Thanks to our Guest Judge:

Literary Agent Hannah Andrade

WOW was honored to have guest judge literary agent Hannah Andrade choose this season’s top winners. Thank you, Hannah, for sharing your time and efforts to make these contestants’ dreams come true!

Hannah’s bio:

Hannah Andrade (she/her) started as an agency assistant before moving on to acquire her own clients. She’s been with Bradford Literary Agency since 2017 and has had the privilege to work with a number of bestselling authors across a variety of genres. She likes to think of herself as an editorial-focused agent and is particularly eager to acquire BIPOC/underrepresented voices. She is prioritizing stories of joy where identity isn’t the focus and is especially excited about stories rooted in history, mythology, and legends, particularly those that are lesser-known or underrepresented in traditional publishing.

Hannah is very interested in stories that explore the intricacies of multicultural identities. She loves stories of immigration (not relegated to America) and of first/second generation Americans who struggle balancing the values of their country with the culture and heritage of their parents (as in the TV shows Ramy or Gentefied). As a Mexican-American, she would particularly love to see the stories that she grew up with showcased in new and creative ways.

Hannah’s page at Bradford Literary Agency: bradfordlit.com/hannah-andrade-agent/

Follow her on Twitter: @hhandrade93

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We want to thank each and every one of you for sharing your wonderful stories with our guest judges this season. We know it takes a lot to hit the send button! While we’d love to give every contestant a prize, just for your writing efforts, that wouldn’t be much of a competition. One of the hardest things we do after a contest ends is to confirm that someone didn’t place in the winners’ circle. But, believe it when we say that every one of you is a true winner for participating.

To recap our current process, we have a roundtable of 12+ judges who blindly score equally formatted submissions based on: Subject, Content, Technical, and Overall Impression (Style). That’s the first step of the process. If a contestant scores well on the first round, they receive an e-mail notification that she passed the initial judging phase. The second round judging averages out scores and narrows down the top entries. From this point, our guest judge helps to determine the First, Second, and Third Place Winners, followed by the Runners Up.

As with any contest, judging so many talented writers is not a simple process. With blind judging, all contestants start from the same point, no matter the skill level, experience, or writing credentials. It’s the writer’s story and voice that shines through, along with the originality, powerful and clear writing, and the writer’s heart.

We’ve enjoyed reading your stories, each and every one of them. Thank you for sharing your work with us. We hope that you continue writing and submitting so we can watch you grow as writers and storytellers, because each season is a rebirth of opportunity.

Leslie’s Bio:

 

Printable View

 

House Specials at the Castaway Grill

By Leslie Fiering

 

Pre-dinner Cocktail

I want to order the restaurant’s famous Bloody Mary. It’s made with fresh pureed tomatoes, celery juice, lemon juice and grated horse radish.

His eyes open wide in shock and surprise. “Didn’t anyone tell you? I don’t drink. I’ve never touched a drop of alcohol in my life.” What follows is a lengthy explanation, bordering on too much information for a first date, about how his alcoholic father’s abusive behavior destroyed his family. My mother’s friend who set up the blind date failed to mention that.

“Of course, that shouldn’t stop you from ordering a drink. Don’t worry about me.”

We both order iced tea.

Appetizer

It’s hard to decide which appetizer to order. The crab croquettes with remoulade sauce on frisée lettuce sound wonderful. The bacon wrapped scallops are tempting. I go with the Wagu beef on the recommendation of a friend who lives midtown and eats here often.

My date doesn’t order anything but looks at me balefully until finally admitting he’s vegan and can’t eat anything that has eyes.

Of course, I feel guilty, no longer enjoying the appetizer. Still, I can’t resist asking him, “Then why are you wearing a leather belt and shoes?”

He responds without a trace of irony, “I work in finance and have to dress the part.”

Do scallops have eyes? Maybe I should have ordered them instead.

Entrée

The waiter recites the specials. Ribeye steak with roasted asparagus and potatoes au gratin; Dungeness crab served on a bed of wilted radicchio and watercress; or a NY Strip/lobster tail plate with roasted corn and tomato halves. I salivate a little more at the mention of each special when I notice the look of distress on my date’s face. Every entrée has eyes.

“What can you eat?” I ask.

“Maybe just a side of the asparagus and the corn.”

Unable to bear the thought of eating another course under my date’s baleful gaze, I cave and order a pasta dish. The waiter, realizing he’s not going to make his usual tip, hurries off.

My sacrifice is in vain.

“Don’t you know that wheat is terrible for you? Haven’t you noticed that bloated feeling and the brain fog you get after eating it?”

Screw it. In spite of the eyes, his or the cow’s, I decide to switch to the steak but the decision comes too late. The waiter is just stepping into the kitchen at the other side of the room.

Frustrated, I can’t help asking, “if you can’t eat anything on the menu, why did you choose this restaurant?”

“Oh, because it’s close to the office and I figured I could head back if things didn’t work out between us tonight.”

Dessert

“There’s a gluten-free lava cake on the dessert menu,” I point out to my date after both of our barely touched dinners have been taken from the table. Of course, he can’t eat it. The sugar would break his keto diet.

“How about the Bananas Foster? They’re flambé which means the alcohol will burn off.”

“No way I’d eat that. It’s a myth that you can completely cook off alcohol. There’s always an alcohol residual.”

I settle for a plate of strawberries, hold the whipped cream. I’m simply not ready for a lecture on lactose intolerance or the cruelty of the dairy industry. He asks for a refill on his iced tea.

While he leans back in his seat contentedly watching the other diners in the restaurant, I chew each bare strawberry on the plate with the same intensity an animal uses to gnaw its foot free of a trap.

After Dinner Coffee, Liqueur, Porto and Cognac Selection

When I finish the strawberries, the waiter returns to see if we’d like an after-dinner drink. He recommends the Castaway Grill latte with dark, sweet rum and dusted with Mexican chocolate—or maybe a taste of the 12-year-old Taylor’s port, which is drinking particularly well now. My date lets it be known that he might like to stay for a cup of coffee, but only if it’s fresh ground—and free trade, of course.

Not daring to waste the opportunity for a hasty retreat, I decline with a mumbled excuse of early AM work commitments. As we’re pulling on our coats, he looks into my eyes with a warm smile. “I had a wonderful time this evening. When would you like to get together and do it again?”

 

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What Leslie Won:

• $400.00 Cash Prize
• $25 Amazon Gift Card
• Publication of winning story on WOW-WomenOnWriting.com website
• Interview on WOW!’s blog The Muffin

Mira’s Bio:

Mira Fu-En Huang is a professional musician who likes to tell stories through singing as well as writing. When she is not dashing about for concerts or working her day-job in the nonprofit sector, Mira enjoys reading, writing, café-hopping, crafting, and collecting stuffed animals. She is currently working on a young adult coming-of-age novel (which may or may not ever see the light of day), and is honored to have her first publication under WoW. To learn more about Mira’s other work, please visit mirafuenhuang.com.

Printable View

 

That Place Beyond the Sky

By Mira Fu-En Huang

 

The lantern is conceived as a skeleton of bamboo bones, each curved and secured into place with reverent care. From that framework sprouts a skin, a quilt of paper patches fastened with fine layers of glue. Fins, eyes, and scales are painted upon the skin in brilliant red tones, and with the help of a candle and a holding rod, a glowing paper fish is born.

The fish greets its owner, a girl whose height only exceeds the dining table by a ponytail that bursts atop her head like a firecracker. She snatches the rod with giddy glee, and the fish learns to fly in the hands of a haphazard puppeteer. The mother dresses her in wide-legged pants and a Mandarin collared top, secured by buttons of knotted brocade.

For a while, the fish accompanies her everywhere, a glowing paper lollipop in an enamored child’s hands. She shows her prize to everyone: her neighbors, her teachers, her classmates. Her classmates use fingers to stretch their eyes into slanted slits and dash away, laughing.

The girl laughs, too, or at least she pretends to. She hides the fish in her closet with the pants and the Mandarin collared top. More items join the disheveled pile: a crumpled red envelope, house slippers, a pendant in the shape of a Chinese character. Dust wraps hundreds of minute gray fingers around them.

A gap in the closet door allows sunlight to bleach the fish’s eye. Though blinded, the fish still watches. The girl slinks her way to middle school, hiding from a mother whose heavy accent embarrasses her in front of her friends. The girl patters into high school, an awkward combination of ripped jeans, bleached hair, and angry pimples. More items are added to the dusty closet’s grave: a CD of music, a picture book, a pair of jade earrings.

The girl’s departure barely affects the little fish. The closet gains space as she shoves clothing into moving boxes, only to be refilled with drafts of stifling air. Once a month, the mother opens the closet doors, allowing the fish a small reprise. Suns and moons dance an unending ballet to the accompaniment of a buzzing news channel and a mother chopping vegetables downstairs.

The music stops. The house grows dark and quiet. Dust chokes the fish’s scales as pallid air presses down like a cloak. And then, the door opens.

The girl is older now. Gone is the bleached hair, and she wears a simple black top and pants. She pulls the Mandarin collared shirt from its forgotten vault and sneezes when she shakes it clean. Embroidered bamboo, faded yet proud, blazes against red polyester as she holds the piece up to herself.

It’s too small, and she cries.

She folds the shirt and pulls the other items out, one by one. The red envelope contains a crumpled ten-dollar bill and a note with the symbol for prosperity. The picture book tells the story of red slippers and a Chinese New Year.

The fish is retrieved with hesitant care. The weight of its comrades has snapped bones and torn delicate skin. She carries it to a table and opens her laptop. The Google searches “Chinese paper lantern” and “How to fix a paper lantern” reflect against the fish’s unseeing eye.

In the end, she doesn’t fix it—she is afraid to. New searches like “Paper lantern festival” and “Chinese sky lantern” spit out the words “history,” “culture,” and “wish.” She retrieves strips of bamboo and curves them into a new form, doggedly trying and retrying as the wood buckles and snaps in her inexperienced hands.

When complete, the new lantern is clumsy and misshapen but functional. She carries it outside on a chilly February night. Unlit but nestled in the crook of the woman’s arm, the fish watches her light the base of her creation.

The wavering speck of light floats lazily from the woman’s hands, up into a cloudy night. As the lantern rotates on a gentle breeze, the fish sees words on its side:

I wish you happiness
in that place beyond the sky

They watch, fish and girl, as the lantern meanders upward. For a moment, they are young again, young and happy and proud. But it’s a fleeting moment, and alone, they go back inside.

 

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What Mira Won:

• $300.00 Cash Prize
• $25 Amazon Gift Card
• Publication of winning story on WOW-WomenOnWriting.com website
• Interview on WOW!’s blog The Muffin

Amanda’s Bio:

RUNNERS UP (In no particular order):