Wit is welcome—but so is restraint. In Austen’s world, the sharpest truths are often whispered behind fans or folded into polite conversation.​ A strong entry for this contest will balance elegant narration with sharp observation. We're looking for clever character interactions, subtle humor, and a touch of rebellion beneath the surface. The best pieces won't just make fun of society—they’ll expose it gently, precisely, and with grace.

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Your prose should glide. Your dialogue should sparkle. And somewhere beneath it all, your judgment should quietly strike.

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• Keep your narrator smart but distant. Whether you're writing in third-person or first, the voice should observe more than it reacts. Think of your narrator as someone who sees the whole room — the motives, the ironies, the hypocrisies — but doesn’t interrupt the flow. They may raise an eyebrow, but never shout.

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• Let judgment live in the details. Don’t tell us a character is selfish — show us they take the largest slice of cake. Don’t say someone is insecure — let us hear how they name-drop, self-correct, or overshare at just the wrong moment.

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• Use social rituals as tension points. Power and meaning hide in the smallest acts:

  • Who pours the tea?

  • Who answers the text message first?

  • Who dominates the dinner conversation, and who quietly wins it?

  • Who makes the guest list, and who has to ask if they’re invited?

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• Contrast characters through their speech. Give one character clipped, formal phrasing and another a flurry of run-ons. Use hesitations, interruptions, or even emojis/texts as subtext. What’s unsaid can be louder than what’s said.

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• Situate your drama in the everyday. A car ride, a college seminar, a family brunch, a workplace Slack channel — these are the modern equivalents of Austen’s drawing rooms. The setting should feel controlled but emotionally charged.

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• Let irony bloom slowly. Instead of opening with an obvious joke, start sincere. Then reveal, little by little, that things aren’t quite what they seem. The best satire walks a fine line between admiration and critique.

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• Keep it short, but complete. Your entry should feel like the first chapter of a novel we want to keep reading. By the end of it, we should know whose world this is — and who might eventually upend it.

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