The Christopher Clark Journal

Chapter 1

"It was a dark and stormy night," No, that's no good. "As long as I can remember, I've always wanted to be a gangster," No, that's even worse. "The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed," All right, I better stop this before I get sued or even worse.

I sloppily erased the words I had scrawled all over the page. I knew it was not up to my standards, but I was running out of time and officially on the clock.

Only one thing stood between me and the start of the rest of my life: this short story contest.

It all started a while ago. I was wandering in my local library, the one I frequented nearly every day, when I saw a flashy poster telling of a fiction writing contest that could bring prizes to the winners, but also—and most important to me—notoriety and recognition.

I had kept my hobby and passion for creative writing under the radar for the past three years; however, now, I made a sudden decision to stray away from every online pseudonym and obscure site I hesitated to post even the slightest of paragraphs on and get a move on.

First and foremost, I was heading straight to the planning stage. I had a boatload of ideas and concepts on the table just waiting to be picked up. It had to be solid and airtight, so not just any little prompt I wrote in my journal would work.

Next, I would find the perfect first sentence to catch the judges' attention, something that stands out above the rest. I want to make an icon out of this opportunity. Or at least, I'll try.

Lastly, before starting, I have to actually enter the contest, and I quickly learned that that was the easy part.

Right after signing up and getting a deadline for the end of the month, a feeling of dread and fear filled my entire body. I realized that I stood no chance against the hundred other entrees, and doubt began to rise within me.

After I got home and to my room, I felt worse than the last time I was there. All of a sudden, my head was empty and useless. I didn't want to even attempt putting pencil to paper.

I usually had a strict thought process for times like this, but everything was out the window in one fell swoop.

My friends on the block would know, my family sooner than them. And before I knew it, I wouldn't be able to show my face again. All because I let some stupid little contest get to me.

I wouldn't let that happen. I will do this, even if it takes me all month.

Little did I know, that it, in fact, would.