June 2001 Best Openings Contest Results
The June BOC Results are in! Comments will follow later (as soon as I've scooped up the liquified contents of my brain) to the message board and then to the library.
blinkblink ANOTHER Tie for first this month, folks!
Let's hear it for our monthly winners, none other than the fabulously talented BJ Galler-Smith and Sophia Ahmed for tying for first! And congrats to Lynn Fernandez for snagging second place. And finally, a round of applause for everyone who entered or voted. Huzzah!!! the crowd roars its approval
The point totals: Title Author 1st 2nd 3rd GS Voted? Total Points Dragon Bones BJ Galler Smith 3 0 1 5 Y 23 Untitled #2 Sophia Ahmed 3 0 1 5 Y 23 Lynn Fernandez Ivyland 1 2 1 5 Y 21 The Babel Plague Mark Rudden 1 2 0 4 Y 18 The Human Kind Bill Allan 0 2 3 4 Y 18 Midnight Sun Josh Langston 2 1 0 3 Y 17 Elizabeth Micha Moeders 1 1 0 4 Y 16 Choices Deb Dunkerton 0 0 2 4 Y 13 Untitled #1 Tylyn Ryan 0 2 1 4 N 13 A Meeting Giedi 0 1 2 3 N 10 Prisoner of Zelda Derek Paterson 1 0 1 1 Y 9 Possession of Twilight Karen Hayes 0 1 0 1 Y 7 Dangerous Dan Phyllis Davis 0 0 0 2 Y 7 60 Pounds Sid Gittler 0 0 0 1 Y 5Lis,
Your BOC Adminatrix
Index A Meeting - Giedi
The Babel Plague - Mark Rudden
Choices - Deb Dunkerton
Dangerous Dan - Phyllis Davis
Dragon Bones - Barb Galler-Smith
Elizabeth - Micha Moeders
The Human Kind - Bill Allan
Ivyland - Lynn Fernandez
Midnight Sun, Midnight Daughter - Josh Langston
The Possession of Twilight - Karen Hayes
The Prisoner of Zelda - Derek Paterson
60 pounds on 60 inches - Sid Gittler
Untitled #1 - Tylyn Ryan
Untitled #2 - Sophia Ahmed
A Meeting - Giedi
Fenris, hastening along the avenue, glanced up and saw moonlight flash through the trees. If the moonlight touched him tonight, he worriedly thought, he would become a bestial creature, an enormous thing of crushing strength and feral guile. He would become what he always became after being bitten thirteen years ago, a Gangrel. He cursed Lord Karkorum for such strange requests. No, he thought, as he revived the memory, he was commanded to obey. He was told to go to a particular spot and wait, just simply wait, and then head home. That was all. Why? He cursed in frustration, knowing that anyone he met tonight would be seriously injured, if not killed. He uttered a heartfelt prayer for any unfortunate human caught in his path tonight.
He saw his moon shadow as he rushed through the dark, tree-lined, alleys of the baazar. Too late, he swore. He gritted his
[150 words] teeth in frustration as he began to change and grow both taller and broader. Already he could feel the anger and bloodlust surging like bile in his throat. A feral glee took over and an overwhelming desire for human flesh flooded through him.
He smelled a human, a delicious salty human, an aroma that drew him toward a tree filled concourse, far from where he should have been. The human gleamed in his eyes against the dark background of the shadowy trees. He salivated. Yes, he thought! Food. He sprinted forward, accelerating at an unbelievable speed. The human was but an arms length away, when a streak of blue snatched his food from his sight. But his sense of smell was keener, and he smelled the quickly fading human scent trail, which lead behind the trees to a strange pale woman.
It was a woman who held his prey.COMMENTS:
1. A Meeting—Familiar stuff, but interesting anyway, and I would read on to see if anything unexpected happened soon. Third.—SA
2. Initially, the prose and the situation is a bit of a melodramatic cliche, standard werewolf stuff."Worriedly?" Is that a word? How about "anxiously"? Gets a bit better in the second half, with that unexpected intervention. I love the smell of a "salty human!" No vote, though, sorry. - KH
3. This one could easily be tweaked into a solid story opening; as it stands, camera wobbles and focus is lost as author starts tossing all kinds of info into the pot too early. -DP
4. >> Fenris, hastening along the avenue, glanced up and saw moonlight flash through the trees. If the moonlight touched him tonight, he worriedly thought, he would become a bestial creature,<<
How could he see the moonlight flash through the trees without it touching him? I've been told that all "LY" words shouldn't be used, and in this case I can see why. It stands to reason that if the moonlight touches him he would turn into a beast that he would be worried about the moonlight touching him. Also, why say if the moonlight touched him tonight? If it had been yesterday or tomorrow would it have not had the same effect? If the problem is a full moon, then say, "If the full moon's light touched him he would turn into a bestial creature."
>>He saw his 1.moon shadow as he rushed through the dark, tree-lined, alleys of the 2.baazar. Too late, 3.he swore. He gritted his <<
Is it really necessary to say moon shadow? It is night, he has looked up and seen the moon, so it stands to reason that the moon is causing the shadow. Therefore it is necessary only to say shadow. Baazar should be spelled bazaar. There are two spaces between he and swore.
>>. But his sense of smell was keener, and he smelled the quickly fading human scent trail, which lead behind the trees to a strange pale woman. It was a woman who held his prey.<<
Why doesn't he smell the strange pale woman? Is that what makes her strange she doesn't have a smell? If his sense of smell is keener, there should be some awareness of the pale woman's scent. It could be tantalizing making him forget the juicy human, or so bitter that it turns his stomach, which also could make him forget about the juicy human prey. PD
5. A Meeting—Fails first pass. Too much telling. Last sentence in first graf is redundant—not good for the first power position in a short story. Too many he "verbed" constructions. Also, eight stative verbs in the first 150 words is way too many. Sorry, no vote. —Josh
6. A Meeting - feel like a werewolf story. Well we have character conflict and setting.
<< he worriedly thought,>> Don't like the worriedly <<became after being bitten thirteen years ago, a Gangrel. >> sorry not a werewolf story but a vampire. Hmmm or is that a werevampire?
Doesn't appeal enough for me to continue to read. LF
7. <Part 1: Nicely engaging, I'll read more. (nit: my spell checker says it's spelled bazaar, not baazar)—MR> <Part 2: Well done, I'm drawn into the story and want to read more.—MR>
8. A Meeting Gold Star, 2nd place
>> Fenris, hastening along the avenue, glanced up and saw moonlight flash through the trees. <<
You can get rid of the 'ing' ending by altering the sentence to read: Fenris glanced up and saw moonlight flash through the trees as he hastened along the avenue.
>> He cursed Lord Karkorum for such strange requests <<
I would have used this to start a new graf. As it read I had to stop and re-read the passage to make sure what was being cursed.
>>He was told to go to a particular spot and wait<<
You're being too vague by using only a 'particular spot'. If the spot was near the fountain of life or something, say so.
>>Why? He cursed in frustration, knowing that anyone he met tonight would be seriously injured, if not killed.>>
Bit of a minor nit, if he hasn't transformed yet, why would anyone automatically be endangered?
>> He saw his moon shadow as he rushed<<
You might want to start with his name here, to break up the number of times you start the sentence with 'he'.
>>Baazar<<
Double 'a' belongs after the 'z' not before. Bazaar.
>>He smelled a human, a delicious salty human, an aroma that drew him toward a tree filled concourse, far from where he should have been<<
I like this description. I probably would have altered it a bit to read: He smelled a human, a delicious salty human. The faint (or delicate, or something) aroma drew him toward a tree filled concourse, far from where he should have been.
>>He salivated. Yes, he thought! Food. <<
You can make this much more powerful by starting a new graf with this.
Fenris salivated.
Yes, he thought. Food!
>> But his sense of smell was keener, and he smelled the quickly fading human scent trail, which lead behind the trees to a strange pale woman. <<
This just doesn't feel right. I'm not sure if I like this better or not but think about 'Lifting his nose to the night, Fenris caught the quickly fading scent of his prey's trail. It lead him behind the trees to a pale stranger.
Fenris was shocked; it was a woman who held his prey.
I liked this entry, and would have read on. Its only drawbacks appear to be that it's suffering from a case of being written to quickly to make it flow as well as it could. Micha
9. A Meeting: Well-written, somewhat interesting entry. Though the POVC, called a "gangrel" here, is perhaps a little too close to the guilt-ridden werewolf of many previous tales, I'd stay with it a while. Third Place. Bill
10. A Meeting —GS—A good effort with an interesting idea which lost ground because of loose and inactive prose. This could use some tightening and be improved very much by the simple elimination of unnecessary words. I had some comments throughout which follow. (BJ)
>>Fenris, << This is the name of the wolf in Norse legend—the harbinger of Ragnarok. Perhaps choose another name?
>>...glanced up and saw moonlight flash through the trees. If the moonlight touched him tonight,<< I figure if he can see the moon, the moon can touch him.
>>Why? He cursed in frustration, knowing that anyone he met tonight would be seriously injured, if not killed. He uttered a heartfelt prayer for any unfortunate human caught in his path tonight. << Consider switching the order of these two sentences and make it very active—He prayed for those he encountered tonight—they would be killed.
>> alleys of the baazar. << Spelling: bazaar
>>Too late, he swore. << Too late isn't a swear.
>> He gritted his [150 words] teeth in frustration as he began to change and grow both taller and broader. << Streamline: He began to grow taller and broader.
>>Already he could feel the anger and bloodlust << Bloodlust and anger are good. They're strong. Make the verb agree... He felt the anger...>>He smelled a human, a delicious salty human, an aroma that drew him toward a tree filled concourse, far from where he should have been.<< Run-on sentence. Consider: He smelled a delicious salty human, and the aroma drew him toward a tree-filled concourse far from where he should have been.
>>The human gleamed in his eyes against the dark background of the shadowy trees.<< Antecedent—a human gleams against the dark background? How?
>>He salivated. Yes, he thought! Food.<< delete Yes, he thought!
>>... accelerating at an unbelievable speed. << Unbelievable to whom? He should be used to it.
>>The human was but an arms length away,<< arm's
>>It was a woman who held his prey. << Change from passive to active. A woman held his prey.
11. Nope, sorry. Too many werewolf variations out there. No vote. - Deb
The Babel Plague - Mark Rudden
Achoo! "Wid all our techdology, you'd tink we could fide a cure for duh common cold." Jaz sniffled and blew his nose as he grumbled.
"Go find a Medtech and have them give you something for the symptoms, at least," Simmons said.
"Dey already did." The med-spray had reduced his headache to a dull thudding pain in back of his head and made it possible for Jaz to at least report for duty today. He had been among the first in the dig to enter CY5-36, the largest chamber in the middle of the Cygni 5 ruined city dubbed Babel by its discoverers.
"Then get your lazy ass in gear and catalog those samples!"
"Wad did you say?"
"Hmm? I didn't say anything, Jaz." Simmons cocked her head as Jaz frowned at her.
Jaz rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Wimp."
Jaz looked up, but Simmons
[150 words] was peering into her data terminal, examining one of the samples they had brought back from CY5-36. He shrugged and got to work.
§
Though fatigued from her trip, Tanith scrolled through the patient's profile as she waited. Name, Aubrey "Jaz" Jascowitz, age twenty-five, junior archeologist with the Babel dig, etc, etc.... Jaz had been the first to exhibit any symptoms, which resembled a cold with a nasty headache. There was more to it, however, since the whole expedition was shut down when a sort of madness took hold of everyone. They'd returned to the ship and sedated themselves, setting the ship to auto-return to Sol through the nearest Gate and transmit a distress call. Contamination-suited medtechs brought Jascowitz into the isolation room. Through the window, Tanith saw his bloodshot eyes. He looks awful, she thought.
"Thanks, a lot, doc. You look like shit, too." he said out loud.COMMENTS:
1. The Babel Plague—The implied telepathy in the last sentence caught my interest immediately, and I wanted to know what happened next. On the second read through, I realised the author had implied it in the conversation between Jaz and Simmons earlier, but I'd missed it. It's obvious now, but on the first read that conversation left me confused about what was going on. Second part: Are Tanith and Simmons the same person? I thought at first they were, or that they should be. If they're not, and Tanith is a medtech, maybe the author could say so when Tanith is introduced. Referring to "contamination-suited medtechs" distanced her from them, in that I wasn't then sure if she was one of them, or a separate class of doctor. Finally, "medtech" is capitalised in the second sentence, but not thereafter. Overall: The suggestion that the strange madness gives the archaeologists the ability to read minds is a good hook, but to me this opening reads as if this hook is hinted at in the first part, and then confirmed in the second. Why not confirm it in the first part, and then get on with the story in the second?—SA
2. The whole first scene seems extraneous; I'd skip it and start right in with the second scene, where you have two main characters, the main problem, plus a suggestion of setting and some telepathic powers, all tidily established in a couple of paragraphs. Close but no vote. - KH
3. Liked the idea but the too-soon scene jump didn't help. More interaction between the characters (building the story around them instead of just using them as a snapshot example?) would have been nice. GS -DP
4. Word found nothing wrong with this opening and neither did I. In fact I really enjoyed it. PD
5. The Babel Plague—Makes first and second passes. Almost a complete story as is. Earns honorable mention. Might have finished higher, but the cold-based dialect turned me off. Sorry, no vote. —Josh
6. The Babel Plague - Maybe I'd enjoy this more if I weren't suffering from severe allergies right now. Hmmmm okay conflict, no setting a little character. Too much talking.
Doesn't appeal enough for me to continue to read but I did just because it was there.
OIC maybe if the first 150 were an obvious epilog I might have continued to read or maybe the "epilog" needs to be dropped off and the story start here:
<<Though fatigued from her trip, "Thanks, a lot, doc. You look like shit, too." he said out loud.>> LOL now that was funny. LF
7. <Mine—MR>
8. The story concept interested me; the delivery for me fell a bit short. I'm not even sure why I didn't like the split since I've used them myself in stories, but this one just didn't work for me, sorry. Micha
9. The Babel Plague: Clever opening, but psychic humor is not my bag. Bill
10. The Babel Plague —SECOND —GS—Kept my interest all the way through and moved along with a nice pace. Needs a setting and the telepathy in the first part just misses—I thought there was something wrong with his hearing. Try italics for Simmons' lines as you did with the doctor. The remarks about him being first in the dig is irrelevant at that point—save it for later. (BJ)
11. This is really good. Second - Gold star. Is there more? - Deb
Choices - Deb Dunkerton
Adenine winced as the rough stone scraped against her bloody fingertips. Working by feel in the pitch black dark, she probed deeper into the crumbly mortar surrounding the block of stone. Deciding she had removed all she could, she began to wriggle the block loose.
The knee she had braced against the stone wall had long since lost all feeling, and the leg balancing on the thin tree branch was an agony of cramp, but she dared not move. If the monks above even heard a whisper she would be dead in seconds. Suddenly, the block loosened. Overbalancing, and arms flailing wildly, she fell out of the tree and landed with a resounding "thwump" in the soft mud below. She froze, half stunned, listening for the sound of running feet.
When no sound came she climbed cautiously out of the mud and felt for the stone. She frantically brushed off
[150 words] the remaining mortar, nothing! Cursing softly she threw it to the ground and began to climb the tree.
As she felt along the stonewall for the place the stone had come from she realized she could just see her hands, dawn! Haste made her incautious, and she slipped and cracked her shin painfully. Gritting her teeth she braced herself against the wall and reached inside the hole left by the stone. Something soft and papery brushed against her hand. Banishing images of cockroaches and spiders from her mind, she extended her arm and gripped what felt like a dry leaf between the tips of her fingers.
Her heart began to thump. It was a tiny, tightly wrapped scroll. Carefully she held it up to the brightening dawn:Soldier, maiden, poet, fool
One to die, one to rule
One to sorrow, one to haste
One will lay the world to wasteCOMMENTS:
1. Choices—Started to run into problems after "When no sound came..." I would have liked to read something about panic seizing her at that point. "She frantically brushed off the remaining mortar, nothing!" doesn't make sense. Cursing, even softly, and then throwing a block of stone onto the ground, when earlier she had been trying to avoid even a whisper of sound, seems dangerously risky. "As she felt...her hands, dawn!" also doesn't make sense. These two quoted sentences made me think that the author hadn't checked through the opening before submitting it, and it threw me right out of the story I'm afraid.—SA
2. Solid stuff, a good narrative voice and an exciting situation (though outside the constraints of this contest, I'd need to know more about the character and her mission, before I'm plunged into the middle of things like this). The prophetic rhyme is compelling enough that I'm ready to read a lot more to learn what it's about. Reminds me of the rhyme in Susan Cooper's The Dark Is Rising. Gold Star, just missed third place - KH
3. I'd suggest author starts the story just a few minutes earlier, when Adenine enters this place, slips past the guards (or the monks) and climbs the tree. I hope she solves the riddle and wins the prize (a Carribean cruise, maybe?). -DP
4. >>Adenine winced as the rough stone scraped against her bloody fingertips. Working by feel in the pitch black dark,<<
If it is pitch black dark, then how does she know her fingertips are bloody? Scraped raw, maybe, but bloody? If she can feel the blood running up/down her arm and it drips off her elbow, or puddles up in her armpit, then you could say bloody, but if that's the case then say so.
>> If the monks above even heard a whisper she would be dead in seconds. Suddenly, the block loosened. Overbalancing, and arms flailing wildly, she fell out of the tree and landed with a resounding "thwump" in the soft mud below.<<
Aw come on now. Either the monks can hear a whisper or they are totally deaf and can't hear a resounding "thwump". But you can't have it both ways.
>>When no sound came she climbed cautiously out of the mud<<
What kind of mud is this? Is it just a mud puddle, or is it a lake of mud, or is it perhaps a box of mud? I mean get serious how can she climb out of the mud? I could go for crawl or even drag, but not climb.
>>! Haste made her incautious, and she slipped and cracked her shin painfully.<<
You don't need to say cracked her shin painfully. Anyone who has ever cracked their shin knows it's painful. So just say she slipped and cracked her shin.
>>Her heart began to thump. It was a tiny, tightly wrapped scroll. Carefully she held it up to the brightening dawn: Soldier, maiden, poet, fool, One to die, one to rule, One to sorrow, one to haste, One will lay the world to waste<<
I like the poem, but tell me how she managed to read it in the brightening dawn when it was tightly wrapped. She is in a hurry so she won't be detected by the monks, but she can take the time to read a scroll? If she was remembering the words from a lesson she had received back home, then that should be mentioned. Or if she has some mental power so that she can read the tightly wrapped scroll that should be mentioned. PD
5. Choices—Makes first pass despite the cliche' in sentence two. Suggest changing "the block loosened" to "the block came free." Makes second pass although this reader smiled at how quickly the sun rises in this world. GS. Finishes third. —Josh
6. Choices Okay we got setting, we got conflict, we got character. Good descriptions! Give it a 3rd and a gold star.
<<It was a tiny, tightly wrapped scroll. Carefully she held it up to the brightening dawn:
Soldier, maiden, poet, fool
One to die, one to rule
One to sorrow, one to haste
One will lay the world to waste>>Interesting but almost familiar. However I think I'd like to see more. LF
7. <Part 1: She's in a tree, and yet the monks are above her? I don't have a clear picture of the scene, and it's hard to get involved with it. I'll stay with it, though, to see if it improves.—MR> <Part 2: Her fingertips are bloody, yet she feels the dry leaf with them? These gaffes mar an otherwise interesting opening.—MR>
8. >>Working by feel in the pitch black dark<<
Dark is redundant. You can get rid of an ing by altering the sentence structure. She worked by touch in the pitch-black night. Her fingers probed etc…
>> If the monks above even heard a whisper she would be dead in seconds.<<
Later in the opening, you have her 'throwing the stone to the ground' and 'cursing softly' if she is in fear from the monks for even a whisper of sound, why would she do either of those things?
>>Her heart began to thump<<
To close to the thwump she made hitting the ground. Try pound, beat harder, or something.
Awkwardly worded and laced with an overabundance of ing and ly endings this opening failed to meet its potential. Though an interesting concept, it needs to be cleaned up before it will keep my interest. The poem ending seemed to come out of nowhere and had little to do with the opening that I could see. (on an aside, does au. listen to Billie Meyers?) Work on this one and you will have something. Micha
9. Choices: Took a bit too long to get to that scroll. <G> Bill
10. Choices —GS—I wondered who the POVC was, what is she doing and why and where is she? This had a lot of little punctuation errors that need tweaking. I wanted more setting. Night outside isn't pitch black and there are plenty of sounds and smells. Some tense awkwardness in the second paragraph. In spite of a lot of little things, I felt a nice conflict about to happen and I would have read on. This sounds like a story worth finishing. One major nit—adenine is a DNA nucleotide. Pick a new name for your character, please. (BJ)
11. Mine - as usual I notice all the errors after I upload the damn thing. - Deb
Dangerous Dan - Phyllis Davis
In ‘338 we met at Minerva's Bar and Grill out in Helioport to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the greatest feat of mining ever recorded. Old John was there and so was young John for that matter. We all looked for dangerous Dan, but he was nowhere to be seen.
"Dan! You sorry son of a Stroids hopper! Where are you hiding?" Old John roared and his voice was faintly reminiscent of the explosion that nearly ruined all our lives.
Back then Dangerous Dan had been our tamper and old John our setter, while young John was our gofer. All day Dan and old John had been setting and tamping charges in the Stroids. All of us were getting ready to call it a day, even Young John who'd been kept hopping all day long, but fate had something else in store for us.
Of course there wasn't any sound
[150 words] out there in the Stroids, but the impact of the explosion was still deadly enough if you were too close to it. Dangerous Dan and old John was both too close, how they lived through it nobody knows. John had set the charge, and started away to set the last charge of the day, and Dan the fastest tamper in the business moved in behind him and started tamping down the plug.
There was a blinding flash of light. We all turned toward the flash just in time to see old John make his death-defying leap to rescue Dan if there was anything left to rescue.
Dan was wrapped in dust-covered shrouds You never see dust out in the Stroids and when you do it's always too late to save yourself. Old John never gave that a thought he just snatched those dust-covered shrouds and towed him to safety.COMMENTS:
1. Dangerous Dan—Was this anecdote the "greatest feat of mining ever recorded" referred to in the first sentence? It doesn't seem like a feat, more an accident, but if it wasn't, then why was it told? The opening lines were great, I thought, but after that, the writing went a little downhill: In the second part, "Dangerous Dan and old John was both too close" should be "...were too close". There was some missing punctuation in the sentence beginning, "We all turned..." and also in the final sentence. I didn't understand the significance of the dust-covered shrouds, or where they came from, and was confused about how Old John could tow Dan. I assume the miners are 'space-walking' on the asteroid's surface, but the author doesn't say.—SA
2. Fun! The narrator's way of speaking conveys, all by itself, a whole working class miner culture and some humor, and there's plenty of interest in the story, remembering that big explosion. "You never see dust and if you do, it's too late"—nice touch! I want to find out how they survived, and why Dan isn't at the reunion. One little quibble: who's the narrator? Gold star, just missed third place. - KH
3. I'd prefer to see this live instead of as flashback historic telling, which comes over as a kind of outline rather than the real story with real characters. -DP
4. Mine PD
5. Dangerous Dan—Fails first pass. Eleven stative verbs in the first 150 words is probably a record. Sorry, no vote. —Josh
6. Dangerous Dan Okay CC&S. Nice tone. Sorta western meets outerspace. Not my kind of story but still good enough to recognize 4th place. LF
7. <Part 1: Slightly interesting, but not enough to hold me. Sorry.—MR>
8. Dangerous Dan - Reminded me of a ringer we had a few months ago with the line 'you cant kick a dog around proper in one-hundred sixty acres'. Very fifties tone to this entry. Micha
9. Dangerous Dan: Not enough hook for this reader. Sorry. Bill
10. Dangerous Dan —GS— This one needed a clear POV character, s sense of place/mood (setting), and some hint of conflict about to come. Nothing happened. The sequence of events is a little ragged and the dust-covered shroud image, though repeated, lost me. What kind of shroud was Dan wearing? Sorry. (BJ)
11. Yep, this Is ok. I kept reading past the 150 mark. I had this impression of sitting listening to a crusty old man by a crackling log fire. - Deb
Dragon Bones - Barb Galler-Smith
Ming Li Jones leaned over her textbook so she'd be closer to her roommate. "Can you imagine people still believe fossilized dinosaur bones belong to dragons?" she said, keeping her voice conspiratorial. Quiet pervaded the University library. With exams coming up, no one needed a librarian to shush them.
Carol Yeung smiled. "Ancient Chinese thought they were. What's weirder is how modern herbalists grind 'em up for potions. Dragons don't appeal to me. Too big and too loud."
"I like them," Ming said. "Especially Chinese dragons." She grew quiet. She'd probably know more about dragons if her mom was still alive. Neither she nor her father had ever been to China. "I'd like to visit China someday."
"Me, too," Carol said. "Everybody in my family was born here, and only my grandmother still speaks Chinese at home. Nobody answers her in Chinese anymore, not even Grandfather."
"Yeah, I guess things
[150 words] change."
"Some things don't. We still eat everything with chopsticks!"
The two students giggled.
An old Chinese woman shuffled across the library study room and sat directly opposite them. The tiny woman seemed indeterminately old; she might have been seventy, or ninety. In her black baggy pants and old-fashioned black jacket that fastened at the throat with an elaborate braided knot, and her bare feet in open heeled woven sandals, she needed only a large conical hat to appear a rice planter from the southern provinces.
She spoke softly, in Mandarin, and her gaze locked onto Ming.
Ming smiled self-consciously. "I'm sorry, I don't speak Chinese."
The woman shook her head sadly. "Dragon bones."
Ming stared at the woman. "How did you know we were talking about...."
"Dragon bones," the woman said again. She teetered to her feet and wagged a thin finger at the girls. "Come."COMMENTS:
1. Dragon Bones—I liked this a lot up until the appearance of the old woman, after which the story did nothing for me. Author went from an enjoyable, natural-sounding conversation, to something that came across to me as forced and a little clichéd. Definite Gold Star, but disappointing second half. — SA
2. Not bad. The girls' conversation is realistic, if not spellbinding, and the old woman's mysterious and timely invitation would keep me reading, at least for a little while longer. Small quibble: introducing both characters by their full names right off is a bit amateurish; it says, "See, I'm introducing my characters!" - KH
3. Nicely done, but pace would have to increase quickly to keep my interest. GS -DP
4. I like this opening. I'm partial to dinosaurs/dragons or if you prefer dragons/dinosaurs. It's intriguing and I don't remember ever reading anything even remotely like it before. PD
5. Dragon Bones—Makes first and second passes with ease. I really like the hook, btw. GS. Finishes first. —Josh
6. Dragon Bones Let's see Character and setting and maybe conflict but it doesn't entice me to read on. LF
7. <Part 1: Not a real grabber.—MR> <Part 2: I peeked ahead to the second 150, even though I wouldn't in a normal read. I like the second part better than the first, and I suggest you move the old lady part up closer to the beginning, where it can do it's job and pull the reader in. Then do the background stuff.—MR>
8. Dragon Bones Gold Star 1st place
Caught and held my interest. I'd like to read more! Micha
9. Dragon Bones: Okay, I don't usually go for dragon stories, but this one is starting out with originality. First Place. Bill
10. Dragon Bones —A old idea I liked, but haven't the foggiest notion of where it's going. (BJ)
11. Hmm, nice hook at the end. Kept my interest past 150. - Deb
Elizabeth - Micha Moeders
Maggie squared her shoulders and strode forward. She ignored taunts thrown by those who mocked back-car riders of the subway.
Her humiliation grew with each trip into Manhattan. But business was business, and Maggie had a living to earn, pitiful as it was. As she stepped around a protester, his sign accidentally knocked her into the train. She apologized for the foot she trod upon, then sank onto the first available seat.
Maggie gazed around the crowded car with thoughtful brown eyes. No one other than herself appeared to be bothered by the egg throwing protesters. Their vicious sneers about freaks and abominations made her shudder.
The doors began to inch shut as the woman Maggie usually shared a seat with ran for the train. "Hurry, Elizabeth," she whispered.
Elizabeth almost made it, but a protester jabbed a finger at her.
"This one! It's this one," he yelled.
The same
[150 words] protester who had shoved her bashed his sign into Elizabeth's head. Blood splattered over the subway windows at the same moment the petite woman toppled onto the sidewalk.
Maggie jumped from her seat and ran for the closing doors. They slammed shut, momentarily crushing her fingers until safety features kicked in and released her.
A gasp burst from Maggie's lips, as the train crept from the platform. Before her eyes, Elizabeth was beaten in front of police, who did nothing more than scan the dead woman's tattoo and walk away.
Tears, the first of her short life, stung her eyes. This was the curse of her kind, beings without rights or freewill.
Only yesterday, Elizabeth had said, "Polite society calls us servants, but those who comprise polite society are not the ones being killed as abominations. Only the politically correct call us what we are. Clones."
Now Elizabeth lay dead.COMMENTS:
1. Elizabeth—It was never explained what a "back-car rider" was. Either it's just me who doesn't know this, or it's explained later, but I wanted to know now...Had Elizabeth made her statement about clones in a public speech, or in a private conversation with Maggie? This opening is interesting, but I really wanted some hint about why this society is so extremely anti-clones. Gold Star, Second.—SA
2. This ought to be a compelling situation, but it just doesn't grab me, perhaps because I don't know enough about either of the characters to care about Elizabeth's brutal death. When that's capped by her remembered statement about servants and clones, the whole thing just turns moralistic. No vote, sorry. - KH
3. I got the impression this opening was the complete story, a short-short that should have finished with, "The End". Some hint of what's coming next or where we're going would have been nice. - DP
4. I don't know what kind of sympathetic feeling you are attempting to evoke, but it didn't work. Subway cars just aren't buses. You might get away with one car reserved for clones, and it could be the last car or the middle car or even the first car. But the back of the subway just doesn't get anywhere. When they get to the end of the line, do all the passengers have to switch cars, so they will maintain their position when the subway starts going the other direction?
I can understand the feeling of being oppressed, and downtrodden, but the back of the subway has got to go!
I would also like to know what kind of a hero you can make out of a dead woman? Or is she supposed to be their martyr? PD
5. Elizabeth—Makes first and second passes. Written well enough, but the theme seems a little tired. GS, but sorry, no vote. —Josh
6. Elizabeth I think I've seen too many of this type of story about prejudice. Doesn't stand out in the crowd. LF
7. <Part 1: So far, so good, I'm drawn in to find out why these folks are being mocked.—MR> <Part 2: Clones as second class citizens has been done before; you'll have to have something unique to make this story stand out.—MR>
8. Elizabeth Mine.
9. Elizabeth: Not bad, but I'll pass on clones this time around. Bill
10. Elizabeth —GS— The POV character was good, but the real conflict wasn't hinted at. I think the murder was good—but over too quickly. Title needs work as a story probably isn't about a character dead in the first 200 words. Some things perplexed me. What's with all the mayhem? Why was Elizabeth the "one" and not Maggie? Why have clones if you're just gonna allow mobs to kill them? Seems too expensive a venture. And as for servants, what about al the poor immigrant people who traditionally fill servant roles? Clones as non-humans is also a notion that won't hold up in court—even today. A cloned sheep is still a sheep and a cloned human should still be a human. I found the premise hard to believe. Needs some work in keeping the prose active. One aside: Maggie gazed around the crowded car with thoughtful brown eyes. Characters don't usually refer to their own eyes. Sorry, this just didn't work for me.(BJ)
11. I liked this one, well written and caught my interest. First place - Gold star. - Deb
The Human Kind - Bill Allan
The stranger opened up Sam's belly with a skinning knife and rooted around with the point for a while. Then Ned heard him muttering.
"Where's your secondary heart, huh? Where's your goddamn number-two heart?"
Ned crouched eight feet above, in a makeshift tree stand, trying not to breathe, trying not to puke. For the first time in his adult life he wished he'd gone hunting with a gun instead of a camera. The breeze died, and a coppery smell rose to him from the forest floor.
After another minute of crude dissection, the stranger wiped his blade on Sam's jeans and stood, still looking down at the corpse.
"Sorry, pal," he said. "I guess you weren't one of them after all." He slipped the knife into a belt sheath.
Ned considered jumping down on him. Maybe he could stun the stranger long enough to gain the upper hand. But just
[150 words] then the big man picked up the shotgun he'd used on Sam, and Ned lost his nerve. His only chance was to stay motionless and perfectly quiet.
"Now, you, in the tree. You can climb down on your own, or I'll bring you down. With this." The stranger raised the gun.
Ned felt the skinning knife, wickedly sharp, jabbing around inside his own abdomen.
"Don't kill me. Please. I'm only taking pictures." He straightened and held the camera out with trembling hands.
The eyes in the weathered, blood-streaked face below delivered a steady glare.
"You climb down like I said and we'll see about that. But one way or another, I'm gonna find out who's who in these woods."
Madman
Ned didn't want to die like this, butchered like his friend. Knees shaking, he stepped down off the flimsy platform onto a lower branch and prayed for a miracle.COMMENTS:
1. The Human Kind—One quibble is the "Madman" line. Is this Ned's thought about the stranger? It was a little unclear. Perhaps we could see the stranger look up as he starts to speak to Ned. Also, perhaps add something at the beginning about Ned being frozen with fear maybe, as I wondered why Ned didn't jump the stranger while he was gutting Sam...—SA
2. Wham! That's quite an opening! Well done, well written, with plenty of realistic detail and no more gore than necessary. And I really want to know what happens next! Though its in medias res, the situation is at least clear enough to follow along for a bit, though I'll want to know a lot more about how Ned got in this situation, as soon as possible. Gold Star, second place - KH
3. Methinks this one starts too abruptly, throwing characters into a scene without foresetting. It's eye-catching (THIRD PLACE and GS) but it doesn't have any legs to stand on. -DP
4. Word didn't have a problem with this opening, but I'm not so sure that I don't. I wondered about the Madman near the end. Since the story is or seems to be being told by Ned, then was it Ned's thought? I realize there's a word constraint, but it would have been better if it had been worded: He's a madman. Then you could lose a couple of words somewhere else. PD
5. The Human Kind—Makes first and second passes. GS. Finishes second. —Josh
6. The Human Kind Ewwww. I hate things that start up with violence. LF
7. <Part 1: THIRD PLACE Interesting, I'll read more.—MR> <Part 2: Good job, I want to read the rest.—MR>
8. I'm not sure why the 'stranger' would kill people at random without knowing for sure if they were what he was after or not, but it didn't interest me enough to read on and find out. <shrugs> Micha
9. The Human Kind: My modest offering.
10. he Human Kind—Honourable Mention —GS— Needs some setting in a hurry and the prose is a bit choppy. Otherwise I liked it. This just misses. (BJ)
11. This one made me do a double take. I wrote something just like this about 10 years ago. Very good - Third place. - Deb
Ivyland - Lynn Fernandez
My horse was dead. He'd carried me four days into the desert. I didn't know that there would be endless sand-no water, no grass, for four days. No one had told me.
I bled him one last time before the blood congealed. It was probably the last I would eat for days . . . forever, maybe. I left the saddle and bridle, taking only my bedroll, sword and 2 water skins. One was empty. The other had only a few mouthfuls of water left.
My white burnoose protected me from the sun and sand as I trudged northward. There was a dark spot in the sky. Vultures, probably coming to pick the flesh off my horse.
I felt a rush of wind, wings beating, feathers close to my face. I placed my arms around my head to protect my face from its talons but soft gentle hands touched my arms. Long fingers
[150 words] grasped my wrist.
"Quiet," it said. "I'm not going to hurt you."
I've lost my mind. The heat and sun have confused me. The wings stopped beating and I opened my eyes. On the sand before me was an eagle. It was buff color with copper eyes. It had no hands to touch me nor lips to speak. I shouldn't have heard it or felt it.
It took flight, circled overhead, then screeching began circling north. I think it wants me to follow.COMMENTS:
1. Ivyland—Not knowing about the desert being endless sand because no one had told him/her, didn't endear me to the protagonist. I wasn't sure why the protag bled the horse, and referred to the blood in terms of food. This may be just me being ignorant of what to do in a situation like this. I think the line, "I shouldn't have heard it or felt it" is unnecessary, as is the line before it. If the author is aiming to get across that the protag is questioning their sanity, perhaps they could instead ask themselves if they really did hear or feel what they thought they heard and felt, instead of emphasizing reasons why they couldn't have done so.—SA
2. Another wham opening. Good, realistic detail showing the hero's desperation, and a mysterious messenger. I definitely want to know more about why he or she is out there, and what's up with the eagle. Only the shifts from past to present tense are a little awkward. If the present tense sentences are internal monologue, maybe they should be italicized to set them apart from the past tense narrative? Gold star, third place - KH
3. First paragraph sounded a "Well, duh!" note, what did this character expect to find in a place called "the desert"—rivers and lakes? Tense seemed confused around/after the 150 words mark. Opening could have used some hint of why character is crossing the desert, but I wanted to find out what the birdie wanted (it made me think of Corwin talking to the raven in THE COURTS OF CHAOS). SECOND PLACE and GS. -DP
4. This is one of those openings that grow on you. I've read it three times now and can't find anything really wrong with it. I like the way the POV sees a dark spot in the sky and concludes it is vultures coming for the dead horse. That makes the sudden appearance of the eagle much more interesting. I hope that the reason soon becomes evident for the title. Endless sand and no water doesn't sound much like Ivyland to me.
>>. I didn't know that there would be endless sand-no water, no grass, for four days.<<
Having said that, in the second line it says sand-no. I've never seen those two words put together that way. If the problem is the need to get rid of one word, why not simply leave out the that? Then it would read, "I didn't know there would be endless sand, no water, no grass, for four days."
>> I think it wants me to follow.<<
I wouldn't even hesitate to follow. Pretty please, can you finish this one? PD
4. Ivyland—Makes first pass. Why doesn't the POVC put the horse's blood in the empty wine skin? Fails second pass. The writing is okay but not so strong that I'm compelled to read on. Sorry, no vote. —Josh
5. Ivyland Oh dear this one is mine and it has the usual Fernandez gaff (tm)
6. <Part 1: This was only slightly engaging until the last sentence, but now I'll read more.—MR> <Part 2: There's a tense change here, from past to present. Otherwise I might read more.—MR>
7. Ivyland
>>My horse was dead. He'd carried me four days into the desert. I didn't know that there would be endless sand-no water, no grass, for four days. No one had told me.<<
<Raises one eyebrow> did he think it would be a short ride to paradise? This really didn't work for me. I can't imagine anyone needing to be told that the desert was brutal.
Sorry, I didn't read much further. Micha
8. Ivyland: A tad too fantastic for me. Sorry. Bill
9. Ivyland —GS— I found the POV character hard to relate to. Why would he go into a desert without knowing the direction of water? Relying on other people isn't really what I'm looking for in the POVC. And I was miffed he didn't turn around or that he had a good reason for trying to cross. I couldn't believe he didn't watch the spot in the sky approach—there's not much else to look at. Watch the tense change at the end. This didn't work for me, but the talking eagle was intriguing. There's some real potential here for an interesting story. (BJ)
10. I had trouble focusing on this one, it changes from past to present tense - a personal pet hate. Sorry no vote. - Deb
Midnight Sun, Midnight Daughter - Josh Langston
Bestefar—Ira called the old fart, Gramp—was dead. Had to be. Flash-frozen most likely. A fartsickle. Ira wondered what the word was in Norwegian, or better yet, Sami? The reindeer people looked in on him from time to time and tossed a log or a handful of dried deer crap on his fire, but rarely said anything he understood. They were probably just curious about when he'd die and give up the primitive hut he'd occupied alone for the past three days. Four, maybe? Five? It was hard to tell when night dragged on for 23 hours, and sleeping through the few miserable minutes of gray they called noon, middag, was so easy.
Welcome to the top of the world, he thought, where people used reindeer for everything, even calendars. When the reindeer got knocked up, it was spring. When they squeezed out babies, it was summer. When they
[150 words] bitched about pasturage, it was fall. And winter... Well, that never came as a surprise to anyone.
Still weak from a fever he blamed on the antlered assholes, Ira crawled to Gramp's "pantry," an ancient footlocker crammed into a corner of the hut. He examined the Norsk labels of the few remaining cans, praying for a previously unseen photo or cartoon—anything to identify the contents.
Selecting the heaviest can, he punched a hole in the top and settled it in the coals to cook. With any luck it wouldn't kill him. The thought brought him back to Gramp. What if he really was dead? Would Ira be stuck with the Sami until spring? How the hell would he get home? As he pondered his predicament, the door to the hut exploded in a spray of splintered wood, and a body wrapped in reindeer hide crashed to the dirt floor.COMMENTS:
1. Midnight Sun, Midnight Daughter—Good, apart from the opening lines, which nearly put me right off the story. The very first sentence was confusing. I don't think the question beginning, "Ira wondered..." is actually a question, and so shouldn't have a question mark. After that, the writing got much better, and the ending left me wanting more. Gold Star, First.—SA
2. A narrator in a really bad mood! Very well written, though I admit I don't see any speculative element yet, and I'm not sure I like Ira; his complaints make him seem pretty self-centered. Gold Star. - KH
3. Undoubtedly there's good storytelling skill at work here, but the easygoing 1st person approach angle just didn't appeal to me. By the time I'd reached the hook, I was ready to leave. -DP
4. I've about halfway decided that I don't like this man. He is crude and would no doubt be rude in ‘polite' company. I wish the story had managed to get to the "Midnight Daughter", or is that who crashed through the door? I liked the idea of using the reindeer for a calendar. Sounds like the way it would really be. My main complaint I suppose is the one Derek is always harping on with my stories, there doesn't appear to be a SF or Fantasy bent to the opening. Or did I miss something altogether? PD
5. Midnight Sun, Midnight Daughter—Shoot the author. Quickly. - Josh
6. Midnight Sun, Midnight Daughter <sigh> Just a little too much for delicate me. Although I think the tone, css are very good. LF
7. <Part 1: SECOND PLACE First sentence is confusing, and I had to read it several times, which is bad. OTOH, I like the light tone, and I'll read further.—MR> <Part 2: I like it, and would read more.—MR>
8. Midnight Sun, Midnight Daughter
>>Bestefar—Ira called the old fart, Gramp—was dead. Had to be. Flash-frozen most likely. A fartsickle.<<
After reading this line three times trying to figure out what was happening I gave up and went to the next entry. I did make an effort to go back to it, but no dice. Sorry. Micha
9. Midnight Sun, Midnight Daughter: Not at all sure where this one's going yet. Bill
10. Midnight Sun, Midnight Daughter— FIRST—GS— Not sure what the title means, though it did provoke a smile. Good character and sense of conflict though the setting was a little weak. This got votes because it moved along quickly, made no writing mistakes, and held my interest. The seasons felt wrong, though since ungulates usually breed in the fall and the young are born in the spring. (BJ)
11. Sorry lost me before 150 - no vote. - Deb
The Possession of Twilight - Karen Hayes
By the time the kargat player reached the river, he knew his pursuer was close behind. He might have a few hours, perhaps even until tomorrow sunrise, but no more. Somewhere across the ford was a village, hidden by the trees that lined the river bank. A good sized village: the kargat player could hear with his Inner hearing, the whisper of many minds, like the rustle of wind in distant trees. If he could reach that village before sunset, he could make a stand there.
He urged his tired horse into the murky water. The current, sluggish and discouraged in the heat of the dry season, made barely an eddy around the horse's knees. The horse stumbled, and the kargat player steadied it with legs and hands, then drove it forward. Ahead, the sun was already behind the trees and dropping fast. Too fast.
The horse stumbled again in
[150 words] the mud of the farther bank, and the kargat player lashed it with the ends of his reins. It trotted up the bank and out of the trees, then dropped back into its exhausted walk.
Just to the left, a straight line of huge and ancient featherbark trees marched across the plain toward the lowering sun, marking the course of an irrigation canal. The kargat player squinted along the line of trees. Far away, and small against the sunset, it thickened into the clumped silhouette of a wide grove. The village would be under that grove. If he could reach it before the sun touched the horizon, and win the right to hold kargat there, he might yet turn the balance against his pursuer. A long three miles. His horse would never make it in time, not with the normal mental and physical urgings of the horseman.COMMENTS:
1. The Possession of Twilight—It would be nice to have the protagonist referred to as something other than "the kargat player" all the time. This opening is a bit dry. I would like to see more of the player's emotions, e.g. elation at hearing the minds of the villagers and experiencing a moment of hope that he was going to make it, or anger/despair that his pursuer might capture him. Interesting idea, but the lack of feelings kept me distanced, and I wasn't sure what was implied by the final sentence. — SA
2. Too remote—I couldn't even see The Character With No Name let alone appreciate what was going on. -DP
3. Here we go again. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with this story, but for some reason I had a problem with it. I read it over and over trying to figure out what was wrong. Then I discovered the problem.
The final paragraph is told from a different POV. All the way through we are privy to the thoughts of the kargat player, then in the last paragraph it changes and he becomes the horseman.
I'm also not too thrilled with the exhausted horse trotting out of the river. I don't know what other term could be used unless you just said he picked up his pace then dropped back to his former lack of speed. - PD
4. The Possession of Twilight—Makes first pass, but fails on the second. Writing is okay but not strong enough to compel me to read on. Sorry, no vote. —Josh
5. The Possession of Twilight What is kargat? Typical chase scene that goes on and on...doesn't entice me to read on. LF
6. <Part 1: Other than the fact that our POVC is not named, I like this one so far, and will stay with it.—MR> <Part 2: OK, I'll pulled in, and want to read more, though I still feel a distance from the POVC.—MR>
7. The Possession of Twilight
>> Somewhere across the ford was a village, hidden by the trees that lined the river bank. A good sized village: <<
Riverbank is one word. Good-sized village should be hyphenated.
>> the kargat player <<
This is used 5 times in the entry, if you name him Dennis, the kargat player, you only have to use it once. That would save you 8 words, which could be put to much better use in the opening. BTW what in the blue blazes is a kargat player? Micha
8. The Possession of Twilight: Somewhat intriguing, but something better happen soon. <G> Second Place. Bill
9. The Possession of Twilight —GS— just misses. I wanted the kargat player named so I could get close to him. Some very nice prose and lovely setting, but alas, nothing happened, nor was there a hint of anything. I'd read on a bit hoping for the conflict. (BJ)
10. The repeated use of "the kargat player" is a little annoying, can't you give him a name a little earlier? Other than that I liked it. - Deb
The Prisoner of Zelda - Derek Paterson
As they moved deeper into the Vaults, the stench of rotting flesh and untold human suffering choked Father Daymon, who had no choice but to cover his mouth and nose with his sleeve. The zombie guard laughed at his weakness, hissing and cackling. Thankfully they didn't have much further to go. The guard unlocked a door using a huge iron key and pushed it open. Daymon automatically nodded his thanks, then remembered what he was dealing with. He quickly ducked his head and stepped into the cell. The door boomed shut behind him.
His eyes took a while to adjust to the queer light that came from a tiny window set near the ceiling. The light changed from red to blue and back again. Distant screams echoed through the opening. Daymon shuddered. While the Lodge stood by and did nothing to stop this madness, men and women were dying horrible
[150 words] deaths. Did his brothers think Zelda would just go away?
The half-seen shape sitting in the far corner stirred. Daymon sucked in a deep breath. The headless body was fully clothed and recognizable as belonging to Crown Prince Loobek. A funnel had been inserted into the open neck, presumably to permit sustenance to pass into the stomach. Even as he watched, a drop of glowing blue liquid emerged from a spigot set into the wall, and fell into the funnel with a loud plop. Life-fluid. The stuff that kept the zombies alive.
"Is that you, Father?"
The whispering voice caused Daymon to turn around. He searched the shadows for Loobek, and eventually found him, lying in a bucket on the floor. Daymon crouched down and studied Loobek's pale, unblemished face. The bucket was partly filled with life-fluid, which sustained him.
"Oh, my son," Daymon sighed.COMMENTS:
1. The Prisoner of Zelda—More interesting on the second read through than the first, and well-written, although I didn't like the phrase "untold human suffering": Untold as in the author didn't want to describe it, or untold as in nobody outside the Vaults knew about it? Also, "...dying horrible deaths" jumped out at me. A word more evocative than "horrible" would have worked better, I think. — SA
2. I think I just interrupted a game of D&D! This starts too much in the middle of things to really grab me, but I admit I'm quite intrigued by Prince Loobek's situation. Er—this is humor, isn't it? - KH
3. Lis, try not to make it too obvious, maybe just add +10 points onto my score this month, so nobody notices. PayPal says the money's in your account. -Derek ((I think you forgot a few zeros on that money order... -The Adminatrix))
4. Isn't there a book titled "The Prisoner of Zenda"?
>> As they moved deeper into the Vaults, the stench of rotting flesh and untold human suffering choked Father Daymon, who had no choice but to cover his mouth and nose with his sleeve.<<
I'd get rid of "had no choice but to" and change cover to covered, leaving a much cleaner sentence that says basically the same thing. It would then be worded, "Father Daymon covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve." That gives you five more words to use elsewhere.
Then we get to the rest of the story, and I'm not at all sure five words would be enough to fix it. This one is just too far out for me to be able to suspend my disbelief long enough to get into it. Of primary concern, although it's not by any means the only concern, is how the heck did they get his head off and in a bucket without leaving any blemishes on it? It seems to me like there should have been at least a bruise or two. But my mind absolutely refuses to accept the idea of a headless body living and a bodiless head doing the same thing. I'm sorry, but there is more than some mysterious "life force" that keeps the body going, and the same for the brain. It might make a cute what would happen if sort of story, but I wouldn't want to read it. In fact I almost didn't get past the first sentence. PD
5. The Prisoner of Zelda—Makes first pass, although I strained at zombies who hiss and cackle. I thought they were, by definition, emotionless. Fails second pass. I can't accept that a parent would think of a child by his title. Also, his reaction to finding his son's headless body and later his son's still-talking head, took me completely out of the story. Sorry, no vote. —Josh
6. The Prisoner of Zelda - CC&S Awkward beginning. Rewrite the first sentence and tighten it up. Good descriptions—I'm repelled. No gold star but I did continue to read. The ending brought to mind Angel's season finale. LF
7. <Part 1: FIRST PLACE "Zelda" is a popular video game, perhaps you should change it to avoid confusion. —MR> <Part 2: This is really bizarre, but I want to read more.—MR>
8. The Prisoner of Zelda
I couldn't get past the name Zelda (which is the title of a video game character) to enjoy this entry. Every time I read the title I started to giggle. - Micha
9. The Prisoner of Zelda: Wonderfully weird, but I'm sure it's going to be a comedy, and horror humor doesn't turn me on. Bill
10. The Prisoner of Zelda—THIRD (in spite of my thinking Zenda)—GS—I liked it and there weren't noticeable errors in writing. Cliché alert: "untold human suffering". I also wondered how Daymon recognized the prince's body without the head? I needed a little more visual information for that one. More setting. (BJ)
11. Isn't "Zelda" the name of a computer game? You got me though, I love the headless prisoner concept.<G> - Deb
60 pounds on 60 inches - Sid Gittler
"Damn," I muttered as I reached the subway platform. Bordering on being late to work, again, I watched as the train pulled away. Even remembering the classic movie symbolism as it disappeared into the tunnel failed to lift my spirits.
Looking at my watch I saw if the next train came quickly I'd still be OK. But that was always an iffy proposition.
I walked to my usual position at the far end of the platform. The train always stops roughly the same point at all stations so I either walk the length from the entrance going in or to the exit coming out. Or those occasions when the subway comes while I'm walking I grab the nearest car.
Anyway, it's one of those wet, chilly late spring days during a spell where you wonder if spring will ever show up much less summer. The outside gloom permeates the depths
[150 words] and nobody is smiling. Which considering how pissed my boss is going to be suits me fine.
Twenty feet from my spot I see feet coming fast down the staircase from the other side of the street. Next came legs, bare boy legs. How could a parent let their kid out dressed like that on a day like this?
He hugged the rail as dungarees ripped off right above the knees came into view followed by a gray tee-shirt with a navy strip around the neck. At the bottom he spun and ducked under the stairs. The glimpse showed a boy with naturally light brown skin, medium black hair slicked back and wet from the rain. The shirt was dirty and ripped. Shorts held in place with rope.
His face, the poor boy's face burned in my eyes. A naturally beautiful face distorted by fear and despair.COMMENTS:
1.60 pounds on 60 inches—The second half was more interesting than the first, which didn't catch my interest at all, unfortunately. I would like to know what happens next though.—SA
2. Too early to tell whether this story would hold my interest, though the jaded urban voice of the narrator is good enough that I would keep reading for at least a few more pages to see what it's about. Careful, though, the last sentence doesn't match the rest, as it slips into the melodramatic. Gold Star - KH
3. I had a distinct "Come on, get to the story..." reaction to this one—competent, but not fast enough. Tense seems to wobble around mid-point. -DP
4. >> His face, the poor boy's face burned in my eyes. A naturally beautiful face distorted by fear and despair.<<
You have a very good opening here until you get to the "face burned in my eyes." My first thought was, "Wouldn't that hurt?" Then I thought burned in my mind would be better wording. Then I thought maybe it could be ‘etched in my mind'. I don't know, but burned in my eyes just doesn't make it with me. Does the title refer to the size of the boy? He's five feet tall and weighs 60 pounds? PD
5. 60 Pounds on 60 Inches—Makes first pass despite my yawns. Fails second pass. The writing is okay; it just doesn't grab me. Sorry, no vote. —Josh
6. 60 pounds on 60 inches - I think that there is a lack of conflict and the S&C aren't enough to keep me reading. Tone is good though. Sounds like a commuter. LF
7. <Part 1: Nothing here to pull me in, sorry.—MR>
8. >>"Damn," I muttered as I reached the subway platform. Bordering on being late to work, again, I watched as the train pulled away. Even remembering the classic movie symbolism as it disappeared into the tunnel failed to lift my spirits.<<
I liked this graf.
>>His face, the poor boy's face burned in my eyes.<<
It's a fragment and on top of that, how does a face burn into your eyes? I could see the memory of the faced being burned into his mind, or something along those lines, but can't see it as written. Micha
9. 60 pounds on 60 inches: Poor boy in subway? Not enough hook for me. Bill
10. 60 pounds on 60 inches —Tense changes marred this. The reference to "the classic movie" lost me—I wanted you to show me, not rely on stock images. Use of subway as a noun synonymous with train also threw me. In the middle talking to the reader is not in style anymore and was off-putting (i.e. ...during a spell where you wonder if spring ...). A lot of slo-mo attention is given to the boy's legs. Are they significant? It ends with a couple of sentence fragments that didn't work for me and an awkward phrase: His face, the poor boy's face burned in my eyes. It implies the boy's face burned the POVC's eyes. Sorry. (BJ)
11.I'm not a big fan of first person, but this is done reasonably well. Almost made third place. - Deb
Untitled #1 - Tylyn Ryan
I have more scars than most women my age, but then again most women my age aren't in my line of work. I braided my dark red hair into a French braid and pinned it up. Some had it worse than me, to be sure. At least for me rescue did come, eventually.
Those things happened a long time ago. I was forty and had spent my life as a Marshal, tracking down pirates and slavers. Not in the name of Justice, that was concept I never held too dearly. Vengeance is what I live for.
I grabbed the uniform and stepped into it. The zipper sang as I pulled it up. I was on one knee fastening my boot when the alarm sounded .
"Damn you!, Do you have to do that?!" The AI's indignant voice sniffed, "That is a standard ship's emergency alarm. YOU are just too high strung
[150 words] for your own good."
I hurriedly finished putting on the other boot as he spoke. "Well?" I asked as I shrugged my torso armor on and grabbed my helmet, leaving the armor unfastened.
"A ship appeared 1.8 seconds before the STANDARD alarm was sounded. It has since muted all drives and systems "
"Armament?" I asked as I grabbed my weapons belt and entered the bridge from my cabin.A boatswain's pipe shrieked .
The AI's voice thundered. "Attention all hands, Captain on the bridge."
"WILL YOU STOP THAT?! There are no damned 'hands' on this ship"
"All that cursing is unnecessary and most unladylike." He sniffed, "A little military decorum wouldn't hurt morale around here.?
"Who's morale you jackass!? It's just me!"
"And me." It sniffed again "The suspect vessel contains the usual array of low tech, poorly maintained systems one would expect. Nothing I can't handle. Except...."COMMENTS:
1. Untitled #1—Excellent opening sentences, but after that I'm afraid I lost interest. The dialogue was entertaining, but I wanted more of a story...—SA
2. Not bad. I like the relationship between the heroine and the AI, and her description of herself, and the general situation is immediately made clear enough to follow the story. It's weakened by your switching between tenses. - KH
3. Needs some editing, IMHO, but there's something here that appealed to me, author ought to consider second pass and upload to Lib 18. GS. -DP
4. I was irked that this opening was untitled, but it carries itself well! Please find a title for it and finish it. OK? PD
5. Untitled #1—Makes first pass despite a missing word or two and the double-terminal punctuation (which I find really annoying). Unfortunately, it fails the second pass because the AI sounds a bit too much like C3PO (whom I never cared for either). Sorry, no vote. —Josh
6. Untitled #1 Oh I like this one! Give it a 2nd and a gold star and give me the rest of the story! If I fault it for anything it is that there is too much character and not enough setting. - LF
7. <Part 1: I didn't know if this was SF or fantasy until she pulled the zipper, and I would have preferred to know. Otherwise nice, and I'll read further.—MR> <Part 2: Some punctuation problems here, but still an interesting start. —MR>
8. I like the entry, love the brash hardcore go-getum character in this entry. Feels like one of Tylyn's characters. Some awkward punctuation throughout the entry needs to be corrected. (Hey Barb, are you reading this! I'm actually starting to notice incorrect punctuation <g>)
>>The AI's indignant voice sniffed, "That is a standard ship's emergency alarm. YOU are just too high strung <<
Italicize instead of capitalizing.
>> I asked as I grabbed my weapons belt and entered the bridge from my cabin.A <<
Watch spacing between sentences. Two spaces.
>>"WILL YOU STOP THAT?!<<
It's not a question, so you don't need the question mark. Again, italicize.
>>A little military decorum wouldn't hurt morale around here.?<<
You don't need both period and question mark. Double check through the entry and fix all of these. I think au has a darn good rough of an open here, keep at it and finish the story and I'd read more. Micha
9. Untitled #1: Intriguing first paragraph, but the exchange between the rough and tumble POVC and the prissy AI sounded a little too familiar. Bill
10. Untitled #1 — This needs a lot of work in punctuation and the prose needs considerable tightening. That marred this entry at the first reading. There is no sense of conflict and I don't get a clear picture of who the POVC is. There is no setting. I've given some specific comments which I hope will help you in the future. A good first effort and a promise of better things to come from this writer. Sorry. (BJ)
>>I have more scars than most women my age, but then again most women my age aren't in my line of work. << Great line, but it lost impact when the focus shifted to fixing her hair.
>> I braided my dark red hair into a French braid and pinned it up. << Few women focus on their hair colour or the specifics of how it's worn. Men reading this story won't have a clue what a French braid is and they won't care.
>> Some had it worse than me, to be sure. At least for me rescue did come, eventually.<< NO set up. She's fixing her hair, getting dressed, and in no apparent danger. Start your action at the beginning and give these little things a miss. If the story is about her eventual rescue—start when she is first in danger.
>>Those things happened a long time ago. I was forty and had spent my life as a Marshal, tracking down pirates and slavers. Not in the name of Justice, that was concept I never held too dearly. Vengeance is what I live for.<< See above. You're flipping back and forth and it doesn't scan well.
>>I grabbed the uniform and stepped into it. The zipper sang as I pulled it up. I was on one knee fastening my boot when the alarm sounded .<< Too many extra spaces, but I'm stuck on the image of a zipper singing. Do we need the details of her dressing regime? The details of getting dressed get in the way of the action.
>>"Damn you!, Do you have to do that?!" The AI's indignant voice sniffed, "That is a standard ship's emergency alarm. YOU are just too high strung [150 words] for your own good." << I was confused by why the AI was saying those things, especially immediately following the singing zipper and the boot fastening.
>>"...It has since muted all drives and systems "<< Missing period.
>>"Armament?" I asked as I grabbed my weapons belt and entered the bridge from my cabin.A boatswain's pipe shrieked . << Spaces missing or too many. It's hard to tell if this is a by-product of e-mail, or of a lack of proof reading.
>>"WILL YOU STOP THAT?! << Avoid using capital letters and double punctuation marks for emphasis. A simple exclamation will do.
>>There are no damned 'hands' on this ship" << Missing period.
>>He sniffed, "A little military decorum wouldn't hurt morale around here.?<< Change comma to period and delete question mark.
>>"Who's morale you jackass!?<< Insert comma after morale and delete exclamation point.
>>"And me." It sniffed again << Insert period after again.
11. Sorry didn't really grab my interest - no vote. - Deb
Untitled #2 - Sophia Ahmed
It was nearing dusk when the party reached the narrow path leading up to the house. They headed up the slope quickly, keeping close to a jagged, stony ridge that hid them from the sight of anyone who may have been watching from the main mountain road. Malach led the way now, his bulky frame moving steadily up the path, while his gaze roamed among the deepening shadows under the low-hanging branches of the trees beyond the ridge. Torin, with the boy by his side, walked a few paces behind, watching for any movement on the road below. The boy had not broken his silence during the journey, and the men had not pushed him, but it seemed to Malach that with every step they took away from the blackened ruins of the farm, the boy had become increasingly hopeless and withdrawn, until finally, it was as if a small,
[150 words] silent shadow walked along beside them.
The light mist that had lingered around them through the afternoon had vanished now, leaving behind a chill emptiness that seemed to stretch to the sky. Torin pulled up the thick collar of his coat, and winced at the sudden pain the movement caused in his bandaged hand. He looked out over the darkening rocks, and took a deep breath of cold air that tasted faintly of dust, but not, as yet, of smoke. Everything stays still, up here, he thought. The neat plasma cuts that had sliced open the rich earth of the wheat fields on the lower slopes were not to be seen here. Torin looked down as his boot crunched upon on a curved piece of coloured glass lying among the small, sandy-coloured stones that littered the path, and he kicked it aside gently. This land had simply been forgotten.COMMENTS:
1. Nice—unlike some of the jump into the middle entries, this reads like the real beginning of a story, of any length. Well written, with good description, subtle clues about their hazardous situation, and a bit of characterization already. It's a bit slower paced than the other entries, which will be just fine in anything but a very short story. Please tell methere's more of this that I can read soon! Small quibble, you switch POV from Malach to Tobin, instead of staying with one character at least for this scene. Gold Star, First Place - KH
2. Pro level, no glitches, clear setting, clear characters, going somewhere, FIRST PLACE and GS. -DP
3. I haven't a clue, because of the missing title as to where this opening is going. It seems as if it should be interesting, but nothing much is happening. Is the curved piece of colored glass going to have some bearing on the story?
Since people have been telling me show don't tell, I've learned that when I feel disappointed, it's because I'm being told not shown. Unfortunately, I haven't as yet learned the basics of showing, so I can't tell someone else what to do to fix it up. I think this is a potentially good story just get there a little quicker. PD
4. Untitled #2—Squeezes past the first cut even as I yawned. Fails the 2nd pass however for failing to capture or hold my interest. Sorry, no vote. —Josh
5. Untitled #2 I'd continue to read this. Good CCS and good descriptions and I liked the POVC's observations.
My only complaint that the first graph is really long. Give it a 1st and a gold star. - LF
6. <Part 1: Not engaging, sorry.—MR>
7. >> It was nearing dusk when the party reached the narrow path leading up to the house. <<
The party of what? Travelers? Warriors?
>> The boy had not broken his silence during the journey, and the men had not pushed him, but it seemed to Malach that with every step they took away from the blackened ruins of the farm, the boy had become increasingly hopeless and withdrawn,<<
I understand what you are trying to accomplish here, but you need to think of another word than hopeless to carry it off.
Interesting open. I'd read on. - Micha
8. Untitled #2: Nicely written, but nothing yet to grab me. Bill
9. Untitled #2 —GS— This had some lovely setting, but needs a conflict ASAP. I'd prefer the story remain with one POV character—the switch from Malach to Torin didn't work for me. I also wanted to know what kind of party was travelling, who/what were the people involved, and what was the deal with the kid. Nothing happened and there's not a hint something is about to happen. (BJ)
10. I feel like I've come in a bit late on this - I would have liked to see how he got the boy. Other that that, pretty good. - Deb
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