Camus can do, can you?
Hey, y’all — grab your peacock-plumed keyboards, polish up your virtual inkwells, and unleash your mini-Kerouac because we’ve got a little competition for you to take part in. Wanna win a nifty gift certificate to Books, Inc?
All you have to do is submit a little story — fiction, nonfiction, or poetry — that somehow reflects living in the Bay Area to culture@sfbg.com by Tuesday, September 22. (Put “Lit123” in the subject line, and please include your name or nom de plume and city.)
The catch? All entries must be exactly 123 words. Easy as 123, right?
We’ll publish our 10 favorites in our special Writers Issue on 10/7, and give those authors gift certificates to Books, Inc. To help get you started, here’s a horrific little story by our always zombie-fightin’ arts and entertainment editor. Submit yours today!
Alone in his dilapidated Victorian, the hulking cannibal mutant arranged his weapons collection with pride. There was the chainsaw he’d refurbished after finding it abandoned on the 22; the hatchet and axes he’d inherited from his hulking cannibal mutant father; and the set of steak knives he’d ordered from QVC. He also had, strewn about his SoMa property, various bear traps, pits concealed with leaves, trip wires, and so forth. Earlier that day, he’d waddled out to the nearest road — pothole-strewn, dirt, the kind of route only a traveler lost mid-shortcut would take — and felled a large tree that blocked both lanes. It would only be a matter of time, he figured. He was ready. And man, was he ever hungry.