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#26: Musical Genius

January 27th marks 264 years since the birth of one of western music’s greatest composers: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

To celebrate Mozart’s birthday, this week we’re inviting you to explore different facets of both his life and his legacy. From little-known biographical details to the things he’s most remembered for, let the tune of his life inspire you to create your own entirely unique masterpiece.

P.S — Want to learn more about the lives and legacies of other greats? Check out this list of our 30 favorite biographies.

🥇 Winner

“Lara” by Hannah Carter

Submitted on 01/31/2020

I sit, frozen and rigid, on a cold bench as I stare at the stringed instrument that taunts me with its very existence. So you are a prodigy, the voices whisper in my head. No, of course not, I tell them right back. I am not a prodigy. I am just Lara. The voices are relentless, whispering that dreaded word in my ear, mocking me with its weighty meaning. Fame and exploits, wealth and power: all of these things come with being a prodigy. Lara is not a prodigy. She is just a ...

41 comments 41 WINNER 🏆

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⭐️ Shortlisted

“A Song For A Flower” by Jennifer Riley

Submitted on 01/27/2020

Leda noticed the guitar case as soon as the man entered the inn. Too small for a guitar, actually. A mandolin, maybe. She narrowed her eyes as she watched him, her hands busy with her barkeep tasks. He stayed by the door for a minute, looking around the taproom, at the tables only sparsely filled with customers, every single one of whom had been there at The Sow’s Ear a dozen or a hundred times before. This man by the door, this musician, was a newcomer. Newcomers were a ra...

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“The Patron Saint of Lost Things or Lost People ” by Emily Sperber

Submitted on 02/01/2020

For the longest time, I didn’t know what my name was. That is the thing you should know when you don’t know anything else. But I didn’t mind it. I could tell when people were talking to me and when they weren’t. My mother called me Honey, Sugar, Pumpkin, Gum Drop, Caramelo when she slipped into her Spanish. I grew up thinking I was the derivatives of sugar. I was the ingredients that went into making a cake. My father called me son. His voice the way I read italics in books. It made me believe I was the yello...

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“A Veteran Fiddle” by Dakota Geiger

Submitted on 01/31/2020

First was my Pop. He served in the Civil War, a drummer boy, and an excellent one at that. Somewhere buried deep in my drawers I bet I could find his badge he willed to me. He was only 16, but he still marched just as tall –if not taller– than the other soldiers. Fighting for the unity of our country, he was my idol. I never quite knew how he was able to play music after the war. He told me the bloody details...

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“Five Years Afterwards” by Deborah Mercer

Submitted on 01/27/2020

An urban vocalist. That’s what I’m “supposed” to call myself. Not that I’m the only one. Begging is illegal (officially) and street singer makes it sound as if we’re poverty stricken here (which we are). It saves the state having to pay benefits (which it rarely does) or making the hard-pressed and supposedly neutral charities even more over-stretched, when those of us with some talent – that glorious, clumsy, old-fashioned word ACCOMPLISHMENT springs to mind – can eke out our own in...

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“Holding” by Carmen Friesen

Submitted on 02/01/2020

He wakes up in an empty bed. A pang of hollowness stabs him. It will take a long time before he’s used to this, the raw ache of missing. It’s a familiar feeling. It feels like losing a limb. For a minute he lies there, crushed by the weight of a thousand empty mornings stretching out before him. He doesn’t want to get out of bed, to face the loneliness of the future that yawns like a gaping mouth. How can he bring himself to move forward into a world without her? He will not think of the future. Not yet. Today is for rememb...

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“E Flat” by Rachel Fendrich

Submitted on 01/31/2020

He was surrounded by notes, and they were taunting him. Dozens of lined pages were strewn haphazardly around him, ensnaring Abraham in a tight circle of accusation. The quarter notes were now eyes, black as death and unforgiving, never shifting their gaze away from him. The eighth notes had twisted into sneers, the sixteenth notes snarls, with the white space between the beams shape-shifting into bared teeth. And the whole notes opened wide, screaming a...

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“The Mortician” by Elena Welsh

Submitted on 02/01/2020

I remember the day I first stumbled upon the name ‘William Banting.’ I was fourteen years old, friendless and awkward, and obsessed with poetry. The school library was my haunting ground. One day I was wandering through the back recesses of the library when I found a pamphlet titled Letter on Corpulence, Addressed to the Public. I’m still not entirely sure why my public school had this buried in its depths, but I am forever grateful it did. That was my first day experiencing faith. &nb...

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This week's prompts:

Write about a character who was considered a prodigy when they were young.

General – 66 stories

Write about a character who goes by many different names throughout their life.

General – 57 stories

Write about a character who was raised in a musical family.

General – 57 stories

Write a story about a musician struggling to find work during wartime.

Historical Fiction – 43 stories

Write a story about a character obsessed with one of the long-dead “greats” in their profession.

General – 25 stories

Stories

“Lara” by Hannah Carter

Submitted on 01/31/2020

I sit, frozen and rigid, on a cold bench as I stare at the stringed instrument that taunts me with its very existence. So you are a prodigy, the voices whisper in my head. No, of course not, I tell them right back. I am not a prodigy. I am just Lara. The voices are relentless, whispering that dreaded word in my ear, mocking me with its weighty meaning. Fame and exploits, wealth and power: all of these things come with being a prodigy. Lara is not a prodigy. She is just a ...

41 comments 41 WINNER 🏆

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“Moon’s New Solar System ” by 𝕂𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕣𝕒 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕟𝕖

Submitted on 01/29/2020

My parents were whispering softly in the living room. It was so quiet—they sounded like the soft, drizzling rain that was falling on our window a few days ago. I couldn’t go to sleep. Half of me wanted to go back to my bed, but the other half is to listen to what my parents were talking about.“…when to tell her she’s adopted,” Mom was whispering.Adopted?“Moon needs to know,” Dad said softly, like the stars in the sky.Me? I need to know?I felt like fifty people were stabbing my bod...

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“To Me, To You” by 𝕂𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕣𝕒 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕟𝕖

Submitted on 02/01/2020

To my mom, I’m Mandy. But when she’s mad, it’s Amanda Gold-Heart Tanner. To my dad, I’m Princess Bonnie, from his favorite old TV show that he watched as a kid. To my grandma and grandpa, I’m Boomer, the name of her dog that passed away.To my brother, I’m Silly Amandini. To Elisa, I’m Amanda. But to me?I’m not really sure…yet.“Come on, El,” I say, trying to convince my best friend to stop being anxious.“But we have no classes together!” Elisa complains.“So? We can a...

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“FreeFall” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

Submitted on 01/27/2020

The morning came by accident. The night before, two young teenagers had held hands as the rain fell on their brown skins and had listened as someone sang a terrible cover of Ed Sheeran's One. The lyrics were the last thing they heard before the morning came. As the sun wove its head from amongst the clouds, the girl let his hand slip from her wrists. The boy looked at her, long and hard and then he smiled and looked back at the street. She said, "I got the scholarship." It was so sudden the boy paused h...

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“Hard Lessons ” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

Submitted on 01/25/2020

Back then in a family of five, Gerald was the black sheep. Which meant that he was the useless one who couldn't handle anything or make things go right. There was the pretty twenty-year-old daughter who could play the banjo so well; there was Jack who played the piano like a second skin and then there was mother and father who sang songs that reached the heart.Gerald was the one who couldn't play a thing. Father tried hard to make him just right, after all, theirs was a family of musicians. But not much could have been done. Gerald...

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“Poison Ivy - stage 1” by Twilight Bee

Submitted on 01/31/2020

You and I are like poison ivy. We irritate ourselves or others until they are swollen, then we leave them. We delegate our pains to be like bubbles. Like bubbles? Like bubbles who rise up in water in a pressurising pan, pushing others down, popping them out, then we rise or pop ourselves. Sink: pop. Rise too far above: pop. So keep your toes on the ground and float. You stay down then you will be delegated on, fly too high then you will fling your burdens to others. Poison ivy.Gentle though they seem to appear, pounce on you like a...

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“The Codebreak-her by Linda Herskovic” by Linda Herskovic

Submitted on 01/26/2020

Rachel was standing at Doug’s computer showing him their version of a coding system. Doug was new to the company.“Sorry. I’m not used to all these characters being used,” Doug said. “At Richter, we only used only about five at a time.”“Well, forget everything you know. Well, not everything obviously,” she said with a little giggle.Doug looked up at Rachel. She had an awesome smile when s...

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“People and Dogs and a Harmonica in a Car” by Zilla Babbitt

Submitted on 01/24/2020

Ricky. Me. Marlinspike. Toots. Charey. Coley.Okay. Then the dogs, Persimmon and Beans. The guitar and the harmonica. Luggage and camping junk. And car keys.Daddy slammed the door of the trunk and the car windows shook. Charey shrieked. Marlinspike hushed her, first quietly, then when Charey kept giggling, louder and louder, Daddy had to glare at Marlinspike for yelling, “Shut up Charlotte!”Rickey was buried in his comic...

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“The Baron's Daughter” by Arthur Tiberio

Submitted on 01/29/2020

They locked the cello in the cellar. Now, before we go any further, understand that this was not the sort of cellar in which we find homey cabinets of jams and pickled beets. Mrs. Maganis is more than fond of the story and, before the incident, acquired quite a knack for telling it.Her husband was the sort of man who takes great pride in the guests he brings to his table, and though he was not usually a proponent for letting the women "prattle on through gentlemen's business," as he put it, it was not long before she developed such...

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“Festival of the Bear's Hand” by Zilla Babbitt

Submitted on 01/26/2020

I am the woman who sits at the café edge, the one with bluish curled hair, the one who writers her Ls all cursive, the one who only loves men named Martin. I am she. I sit. I watch. The café belongs to me within my soul. I live here. I sit under a viney shade with a cup in my raw-rubbed fingers, blue curls hiding my eyebrows, sitting, watching. They call me Mademoiselle Sorcière. The witch-lady.I do this every day, here in this café. I drink the same tea, smile the same smile, sit i...

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“Dead Name Alicia” by Paige Leppanen

Submitted on 01/29/2020

My birth parents named me Joy. They always said it was because they were so happy and excited about becoming parents for the first time. That excitement apparently wasn’t enough. At seven years old I was in my first foster home, unable to sleep in a strange bed, wishing that my parents had named me “Crystal” because I heard them talk about her a lot. I cried for hours because I figured they loved her more than they loved me.I didn’t talk much in that first home. I missed my family and my stuffed a...

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“The Professional” by Julie Le blanc

Submitted on 01/31/2020

Lil Johnny Brown was never the first child to be picked for teams at school. He was not a very popular kisser. Heck, even the Mathletes were a little wary of the four-foot-two, chunky, pink child with a mosaic of acne you could read your horoscope in. But lil Johnny Brown had a secret.No, not really. It was too enormous to be a secret.He was the best sousaphone player in the world.Now, some of you might be wondering, how might I, too, play the sousaphone? Or where might one acquire such an instrument? Or oh, ...

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“Fallen Prodigy” by Ariana Peal

Submitted on 01/28/2020

She collapsed onto the bed, her body, almost instantly paralyzed by the feeling that began to spread through her body. The comforter hugged her body as she sank deeper. The warmth spread slowly all over her, taking over everything. It spread from her toes to her head causing a lazy smile to spread across her face. She felt like she was floating in the water, listening for the music that began to play with everything flowing...

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“Anonymous Donations” by Kat Gruszka

Submitted on 01/30/2020

Dear Ms. Thumbern, we are holding this year’s gala in your honor. We would be thrilled to have you attend. Your considerable donations for the last 20 years have been extremely generous, and we would like to recognize you… She didn’t need to read the rest; she knew she couldn’t attend. Yet, she had worked hard for this. She could not imagine another place more deserving of her money. Actually, their money. “Ms. Bloom?” She hadn’t even heard the first grader walk up to her desk. She casually put the let...

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“The Music Box” by Morgan Elbert

Submitted on 01/30/2020

“Couldn’t we just hang out here?” Hugh pleaded. “No! We spend enough time here already!” Nella responded, gesturing around them. They were sitting on a crumbling concrete stage in the amphitheater of a long abandoned park. This is where the old circus used to set up when it was in town. Performers of all sorts would stand on this very stage and do their acts.&n...

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$50

Prize money

290

Submissions

Ended on 23:59 - Jan 31, 2020 EST

Won by Hannah Carter 🏆

Title: Lara

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Submissions will be approved and published within 7 days of the contest closing.

Please keep your submission between 1,000 - 3,000 words.

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