“The Midwife” by S.C. Jensen: NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge

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The results are in for round three of the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction challenge. After scoring first in round one and third in round two, I was feeling pretty confident about round three. I was a little nervous, because I knew competition would be stiff. But the assignment that I received was right up my alley with Genre: Thriller–Location: a radio tower–Object: ice skates. The piece I wrote was my favourite of the three, by far. It was the most “me.” I was totally in my element.

And guess what?

I didn’t even place in the top half of my group! That’s right. Not even an honourable mentions, when I was pretty sure that I had one of those coveted top four spots in the bag, haha.

We don’t get to read the other entries, but they did post the synopses of the top eight pieces for each group. I’m not entirely sure where I went wrong. Based on the synopses of the higher scoring pieces, I may have been slightly off genre. Or perhaps I didn’t do anything wrong, and the competition was just that much steeper in round three.

Either way, I still had a blast with this challenge. Now I get to enjoy a bit of a break before the NYC Short Story Challenge starts in January 2018. I thought I’d share my not-so-winning piece with you here, as I still quite like it. Let me know what you think! Where would you like to see me go with this character? What improvements would you make? (UPDATE: Judges feedback below the story!).

Here is the NYC Midnight’s genre definition for Thriller:

Thriller

A fast-paced, gripping, plot-centered story that invokes an emotional thrill by mixing intense fear and excitement. Usually the protagonist is in danger from the outset. These fast-paced stories typically involve major threats to the main character and/or wider society and the attempts to prevent something from occurring. Common elements: faster pace, action scenes, plot twists, prominent villain, “ticking clock” timing. Thriller books include Tom Clancy’s The Hunt for Red October and Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl. Thriller films include Se7en (1995), Mission: Impossible (1996) , and Black Swan (2010).

“The Midwife” by S.C. Jensen
Words: 977

“Kneel.” A voice grated in Ev’s ear like rusted metal. The man dug his boot into the back of her knee and forced her to the ground. A guttural scream penetrated the heavy wooden door before her, low and barking. A woman. The flesh at her wrists tore as Ev fought against her restraints.

Cold, hard metal pressed against the base of her skull. “Don’t make me shoot you.”

“If you kill me, she’s going to die.”

“She’s going to die anyway.” The man’s mouth twisted into a jagged-toothed sneer. “It’s the whelp we want.”

He kept his pistol trained on her and unlocked the door. Ev stared past the man at the scene beyond. Blood. Too much blood. Another scream rose up from the fathoms, rising and cresting to crash against the woman’s body. She shook with it.

A priest in dark robes bent his head to speak with the soldier. His eyes met Ev’s, piercing. He nodded. The soldier hauled her to her feet and shoved her inside. The sweltering air stank of shit and iron and sweat. Beads of moisture oozed out of Ev’s skin and burned her eyes.

“Untie her.” The robed man turned his gaze back to the tortured woman, his face relaxed into a subtle smile. Ev wanted to grind his face into the blood-soaked mattress and watch him suffocate. The soldier wrenched her shoulders in their sockets and cut the rope. Another wail from the woman filled the room.

“It’s time.” An ancient looking radio transceiver blinked on the wall behind the man. “You know why you’re here.”

“I need my kit.” Ev rolled her sleeves up to her elbows and rubbed her wrists. Sweat prickled Ev’s neck and rolled between her shoulder blades. Prisoner or not, she had a job to do. “Some water.”

“You need a knife.” The priest indicated a tray next to the bed. Three makeshift blades flickered in the orange light from the woodstove on the back wall. Dirty white leather wrapped around the stainless steel shafts. This wasn’t a delivery room; it was a butchery. One blade had what appeared to be tiny teeth at the tip. A wave of nostalgia flooded through Ev. She wondered if the woman enjoyed skating as a child, before the black robes came. Before the war.

“I’m not doing surgery with a shiv.”

“No.” The priest blinked. “You’re not doing surgery.”

The woman rocked on her hands and knees. The crimson stain on the back of her dress spread like the petals of a gruesome flower. Her screams gave way to a primal growl that tore out of her body like it could carry the baby with it. She was in traction.

“I’m sorry,” Ev said. The woman groaned on, unhearing. Bile burned the back of Ev’s throat when she grasped the grimy leather hilt of the longest blade. Ev motioned to the soldier. “Hold her down.”

The priest nodded and the soldier strode to the head of the bed. He flipped the woman onto her back and put his weight into her body, muscles tensed. The woman’s eyes lolled in their sockets, the surrounding flesh so pale it tinged green. If she died before delivery, the child might, too.

Ev slipped the knife into the woman’s dress and tore the fabric away from her bulging stomach. A lump protruded from one side, above her hip bone. The baby’s head. It’s a mercy, she told herself. Ev pressed the skate blade against the woman’s abdomen and closed her eyes.

“Forgive me.”

Ev plunged the knife into the woman’s womb, braced herself against the bed, and tugged downward. The woman’s body convulsed and she writhed against the soldier. A gurgle escaped her throat and her eyes bulged. Blood and amniotic fluid surged out of the wound, and the last of the woman’s life went with it.

Ev reached inside the cavity. Her fingers found an arm or a leg. She wrapped her hand around the baby’s body and pulled. Hot and wet and screaming the baby came into the world and Ev’s heart nearly burst. She ripped the woman’s dress away from her breasts and placed the baby on her still-warm chest. The infant rooted and latched.

“My daughter.” The priest’s voice cut through Ev’s relief. Acid burned her esophagus and she shuddered.

The soldier relaxed his grip but she stopped him with a word. “No. We’re not finished yet.”

He paused, and that was enough. Ev gripped her blade tightly and slashed upward. The soldier’s throat opened with a hissing spray of more blood. Ev spun and drove the knife into his side. Despite his armour, the blade slid into his flesh more easily than it had the woman’s. She wrenched the blade free and stabbed him again.

The priest shouted and lunged for the transceiver. He wasn’t fast enough. Ev aimed the dead soldier’s pistol at his back. “Don’t fucking move.”

She placed a sodden blanket over the infant and stepped around the bed. She kept the gun on the robed man and grabbed the toothed blade from the table. The man stared at her, wild-eyed. He wasn’t smiling anymore. “Patch me in.”

The man fumbled with the transceiver, flipping switches with trembling hands. Static filled the air in place of the woman’s screams. He held the mouthpiece toward her and pressed the call button.

“Mobile Tactical Surgical Hospital zero zero one,” Ev said. “This is Unit Seven. Do you copy?”

“Mitch one here, Unit Seven,” a voice crackled on the other end. “We copy.”

“The women are being held under the radio tower,” Ev said. “Proceed with caution.”

“Roger that, moving in,” the MTSH operator said. “What took you so long, Seven?”

Ev pulled the trigger and the priest crumpled at her feet. She picked up the receiver and said, “I had to deliver a baby.”

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So there you have it! Let me know what you think!

UPDATE: Here is the feedback I received from the judges. Looks like there were some issues with clarity, and they felt that the “ice skate” usage was too vague. We also wondered (though the judges didn’t mention it) if this was crossing over into the Horror genre by definition, which may also have affected my score.

”The Midwife” by Sarah Jensen –   WHAT THE JUDGES LIKED ABOUT YOUR STORY –

{1795}  This religious takeover in the minds of writers today seems to be a recurring theme. Thankfully each look at this supremacy is different, but still, it’s very interesting to note. I love the conflict within Ev while she’s forced in to do this work and has to sacrifice the woman to save the baby and give her time to kill the men and deliver her message.

{1651}  The story feels high stakes with many suspenseful moment.

{1689}  I love how Ev’s actions reveal her inner character. The reveal that the pregnant mother so meaningless to the priest and the soldier is equally maddening and chilling. Ev’s swift action to save mother—and child indirectly—is breath-taking.

WHAT THE JUDGES FEEL NEEDS WORK –

{1795}  When describing the blades, I would actually mention that one of them is a skating blade. When you talk about the one with tiny teeth at the tip and then talk about skating, we think you’re still talking about that particular blade. But then suddenly Ev is cutting the woman open with a skating blade, and then later grabs the toothed blade to threaten the priest. A bit more clarity with regards to what and where the blades are might clear this up.

{1651}  There’s some spots I don’t understand. Did they kidnap Seven to deliver a baby and if so, how does her team know she’s there? How can Seven hold a knife and hold a pistol while breastfeeding a baby? Why didn’t she try to save the mother?

{1689}  Pull back at some point and give us some context. I don’t think that will undermine Ev’s identity or role. But we do need a better sense of what this is all about so that we are not distracted by trying to figure it out.

Looks a bit like judge 1651 wasn’t a fan, haha. Oh well, live and learn. I still like the piece.

Here’s the definition of Horror, as well, to give you some perspective:

Horror

A story intended to provoke an emotional, psychological, or physical fear response in the audience. Horror stories frequently contain supernatural elements, though not always, and the central menace may serve as a metaphor for the fears of society. Common elements: eerie atmosphere, morbid themes, heightened suspense, focus on death and evil, uncanny situations and persons. Horror books include Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and Stephen King’s It. Horror films include The Exorcist (1973) and Poltergeist (1982).

 

 

 

Hot Off the Press!

It's here!
It’s here!

It’s been many years in the making, but I’ve finally got a box of my very first published book! It’s actually starting to feel real now 🙂 I am still looking for reviewers, if you are interested. Please contact me through wordpress or at scatphillips@gmail.com if you’d like to give it a shot. Thanks for your interest!

Fiction Book Review: Sharp Objects by Gillian

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4/5 Stars

Well, Gillian Flynn has done it again. For me, at least. Sharp Objects is another gritty mystery that I didn’t see coming. I had some idea of what Flynn was capable of, having read Dark Places last year. And yet her ability to draw up a truly disturbed protagonist still surprises me. And, unlike Libby in Dark Places, Sharp Objects’s Camille is both more disturbed and more accessible. I actually liked her.

Now, don’t get me wrong. When I read Dark Places I actually liked that I didn’t like Libby. I liked that there wasn’t a single redeeming character in the entire novel. It’s refreshing and, in my twisted brain, realistic. A world full of shitty people is far more believable to me than one full of moralistic high-roaders and do-gooders. Call me a cynic. Sharp Objects is similarly set up in that there are almost no redeeming characters. But I found myself liking Camille, as well as her boss Curry and his wife. That’s not to say that they’re any less screwed up. If anything Camille has more reason to be a degenerate underachiever than Libby did, and I appreciated her ability to empathize in spite of her own issues.

But one doesn’t pick up a Gillian Flynn novel for a quick pick me up. You don’t read her books to feel good about yourself or about life. If that’s why you read, stay the fuck away from Flynn. But if you’re in the mood for something dark, if you want to take a good hard look at the underbelly of North American life, she’s a pretty safe bet.

Flynn’s strength lies not in her novel’s settings or her world building. We never get a clear picture of the town of Wind Gap itself, though we do see the characters’ more intimate spaces—bedrooms, kitchens, living rooms. What she does well is paint a fantastic inner landscape. She carves out a piece of her characters’ brains and lays it bare. You see everything. The confidence, the pride, the confusion, the self-loathing, all the twisted little things that people sometimes think and don’t like to admit to. In fact, it amuses me to read some of the negative reviews of this book and the vitriol aimed at Flynn for her “sick” characters, their gratuitous sexuality, their perversion. The lad[ies] doth protest too much, methinks. I was never mentally, emotionally, physically, or sexually abused as a child and I’ve thought and felt some pretty fucked up shit. Camille’s uncensored thoughts could easily be anyone’s. If you are repulsed by this idea, I’d like to suggest that you are in serious denial about what goes on inside your own head. It’s either that, or I’m crazy. And while I’d be okay with either explanation, I’m leaning towards the likelihood that most people are way more screwed up than they like to admit.

Flynn’s characters are nasty pieces of work. You’re not supposed to like them, or even to sympathize with them in most cases. The people of Wind Gap are no exception. The town is rife with the problems caused by small town conventions and boredom. Alcoholism, drug abuse, hidden sexual excess, and cruel gossip all rear their ugly heads. And I’ve lived in enough small towns to know that this is more than just a stereotype, whether you live in a Mid-Western town in the US, a small prairie town in Western Canada, or a remote northern community on either side of the border. Granted, not all towns will end up with a double homicide of preteen girls. But all towns harbour child abuse, substance abuse, income disparity, cliques, and worse. It could happen anywhere, and when it does, people are always surprised by what goes one behind closed doors. Flynn is not afraid to show us what goes on behind those doors, whether they be in a character’s home or in their head.

I really liked Sharp Objects. It was dark, it was gritty. It had just enough empathy to make it feel worth reading. And the story itself managed to catch me off guard, even when I thought I knew what I was getting myself into. Flynn manages to paint a very disturbing picture without, in my opinion, being gratuitous with it. And she gets bonus points for an ending that I didn’t see coming. Or rather, that I did and then allowed myself to be lead astray which is even more difficult to achieve. Rather than being disappointed in the ending, like I was with Dark Places, I felt Sharp Objects wrapped up neatly. It was satisfying, if that’s a word I can use for a book like this. It seemed appropriate.

Go ahead. Read it. I dare you.