Favorite Romances

Do you have a favorite romance story? Most of us do, whether it be from the fanfic realm, a classic from your local library, or a paperback from your favorite bookstore. Some of our past Valentine Challenges have sparked some amazing romance stories that continue to be fan favorites. Perhaps you've read some of them and wished you could have joined in the fun, or the intro prompted an idea you wanted to try then but couldn't. Well, here's your chance. . .

This year, we decided to mix it up a bit. While the challenge is open to original STFBE stories, we're also going to allow stories that use the intros from our previous Valentine Challenges. Here's how it works: choose your own title (please also add your screen name in the title line) and be sure to add your rating in the description line. Then, you can simply start writing your original story, or grab one of the intros below to use as a springboard.

You'll notice that we re-worked the intro for the Valentine Ball theme. Since it was so long and encompassed all of the main characters, we thought it might be easier to break it up a bit and let you choose which character you would rather focus on. The other intros stand as they were originally posted.

Voting will be for the following categories:
Best Romance (J/S)
Best Romance (Other pairing)
Best Comedy
Best Paranormal
Best Original Character
Best Short Story (7000 words and under, not including your intro if you choose to use one.)
Best Novice Writer (no more than 2 finished stories on the board when challenge opens)
Best Junior Writer (under age 18)

NEW Category: New Challenge Writer (may have written elsewhere on the board, but first time entering one of our challenges)

For the following 3 categories, the READERS will be able to nominate scenes for voting:
Most toe-curling kiss
Most creative date
Most romantic proposal

Stories must be completely posted by February 16th, 2008 at midnight in the writer's time zone to qualify. Let the challenge begin!

Intro Option #1



[Moderation Note: If you wish to use the Valentine Ball intro, please use the invitation above plus one of the following scenes. Thank you.]

Jack Hudson’s apartment.
February 13

“Invitation standing for Jackson Hudson plus guest,” Jack read aloud, toying with the white velum card in his hand.

He couldn’t think of a place he least wanted to be than at a suit and tie party on a Saturday; but Myles had invited them and he figured out his fellow agent could use all the moral support he could get. From what he’d told them of his upbringing, his were not the warm and loving parents Jack had been blessed with. So, that meant he would be forfeiting one of his rare true nights off and go schmooze with the high society, all under the watchful eyes of the blue-blooded Leland bunch.

His only problem was figuring out who to take with him to the ball. He and Allie were seemingly headed towards another off period in their long series of on again and off again relationship. Maybe this party was just what they needed to reconnect; then again…

“I think I know exactly who I will ask…”

[OR]

Bobby Manning’s apartment
February 13

“Aw, c’mon Darcy – pick up,” Bobby muttered in the phone as it kept on ringing and ringing. He ran his fingers through his hair when the machine picked up.

“Hi, you’ve reached Darcy D’Angelo’s answering service. I am presently unavailable so please leave your message and I will get back to you as soon as I can. If your name is Special Agent Bobby Manning, don’t bother with the message because I’ll just erase it anyways. Have a nice day. *beep* ”

“You can’t stay mad at me forever Darce; I told you I was sorry for missing that dinner with your parents. I had forgotten this was the same night as Poker night. Please, pick the phone? Pretty please,” he asked charmingly, trying to placate her. “Okay, well maybe you’re really not there. Look, I have this invitation to a big bash given by Myles’ parents – everyone of importance will be there and I’d love if you would accompany me. Please call me back? I lo-…,” he stopped as the call disconnected. He’d overrun the set time for his message.

God, I hate those machines…

[OR]

Sue Thomas and Lucy Dobson’s apartment
February 13

Lucy dished out another scoop of ice cream and looked over at Sue, grinning mockingly.

“So, will you ask Jack to go with you to Myles’ party?”

Sue picked her bowl of ice cream and walked to the couch, soon followed by her best friend. She settled comfortably in front of the TV before answering.

“It’s a social event where high-ranking people from the FBI might very well be in attendance, what do you think? And it’s not as if Jack was even single to begin with.”

“Well, I don’t know about that; we haven’t heard of Allie in quite a while. Kinda reminds me of the last time she pulled her disappearing act on him,” Lucy mulled out loud, spooning some ice cream and bringing it to her lips.

“Yeah well, for all I know she is still very much a part of Jack’s life and I am not. We’re just friends, Luce and it’s not about to change. I don’t know… maybe I’ll just ask David – or I’ll go alone.”

“You can’t go alone – it’s a Valentine Ball!,” Lucy exclaimed, shocked.

“Then who are you going with,” asked Sue, deftly changing the subject.

“I invited Troy to come with me. I’m sure he is going to enjoy the evening and he is a lot of fun to be with. He’ll be taking his camera with him this time too,” Lucy said with a soft smile that surprised Sue.

Lucy and Troy?

“Well, I have until tomorrow to find someone,” Sue said hesitantly.

[OR]

Tara Williams’ apartment
February 13

Tara was busy putting together her outfit for Myles’ party – well, technically, his parents’ party. She’d gone a little overboard for the occasion and sported a new hair color that – thank goodness – would wash away after 8 shampoos. Some people carried off being a redhead; she was obviously not one of them.

“Black knit top, checked. Black stockings, checked. Black high heel pumps, checked. Red leather skirt, checked. Well, I think that this is everything I need. Oh wait, accessories!”

She went to her closet and pulled out a shoebox filled with hair clips, earrings, necklaces and bracelets. She went through its entire content and picked the pieces that would best complement her attire the next day: silver was definitely this year’s gold.

“Accessories, checked. Okay, now I have everything.”

She put everything in the bathroom where she would need it and climbed into bed, turning the lights off. She snuggled with her cat and was drifting off to sleep when a sudden chilling thought came to mind. She sat straight up in her bed, scaring Taffy away.

“Oh no, I forgot about a date!”

[OR]

Dimitrius and Donna Gans’ house
February 13

D wrapped his arms around his wife and released a weary sigh. He was never as aware of his age as when he came to bed at the end of the day. It was the moment all the aches and pains assaulted him and made him realize he no longer was a green 20-something jock; but rather a 42 year-old man trying to keep up with the demands of his very physical job.

“A part of me wishes you’d take a desk job and stop putting yourself through all that pain,” Donna said softly, snuggling into her husband’s embrace.

“It’s something I’ll have to consider soon enough if I want to stay with the Bureau. But at the moment I am still enjoying it; it makes me feel alive.”

“I bet. You’ve got to be alive in order to feel pain,” Donna teased him.

Dimitrius grinned and brushed a tender kiss on her shoulder. That woman was his entire life and he loved her as much today as the day he had married her – if not more. He had taken her and their family for granted for so long that it had come as a shock to suddenly realize how close he had come to losing it all.

“I still don’t think leaving Tanya and David alone tomorrow is such a great idea,” she ventured, trailing her fingers on his forearms.

“Tanya is old enough to stay on her own and she is at the age where she could babysit; and usually babysitting involves – well, babies. So she should be able to manage her brother just fine,” D reassured her.

“I guess you’re right… It’s just going to be so intimidating to be in the same room as the state Governor. What could I possibly talk about with their wives? I don’t think too many of them are stay-at-home moms.”

“You’re forgetting something, honey: Sue, Tara and Lucy will also be there and you know them. And those other women also have dreams and aspirations just like any other human being. You just have to reach out to them and past the high-gloss layer to their true heart.”

“When did you become so wise Mr. Gans,” Donna asked with a smile.

“Probably the day I turned forty,” he groaned.

[OR]

Myles Leland III's residence
February 14

"But Myles, you can't be alone at your own party," Elizabeth said in a shocked whisper.

"Well mother, it's not my party – it's yours and Philip's. And even if it were my party, you bet I could and would be alone if it pleased me," Myles said haughtily as he finished donning his engraved cuff links.

"But what will people think?"

"They can think all that they want - though I am not sure how many bother to do that most days. Now, if you'll excuse me... unless you wish to hold my hand all the way to the bottom of the stairs," he arched his brow.

Elizabeth moved aside, studying her son. When had he stopped being so easy to manipulate? All they ever had to do was pit him against Anne and they'd see him rise to the occasion and shine.

"Oh, I almost forgot: I invited Anne since you hadn't bothered," Myles tossed carelessly as he left his room - smiling sardonically when he heard Elizabeth's shocked gasp.

Oh yeah mother, now you can worry about your precious image.

Intro Option #2

He’d left nothing to chance. At least he hoped he hadn’t. And he was good at planning, so this was sure to go off without a hitch. Ever since Tara had cajoled them all into taking part in her current festival of the week, St. Valentine’s Day.

“Come on, it will be fun,” she had encouraged her dubious team.

“Look, we’re used to you playing around with Christmas, and I don’t even mind the bunnies and chicks at Easter, though the live ducklings were a bit much last year. But Valentine’s Day, Tara? Is nothing sacred to you?” he had been the first to protest, but as usual to no avail.

Tara had compromised. “Okay, we won’t do everything I planned, but we will do…this one. Yes, this looks like fun!” She had grinned up at them all from her perch at the computer with such enthusiasm that no one had the heart to discourage her. “This is an ancient Valentine’s Day custom. And it’s easy to do. You have to claim the first person of the opposite sex that you see on Valentine’s Day for your Valentine.”

“And that would entail?”

“Oh, I don’t know, taking him, or her, out to lunch, doing absolutely everything together all day and then something special in the evening. Come on, this should be lots of fun.”

“I’ve never wished you were in a committed relationship more than I do right now.” He forgot who said that, but it was the general consensus of the day.

Of course they had all grumbled and flatly refused to participate…which is why he was perched out here in the freezing cold before the sun had even risen waiting to for the first glimpse of…

Intro Option #3

February 1. She glared at the artfully penned scroll on her wall calendar as if it was more offensive than brussel sprouts. She had begun to hate this month more than any other. Cold and dreary, winter still clung on while the warmth of spring was only a tantalizing hope. And February always pulled off some nasty surprises – like strong winds and icy roads and endless gray skies…and then, of course, there was the matter of the fourteenth. That was the lowest blow of all.

Another year older and still single, she couldn’t keep the thought at bay, shuddering as she remembered all the well-meaning comments and good-natured jibes she’d received from relatives over Christmas.

“Still not married yet dear? No prospects on the horizon?”

“My Cynthia’s expecting her second in the spring – you better hurry up or you’ll miss the mommy wagon.”

“It’s not like you’re getting any younger.”

“And that biological clock is ticking. You do want children, don’t you?”

“Ah leave her alone – she can’t help it if all the good guys are taken. Better happily single then miserably married, I always say.”

“Yes, and after all it’s a new century – women’s roles have changed…”

“It’s all well and good to be married to your career, but in the end it doesn’t warm your bed at night.”

“Nowadays a woman doesn’t have to be married to keep warm in bed…”

“Grandma!!!!”

She groaned, blocking her mind to the painful memories. It seemed that wherever she went over the holidays eligible men, or the lack thereof, were the hot topic of conversation. She couldn’t even site lack of eligibility as her reasonable excuse. Didn’t she work in a building primarily staffed by men – many of them unattached and available? Only not, it seemed, to her.

She stared at herself in the mirror as she applied a last coat of lipstick. So what exactly had she been doing wrong all these years…

Furious with herself for evening entertaining that line of questioning, she screwed up her face in disgust and dismissed her wandering thoughts as unworthy of her. Collecting her handbag and coat, she headed for the door, forcing a smile on her lips as she prepared to meet the day. She faltered on the threshold, teetering forward only to pull back, as if stepping out into the first day of February was more than she could handle right now.

This was ridiculous! Downtrodden before she even began the day, let alone the month. I don’t think so! Suddenly her head snapped up, her chin jutted out and her eyes flashed fire as she squared her shoulders determinedly.

I am not going to get sucked into the vortex of discontent again this year. I work for the FBI – one of the largest and finest law enforcement agency in the world. I know how to follow leads, pursue a case, run a man to ground no matter what obstacles are placed in my way. Sometimes it might take years and a lot of planning and patience to set an operation into motion, but it’s not impossible. That’s it! She snapped her fingers triumphantly. I’m not going to wallow in self-pity the next two weeks and then battle depression the two weeks after that -–Not this year…not ever again. I’m going on my own man-hunt and by Valentine’s Day I'll be snuggling up next to…hmmm, I have just the man in mind…”

Intro Option #4

“Rank amateurs,” Charlene Cherub scoffed petulantly at the odd assortment of pathetically over eager recruits gathered in front of her. “Not one of you with any kind of experience?” she asked hopefully, but wasn’t surprised at the collective shaking of heads.

“We’ve written romance stories, though,” one told her happily.

“With difficult characters who required a lot of handling,” agreed another.

“And we always write them happily ever after,” added a third encouragingly.

“Please, cherubs, work with me here. This is the real world. Real people, not some two-dimensional characters you commandeer on paper. You can’t just erase a bad scene, delete a subversive sub-plot. You have to deal with the hand St. Valentine gives you and roll with the punches, come back kicking and fighting…” Charlene broke off her boxing jabs and stared at the bewildered cherubs in training before her. She shook her head at their undisguised enthusiasm. It went in their favour she supposed. There was plenty of time for them to become cynical on the job. She pushed past her reservations and leveled them with a stern, commanding look. After all, who was she to question the powers that be?

“Right – fall in then, look sharp. We haven’t got all day. We’ve a battle to fight – a war to win…”

“I thought this operation was all about love?” piped up one adventurous cherub, batting her eyelashes in obvious confusion.

Charlene sighed. “Well, of course it is – that’s what St. Valentine’s all about.”

“Then what war are we fighting?” another brave cherub asked in confusion. “War isn’t about love.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Charlene corrected with a heavy sigh. Yep, definitely rank amateurs every last one – fresh out of the Academy of Love and apparently not a bright light in the bunch. “What are we fighting? Despondency, apathy, fear, failure, insecurity…the list goes on. Those are the reasons that many humans fight against the strongest emotion of all…love.”

“Fighting against love – not for it?” a shudder of horror traveled through the little group.

“In comprehensible, I know, but humans are finicky creatures at the best of time. Throw in some of the obstacles I just mentioned and they can quickly get mired in a morose marsh of inactivity. Take this couple here…” Charlene drew an arrow out of the quiver on her back and shot it expertly at a fluffy white cloud that immediately shape-shifted into wide-screen TV. Impressed murmurs carried around the young trainees as they looked curiously at the humans working in some kind of office environment.

“There. You see those two?” another arrow delicately shot from Charlene’s bow pointed out a blonde haired woman and a dark haired man. “Sue Thomas and Jack Hudson. Three years in love and nary a kiss!”

Startled gasps flittered among the recruits. “With their hearts as our targets, this will be our finest battle. We must war against every single obstacle I mentioned before and the biggest one of all. Company politics. This isn’t going to be an easy task which is why there are so many of you, though I had hoped for some seasoned warriors…”

The cherubs looked on in horror as a thick gray mass began accumulating around the couple.

“Look, it’s sticking!” one cherub called in repulsion.

“If it gets any thicker, our arrows aren’t going to be able to penetrate it and they’ll never reach their targets!” exclaimed another.

“Good. I’m glad you understand the severity of the situation. At least they’re teaching you something useful at the academy,” Charlene said with evident relief. “I hope you are all good markswomen, because we won’t get a chance like this again. By Valentine’s Day next year, it will be too late and Jack and Sue will be lost in an abyss of darkness forever separating them. It is our job to bring this couple into the light of love.”

“What about the others?” a particularly romantic cherub asked.

“Bobby Manning and Tara Williams. Might be something there – but it’s in the early stages yet – we’re only allowed a gentle prod to see if the sparkle will turn into a sizzle. Dimitrius Gans, now there’s a success story. Happily married to the love of his life. I shot that arrow myself fifteen years ago,” Charlene added modestly. “And then we have Myles Leland III and Lucy Dotson…” she broke off, shaking her head sadly. “I’m afraid that’s one battle we lost. Still there’s no reason they shouldn’t find happiness with someone else.”

“So, our primary targets are Sue Thomas and Jack Hudson?”

“Affirmative – secondary fall out amongst the others is inevitable and may prove interesting, even enlightening, but stick to our targets, ladies.” Charlene began handing out quivers of arrows. “Handle these with care. You’ll only get one shot with each.” She picked up a pink-feathered arrow. “Romance – an important element in the human relationship. There can never be too much of this – so the point is sharpened to pierce deep and true.”

She plucked out a purple arrow next. “Respect – no relationship can last without it and since we want this particular relationship to be lasting, I suggest you make sure this one is firmly imbedded as close to the heart as you can manage.”

Next she drew their attention to a cheerfully festooned orange and yellow arrow. “Laughter – as necessary an ingredient as love to any relationship. This little baby will fly light and true, making our intended couple happy and carefree. I would suggest beginning your campaign with this one.”

Next she drew out a richly feathered red arrow. “Lust” she declared, “use sparingly and be sure to pierce only the fleshy parts. An invaluable commodity used to demonstrate love, it should never rule it.”

“Now last of all, we have Love.” Charlene held the golden arrow reverently, her eyes alight with excitement. “This little beauty must be weighed and measured and expertly wielded at just the right time or…” Her lips tightened and bright red splotches of colour appeared on her cherubic cheeks. “It doesn’t bear thinking about. Accuracy. That’s what I want to see from you ladies. Understood?”

“Yes m’am,” energetic and enthusiastic replies echoed across the horizon. “Right. Then get on with it. I suggest you start off with a simple reconnoitering mission. Off you go.”

In a flurry of wings and stray feathers and sparkly loop de loops, the newest cherubs hurled earthbound. No one was ever clear how it happened. Someone pulled up too abruptly over the bullpen perhaps. Someone else might have jigged instead of jagged. Or several inexperienced cherubs might well have been feathergating. In any case, whatever the reason, the results were still disastrous. There was a pile up and several quivers full of promise upended prematurely, heading haphazardly for the unsuspecting humans below.

Intro Option #5

“You like my mirror, child?”

Sue smiled at Tara’s eccentric maiden aunt. “It is unusual,” she agreed, looking once more at the numerous gilded cherubs that gaudily crowded around the antique glass, smoky with age.

“It’s been in my family for generations. Since the Middle Ages in fact. My many times great grandfather had it made for his daughters for Valentine’s Day.”

“They celebrated Valentine’s Day that long ago?” Lucy asked in amazement.

“Oh my yes. In the Middle Ages St. Valentine was a most popular saint and they had many interesting customs surrounding the day. They took it very seriously – not like the frivolity you see today.” Miss Williams wrinkled her nose in distaste and the three women visiting her shared amused glances.

“What kind of customs, Auntie Gert?” Tara asked encouragingly. She loved her father’s great aunt with all her heart and was very pleased to be able to show her off to her two friends. They had spent an enjoyable evening this St. Valentine’s Eve sharing good food, stories and laughter. Tara had never seen her aunt so animated. The extra company had done her good and she was glad she had followed her impulse and invited Lucy and Sue along on the visit.

“Well, let me think now. Ah, here’s one that many young women would do well to implement nowadays. It would simplify the whole courtship procedure immeasurably. Not that there is much of a courtship nowadays, the way girls flit about from man to man and vice versa,” Aunt Gertie muttered under her breath. “Well, now, seeing as you young ladies have yet to find your knight in shining armor, you might like to give this a try. Tara dear, bring me a bowl from the kitchen. Any one will do – a clean one, mind.” As Tara hastened to do her bidding Aunt Gertie turned to Lucy and Sue. “While she’s gone I want you to write out the name of every eligible young man you know.” She reached for a writing tablet and began expertly tearing hearts out of the paper. “One name to a heart. Then fold them up and put them in the bowl. Here’s Tara now.”

Obediently the three women bent over their task and thoughtfully scribbled down names.

“No jokesters now, mind. You could saddle your friend with a n’er do well for life,” Aunt Gertie warned. Tara promptly crumpled up three of the names she had written. “Now, toss them all into the bowl and swirl them around. That’s right. Tara, you pick first. Then Lucy. Then Sue.” Each woman selected a heart and took a quick peek.

Tara flushed with excitement. “Now what, Auntie?”

“Now, you sleep with that scrap of paper under your pillow tonight and on the morrow, St. Valentine’s day, if you’re brave enough, you pin that name on your sleeve and where it there for a week. Then see what happens.”

“Is that where the saying, wearing your heart on your sleeve comes from?” Lucy asked, her eyes alight with excitement.

Auntie Gertie nodded her head, but something outside the living room window caught her eye. “Can you hear that?” she fretted, “Ice on the roof. It’s freezing rain again. You girls can’t possibly travel home in this weather there’s nothing for it but for you to spend the night.” The old lady seemed unaccountably delighted at the prospect of extended visitors. Seeing the protests beginning to form on more than one pretty face she thumped her cane imperiously. “I won’t hear a single excuse. I have plenty of room and will enjoy seeing your fresh faces over breakfast tomorrow morning. Tara, you take Lucy and Sue upstairs and let them each pick a room and chose some nightclothes for them from the hall closet. When you’ve changed come back down here and I’ll tell you all a bedtime story.”

* * *

“Your Aunt Gertrude is something else,” Lucy said with admiration. “That’s what my Grams is going to be like if she ever lives to be a hundred a four.”

“Is she really that old?” Sue asked, shimmying into a delectable frothy white nightgown that definitely belonged to another time period.

“Don’t forget your cap,” Tara teased, slipping the sheer lace onto her head and tying a bow under her chin while Lucy and Sue giggled some more. “And Aunt Gertie has the birth certificate to prove it. Okay – all ready?”

“We look like something out of the middle Ages,” Lucy joked, prancing around her white robe. “I’m Princess Lucy and you two are my ladies in waiting.”

“No fair,” Sue pretended to be miffed. “You chose the best role for yourself. I want to be a princess too.” Her pretty pout was ruined by the comical wrinkling of her nose as she tried not to laugh.

“Children, children. We can all be ladies of the manor tonight. Come one, Aunt Gert must be getting tired. She’ll want to see us all decked out in our finery before she goes to bed.”

* * *

“But you don’t really believe that do you?” Sue asked skeptically. Tara and Lucy’s rapt perusal of the Valentine Mirror as Gertrude Williams called it, worried her.

“I’d give practically anything if it were true,” Lucy sighed wistfully.

“There’s no such thing as magic,” Sue said firmly, trying to quell the unidentifiable stirring she felt in her bosom. “It’s not possible to see your future by looking into the past…at least not this way.”

Aunt Gertrude had retired for the evening after she had entertained her three guests with a superstitious story about the mirror that dated back to the Middle Ages and the knights of yore. “Back when men were strong and brave and true.” The old lady had winked knowingly at them. “Isn’t that every girl’s dream – to have a knight in shining armor?”

“That was the plan,” Lucy acknowledged somewhat sourly.

“And it still can be,” Aunt Gertrude said with conviction. “When the time is right. I find it most providential that you three have been stranded at my doorstep on St. Valentine’s Eve. Mind what I said. Each of you give it a good polish on Valentine’s Day and see what you spy…Use a nice soft cloth and some elbow grease and you just may be surprised at what you see…”

And no matter how Lucy and Tara had begged, Aunt Gertie wouldn’t tell them any more.

Lucy walked back and forth in front of the mirror, watching her distorted refection in the antique, smoky glass. She laughed as her reflection shimmered. “It sure looks like there’s something inside there – this mirror has more depth than any I’ve ever seen.”

“Of course it does. It’s ancient; they don’t make them like that any more. Honestly, we’re not twelve year olds on a sleep over pulling out the ouja board. We’re grown women and you two are acting like you’ve been cast under a spell. Here I’ll show you.” Sue marched up to the mirror and began to give it a vigorous rub.

“Stop! It’s not time!” Tara cried, pulling her friend away. “You’re not supposed to do that until Valentine’s Day. You’ll jinx it or us if you do it earlier.”

“Oh for pity’s sake. Nothing happened. Nothing’s going to happen.” Sue exclaimed in exasperation.

“Right, time for bed before we get into an argument. I say we meet back here first thing in the morning and each give polishing the mirror a try. Until then…” Lucy zipped her lips. “Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

* * *

Moving stealthily and quietly in the darkened hallway she made her way down the stairs, her white gown billowing about her bare feet. Once in the hallway below she practically floated into the formal living room and came to a halt in front of the Valentine mirror.

It must be too dark to see my reflection, she thought when the mirror gaped emptily back at her. Well, I’m down here; I might as well get it over with. Pulling her hand back inside the voluminous sleeve of her white nightie she reached out and began to carefully polish one small corner of the mirror.

Suddenly her stomach lurched, her head felt light and her whole body felt an unbearable pressure for a split second before she collapsed onto the ground gasping for breath. Her hands clutched the springy grass and she bent her head low trying to stay the waves of nausea that had suddenly assailed her.

“Grass?” she exclaimed in surprise and looked up quickly, startled to see that men dressed in armor surrounded her.

“What manner of witch might you be, then?” one asked menacingly.

If you've got a question, please post it here and one of the forum mods will answer it.

Hi!

I'm new to the website. I'm thinking about responding to the Valentine Challenge 2008, but have a few questions:

Are there any length guidelines?

Does a challenge need to be answered in one post, or can it be done in multiple posts?

Thanks!

GinaSue

There are no length guidelines, but you must finish the story by the deadline. It is recommended you post your story in manageable posts (usually a scene or two, depending on length - check out the stories in the WIP forum for some good examples) and allow the readers a chance to respond in between. Most writers post one to three posts a day, depending on their writing speed or cushion. Some write their story completely before they begin posting, but still post scene by scene to allow the readers a chance to comment.

For further guidance about posting, feel free to contact one of our BC Mods or any member of the Mod Team.

Janet

Hello GinaSue,
I saw this question and want to say hello. I am one of the moderators for the Beginners Corner. I hope to see a story from you soon. Send me a PM if I can help with any questions.

Sandy (Ivory)