The editors all made it to Atlanta for a very literary time at the 2007 Associated Writing Programs Conference. Quick Fiction and Ballyhoo Stories joined forces not only to cover for each other when we wanted to go for a glass of water, but also on a special writing challenge open to everybody at the conference.

On-site short-short 50 Sates challenge

To highlight Ballyhoo’s 50 States Project and Quick Fiction’s special focus on the short short, the eds asked every writer to write a story about a state on a post-it. Some of the results are below:

Oregon, Mike “I think credence… or maybe the bullfrong said?” he smiled in her eyes.     “And then the rains came, you Dweeb,” she said.     She fell into the puddle…down, down into the deep. He looked again. “Ribbet. Ribbet.”

Washington, Brenda Sparks The wheat was too short for mid-July. How did I know that? Been gone for twenty years, never a farmer. In fact, the wrong color to belong in this wheat-white land. Yet, I loved the contoured hills, watching the seasons grow through thick plate glass windows.     “Kerry, the wheat’s too short.”     “We haven’t had rain.”     Neither did I, and yet I flourished.

Alabama, Erin. P. Zesireo Nostalgia is a disease of the senses. Unfinished roads become endless possibilities, well water tastes pure and true, and if he opens the door, he must mean no malice. Sure as the lumber saw will cut trees and hands, so my senses shall be with reality, misjudging the truth and danger of it all.

Kentucky, Anon. Hank Stalker rode his horse to the tobacco barn to fetch his bourbon. He opened the barn door and saw Clem Ray playing the banjo. Hank took out his pistol, shot Clem Ray twice through the banjo and said, “I hate that goddamn Deliverance song.”

Illinois, Dan Prazer Sam cupped his hands around his mouth. “We’re burning up here, pricks!” His voice tore through the 14 flights of fire escape, {illegible, sorry!} the suited {illegible, sorry!} so they stepped aside just for a moment. But by now they’d figured it was a drill, and stepped back toward the railing.

Indiana, Jack Cobb I sat quiet in Doug’s 1980 Monza as row after row of soybean fields flew by, their worth taken earlier in the day by hordes of Massey-Ferguson combines pale red from weeks of dust and summer sun.     Doug bought and mounted Dunlop radials earlier in the day, and the brand new tires hummed then roared as we gathered speed on Levy Road, just outside Newbury, IN.      As the fields began to merge and the deep clear blue sky gave way to darkness pinpricked with light, it was soon one field, on great darkness, and the sound of the tires became the only sound in the world.

Georgia, Ginger Collins She called it love at first sight, ignoring his wedding band. Casual infidelity was an easy sell, but it took years of hot pursuit to chase him out of his marriage and permanently into her bed.     When his mind started to slip, he laughed and said being married to her made him forgetful. Time proved it was more than just the relationship.     Now every sighting is a first for him, and she’s the one who is caught.

Florida, Africa Fine They called me Ugly Duck. I thought they meant it in a nice way–I would be a swan someday. I asked Mother, “Why not a duckling?” She laughed. “You were never small–always big-boned.” My sister sneered. “Just look in the mirror on the ‘ugly’ part.”      I did. I believed they were right. Ugly Duck.

West Virginia, Stephanie Eve Boone In West Virginia, on the day after Christmas, Howard and his granddaughter drove west alone I-64 through the Teays Valley. “During the Ice Age,” he said, “all of this was underwater.” An ancient lake left deposits so deep the rivers were still slicing them out. Over a mile between hills on either side, she looked up at the overcast night sky.

Pennsylvania, Lauren Eggert-Crowe He took me from Virginville where I churned butter. He said, “I’d like to take a drive through Puseyville.” I wasn’t sure, but he shouted “I don’t wanna go near Blue Fall.” I had heard of Slippery Rock and Beaver, but was kind of scared of going to Intercourse, in any case he dumped me at Mount Joy, and I never reached Climax.

Ohio, John Zackel She pretended to have stigmata. We fell asleep on her friend’s porch. She said, in the early afternoon, “You smell like Cleveland, ” and I said, grabbing a paper towel,”Put a cork in it Delilah.” We laughed like actors until we went back to sleep.

Georgia, James Lower Like Georgian winters, she’s mild, smooth like sixties in the sunshine. Tehre’s an ease settled between her shoulder blades, measured by {illegible, sorry!} brand curls and a thin blouse colored brightly. I {illegible, sorry!} not to speak, but to share the porch {illegible, yikes!} pendulum we both {illeg again!} with our inner ears. But she’s elusive, I sweat like the side of sweet tea glasses.

Tennessee, Travis Eisenbise That night, I lay on my back scanning an expanse of sky and stars–my legs so straight the underside of my knees touch the grass, my arms stiff above my head like two long chopsticks, my body matching the state I’m in–calm and nerve. And all I can think of is why, when I asked you my name, you smiled.

Maryland, Liz Femiano Well sometimes I go to Ocean City and pick up seashells if that’s what you mean by “nature lover.” Otherwise I can’t fucking stand being outside. By “recreational activities,” do you mean throwing the shells at tourists? Because I like that.

The 14th State, David L. Stemhardt Ethan Allen and his brothers fought the British and the New Yorkers, and founded the Republic of Vermont after Ethan’s failed invasion of Montreal with Aaron Burn and Benedict Arnold.      So no, I’m not interested in what you think about Ben & Jerry’s, now that I’ve told you where I live.

Maine, Anne Britting Oleson Binky the drug dealer who lived upstairs in the house next to mine got a chainsaw for his birthday. One afternoon while washing dishes, I looked out the window to see him standing on the upper deck, grinning down at me. He revved off the chainsaw, then sawed off the deck railing.  Once done, he took the chainsaw and went indoors. His smile stayed.

New Jersey, R. H. Schmitt, Jr. Trenton: twilight forgotten city on the edge of River Swift, cold and dirty. Trenton makes the world takes. The old neon sign on the bridge out, flickers whore house red on the water. Under the bridge covered in old newspapers two kids sleep fitfully in eachother’s arms.

Rhode Island, Jim Scott We went to Rhode Island because we heard there were pirates there. Instead all we found were clams. But we stayed anyway because Rhode Island is small and if the pirates showed up, we would hear about it and we could trade them clams for dubloons or monkey. At any rate, we’ve taken to wearing eye patches, just in case they make Rhode Island half as big.

New Hampshire, L. Lewis Babies: They come out like sap, not sweet until boiled.

Puerto Rico, Matt Salesses The State of Denial drank the poison. “Now you will pay for not acknowledging my statehood,” Puerto Rico said. “I did call,” Puerto Rico said, “I told you I loved you but I didn’t mean it.” “No,” the State of Denail said, just before she died. Puerto Rico wondered what she meant.

Maryland, Anonymous There’s an old man in my hometown who owned a beagle, and he would stand with his dog on the side of this one road, and wave to everyone driving by. One day the beagle died, and he stopped going out to wave everyday. The local paper interviewed him and he said he’d never get another dog. he said it was too painful to become attached to something that would die.

Kentucky, Christina Lovin Owen had swallowed one of his false teeth! A thrifty, resourceful man, he set about recovering his investment. Every  morning, he examined his own waste, caught in a cardboard box he found behind thelocal market and stirred with a hickory stick. The third day, thanks to his determination (and a fair amount of epoxy) Own was smiling widely again, one front tooth slightly off-color.

To read stories from other states, check out the Ballyhoo blog.