[Poll] VOTE: January '11 Challenge


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Post January 22, 2011, 12:08:05 PM

[Poll] VOTE: January '11 Challenge

To vote, pick a favorite from the three below and send that choice to me as a PM.


The challenge was to add a middle section to Michele Dutcher's winning story opener in the November contest. No restriction was made on subject or style, so long as the entry was clearly linked to Michele's beginning. In the final part of the challenge, writers will compete to write the best ending section of the story that wins this part of the contest.


The following entries were received:



The Disappearing Stone – The Robot Twins



“For the seven thousandth two hundred and forty second time – a magnetic field is the most important thing for a planet's retention of an atmosphere capable of sustaining lifeforms.” The lime-green robot, no more than three-feet tall, looked away from his tubes and fingernail-sized energy sources long enough to basically roll is eyeballs at his twin.

“...refraction of solar radiation interacting with an atmosphere?” asked number 35 to number 36 hopefully.

“No,” # 35 answered flatly, turning back towards his work.

“...ozone layer?...”

“Important yes, but not the number one factor,” mumbled #35 under his breath.

“...but, but, but...”

#35 stopped what he was doing and looked over at his only companion. He eased up, smiling a little at the little imp's insatiable curiosity, turning on his chair to face him. “I know how difficult our existence has been over the past 65 million years, especially after that unfortunate crash during entry, but I know you can remember what caused the death of our world.”

#36's eyes seem to brighten a bit. “Yes, yes, I remember now – it was the loss of our magnetic shield – that's right.”

“...and that led to...”

“...the atmosphere being stripped away by the solar winds and then all the water went into the polar ice caps.”

The robot sitting at the lab table knew his little friend would forget in a week or two, but he was pleased to once again be able to have Rit's mind at ease. Rit was the only companion he had with him, besides the holographs that appeared at regular intervals.

“When will we be done, #35? Soon?”

“As soon as possible, 34. As soon as possible.”

Suddenly a bright light appeared at the back of the small laboratory, and a harmonic voice filled the area. “We see you have chosen to use some of our DNA to alter a new-world species.”

The twin robots were momentarily awestruck. They both knew this was just a picture, geared in to appear at different stages of their progress, but the image brought back memories of the planet they had left behind.

“Indeed, Isis – we accessed a small creature processing grasping claws, and eyes which are located on each side of its head. These creatures spend a lot of time on the lower branches of the trees in this area – and their species appears promising.”

“And what do you hope to achieve in this experiment?”

“By splicing in portions of your DNA, we'll be able to move the eyes closer to the front of the face to give the creature three dimensional sight. We're also beginning work on the opposing thumb scenario.”

“We are pleased that your journey is on course and on schedule. Thank you for your efforts and your patience, Ret and Rit.”

The two lime-green creatures smiled, edging towards the hologram. The female, six feet tall, bi-pedal, with soft green skin and purple eyes held out her hands in obvious gratitude. The two robots briefly entered the hologram's field of light and were rewarded with pleasant sensations covering their bodies, all the way from their tiny four-toed feet to their huge black eyes.

“Remember, my little fellows, the package must be given up of the creature's own free will.”

“We remember Isis,” they repeated in unison. “We remember.”

“The three beings, separated by time and space, smiled in each other's virtual presence.


Egypt 6000 BC

“For the 6 millionth two hundred thousandth six hundred and thirty third time, it's the magnetic fields!” shouted #35 at #36. “Thoth, maybe you can have a go at explaining it to Rit!”

The regal Egyptian leaned forward, taking the 3 foot creature onto his lap, understanding Rit's limited mental resources, and began to gently explain how a planet could lose it's magnetic shield, and the disastrous result that would have.

In the background builders could be seen pushing huge blocks of stone into place, aided by small 'pebbles' which made the stones hover, enabling the workers to simply steer them into place. These pebbles, of course, were gifts of the two small creatures who had taken it upon themselves to, once again, give history a nudge.

“Magnetic Shield!” shouted Rit finally, confidently jumping off Thoth's lap to run towards one of the women sitting along the fertile banks of the Nile.

“The style of the structure you're building is very pleasing,” said Ret, watching his twin as he happily began to play by the river.

“I got the idea when you talked about your home. It was just a step away then to construct a structure to thank you for your amazing tutoring. Astronomy, architecture, science, mathematics – when you revealed yourselves to me, it was amazing to finally have a discussion with another being with similar interest and capabilities.”

“As much as I care about my twin, I too was relieved to have someone with whom I could have an intelligent conversation.”

The magnificently arrayed Egyptian stood for a moment, nodding to the south. “I'm not sure I understand your intentions with the stone altar you created, however. Certainly my people would be appreciative if it gave them things, but to make objects disappear? - it's a clever magic trick, but why?”

Thoth's only response from Ret was, as always, a hopeful smile.


Within the lab that was nestled inside the cone of the great mountain, Isis smiled to her husband. “We have received a carved shaft of wood through the portal.” She held it out proudly.

He allowed the holographic equations and formulas he had been studying to fade away, smiling at his wife. “Well some kind of creature carved it. Those little buggers are doing their job. We'll just have to wait and see.”


[align=center]To Be Continued?[/align]



The Fourth Rule



From this side of the barrier, the Fairy world seemed wondrous and peaceful. The little curly-haired girl thought of it, her dark eyes in amazement: four years old, born human but raised by the Fairies, her condition was unusual. Her name, Dilwen (she had been given from the beings living in this magical realm), meaning "truly blessed", had been chosen for a reason.

She kept walking near the center of the crowning stone: past that landmark, the shadowed scenery of the beautiful Welsh countryside stretched out. It was the same as looking at the human world in the distance through a dense veil whose substance turned up to be impalpable. The megaliths supporting The Vanishing Stone were awesome: she had come from there, some years before, the same for every human living on this side now.

From time to time some babies (boys and girls) happened to be abandoned cause of lack of food or money in the family, such things occurred more often than is thought, but the Fairies had always been taking care of them, whenever possible, if they could arrive on time, of course…

"You there! Look up!" A voice came from a treetop nearby: it was Anarawd. She was same age than Dilwen, abandoned only one month before her, but in unpredictable ways her nature was more restless and vivacious. She just couldn’t hold in, it was no accident that the Fairies had called her that way, meaning "undisgraced" or "free of shame". To all intents and purposes she was different…

Two keen blue eyes, her body always on the go, she couldn't resist climbing over a rock or up a tree"" like in this case…"" with her pale legs dangling sideways.

"Admire my balance! Are you capable of doing this? " Anarawd was defying Dilwen, she always did.

"Pay attention, you had gone too high this time!" the girl replied, a bit worried. Anarawd had often fallen before, but every time some Fairies had been around to go help her, healing her bruises thanks to their magic. But now their usual keepers, Glaw, Heulog and Gladys were away. There was also Haf, another Fairy who sometimes came to visit them, but usually they had only a glimpse of her as she stayed only for a while, probably she didn’t appreciate the way her equals did raise the human babies like Dilwen or, simply, didn’t want to share anything with them at all…

However, the others had always been there for the children when in need. Glaw ("rain") was the most fickle, whenever she moved some water drops surrounded her lithe body, while Heulog ("sunny") looked more joyful, a flower rug always growing under her feet when walking around.

But unquestionably the golden-haired Gladys was the leader.

They were not common children but "given their weird keepers" how might things have been different? The girls have been disconnected from human reality long ago…

"Look up!" Anarawd cried out again, but in doing so she leant unduly and ended up loosening her grip. Her little body fell to the ground and a faint wail was heard.

Dilwen knew it had to happen sooner or later! The girl started running to the spot her friend had dropped on and saw she had both arms broken.

"Watch what you did! " she told her, hopping mad "No keeper around to heal you now…"

Anarawd’s face was upset and crying"Help me, Dilwen! I know you can, even though no Fairy is here…"

“She knew? ” Dilwen thought. When had she discovered it? The little girl was aware she had been given her name "meaning "blessed" because she was endowed with the gift of magic, that was uncommon among the humans… in fact, Selwyn and Owena, too, the other two children (the first being a boy and the second a girl)same age as her who were now in that realm didn’t possess such an ability…

"Please! " Anarawd implored.

So Dilwen sensed the power growing inside and focused. As soon as she touched Anarawd’s arms, the wounded girl began feeling better. After a while, she had completely recovered.

"You possess really an useful gift, Dilwen…" Anarawd smiled. "Now I can climb again on the treetops, playing all day long…"

"Wait! " Dilwen said" What if you fall again? "

Anarawd stopped, pondering that "As you can use magic, what if you’d make my bones stronger…? This way I could climb again and again without worrying about any inconvenience…"

"Turning the bones into something stronger?" Dilwen had tried something like that before, when she had turned an old leaf into a rock, despite this she was doubtful.

"Hurry up! I’m going to climb in a minute…"

"Well, I’ll do it… but only because there is no keeper around to help, I don’t want you get hurt again…"

Dilwen touched her friend’s head. In brief magic pervaded her and Anarawd’s bones were turned into metallic structures, harder and more powerful than ever.

Anyway, once the process was completed, Anarawd looked unconscious and uncommunicative.

Dilwen wasn’t able to know by then, but nobody can turn simply human bones into something metallic: blood vessels inside, all the spinal cord cells and tendons couldn’t live in such a condition, simply secluded within an iron container. Actually, the unfortunate girl was already dead when the Fairies were back late in the evening.

Gladys looked at the dead girl, three feet tall, then stared at Dilwen "You children think you are like us, but you are not…"

Dilwen kept sobbing again.

"You know: the First Rule is that you must follow our rules… Then, the Second Rule states you won’t interfere with human affairs over the barrier, only we can… The Third Rule is that you won’t harm any human being. " Gladys paused. "Then there is the Fourth Rule…"


[align=center]To Be Continued?[/align]



Vanishing Returns



Miriam’s eyes adjusted slowly after the bright flash of light from the sky. She hardly noticed, as her tears had blinded her.

“Poor wee babanod,” she whispered softly into the humid darkness. “What tortures have I caused ‘ye, child? Where did those sons of The Unholy send ‘ye?”.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a low moan from somewhere behind her. She froze, wiped her eyes, and slowly turned toward where she thought it came from. Nothing.

“Is someone there?” her voice was strained, timid. It seemed that the night simply swallowed-up the sound. That won’t do, she thought to herself. Won’t do at all.

She cleared her throat. “Who’s out there? Show yourself.”

The only answer was a rustling atop the Vanishing Stone. Miriam stood straight, smoothed her homespun dress and flicked an unruly black curl from her eyes before she marched-up to the precariously-balanced rock.

What at first looked like a pile of rags, moved. The moon came out again, and she could see that it was a young woman of about the same age and dressed in fine, sturdy traveling clothing. She spoke.

Whatever she said made no more sense to Miriam than a goose’s honking.

The woman noted her puzzled look, muttered an oath of exasperation, then reached into her cloak and touched what looked for all the world to be a small, red, burning ember held inside an oddly-shaped broach pinned to her blouse. It flickered for a moment and then faded-out. She spoke again.

Allwch ch fy neall, nawr?

“’Course I can understand you,” Miriam replied. “Now that you’re speakin’ proper.”

“Sorry. Forgot to turn-off my translator.”

“Turn-off?” Miriam’s confusion was plain. “‘Ya make no sense, girl.”

“Nevermind, I understand that something was. . . sent away from here just a few moments ago. Would you know anything about that?”

“Mayhap, I would. And what business might it be, of yours?” The stranger was sitting on the Vanishing Stone like it was no more dangerous than a church piew. And though she looked a bit like her younger cousin, married and moved on to Twyn-yr-Odyn, just down the road, she carried herself like an English noblewoman.

But the most shocking of all, from a sturdy belt around her waist hung a small, finely-crafted sword. She’d only seen one in her lifetime, and that was on a statue of the Archangel Michael, down at the Merthyr Dyfan Church. Not even King Richard’s tax men carried actual swords. She was so dumbstruck that she missed the woman’s next words.

“Beg pardon, Ma’am?” She stammered.

“What do you know of the baby girl who was sent through The Stone, here? And just a short while ago, by our calculations.”

Her tone and regal manner were undeniable. And though the stranger’s accent sounded like it could have been anyone in her family, she commanded, nonetheless.

It took Miriam only a few minutes to tell her tale.

The woman sat still on the stone’s edge, a single tear formed in the corner of her eye, but it didn’t slide down her clean, smooth cheek. Her sad look was replaced with a fierce anger that Miriam knew well from her own mother’s face. Instinctively, she flinched at the sight.

“You’re sure that the village elders said Goat Of A Thousand Young? Those were their exact words?”

“Yes, Lady. I’ll not forget it for a long time, I fear.”

“I believe you.” A look of resolve came to her face. “They will pay for this atrocity. I assure you. But first, show me where the three small faeries went through. There is homage to be paid.”

Miriam showed her the place. The woman removed the broach from her blouse and touched a green jewel on it. It shone in a color she had never seen, but reminded her of the greenish light of the glow worms of summer. The doorway she had seen before, opened without a sound. One moment there was nothing but solid rock, and the next there was an opening.

When three small shapes appeared in the doorway, Miriam lost her nerve, and ran. She stopped at the tree line, peering from the side of the bole of a huge, dead oak, and watched in the bright moonlight. All clouds had passed.

The regal woman sat crosslegged—childlike—upon the ground before the doorway, and spoke in low murmers to the three creatures. Miriam couldn’t catch the words, but she could tell that there was a sadness to the exchange.

Finally, she kissed each upon the brow and watched as they shuffled slowly, painfully, back into their den. Their joyous energy as they danced about the stones, was gone. They moved like doddering ancients. As silently as before, the rock was whole.

“I know you’re still out there, girl. Come here. Now!”

Miriam scrambled and knelt before the stranger.

“Oh, rise, you silly girl. What is your name?”

“Miriam, Ma’am. Daughter of Bekah.”

“We’ve work to do, Miriam. You will take me to your village and show me the men you remember from tonight. They will be dealt with before the dawn, I swear it.”

“And second. I am the child, your neice, that you brought here this very night in an attempt to save me. And I honor you for it. I am grown, now. For time is not the same where I went. Those three you just saw gave the rest of their lives to divert me to the place you would have sent me to, had those would-be minions of Shub-Niggurath not pulled me from your hands.

The Homibots are not alive like you and I, but caretakers for the transportation stones. They burned-out their own power satellite to override the. . .the incantation that those ignorant toadies of C’thulhu tried to use. The Caretakers will deactivate—die—with the dawn, because of it.”

“And your name, Lady?”

“Miriam, you should call me Marwolaeth.”

“Your name is Death?”

“Tonight, Miriam, I am Death. Lead on!”


[align=center]To Be Continued?[/align]
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Post January 24, 2011, 05:25:47 AM

My vote is in...eh,eh :D
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Post January 24, 2011, 08:21:39 AM

Voting Criteria?

Are we to assume we're voting on:

1) Overall:
2) Characterization:
3) Plot:
4) Setting:
5) Dialog:
6) Challenge:

This time, as well?

Just asking. . .

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Post January 24, 2011, 09:06:57 AM

vote

"To vote, pick a favorite from the three below and send that choice to me as a PM."
Just pick one, Bill - go ahead, just pick one, that's what the guy said, just pick one, one just pick (not your noise) and send that choice to me as a PM (Private Message) it's easy, Bill_Wolfe - just PICK ONE - yeah, that's the ticket - ONE just pick one - SUBMIT
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Post January 24, 2011, 09:08:50 AM

not your noise

Not your noise?? (not your NOSE!) Just pick one You can pick your friends and you can pick your well you know... It's Monday...all day long....hooray....
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Post January 24, 2011, 09:17:10 AM

Re: not your noise

Now that's just plain weird. I'm 50 years-old and just found out I can't see some shades of yellow print on a screen. No kidding, I did a ctrl-f to find where Nate said it, and there it was.

I can read it when it's highlighted, because it changes the text color. And once I knew it was there, I could barely make it out. I can see other yellows, but not the one he used.

Anybody else ever have this happen? Odder and odder.

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Post January 24, 2011, 09:33:38 AM

Very funny, indeed...eh,eh :lol: :lol:

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Post January 24, 2011, 09:35:31 AM

Bill, I know of only one possible explanation for that.

Apparently blue-yellow colour blindness is one of the rarest types. You're a unique person.
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Post January 24, 2011, 11:39:17 AM

Now that's just plain weird. I'm 50 years-old and just found out I can't see some shades of yellow print on a screen. No kidding, I did a ctrl-f to find where Nate said it, and there it was.
Don't feel bad, I've had that problem also, just not with the particular shade in question.

Now, this one -- that's another matter.

It doesn't have enough contrast on a white background.
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Post January 24, 2011, 12:20:17 PM

January Vote

I like all three, 1 and 3 more than number 2 but I do like them. Each has a something about them that is captivating.


This will be difficult. I'd give them all 9.5s if I could.

I might just have to do a "hat trick".

SOLUTIONS
Be vanished all 3 of you.
be easy on my troubled mind
forced of such judgment.
Paris was on the horns of no equal dilemma

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Post January 24, 2011, 03:30:30 PM

yellow

It's not yellow, it is orange. No need to thank me.
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Post January 24, 2011, 04:03:58 PM

yellow

the color of dried blood on a damp, beige-colored foyer rug.
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Post January 24, 2011, 10:24:17 PM

Re: yellow

bottomdweller wrote:It's not yellow, it is orange.

Quite so. I do orange because if your chosen board color scheme is 'subsilver' instead of 'spacevision', the background is white/gray instead of medium blue/dark blue. It's really, really hard to see yellow on the white or the gray. I have to try to plan for both color schemes.
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Post January 24, 2011, 10:38:47 PM

2100 Posts!

My God Nate, you have reached 2100 posts! Shouldn't you be taking over for The High Lama in Shangri-La.
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Post January 25, 2011, 07:55:32 AM

Re: yellow

bottomdweller wrote:the color of dried blood on a damp, beige-colored foyer rug.


I'm thinking more of a vomit (previously chicken curry, perhaps with a nice vindaloo) on off-white tile. But I can't honestly tell you. 'Cause I can't freakin' see it.

I asked someone, and they said it's a dark yellow. BTW, I use the silver screen thingy, too. I can't read the yellow that Lester put on there, but I can at least tell that it's there.

So Nate, how goes the voting?

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Post January 25, 2011, 09:41:29 AM

January Vote

I don't usually say anything regarding voting, mines in. I really like them as I mentioned.

RT
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Post January 25, 2011, 10:32:37 AM

For Bottomdweller:

"To vote, pick a favorite from the three below and send that choice to me as a PM."
Just pick one, Bill - go ahead, just pick one, that's what the guy said, just pick one, one just pick (not your noise) and send that choice to me as a PM (Private Message) it's easy, Bill_Wolfe - just PICK ONE - yeah, that's the ticket - ONE just pick one - SUBMIT



For Bill_Wolfe:

I'm 50 years-old and just found out I can't see some shades of yellow print on a screen.




Use the Force, the button to hit you have,to hit the button you have, Luuuuke...maybe this can help...eh,eh...very funny, sorry, I couldn't resist...eh,eh :D :lol:
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Post January 25, 2011, 03:18:25 PM

colors

orange, a secondary color is derived from yellow which is a primary color.
For your notes.

Art class 101
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Post January 25, 2011, 10:40:19 PM

Re: 2100 Posts!

Mark Edgemon wrote:My God Nate, you have reached 2100 posts! Shouldn't you be taking over for The High Lama in Shangri-La.
.
Honestly, I hadn't realized it was that high. I recall noticing it was over 2,000 just the other day. (Or maybe I'd noticed before but forgot.)

What did it get me? I'd like to say the respect of my peers, but I know this crowd. ;)
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Post January 25, 2011, 10:42:28 PM

Re: yellow

Bill_Wolfe wrote:So Nate, how goes the voting?


I'll just say the lead has not changed.
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Post January 27, 2011, 12:52:38 AM

Re: not your noise

bottomdweller wrote:Not your noise?? (not your NOSE!) Just pick one You can pick your friends and you can pick your well you know... It's Monday...all day long....hooray....


I'll pick my noise, thank you very much! Sure, the rest of the Twittering creatures Facing each other like the pinging of updates ... I shall stick with the leisurely sussuration of soft words.
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Post January 29, 2011, 02:08:51 PM

Winner Announcement

I'm proud to announce the winner of this month's challenge by unanimous vote is Bill Wolfe for his story, "Vanishing Returns". Nicely done, Bill. It's the first time a story has ever skunked the competition.



For the record, these were the authors of the entries for this month:

Vanishing Returns by Bill Wolfe
The Disappearing Stone – The Robot Twins by Michele Dutcher
The Fourth Rule by Sergio Palumbo

Thank you to all who entered or voted. Part 3 of this challenge will be in March, but we'll fit in a February "love" theme before then. Stay tuned for details.
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Post January 29, 2011, 02:23:54 PM

That's gotta hurt...

The person who wrote Part 1 didn't get picked by anybody as author of the favorite Part 2? How many people voted?
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Post January 29, 2011, 07:42:51 PM

Great job, Bill . . . now I've got to think about the end of this story . . .
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Post January 30, 2011, 01:24:46 AM

Re: That's gotta hurt...

Robert_Moriyama wrote:The person who wrote Part 1 didn't get picked by anybody as author of the favorite Part 2? How many people voted?
There's good precedent. The last time we did a multi-parter, Bill beat Casey and I out on part one, but then I beat Bill out on part two. That was one of the reasons I was disappointed that more people didn't try.

Now at least, I can truthfully say that the winner of the first part has never won the next part.

For the record, there were eight votes, all for Bill's. However, one person did say with their vote that they were sure that Michele wrote Bill's story...
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Post January 30, 2011, 06:19:59 AM

Re: Winner Announcement

kailhofer wrote:I'm proud to announce the winner of this month's challenge by unanimous vote is Bill Wolfe for his story, "Vanishing Returns". Nicely done, Bill. It's the first time a story has ever skunked the competition.



For the record, these were the authors of the entries for this month:

Vanishing Returns by Bill Wolfe
The Disappearing Stone – The Robot Twins by Michele Dutcher
The Fourth Rule by Sergio Palumbo

Thank you to all who entered or voted. Part 3 of this challenge will be in March, but we'll fit in a February "love" theme before then. Stay tuned for details.


"Aye", I'll extend my kudos to Bill as well.

As for the whiteout scores, the other two felt like they walked into a trap of not fully using the existing beginning.
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Post January 30, 2011, 10:24:09 AM

Re: Winner Announcement

TaoPhoenix wrote:
kailhofer wrote:I'm proud to announce the winner of this month's challenge by unanimous vote is Bill Wolfe for his story, "Vanishing Returns". Nicely done, Bill. It's the first time a story has ever skunked the competition.



For the record, these were the authors of the entries for this month:

Vanishing Returns by Bill Wolfe
The Disappearing Stone – The Robot Twins by Michele Dutcher
The Fourth Rule by Sergio Palumbo

Thank you to all who entered or voted. Part 3 of this challenge will be in March, but we'll fit in a February "love" theme before then. Stay tuned for details.


"Aye", I'll extend my kudos to Bill as well.

As for the whiteout scores, the other two felt like they walked into a trap of not fully using the existing beginning.


Double ouch. Insofar as it was Michele's beginning, one would have thought that SHE would be best qualified to judge where that beginning might lead. And someone thought Bill's story WAS Michele's? One or both of them must find that either (a) insulting, or (b) a high compliment.
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Post January 30, 2011, 11:11:13 AM

Stats

Nate,

I'm just curious, do you have the stats on who are the top three flash challenge winners since the beginning and how many times each of the top three have won?
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Post January 30, 2011, 12:03:23 PM

Plotlines

First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who voted for Vanishing Returns. I put a lot of time and research into it. I even found-out that there is such a thing as an English-Welsh online dictionary. Very cool.

TaoPhoenix wrote:As for the whiteout scores, the other two felt like they walked into a trap of not fully using the existing beginning.


I thought that odd, too. 'Goat Of A Thousand Young' is either a Heavy Metal song by a group called Grand Belial's Key (thanks, Google), which would be strange coming from 14th Century Welshmen, or one of the names for Shub-Niggurath, one of the C'thulhu 'Old Ones' of the Lovecraftian milieu. I had a heck of a time working that into the story.

Nobody else addressed the 'exploding star', either. That took a bit of creative dabbling to solve, as well. It felt a little like a last minute monkey wrench thrown into the mix, and I was sure that Michele had something cool cooked-up to explain it. I can maybe see how I might have worked it in writing an ending to Michele’s second story, but no clue how I would do it with Sergio’s story.

To me, these were two important story elements that had to be answered in the second installment and I managed to scrape-together some kind of plot-moving explanation for both. Having done so once, I really didn’t want to have to try to do it again, just to write a finish using one of the other stories.

I also finished the plotlines for the three small dancing ‘fairies’ from Michele’s story and the three metallic skeletons found after the flood. There was considerably more to do to finish explaining these things in the other stories.

I just couldn’t figure-out how I’d finish either The Robot Twins or The Fourth Rule, in only a thousand words. I’m not sure I would have tried.

Soooo. . .that’s why when I sent in my vote, I told the evil Ice Gnome (or is ‘the evil’ his title, which would make him The Evil Ice Gnome? Hmmmmmm….) that I liked mine best, but gave him my pick of the other two. I didn’t know I was voting for myself, and quite frankly would have asked that he count the other vote. I didn’t think we could vote for our own story. So it’s not quite the one-sided blowout, IMHO.

So how’s about it, Michele and Sergio? What was the exploding star? Where did the extra skeletons/diminutive ‘fairies’ come from (two for Sergio, one for Michele)? Was the C’thulhu reference just a red herring? I’m only asking because I thought I had to wrassle these concepts into Part II, and neither of you seemed to feel the same.

You don’t have to answer, but I’d appreciate it.

Bill Wolfe
"I am Susan Ivanova. . . .I am the Right Hand of Vengence. . .I am Death Incarnate, and the last living thing that you are ever going to see. God sent me."
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Post January 30, 2011, 01:09:43 PM

Re: Winner Announcement

Robert_Moriyama wrote:And someone thought Bill's story WAS Michele's? One or both of them must find that either (a) insulting, or (b) a high compliment.

I would take it as a high compliment to Bill, if he could manage to get Michele's 'voice' right enough that a reader couldn't guess.

And that was an intended skill to master as part of the challenge...
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