
Nonchalantly, in slid the silver scissors.
Chris forgot, it was all a dream
"Glad it's you watching my baaaa...."
Library. Good idea.
I already have a copy so you can give it to some other worthy if you draw my name. But here is my entry anyway:
"He uses the book, to kill."
Okay, I hated the first version. Let me try this again...
Trapdoor drops, noose clenches, lights out!
Ra Ta Ta Ta Ta Tat!
Kiss
Kiss
Kiss
Bang
Bang
Bang
Gun’s jammed. Cops outside. I’m screwed.
The new moon was his accomplice.
Fantastic, all! Keep 'em coming! (As far as I'm concerned, multiple entries only count once as far as the hat goes, but who knows what might catch Mr. Cranmer's eye?)
Her ribs played like a xylophone
I'm really enjoying reading these. Keep 'em coming.
He swallowed hard then he died.
Gun at my crotch; tricked again.
Comanche Pass.
Ambush.
Cavalry,
too late.
"Holy fucking shit that hurt."
"Sorry."
How about some of the other types of pulp like
Boxing:
Sick mother. 15th round. Gonna make i...
or
Mid-fight. Won't fall. Fuck 'em.
Science-fiction:
Strange planet. No fuel. What the...
Sword & Sorcery:
Sacred sword in hand. World's fall.
Fuck, fight, kill. Fuck, fight, kill.
Time travel:
Sorry critter. Back home. Everything's changed?!
How about
Dumb thug tries story and can't count
:)
A handful:
"I thought you locked the door."
After months, he could walk again.
"I could pass for his wife."
"Phone."
"Who?"
"Carl."
"He's alive?"
"Surprise."
Gorilla suit. Sweaty fingers. Unsheathes stiletto.
This one courtesy of Dan O'Shea, who couldn't comment here for some reason:
Does club soda get out brains?
My mother laughed, watching me die.
I coughed. Locusts flew out mouth.
You learn fast junkies can't fly.
Hope drowns on blood-soaked street.
They kissed. He pulled the trigger.
Apparently he wasn't buried deep enough.
Everything went black; the pain stopped.
Gaffing floaters put Halloran off crabs.
-Sarge?
-WHAT?!
-Syphilis.
-No. Her?
-Her.
-Scram, honey.
-Who's he, mommy?
-Rent.
Kieran may have won with that rent one
I second that! Kieran did a hell of a number with that one. I had to share that one with the wife :)
"Rent." Jesus.
"Don't think he'll fit."
"Bigger suitcase?"
***
One handjob for another dirty needle.
***
"Cigarettes, government cheese. I'm all set."
***
Knife, tarp, shovel. She loves Wal-Mart.
***
One-way ticket should've tipped him off.
***
"A nailgun?"
He nods. "Left nut."
***
"Got a pistol?"
"Shotgun."
"You win."
***
Christ, this shit's harder than haiku.
hands clean; up against the machine
Building from the "baby shoes" one:
FOR SALE: Hemingway's shotgun. Used once.
I did these a while back.
http://pdbrazill.blogspot.com/p/pulp-metal-magazine.html
Black Mass.
No virgin.
Goatlord wept.
She shot once. Bastard. Shot again.
Bruised. Battered. Bitch bought a gun.
Sun-worn stranger saddles up. Rifle ready.
Beat until his liver was seethrough.
Whee! That's actually a line from one of my poems.
They dredged the lake. He's unconcerned.
Inconsistent powder burn. Suicide's Out. Murder.
The shoe drops. The gun bangs.
---
Sympathy is for suckers. And whores.
---
"He's not talking. Hit him harder."
Hot breath. Cold muzzle. Hot damn!
Whore's last words: Needs more cowbell.
"Don't touch that!" came too late.
River of blood, lake of regrets.
Give. Take. Steal. Capture. Kill.
Man, heavy on the hookers so far, huh? Where's the pirate tales? And don't tell me Brian's the only one thinking old-school sci-fi!
Seriously, though, I'm delighted by all the responses. And the fact there're a few Westerns mixed in is pretty cool.
Orphans flanked Monsignor and his flamethrower.
(pirate theme? arrgh.)
Hammerheads. Fickle fish. Always take forever.
The vultures didn't bother saying Grace.
Fisticuffs. Mystery. Murder. The game's afoot.
One a.m. A knock. Vavoom.
A royal flush. Bang. Splat.
Last words?
Fuck you asshole!
Bang.
Blood-soaked under harvest moon - Ava Gardner.
Bugger. Wrong competition.
"Pay up."
"Can't. But my wife ..."
I decided to play with the developing gender trend
"I'll kill her"
"So, she cheated"
"Whatever, Bieber rules." She needed killing.
For sale: thong. In good nick.
This isn't my first rodeo, ma'am
Which way is the plank matey?
“Princess...?”
...wheel-spin...
...Devil’s eyes fading...
Alone.
Naked.
Wounded.
Scared.
Who?
You.
A few more:
Steal from the rich. Keep it.
-This here's a stickup!
-Guess again.
Spike in vein.
Bliss.
Miles smiles.
Punch.
Dive.
Ten.
"OK, She lives."
Not the pool boy? Hello motive.
So many good ones. I feel sorry for the bastard who has to pick just one.
Yeah -- that poor bastard's got his work cut out for him...
Victim within range,
Jolly Roger raised.
Nice, Kathleen -- a pirate tale to close out the contest!
Okay, y'all, I'm closing it down. As of today, November 3rd, I'm taking no more entries. Tomorrow, I'll announce David's picks as well as the winner of the random drawing. Stay tuned, and good luck!
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