Today is the last day to enter my More Deaths Than One contest. (Entries must be received by midnight tonight EST.)
The premise:
A friend of mine found an obituary in the paper that could have been for his mother — the woman had the same name, lived in the same general area, was the same age, had the same number of children, and one of the children had approximately the same name and age as the friend. There was no relationship, merely coincidence but, joking, I said, “What if her son really is you?” That “what if” eventually became More Deaths Than One.
The contest:
Write at least a paragraph and no more than a page, telling how would you develop a story using this scenario. The three most imaginative entries will be posted on the Second Wind site for readers to vote on. The top entry will win an autographed copy of More Deaths Than One and your choice of two other books from Second Wind Publishing. You can find the entry form at: Second Wind Publishing.
We’ve already received some really great entries, including this one:
I would not develop the story. I am a reader, not a writer. I read and analyze books, not write them. Quite frankly, I am much more interested in seeing how the author Pat Bertram develops the story rather than how I would. How does she make the coincidence believable? How does she maintain the level of suspense throughout the novel? How does the story differ from other books written in the genre? How is the book innovative? How does the story adhere to more traditional conventions of the genre? It is often said that those who can’t write, teach. On the contrary, writing and analysis (and teaching) are completely different skills, each worthwhile in its own right. I am not a writer. Rather, I am a reader who enjoys reading other authors’ books and using my imagination and analytical skills to review and share books with other readers.
It won’t be long until you can answer those questions yourself.
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Bertram's Blog 
February 16, 2009 at 4:49 pm
Thanks for the reminder Pat. I’ve just entered.
February 16, 2009 at 4:57 pm
Trying really hard to find a witty response to the question “What if her son really is you?”, Hancock filtered through the deepest crevices of his brain looking for an answer. With a sharpness in his voice that surprised everyone, he said “When I was young I created an imaginary friend, he grew into an alter-ego, in some ways just like me, but one that I could not control. He (or I ) took on another life, all on its own, a magnificent creation dwelling in another dimension just a breath away. Now, dammit, thanks to her dying, all hell is going to break loose. We cannot survive in the same dimension.” Then Hancock dropped his head, almost as if in a reverant attitude, he signed and then quizzically looked around as a small child would. All of the signs of a victim. But of what? Hancock and Pat Bertram had been friends since the third grade of elementary school. Nothing had ever happened to him. He had never been abused, abducted, or neglected. Pat would have known. Looking dead-on at Pat in a no-nonsense gaze, Hancock lifted his chin and said in a cocky tone “Now, Pat Bertram, how do you know that I am not the ‘other’ Hancock? Perhaps I crossed over and your Hancock is sitting at the funeral parlor passing the mourning of our Mother”. Harshly and loudly spoken the two words hung in the air, lingering… “our Mother”.
February 16, 2009 at 7:17 pm
Pat,
This is a fabulous contest idea. I’m so disappointed I haven’t had time to participate! I can’t wait to see your other results.
Take care!
~Saoirse