A while ago, Stephen Studach, who bought (never published!) two of my early stories and wrote me a letter which inspired me to continue to be a writer, set up a challenge to a group of writers.
All you prize guns, I’m a standin’ in the dusty main street with my six-shooters, one chamber empty, and I’m a callin’ you out!
The (Blastin’) Battersby’s, Lyn and Lee; Nathan (Barrage) Burrage; Jack (Dandy) Dann; Stephen (Doctor Deadshot) Dedman; Will (Eagle Eye) Elliott; Robert (Monster aka Hoodlum aka Bob) Hood; Rick (Killer) Kennett; Margo (Lash) Lanagan; Rosaleen (Loveless) Love; Brett (McDeath) McBean; Cameron (Doc) Rogers; (Lucky) Lucy Sussex; Kaaron (Whirlwind) Warren; Kim (Wildcat) Wilkins; Sean (The Kid) Williams.
Those hellions from the Big C are comin’ ta town.
Are we gunna let ‘em burn the whole place to the ground, or are you gunna step out?
All I’m askin’ is one shot from each of you, that’ll do it.
So, come on, don’t leave your shootin’ irons in boxes and drawers or hangin’ on hooks.
Signed: Stephen (No-nicknames-left-but-I’m-sure-you-can-think-of-one) Studach.
The Big C, of course, is Cancer, and all money raised goes to the Paul Haines fund. Money will be raised because once all the stories are written, people pay ten bucks to write the final chapter. Only one will be picked, obviously. Details are here.
My chapter is up, and you can read it here. I reckon you should start at number one and read your way through, because there’s a good little story cooking along!
This is the my first line:
There was a tear in her womb where the Junkie Stone had once sat, cold and hard and leaking junk juice like defrosting meat leaked blood.
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