I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but I really don’t enjoy winter. In fact, this year as January dumps more and more snow, I feel my sunny disposition being clouded out by its chilly wrath. Please don’t try and suggest that maybe I am subconsciously dealing with all the big life changes going on around here, because we already have one psychologist in the family and I’m telling you—it’s the arctic temperature that’s getting to me! It is! It is! It is!
Anyway, in order to add some fun to all the frost, I am announcing the first ever WBWG Winter Angst Poetry Competition! With prizes and everything! And confetti! (OK, you’ll just have to imagine the confetti!)
Here are the rules:
1. Send your original poetry to tiffany{at}wouldbewritersguild{dot}com. It can be any form of poetry you like—long, short, rhyme-y, moody, whatever (but remember that I’m partial to funny).
2. Make sure your poetry is ridden with hatred for winter. I don’t want to read about cute snowmen. Or happy, furry woodland creatures. Or the beauty of moonlight on fresh fallen snow. Blecht.
3. Seriously, don’t try to put some positive spin on all this frigid air. I’m warning you.
4. If you are a native of Florida, California, Arizona, or Hawaii you are automatically disqualified. (Well, OK, you’re not disqualified but you probably have no chance at seriously competing. Especially against a Canadian.)
5. Entries must be received by 11:00 p.m. tomorrow (January 31) Mountain Time.
6. Winners will be announced Friday, February 1 and poems will be posted for your reading pleasure.
And now for the prizes(!):
First prize: One TWENTY-FIVE THOUSAND DOLLAR GIFT CARD TO TARGET! Wait—did I say “THOUSAND” right there? I meant “ORDINARY.”
Second prize: One TEN DOLLAR TARGET GIFT CARD!
Third prize: Three magnets from MY FRIDGE! Woot! Woot!
Honorable mention: One mention in the post. A really honorable one.
Fine print: Judging will be completely subjective and based on my own whims.
So, come one, come all! Tell your friends! Tell your family! Tell your bitter old Aunt Beulah! Give me your best January-can-stuff-it stuff! I’ll be waiting. Cold and shivering in the living room, but waiting…
