Anthrofiction Stories Web Site

TheStories for the Winter 2010 Contest are Ready to be Judged

Simply read the stories, as few or as many as you like, but the more the better. Then score the stories you read and leave a comment or two for the author.

You must log in to view the stories. An account is free and I hate spam, so I will not sell, rent, or give away your e-mail address. It’s helpful if you understand the Contest Rules and the theme for this quarter, which is Fractured Fairy Tale. Authors love feedback as long as it’s not mean, so leave a comment. Finally, when you click the “Cast Ballot” button your scores and comments are saved on the system. You may come back any time before the close of the judging period and change your ballot. When the judging period closes all ballots are frozen.

Judging closes January 7th 2011 at the end of the day, UTC (like GMT, but without daylight savings).

Here are the stories and the first few lines from each:

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The Truth About Cinderella

There are many versions of the Cinderella story. Most of them get at least some of the details right, like that she was a blonde and that she did most of the house work, but none of them happen quite the way I remember it. You see, Cinderella didn’t get her name from working in the fireplace, but from me, her pet dragon. And I use the word “pet” lightly. I was more of a sister or a friend to her than a pet. But, her real name is Cindy and mine is Ella. … read more

Rapunzel

Once upon a time, in the leonine country of King Richard the First…

“And the winner is…” Sir Frederic announced in his enormous ball room that held just about everyone in the county. As per the Saint Joan’s Ball custom, all the adolescent lions and lionesses that attended had their names written on a slip of paper and put into a fishbowl. The winner of the drawing got to choose his or her dance partner for the night, and then another name was drawn and that person got to choose his or her partner, and so on. … read more

Who’s the Big Bad Wolf?

It’s just like a dream. You don’t know how it began, but here you are, somewhere in the middle of the woods with a path a few feet in front of you. But you know it’s not a dream because you nip yourself in the arm just hard enough to make it hurt a little. You smell the air, and strangely, the forest smells old, dusty, and processed. You don’t hear any birds singing or any squirrels scurrying, so you guess your reputation precedes you. … read more

Evil Red Riding Hood

Once upon a time a girl was born into the world in a small rural village near the forest. She wore a red hooded cloak every day, thus all the people of the village started to call her Little Red Riding Hood. Does the name sound familiar? Or perhaps ring a bell? Oh yes, Little Red Riding Hood, that sweet, kind, caring, innocent young little girl who delivers special gifts to her grandma, right? Well, not so much, you see, Little Red did not have very many friends, and was fairly poor, leaving her to feel isolated and lonesome. … read more

“Graffers”

She was not surprised, after having met him in the woods, to find the Wolf waiting for her at her grandfather’s cottage. Nor was the absence of her ailing grandfather entirely unexpected considering what she had told the Wolf during their conversation. Her grandfather—“Graffers”, as he insisted she call him—had always been mean-spirited, demanding, and demeaning, and his debilitating illness had done nothing to improve his disposition. Therefore, it was with a certain satisfaction that she saw the door of the closet tightly closed and a heavy bench pushed up against it. … read more

Conla and Sorcha

The year is 2045.

Sorcha huddles down in the blackened earth to wait patiently. That is one thing as a Wolfhound I can do, she thinks. Each minute feels like a day. Ears constantly straining for the slightest sound she waits. The sun fails in its daily battle to break through the chemical laden air making her breathing short and noisy. Luckily she is not cold in this bleak bed as her Irish Wolfhounds coat has become more like an Elkhound, double layered. It is welcome protection against the vicious winds attempting to uproot anything in their path. … read more

The Wolf Who Cried Man

There once was a large forest, that covered the side of a mountain. Nestled among the meadows and valleys, was a hamlet of simple, hardy folk. They farmed where they could among the rocky soil, and had sheep that grazed the mountain pastures.

In the forest surrounding the hamlet was a noble Pack of wolves. For many generations the Pack had thrived, hunting amongst the great variety of game in the forest, but in lean times, crept along the boundary of the hamlet. … read more

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Thanks a million for your help. I appreciate it and I know the authors appreciate it too.

S~