Fractured Fairy Tales That Lost

A long time ago, in a place right here where I’m typing on my laptop, the mystical land of Carrot Ranch advertised a contest to write Fractured Fairy Tales and I submitted some stories.

I didn’t win (bit of a sore issue; don’t ask), but did go a little overboard coming up with ideas. In short, I had a blast. The rules were stuff about word limit (99 words), something about fracturing a fairy tale, and another bit about including food.

Here were my entries:

Cinderella

Prince Charming sat, morose.

“Sir?!” His paige approached. “Your Highness requested we search for the girl -”

Lady, Stebbs.”

“…Lady… and to report if we found anything…”

The prince looked up. Hope peeked from a drawn, pale face. “Well?”

*Ahem* “We scoured the dance floor…”

“Yes?!”

“Erm. Nothing.”

The light in Charming’s eyes dimmed slightly.

“But,” Stebbs continued, “Then we searched the landing.”

“And?!”

“We-e-e-ell, actually, nothing as well.”

*Sigh*

“But,” the paige said, “Then we went to the staircase.”

Prince Charming steeled himself. “And?”

His paige proudly extracted an object from his waistcoat. “The lady left behind …an apple core!”

Author’s note: this seems to come out at 100 words, which may be due to my changing the last three words from ‘a hair’ to ‘an apple core’ to ensure that food was mentioned as part of following rules. Whoops.

michael-d-beckwith-577546-unsplash.jpg

Snow White

“Erg damatha gloric zah!”

Bubbling light danced in the old hag’s rheumy, bloodshot eyes. Carefully, she lowered the basket to the cauldron’s surface.

“Erg damatha gloric zoon!”

The potion within foamed and rose; drenching basket, fruit, and tips of long, black fingernails. She lifted all free, frowning at what remained of her nails. Then, Aldetha saw the produce.

“Eeeergha!” she screeched, startling her talking crow out of sleep.

“Cerraw!” he shouted, flapping. “Whaaat?!”

“My spellll!” Aldetha lamented.

Her crow looked at the dripping basket.

She sniffed. “They’re ruined!”

“Well,” he considered, “Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to poison watermelon.”

neha-deshmukh-10734-unsplash

Perhaps I ought to have titled these. The site of losers entries has all of mine as ‘Untitled.’ Double whoops.

The Three Little Pigs

Once upon a time, there were three little pigs. Like all pigs, they spent their days lounging in mud and eating table scraps from the bushy-bearded farmer.

One day, the pigs’ mother told them they’d have to go out into the world. “And whatever you do,” she warned, “Watch out for the big, bad wolf.”

The pigs agreed, though felt sore at being put out and away from the mud. Accordingly, each decided to build himself his own pit.

Before any could acquire straw, sticks, or brick; however, Farmer Wolf slaughtered them all and sold the meat at market.

casey-deviese-697368-unsplash

Bacon sure is tasty.

Hansel and Gretel

Hansel and Gretel -both greedy tikes-
Set out to find more food.
They’d bread; yes, and water, but thought to try
To get cake and eat it, too.

“Look, Gretel,” said Hansel,
“I see a house, all sugar and gingerbread.”
His sister, a-rumbled, thought that sounded swell.
Said she, “Let’s go right ahead.”

But, alas for the pair
Who ne’er thought in sense,
A witch saw them circling
And licking her fence.

The morsels drew nearer; Witch smiled, she sighed;
She plotted and recipe’d.
But, Gretel, with roof piece and Hansel with pane, cried,
“Ugh! It’s all gluten free!”

hansel-and-gretel-551317_1920

Gotta love a terrible poem, right?

22 thoughts on “Fractured Fairy Tales That Lost

  1. Your Three Little Pigs takes the cake, brings home the bacon etc. And, as I’ve learned from another contest (one to to write horrible poetry – I should sent you a link) not winning has nothing to do whether one should have won or not.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. As a judge in one of the rodeo contests you understand the difficult decisions and tough choices that must be made to sort through the many entries, each having merit. I found judging to be a greater agony than writing. One tries to be as objective as possible and uses the rules and criteria to inform the final decision. But finally, only three entries can be named winner. I have a Lyle Lovett song playing, “let’s give a hand to that young cowboy/ wish him better luck next time/”
    It was a fun Rodeo I thought; I learned more about reading and writing from where I sat.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Funny thing is, D.: judging the rodeo dialogue contest gave me the courage to enter the other ones because we didn’t get a very large turnout -and not all of the entries followed the prompt nor the rules all the way.

      It’s not a can of worms I can open without hurting feelings all around, but it has less to do with my thinking I SHOULD have won as opposed to feeling confused at what to improve on for later writings.

      I see a lot more agony in judging my terrible poetry contest, ironic as that is. 😀

      Here or there, I know it’s all subjective and try to remind myself of that.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I’ll take this post as tongue in cheek writing, Chelsea. Contests can be uncomfortable. I’m glad you got involved both as a judge and a participant. That takes guts as a writer. So does leading one of these Rodeo contests and I stand behind the diligence of each leader. If structured feedback is something you want, I’d encourage you to hire a good developmental editor or writing coach. To work with such a person you need to have material. That is the point of Carrot Ranch — to develop material. We make literary art accessible. What you do with it are your next steps, and those are different for every writer. I just want you all to keep writing. Keep taking creative risks.

    Liked by 2 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s