Spring Fling Writing Contest
Call me an April Fool, but I can’t resist a fun challenge!
So when I learned that agent Kaitlyn Leanne Sanchez and her critique bud Ciara O’Neal were hosting a writing contest I leaped at the opportunity.
The Spring Fling submission window is only open for 3 days. No April Foolin!
Deadline for posting your story is April 3, 2025 at 11:59 pm CT. (That’s 12:59 am April 4th, in NY)
SO GET BUSY…. the challenge they’ve set, should you choose to accept it, is below: Scroll down down first to the gif I chose and then to read my entry.
(If that’s not incentive enough, the link to the writing contest there too.)
I took on the challenge by starting with a search.
I googled “Spring” GIF
Finally one stirred me. Below is the result:
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No matter what comes of it, the Spring Fling challenge was fun, and inspiring—and made me very, very hungry. I’m off to the bakery!
Still a few hours left. Give it a try. (Or if you’re reading this after, go check out the various, inspiring, fun, silly, amazing, heartful, entries! Here’s the link:
Spring Fling Writing Contest Details
Now that’s inspiring!
Happy Fishmas!
Happy Holidays from the Fishbowl!
Here at the Kelly’s Fishbowl we celebrate all the holidays—with food
Blood worms for everyone!
lights & a prompt with—because it’s the season—a surprise! (so keep reading to the end).
Right now, Norman and the elf fish are swimming rings around Diver Santa trying to get him to tell them what treats they’ll find hiding beneath their Fishmas Weed in the morning.
Of course they have been fintastic fish all year! How about you? (Don’t answer that…) Instead!
We have gifts for you! Five more Fishmas Jokes to get your fins fluttering.Here goes:
Q: What is Santa Jaws favorite time of day?
A: 12:25
Q: Why don’t clams and oysters give out Christmas presents?
A: Because they’re shellfish
Q: What kind of fish tops Norman’s Christmas tree?
A: A starfish
Q: What do Christmas and lobsters have in common?
A: Sandy Claws
Q: How many presents can Santa Jaws fit into his empty sack?
A: Only one…after that it’s not empty.
And now that 7-Minute Challenge (notice I didn’t say poetry…)
Happy Fishmas Ho-Ho-Ho!
Who doesn’t want a reason to give out with a big belly roll of a ho-ho-ho ? So for today’s challenge, because tis the season:
Write a finny joke. It can be a holiday joke, like the ones above, or not. But try to write a fish joke—sure it might stink but…Here’s the surprise:
The best fish joke posted here (in the comments) or on KellyBennettBooks wins a book of your choice.
1. Engage Your Silly Bone
2.Set the Time For 7-minutes
3. Have a fintastic time!
Hope those got you HO-HO-HOing!
MORE FISHCAKE!
We’ll be back next Wednesday with the 7-minute Poetry Challenge.
Happy Fishmas to you and yours.
Treat yourself to an extra helping of happy!
What Inspires Me? The King of Swing
May 30, 1935: 712th! 713! 714th Home Runs!
Babe Ruth set a MLB Career Home Run Record in his final appearance as a MLB player.
And they said he was “too old” “washed up” “used to be” …”over the hill. . ..
And then he went and slammed it OVER THE WALL!!!
The Babe’s career record of 714 home runs stood until April 8, 1974, when Hank Aaron slugged his 715th career homer. Ruth came out of retirement to play one game for the Boston Braves at Forbes Field against the Pittsburgh Pirates.
Babe Ruth ended the game, and his career, with a triple crown: 3 hits, 3 RBIs, and 3 walks.
For more about baseball and Babe check out the SABR—the Society for American Baseball Research
“On May 26, 1935, at in a game against the Pittsburg Pirates, Babe went four for four, hitting three home runs—No. 712, 713, and 714 to set an MLB career home run record that stood until 1974—and driving in six runs. Number 714 was truly a “Moonshot.” It stands as the first ever hit over the right field grandstand at Forbes Field. The hit was measured to have flown 524 feet. Pirates Pitcher Guy Bush later recalled, “It was the longest cockeyed ball I ever saw hit in my life.” ”
Make that a big 715!
In the July 8, 1918 game against the Cleveland Indians, bottom of the 10th inning, with the score tied 0-0, and Amos Struck on first, Babe blasted a homer into Fenway Park’s right field stands. Because, as Struck touched home plate to score the winning run, the game was technically over, Babe was credited with an RBI and a triple but not a home run.
Friends—Don’t Miss Out!
55% discount on Amazon
That’s right! Right now, The House that Ruth Built is on sale. Limit 4 copies. Free shipping with Prime.
Get yours—and all your baseball fans a copy!
Lights! Camera! Action! Happy Babe Ruth Day!
Happy Babe Ruth Day! Today, April 27th, in ballparks everyone players and fans are celebrating Babe Ruth!
Babe Ruth is all of those names and more. He is the greatest baseball player of all time!
Pro players are still chasing records he set almost a century ago!
The King of Swing!
“New York City hosted the first National Babe Ruth Day on April 27, 1947, soon after Ruth's cancer diagnosis. Ruth attended ceremonies at Yankee Stadium to 58,339 fans. In the House that Ruth Built, fans cheered as dignitaries surrounded the Bambino, including Francis Spellman, Commissioner A. B. Chandler, A.L. President Will Haridge, and N.L. President Ford Frick.”—National Day Calendar
“He [Babe Ruth] was an original in every way. He had a librarian’s legs, an oversized head, wrists thick as pipes and a moon-shaped face so ugly it was lovable.”—SportsCentury
While everyone—and I mean everyone—knows the name Babe Ruth, and many know he was a baseball player, I realized lots of us—most of us—me included, aside from movies, have never seen him in action. And so, to celebrate Babe Ruth today, I dug up a gloveful of Babe Ruth movies
“The Babe’s first motion picture, Headin’ Home (1920) in which Babe played a character similar to himself, was filmed mostly at night on at Biograph Studios in Fort Lee, New Jersey.
On August 22, 1920, action scenes were filmed at a ball field made up to look like the Polo Grounds. A crowd of 2000 movie extras as “fans” were in the stands.
While the cameras rolled, Babe Ruth’s character (also called “Babe”) used a bat he supposedly whittled out of a tree trunk to blast balls out of the park and into neighboring houses and yards.
After filming that day, Babe raced back to the real Polo Grounds for a Yankees’ game against the Detroit Tigers. During the “real” game, in 3 at bats, Babe didn’t get any hits, but he did manage 2 BB; the Yankees lost 9-11.”
—excerpt from the book I’m working on now….who’s it about? I’ll bet you can guess…
Why? Name any other athlete so popular he inspired a stadium!
Read about the April 18, 1923 opening day game in my book.
(Of course you need a copy—click on the pic for a link to where to buy)
Babe Movies Playlist: Babe appeared in reels, shorts & movies. Here are a few!
Grab a friend and play a little catch. That’s what Babe would do!
Happy Fishmas!
Happy Holidays from Kelly’s Fishbowl!
Here at the Kelly’s Fishbowl we celebrate all the holidays, with everyone—always with lights & food!
Bloodworms for everyone!
This morning Norman and Knot are swimming rings around Santa trying to get him to tell them what they’ll treats they’ll find hiding beneath their seaweed in the morning.
Of course they have been fintastic goldfish all year! How about you? (Don’t answer that…) Instead!
We have gifts for you! Five Goldfish Christmas Jokes to get your belly’s jiggling.
Happy Fishmas!
Q: What is Norman’s Favorite Christmas Song?
A: We Fish You a Merry Christmas
Q: What is Whale Santa’s official greeting?
A: Blow-Blow-Blow
Q: Who brings good-little goldfish Christmas presents?
A: Sandy Claws
Q: What do goldfish use to tie Christmas bows?
A: Ribbon Eels
Q: What do goldfish sing over the holidays?
A: Christmas Corals
Hope those got you HO-HO-HOing!
MORE FISHCAKE!
We’ll be back Wednesday with the 7-minute Poetry Challenge.
Happy Holidays to you and yours.
Treat yourself to an extra helping of happy!
That Voice . . .
You know that little voice inside your head?
The voice behind the wagging finger?
The one that tells you want you should be doing…or should have done? Well, my little voice was talking all kinds of trash.
It may or may not have been why I was doing the OJ through JFK Thursday morning. (By OJ, I don’t mean perhaps stabbing "my" woman or high-speed racing cops down the freeway with the world watching. I mean sprinting through the airport jumping over suitcases ala Samsonite commercials from back when OJ was a rock-starish football hero.)
I was flying from JFK to Burlington, Vermont. My flight was scheduled for 9:10 am. My friend and fellow #VCFA UN (Unreliable Narrator), Cindy Faughnan was picking me up in Burlington.
Looking into the mirror can a dive into the Black Hole…
Excited about the trip, seeing friends, being back with writing friends, I was packed up, alarms—3 of them—set and ready to go with plenty of time, I thought . . .
But. . .
I may have pushed snooze
May have started daydreaming in the shower
May have used the high-magnification side of the make-up mirror—even though I hadn’t allowed time to apply make up at all—which showed a few errant eyebrow bristles that had to be plucked before I could leave. . .
(Where, I ask, was that darn little voice during all of that? It should have been warning me, telling me, hurrying me, but NO. . . )
So, I left home a little later—only 18 minutes—than planned. Big deal, I thought . . .
But. . . a highway lane was closed
Traffic was horrid
There was no gas station after the JFK exit . . .
So, I'm turning off the highway, onto the rental car return street, with about an hour to go before my flight was scheduled to leave. That’s when the little voice pipes up:
“You’re going to miss the flight.”
I’m trying not to listen but . . .
. . . That voice is loud, incessant:
“Why bother?” It’s telling me. “Turn around, find another gas station, fill up your tank, maybe get some breakfast cause there is no way in hell you’re making that flight, lady.”
That niggling little voice was persuasive. I could feel my foot lifting off the accelerator, could feel my arm muscles flex, ready to crank a U-Turn and go back to a gas station.
“La-la-la I don’t hear you,” I said, resigned to not refill the tank. “So, I’ll have to pay the rental car company premium for those few gallons,” I reasoned. “It’s less expensive than missing the flight.” I gunned the engine, roared into the rental car lot, pulled into the car return line. But. . . Where was the attendant? The shuttle bus was pulling away and there was no attendant!!!
“Told you!” said that little voice. “You’re too late. No way can you make the flight, now.”
Oh, yeah? Leaving the keys in, the car idling, I grabbed my suitcases, ran for the shuttle, tossed them inside and was about to ask the driver to call someone, when the attendant ambled out. “I’m going to be late,” I told him. “Please, check me in. Do I have to wait here?” I must have had that look on my face, because he kicked it into high, checked in the car and handed me the receipt before the shuttle door closed. (No questions about the lower fuel—I’m sure I’ll get an email about that soon.)
“Terminal 5,” I said.
The driver said: “You know we don’t go to the terminal. We stop at the Air Train.”
The little voice said:
“Give up already. No way you’re going to make this flight.”
“Yeah, but I can try.”
As that shuttle pulled up to that long, white tunnel leading to the escalator rising up to another escalator, to the Air Train station, with the huge Flight Board where all the flights, terminal numbers, gates, times and flight status posted overhead. And that little voice kept niggling, louder, as I searched the board for my flight where the status column was blinking, flashing in green: BOARDING.
So? So maybe I will miss my flight. But. . . maybe I won’t.
On the Airtrain, I tried using my phone to check-in for my flight, again. (I’d tried checking in 23 hours earlier, but hadn’t been able to.) But this time it did. Which bought me some time—and gave me hope—All I needed to do was get to the gate before boarding closed…
But . . . The Airtrain stop at terminal 5 is a long corridor, 3 escalators, and another long corridor and an escalator down to Check-in and Bag-Drop and there were all sorts of slow-walking, weaving, lagging people not in a hurry between me and checking-in.
And the clock was ticking inside, and my guts were twisting and that little voice was saying:
“You screwed up bad. You are not going to make this flight. Why did you put on make-up? You hadn’t planned for it. Why did you even bother showering? Why did you go to sleep at all? No way are you going to make this flight. . . ”
But . . . Maybe I can.
And maybe out of spite, when I tried to check in for my flight, the check-in kiosks couldn’t read my passport. “Told you,” taunted that little voice.
Shut up, I told it, and tried again, using my name. It worked! But a notice flashed saying it was too late to check bags and asked if I wanted to proceed without checking bags.
“You can’t do that,” said that little voice. “You have 2 bags and a purse. Besides, you probably have liquids in that bag you were going to check, too. You’re gonna get beeped…”
Maybe. Maybe not.
I completed the check-in, took my boarding pass and sped to the TSA pre-check line. The TSA guard was very nice and smiley as he told me my bag was too big, and I had too many, and he didn’t want to lose his job. And that little voice laughed and laughed.
Go on, laugh… I thought, and I didn't budge. I waited, with my eyes, urging the TSA guard to have pity. “Ask one of them to give permission for you to proceed," he said, directing me to the airline counter.
It was minutes until the Gate closed. The security line was long. The little voice was probably right: I was going to miss that flight.
Still, I did as directed. I walked—did not run—over to the Check-in desk. When the attendant asked what I wanted and I started tattling:
“That TSA guard wouldn’t let me go through,” I tattled. . . . “And now I’m going to miss my flight—” If I wasn’t actually, physically pouting, I was mentally, and that Jet Blue agent, may have been somebody’s mother, because she took my boarding pass. “Follow me,” she said, and started toward the long security line. And the now smiling “I’m on your side” TSA guard, waved me through.
“You’re still not going to make it,” that little voice was saying as I hoisted my 3 bags—which included the one I had planned to check that may or may not have liquids inside—onto the security belt.
“This is taking way too long,” that little voice taunted as my purse and boots went through the machine, then my first bag, but stalled with my 2nd bag, my may-have-liquids-or-a-corkscrew-inside-should-have-been-checked bag inside.
“GIVE IT UP!” that little voice hollered, as the security guard hauled my bag over to the machine for manual inspection and to be swabbed for explosives.
That little taunting, niggling, needling voice was making me crazy. But . . .
Even when I looked up at the Flight Status sign and saw a bold, all caps CLOSED sign next to my flight, even though the gate my flight was leaving from was—through the tangled Starbucks line—farthest away, I kept going.
“It’s gone!” that little voice said, “You screwed up. You are a mess. You blew it, sister!” as I passed Starbucks and the Gate sign came into view, and beneath and around it I saw a huge crowd gathered, and my spirits began to lift, my hopes soar: Maybe I hadn’t missed it! They’re still boarding.
“Yeah right…”said the little voice.
And it was right. It wasn’t my gate. The crowd wasn’t for my flight. My gate was the empty gate next to it.
I slowed. Excused my way through the crowd and walked toward the attendant at the empty check-in desk at my gate. She was talking with another woman who might or might not be a passenger—please be a passenger. The gateway door was still open. As I approached with my 2 bags and purse, red-faced and out of breath, cursing that little voice, the attendant motioned that other woman aside. She looked at me and said, “Mrs. Bennett? We’ve been waiting for you.”
That’s the thing about that little voice: It’s gonna talk.
There is not one single thing we can do about that. There’s no way to silence it, either. (At least I can’t. And I’ve tried.)
But, there is something we can do . . .
NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION #1: Decide not to listen.
Little Voice Playlist:
Something to Talk About by Bonnie Raitt
Leaving on a Jet Plane by Peter, Paul & Mary
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Homer for Jackson!...Giveaway Report
The best part of the Winner-Winner Chicken Dinner Giveaway is—the PRIZE Giving Part!
And the Summer 2023 prize was one hum-dinger!
As you might recall, a second-grader named Jackson won this past quarter.
How did Jackson enter the Winner-Winner Chicken Dinner Give-Away?
I’m glad you asked. An adult in his family posted this picture of Jackson holding The House That Ruth Built on my Facebook page.
In September, in a completely random drawing, Jackson’s name was pulled from a bucket. (To watch a replay of the drawing click to Kelly Bennett Books YouTube Channel)
Get this! Out of all the prizes he could have chosen, Jackson picked a virtual author visit for his 2nd Grade Class at Sue Park Broadway Elementary School in Spring, Texas.
Talk About Surprised!
Thanks to Jackson’s teacher, Ms. Kara Carpenter, who rearranged their busy schedule, I didn’t simply zoom with her class—I actually zoomed into the school. In person!
Noooooooooo I did just stand up there reading to myself. . .
Ms. Carpenter’s 2nd graders were seated on the floor—up front and center—asking questions and helping to remind Vampire Baby:
“Tootie! No Bite!”
And the class asked great questions!
We talked about where story ideas come from.
We talked about hobbies, and poetry and BASEBALL
…And how my families love of baseball and one of the 7-MINUTE CHALLENGE poetry prompts—posted each week on my blog “The Fishbowl” became a book—and more are in the works.
I talked about how stories become books…
“7 Times! Have you ever had to redo your homework 7 times?
You can’t see it—because Ms. Carpenter’s 2nd Graders are hidden by the desks—they are all shaking their heads—really hard—Homework 7 times!!!
And at the end of the visit Jackson passed bookmarks out to everyone and as a thank you Ms. Carpenter’s classroom has their very own copy of my new non-fiction picture book: The House That Ruth Built
Jackson really did hit a homer—an author visit for his homeroom that is!
And so did I! I had a delightful time doing what I love best—chatting writing, reading, books with kiddos!
Big thanks to Jackson and his 2nd grade teacher Ms. Carpenter for making it happen!
Before I left Jackson asked:
“Can I enter the Giveaway again!"
My answer: “YES!!!!”
And you can too!
The Winner’s Choice Giveaway happens—you guessed it: Four Times a Year!
That means 4-count them-1-2-3-4 drawings each year.
How often can you enter? As often as you like! And get this . . .
Enter now, enter often, even better—have your kids, students, second-cousin on your goldfish’s side enter.
There is no limit to how many times you enter—or WIN the Quarterly Winner-Choice Giveaway!
Find the Complete Quarterly Winner-Choice Giveaway details here!
#familius #baberuth #sueparkbroadwayelementary #giveaway #notnorman #picturebooks #readingisfun
What Inspires Me? Pumpkin Maniacs
Anytime someone says you can’t make a living doing what you love,
just say:
“Pumpkins!”
Marc Evans and Christ Soria carve pumpkins for a living. Last year they carved pumpkins for all the suites in Yankee Stadium. And carved a Mike Myers pumpkin ala the Halloween Movies that became a cover of Newsweek. And so many more.
They are Maniac Pumpkin Carvers!
“Maniac Pumpkin Carvers started out as a labor of love but quickly spiraled into something that is so much more.
Founders, Marc Evan (@marcmaniac) and Chris Soria (@chrissoria), high school buds who shared an obsession for Halloween.
Each year they spent weeks transforming a section of the school into a series of successfully terrifying Haunted Houses. Later, while both studying at Parsons School of Design, the duo rekindled their love for Halloween by discovering a passion for pumpkin carving. “—from the website: About — Maniac Pumpkin Carvers
And get this: We can be pumpkin carving Manic’s too.
Maniac Pumpkin Carvers teach classes! In person and online. Here’s the Class Info!
Maniac Pumpkin Carving! Now that’s inspiring!
