Who: Writers
What: Talented writers writing a love letter to their favorite dive bar; invitation only.
Where: Dive bars. If you have to ask what a Dive Bar is, then we’ve made a terrible mistake asking you to write this. No chains—not even regional chains. If they belong to a restaurant group, then there must be a wildly compelling reason to write about them. HOWEVER, this is about the experience, not the particulars. If they scan like a dive bar, if they feel like a dive bar, if you tell us they’re a dive bar, then they’re a fucking dive bar. However, here are some strong guiding principles. These are merely guidelines. Your definition matters:
- Opens early (Bonus points for 7am)
- They are small. Preferably long and shallow with a single row of two tops against the wall across from the bar.
- There’s something about their bathrooms. And the locks don’t work in the shitter stalls (as if you’d dare take a dump in there…)
- There is a coin operated condom machine in the Men’s Room. Bonus if there’s also one in the Women’s Room.
- They have a dog or a cat in the bar. Lizards are OK. Their parrot has Tourette’s.
- The jukebox smokes.
- They go through a metric ton of Miller Lite each week.
- IF they serve imported beer, it’s limited to the shitty imports (e.g., Heineken, Molson, Corona)
- They don’t have a menu but may sell bags of peanuts or chips from a clip rack next to the analog cash register.
- They smell like 1975.
- Surly.
- Carpet somewhere.
- Cash only.
- Pool. Darts.
- A vessel of some sort with pickled something.
- Xmas lights strung up as an afterthought in 1994.
When: Turn in a story no later than 30 days after we say go.
Why: Because dive bars.
How: Ideally, you’d take a notebook to your favorite bar around 4 in the afternoon and hang out writing an essay about the place until you’re done, or circumstances encourage you to scram. However, we don’t care. There are no hard rules. Get there when you get there. Write on your phone. Leave immediately. DO THIS YOUR WAY.
Tone: Yours. However, we’d love to see: literary. Insightful. Acerbic. We’re just throwing out words here. Your voice is what matters. There are no standards. Cursing is allowed. The perfect story would be written by the resurrected corpse of David Foster Wallace possessed by the ghost of Anthony Bourdain channeling the spirit of Dorothy Parker doing her best Eudora Welty. Or not.
Tip: Focus on something tangible as a means to illustrating the intangible.
Word count: Aim for 500. But don’t let us hold you back. Write a solid grand. Write five. Write a fucking book.
What we get: A killer story.
What you get: A byline on an award-winning whiskey blog and…
• A writer’s fee of $250.00 paid no later than 30-days after acceptance of the finished story.
• Promotion of your current work/book/column/blog
• Promotion on social media
• Our undying love and eternal fucking gratitude
• You’re on our list now
Collateral:
We’ll need basic stuff about you:
• A link to your stuff
• Venmo/PayPal/Method of preferred payment
• A headshot
• A three-sentence writer’s bio
• Phone number
We’ll need basic stuff about the bar (these can be tacked onto the end of your story as a list):
• URL if they have one
• Address
• Hours of operations
• A picture of the interior taken from just inside the door during daylight hours
• A picture of their signage; picture of their liquor shelves behind the bar
• Whatever other pictures you think matter. I love bathroom graffiti. I think it defines the soul of a bar. You do you.
• Song playing when you walked in
Interested? Get in touch with the Editor.