In the spring of this year, when the warmth of the summer calls to us like the vigor of our callow youth, and the long, cold, rainy, iron gray nights still prevail, the Juneau Empire will hold its first Bad Hemingway Fishing Story Contest.
Sound off on the important issues at
Perhaps you have a story about a fine day at Hanus Reef, where you had an epic battle with the beautiful and noble halibut from the murky green depths of the bone-chilling waters of Icy Strait, where on a clear day you can see the Fairweather range turn pink and purple to white in the rising sun. The fight strained the whole of your body and soul in a 15-round heavyweight bout of man against noble fish. Muscles pulled taut and all the sorrow and pain of the Great War were felt in your burning back and arms and heart.
What kept you going were the recollections of great feats of strength from your past. You landed the beautiful and noble halibut, a fish with the pure white belly, as white as the first snows of winter from the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro. You earned the right to walk in the heavens with the likes of Ichiro with his bat and you with your halibut rod in the company of the gods of Olympus.
Maybe a fly-fishing story about red salmon, red like the hair of a beautiful nurse in Paris with whom you had a fine dinner in a good restaurant in Rue Mufftard in the City of Light.
First prize: Two GRX5286X Wright McGill salmon rods worth $99.99 each, from Western Auto.
Second prize: A one-year subscription to the Juneau Empire.
Third prize: A hard-bound copy of Hemingway's "Under Kilimanjaro."
Word limit: 500.
Deadline: April 14.
Submit entries to: email@example.com, or to 3100 Channel Dr., Juneau AK, 99801, with attention to Bad Hemingway.
The rules are simple, like in the old days of our innocent youth. Your story must mention the following:
a landscape feature;
time of day;
the Juneau Empire.
Entries may not exceed 500 words, and are due to the Empire by April 14.
Remember, this is a family paper read by beautiful children, so no profanity. You are not wanted here. Go away.
We will attempt to draft a few regulars from Harry's Bar to be judges: A bullfighter, an old Cuban fisherman, a member of the lost generation. If we can't get them, then we will hide the mojitos and the fine crisp white wine from a panel of self-important journalists as they judge your fine prose.