SUMMER 2014 SHORT STORY CONTEST

[Kannap]

So, when it comes time to judge these, I will assume that can start tomorrow. I'll probably hold off and start reading on Thursday. Sorry for any inconvenience, I have a visitation to be at tomorrow and a funeral to be at on Wednesday.

[Nazi Flower Power]

So, when it comes time to judge these, I will assume that can start tomorrow. I'll probably hold off and start reading on Thursday. Sorry for any inconvenience, I have a visitation to be at tomorrow and a funeral to be at on Wednesday.

No worries. Thanks for letting us know what's happening.

[The Dogma States]

Last minute Entry!
This basically an intro story to a story i'm getting ready to type (Not posted online yet), hope it's ok.

An Encounter. (Short Story ver.)
I never thought i would meet a girl i was crazy for. Much less CHANGE my ways for her, i guess you could say i was a party animal. Going to parties, getting drunk, coming home with a different girl everytime. That's pretty much what my senior year was going to be, going to a party every week or day. And basically just blowing it off and getting my diploma, then leaving into the real world.
Until i met this girl.
It was during football practice, we were out on the field sweating and cursing at each other because of the hot August afternoon. "Jesus man, whens the damn heat going to give up?" my best friend Robbie panted. Coach Lanyard was pushing us to the limit even though football season didn't start in a month. "Coach is a hard as a motherf-" Coach Lanyard blew his loud and ear piercing whistle before Robbie could finish his sentence. He barked at us to show up tomorrow and hit the showers before we kill the fake grass on the field. Then he blew his dismissal whistle as everyone sighed with fustration and relief.
The sun had set and the campus lights were on by the time i got out of the locker room. I was walking by myself still trying to catch my breath, when Robbie walked up next to me. "Hey Roy, are you going to the party tonight?" he asked, while holding his gym bag with one strap. "I think i'm just going to sit this one out, Coach L choked out every bit of life in me." I pratically exhaled my sentence out. "Alright, you got the whole dorm to your self then." he says, with a sly on his face. I scoffed, and said "Whatever, there's still Joey and Todd". "That's true, but i know Joey is definetly going to be at the party, not sure about todd though." Robbie replied, As we neared the Dormitory where the party was at. "Well, i think im just going to wander around the campus for a bit." I said, when i looked up at the building. "At night?" Robbie asked, like i was moron or something. "Yes at night," i said rolling my eyes at him. "Whatever, im gonna go have myself a fun time, i'll see you later" Robbie said, as he walked off into the doors.
The Campus feels like an absolute ghost town at night, everyone's in their dorms either partying, studying, or sleeping. I was laying down on the fountain meanwhile, just staring blankly into the stars, Thinking about life in general. I think i dozed off, because that was the last thing i remembered.
I checked my watch when i got up, it was midnight already. I heard one of the security guards yelling from a distance, so i ran back to the dorms. I thought he was still chasing me so i was still running through the halls of the dormitory before i straight up smacked into someone. It was some girl who goes to my literature class, she had blue eyes and blond hair. She was wearing what looked like a rancher's polo and blue jeans I think her name was katilin or something. I was rubbing my nose, i hit her pretty hard, "Are you alright?" i asked, while she slowly got up. "Yeah, i'm fine. What were you running from? You came in pretty fast.." she said, while pinching her nose. "I think it's bleeding.." Blood was running down her nose in streams. "That's alot of blood," i said, in a panicky kinda tone. "Here, come to my dorm!" i said urgently, as i took her hand and led her to my dorm. Unknowingly falling for her as the week started to pass by.
We dated for the rest of my senior year, i was really crazy about her. Our relationship was perfect to me, it was really really hard to leave her. But love always does something funny, 2 years later i ran into her. It was awkward, because she had a two year old with her at the time i couldn't put two and two together. Until she finally told me he was mine, i was shocked as hell.
Our story is still going on...

[Forsher]

A more last minute entry.

The rain was very heavy and had been for a few hours by the time Edwards arrived at the warehouse. His route was the same as ever, which was unusual because it was very exposed to the elements. There was a method to this apparent madness though. Edwards was an intensely private person and no-one bothers thinking about someone hurrying through frankly atrocious weather. They do notice hurrying more generally so Edwards tended to amble in other conditions. Still, he was getting soaked and the warehouse was still a good fifty metres away so he sped up. This was a mistake.

The thing about rain is that it rarely happens to just one place. Sure, buildings can keep it away and those stuck inside all day rarely notice it, but the rain happens over a large area all the same. It was for this reason that Edwards was bowled over by two students running for the station. It wasn't so much a collision as a lithe man clipping two quite solid figures and all three moving at speed. Edwards didn't have time to think, he just threw his arms back to break his fall and would've hoped for the best if it weren't for the aforementioned thinking thing. In time he'd remember the incident but not its context, just the pain as he broke his wrists. The warehouse was important. The hospital was more important whne you're soaked, in pain and not really committed to the cause in the first place. And so, with a backwards glance at the warehouse Edwards did the best he could to get to a hospital. It'd be the hospital but Edwards barely knew the area. Hopefully Sasha would understand why there would not be a meal on the stove by the time she got back.

"Where is Edwards?" The voice was silky, whatever that meant. What mattered was it belonged to someone in the know. Well, not the entire know because Samantha has describe the story of Edwards, witnessed from a grubby window hidden behind a skip. "Go to plan B. Edwards knows nothing." The voice sounded, well, it didn't really sound sad, angry or anything. It was as if a statue had spoken: there was no concern, no emotion. That was real silk, so much class it was incomprehensible.

"Plan B." Samantha was evasive, uncertain and, above all, concerned. "Plan A was much better thought out. It's still viable. Less risk."

"I'm due in court. Stick to the Plan." Samantha looked miserable. The main plan was to do whatever Silk said to. This was a risky strategy as Silk was about as trustworthy as Edwards and he had already ditched them. In fact, Silk was less trustworthy, a thought which prompted much muttering and head-shaking as Samantha removed all traces of the warehouse conspiracy. If Plan B was the way to go, then they needed somewhere smaller, closer to their target... the question was where? Her head in a dark place, Samantha opened an umbrella and disappeared into one hell of a nasty night.

Three days passed before Silk managed to track Samantha down, in hindsight the completely dark aspect of Plan B was a bad idea when coupled with its extreme fluidity. It turned out Samantha had found a dingy flat overlooking a very suspect part of the city. It may have had an ocean view but that was between the big and small skips and through yet another grubby window. Somehow the tiny room's resemblance to the warehouse was uncanny: cold, uninviting and surrounded by rubbish. Still, if Samantha didn't have a taste for such environs it could've been weeks before the pair reunited.

"You took your time." Samantha was a mess: her short brown hair threw itself left and right, doing its best to imitate a midnight tempest; her normally bright hazel eyes were sunken; and her skin pale and cold. Silk would've blamed the flat but Plan B required such a state of despair. Well, on her part, Silk still had a position in society to maintain. "Another day and I would've made the move on my own."

Silk smiled. Well, attempted a smile. Whatever Silk's facial muscles managed to achieve it wasn't a smile but the expression did put Samantha at ease. This was not lost to Silk and the statue quickly returned, deadening the laughter. "I have the case. Give it to the new man tomorrow." Samantha nodded as Silk dropped a rough, dusty brown suitcase on the floor and made rude hand gestures as Silk left. It wasn't that Silk had taken a lifetime to find her. It wasn't that no apologies were forthcoming. It wasn't that Silk had as much idea about who the new man was as Samantha. It was that after three days without cash, Samantha was no longer faking the dishevelled look and Silk had done nothing.

For such a crappy suitcase, the brown lump was ridiculously central to Plan B. Without it, Samantha and Silk had no means of identifying the man that would lead them to the information they were after. Had Edwards still been around the case would've not required intercepting because the man that would pick it up had a rendezvous with Anton Klae the day after the warehouse meeting. Klae knew both Samantha and Silk of old and had either attempted to observe the rendezvous things would have got hairy. Klae was big time in the intelligence community for a reason. He was skilled, intelligent and cleaned up after himself. The sight of either remaining partner would've been enough for Klae to wash his hands of the affair; in fact, Klae would likely have aborted his operation had he bumped into them in the street. This was why Plan B was less preferable to Plan A; the interception of the suitcase was fraught with risk. It relied entirely on Klae's deciding not to manage his operation too closely: as long as Klae was hands off he wouldn't notice anything amiss as long as key events happened when they should. Samantha didn't know how Silk had obtained the case or how they knew about it but that wasn't important, yet. What she did know was that the case had to be rammed into a rubbish bin near the south entrance to the city's main park. This was easier said than done: dumping was illegal.

The next day found both Samantha and Silk hidden in a dense thicket overlooking the rubbish bin. It was risky move but they had no choice. Samantha would have preferred to utilise a small group of trees directly opposite the park's southern entrance but the flowerbed at the clump's foot drew a heavy stream of foot traffic. The thicket was a little small to conceal two averagely sized adults and maintain a decent line of sight over a bump in the ground halfway between the thicket and the rubbish bin. On the bright side, with fifty metres between the bin and the thicket, the path a good twenty and a solid brick wall behind it, there was no reason for anyone to approach it. Still, one could never be entirely certain that a stray ball, frisbee or dog wasn't going to intrude. The most amazing thing was that Silk had decided that the thicket required both of their presences.

"That's him." Silk had good eyes. Samantha added it to a scant list of relevant details about her associate. "Actually, I think that's a woman."

"Typical Anton." The woman wasted no time in removing the case, dumping it on the ground and turning her back to the thicket as she rummaged through it. "That's not good." Samantha looked at Silk but she knew what came next. Their eyes met, they nodded and suddenly Silk was flying across the ground, totally out of character with the personality but entirely in line with the dedication to the job. Samantha knew this part of the plan and started shooting just as Silk launched into his diving tackle of the woman. In a matter of minutes the scene was chaotic, allowing Samantha a chance to escape and Silk to figure out the woman's identity. The police soon descended and it took a few hours for everything to cool down but the shooting gave Silk the perfect cover: the question was whether Klae would notice who was involved. By the time Silk was back at the flat the rain was torrential again.

"Who was she?"

"Sasha."

"The Sasha?"

"Yes."

"This is getting heavy." The mood in the flat was sombre. "We should cut our losses."

"No... the case is too important. Sasha doesn't know me."

"But Klae does, he'll know by now." The rain was more than torrential now. The sound of thousands of drops of water thudding, not splashing, thudding onto the ground, the roof and the skips outside filled the room... it was deafening. For what seemed like hours Silk sat on a grotty wooden chair while Samantha paced around. Finally, the rain began to ease.

"One last shot. Tomorrow night Sasha will be at the Emerald. We will..."

"No, I'm out. It's tonight or not at all. Klae will expect something to happen tonight. He gets jumpy, makes mistakes but at this stage he's confident that it's too late." This was a different Samantha to the one Silk had come to know. She'd been pushed too far. No, no she hadn't. Silk's mind worked furiously trying to figure out why Samantha was stressed out. It can't have been three days with minimal food, she was a professional. For a moment Silk wondered if there was something more to Edwards' injury but there couldn't be.

"Samantha... had you ever see the people who knocked Edwards down before?"

"Uhh... I don't think so."

"We've been made. Abort."

The room was still, cold and silent when the door was kicked in. For a brief moment a flash of lightning illuminated two quite solid figures and then they, too, were gone.

It was a few days later when Sasha caught up with Klae. The small man smiled warmly at the slight woman as she sat down. "What were they after?"

"I think they wanted to know why."

"Ah, yes. Brunei." Klae leaned back and ran his scarred left hand through increasingly sparse black hair. As he did so his smile faded. "No, that makes no sense."

Sasha twitched. Her long red hair flicked off her shoulders and the expression in her warm brown eyes changed. The normally vivid spark of life vanished, replaced by something more vague. "How so?"

Klae looked at his accomplice. "I know Silk, he would never abort if he wanted to know why. This was something else. The case, what was that for?"

"Another job. We were to deliver some papers regarding the extradition of that suspected terrorist." Sweat began to roll down Sasha's forehead. How could Edwards have not mentioned that Klae knew Silk? He musn't have known. Could that mean Silk and Samantha had planned ahead?

Klae started, he was genuinely surprised. Recovering he began slowly, "You mean Alfred Kao?" As Sasha nodded Klae continued. "It turned out he was a teacher. Completely innocent." Klae turned away and then got up; Sasha slumped forwards. "I thought so." Klae fell down. Two of the cafe's other patrons rushed over, a few chairs bouncing off their solid figures.

Silk put his binoculars down. "I know, I know, you told me Plan A was still viable."

"Um, Silk, I don't think it did." Silk spun around to see a tall man wearing dark sunglasses waving Samantha backwards with a gun.

"You did well, you two. An absolute knock-out success. But mystery isn't going to save you Silk. And Sammy? What was your security? You can trust no-one, especially not the employer. The lesson ends there and so, my friends, do you." The man smiled, and then frowned as Samantha smiled too. The frown didn't last long.

"Aargh!"

"Shut up, he got your shoulder."

"You could've mentioned the security, I would've ducked."

"And you should've told me your name. We're even, we're out and we're alive. Never again."

[Nazi Flower Power]

Wow, you guys cut it close...

Entries are closed.

[Respubliko de Libereco]

Can't wait to find out whether I did slightly worse or significantly worse than last contest.

[Nazi Flower Power]

Can't wait to find out whether I did slightly worse or significantly worse than last contest.

You're always so hard on yourself.

Anyway, I think the judges just need a bit of time to deliberate. Kannap posted to say what's up with them, and I TG'ed the other two earlier.

[Kannap]

Can't wait to find out whether I did slightly worse or significantly worse than last contest.

You're always so hard on yourself.

Anyway, I think the judges just need a bit of time to deliberate. Kannap posted to say what's up with them, and I TG'ed the other two earlier.

Sorry I didn't get around to it yesterday. I'll probably start on Monday. With the funeral and all earlier this week and Fourth of July festivities today and tomorrow and church stuff on Sunday, I've been busy.

[Nazi Flower Power]

You're always so hard on yourself.

Anyway, I think the judges just need a bit of time to deliberate. Kannap posted to say what's up with them, and I TG'ed the other two earlier.

Sorry I didn't get around to it yesterday. I'll probably start on Monday. With the funeral and all earlier this week and Fourth of July festivities today and tomorrow and church stuff on Sunday, I've been busy.

It's OK. RL happens. I'm actually pretty happy with how this is going because we got a decent crop of entries, we didn't have to extend the deadline, and none of the judges has disappeared.

[Conserative Morality]

Characters: 2/25
One-dimensional caricatures of people. I found no reason to care about any of the characters; Alex is tormented for the sake of being tormented, his acquaintances are mean for the sake of being mean, his father is angry and unable to understand his son's condition, which could be done well, but just seems to be present to heap more misery on the character.

Plot: 2/25
Suicide for the sake of suicide is hard to make gripping without strong characters and prose. Speaking both as a reader and writer who has enjoyed works focusing primarily on suicide, and as someone who struggles with suicide. It's all just "Life shits on this guy, isn't this awful?" but the ridiculousness of it made me just... not care.

Setting: 2/15
Some detail? Not great on the matter.

Creativity: 1/15
It's a story about a suicidal kid in high school who's broken up with his girlfriend and whose parents hate him. Originality is all in execution, of course, but... I can't give good marks to this.

Style: 5/15
Bland. Very bland. Not unreadable, but it lacks cohesion with the story; it's all just... recounting details, like a summary.

Grammar and Spelling: 2/5
Not incomprehensible, but some significant mistakes and a consistent refusal to put spaces between punctuation put this pretty low.

Overall Score: 15/100
I can't say that this story was particularly entertaining, but writing is all about practice. Keep at it, and your work will improve.

Characters: 20/25
The narrator didn't seem to have much depth to him, and neither did most of the peripheral characters. Part of this is naturally because of the limitations of a short story, but it seems like you could have either rounded them out more or clipped them as to make them less noticeable. Still, the two leads remained well-characterized enough to support the story well enough; the idealistic, empathetic Yankee politicienne and the Southern gentlemen who can't let go of his past life.

Plot: 14/25
It seemed disjointed, like recounting a series of life events without any sort of narrative 'point' to it, so to speak. It seems a little hypocritical for me to criticize this, since I form stories in much the same way, but it did leave me wondering what precisely I was supposed to be invested in in the story. The characters were good, but not good enough to carry 5000+ words on their own. It was comprehensible, believable, and given enough context to link everything, but it lacked an emotional pull for me.

Setting: 11/15
The description once in the post-war South was excellent, and in general achieved the view of the period and place. Nashua felt flat in comparison.

Creativity: 15/15
Can't say I run into many Civil War lost Lenore stories. Maybe I'm just not looking in the right places.

Style: 11/15
The first person narration seemed really unnecessary, considering how late, how peripheral, and how inconsequential to the events of the story the narrator is. A lot of the dialogue was rather stilted.

The plantation was pathetically decadent.

Technically correct? But using decadent to portray decline from neglect is... an unusual use of the term, at least in my experience.

Grammar and Spelling: 5/5
No mistakes that I noticed.

Overall Score: 76/100

Overall enjoyable, but not particularly gripping.

Characters: 5/25
Didn't really get a feel for any of the characters.

Plot: 10/25
It... was... alright? I mean, so little is told about the revolution, the 'United American Republic', really, everything, that it's hard to get a feel for the plot past 'kid is kidnapped and brainwashed'.

Despite this, he left no trace that he had left. It was the perfect crime, utterly unsolvable. Thirty-two seconds after the door shattered, a solitary white van drove off into the sable night.

Er, except for the broken glass, the smashed door, the blood from the kid's cracked arm... no trace implies no trace of the crime at all.

Also, 'he left no trace that he had left'? Bit of proofreading goes a long way.

Setting: 5/15
Almost no information is given about the setting, and not in a mysterious way either. In a 'this is just kind of annoying at this point' way.

Creativity: 7/15
Rather typical YA plot.

Style: 9/15
Sometimes the disjointed hopping around sort of deal can come off as pretentious, but I think you did it well all things considered. A lot of the description and dialogue could use work, though. Your word choice can come off as stilted.

"Ow!" he cried as he bounced off the third step from the top, waves of pain surging up his leg as he somehow flipped around and landed on his head.

"Ack!" he screamed whilst his arm cracked on the seventh step, sending him into a reeling spin down the long staircase. All the way down he screamed, spinning dizzily into the arms of a third kidnapper, who knocked him unconscious

This part in particular stands out as in desperate need of a rewrite. Also, onomatopoeia is generally considered bad form. While it can work on occasion, more often than not it just comes off as unnecessary.

Grammar and Spelling: 5/5
Nothing I wouldn't excuse under the aegis of style.

Overall Score: 41/100
Started troubled but promising, and went downhill. Some proofreading and context would have went a long way.

Characters: 9/25
Didn't get a good feel for any of the characters. Parents were one-dimensional. The main character was preachy.

Plot: 9/25
She fooled a multi-billion dollar expedition by essentially saying "I'm actually supposed to be here."

The plot feels like it was forced towards a predetermined conclusion. One that wasn't particularly compelling.

Setting: 8/15
A lot of the story was carried on the back of the setting, but it fell flat. Explaining the 'how' was more important than the 'why', and without the 'why', without the justification for the state of affairs, it just seemed like an idea formed into a world rather than a world with ideas.

Creativity: 8/15
Also rather typical YA style fare.

Style: 9/15
Nothing I found particularly good or bad, except for a change in PoV near the end of the story that felt pointless.

Grammar and Spelling: 5/5
Again, nothing I'd deduct points for.

Overall Score: 49/100
Felt preachy about an issue with neither a parallel real world issue to work as allegory, nor enough justification and immersion to care about the issue on its own.

Characters: 20/25
This is the part I struggled the most with. You wound up the narration and the characterization very tightly, so that every description is a reflection of the narrator, but I don't know that I could actually identify any unique personality traits of their's. Perhaps that's not important. People, after all, are difficult to boil down into a series of simple descriptive words, and the story is very much driven by plot, theme, and style. In any case, wonderfully human. Even Death. Especially Death?

Plot: 21/25
Moderately pretentious. I approve.

Setting: 15/15
Some very excellent description. A very good portrait of the post-apocalypse. Beautiful prose, but not quite purple. A good balance.

Creativity: 15/15
Explicitly spiritual post-apocalyptic stories of mortality are in short supply. Usually they're just grim and self-reflective.

Style: 12/15
The style is formal and florid rather than casual and naturalistic, but this isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's quite pleasing at times. It does, however, give something of a detached feeling to the proceedings - if that was your intention, that's all well and good, but I felt a little detached myself from the story because of it.

In fact, he is Death himself. I don’t know how I know this, but I do.

Perhaps this is more personal than anything, but "I know he is Death himself." or something similar would have gotten the same point across. In any case, "I don't know how I know this, but I do" is definitely jarring.

Unrelated to the style score, the word corvid here bugs me. It's the right word. But it's so bloody scientific.

Grammar and Spelling: 5/5
Nothing I saw to deduct points about.

Overall Score: 88/100
Kept me reading and interested despite some minor problems. Definitely a good one.

I'll do the rest tomorrow or later today.

[Kannap]

This one was short enough for me to take care of right now.

Characters: 4/25
Okay, so there are a few characters we get to hear the names of. The narrator of the story is Roy. He is on the football team at some school, alongside his best friend Robbie. We find out that Roy is a Senior at this school, but are not told if it is a high school or a university, though the way dormitories and the campus are referred to, it is a safe assumption that this could be a university. A girl is mentioned early in the story (and later recognized as Katilin; "I think her name was Katilin"), but is not referenced until the end and for a story that is about meeting said girl, she receives minimal time in the story. Another character is Coach Lanyard, who is the football coach. Two more characters, Todd and Joey, are mentioned but no details are put into their characters.

About the characters, we aren't given much detail about Katilin except that she is a female, and attends the same school as Roy and Robbie. Apparently we also find out that Katilin becomes pregnant with Roy's child, but the story manages to skip two years for that development. Not much is known about Robbie besides him being Roy's roommate, teammate, and best friend. We still learn nothing about Todd or Joey and barely know anything about Roy, the narrator.

Plot: 1/25
I don't really see much of a good plot here. Roy's at university, on a football team, some wild partying Senior. The story is supposed to be about him meeting this girl that he fell in love with, as it hints early in the story: "Until I met this girl". When it actually comes to the encounter with the girl, there is a strong lack of detail. Roy runs into her while running down the hallway and then takes her to his dorm. That's it. We hear nothing else about the night, but can later determine they had sex because two years later, she has a two year old son who is allegedly Roy's child.

Setting: 5/15
Places: University; Football Field; Dormitory
Time: August; Senior year; two years after Senior year

The setting is clear enough in the idea that we know that the story takes place during Roy's Senior year at University. Part of the story includes his friend and him at football practice, and therefore it is assumed they are on the football field. Later in the story Roy runs into the girl in the dormitory. We know the beginning of the story is in August, because it is stated: "the hot August afternoon." Beyond that, we don't know how time passes, because we are not told another point in time until Roy runs into the girl two years later.

Creativity: 1/15
I don't see much creativity in this story. To me, this story appears to just be your standard, run-of-the-mill boy meets girl story, with excruciatingly less detail. I mean, Roy is a senior in university and he runs into a girl while running down the hall in a dormitory.

Style: 1/15
Not my cup of tea, just seems cluttered and there is a ton of stuff going on all too fast, some parts I couldn't even understand what was happening, and some parts I did but did not see how the contributed to the story. Maybe I could have seen better upon the style if the story was longer and focused more on meeting the girl and maybe their first date. Maybe even throw in a football game. Just, too much happened too fast and I feel like a lot was missing.

Grammar and Spelling: 0/5
Found some words misspelled, not too many, but enough to become irksome. At least twice, you did not capitalize proper nouns, and at least twice more you capitalized common nouns. Some common errors made with punctuation. The number one thing that bothered me, from the first occurrence, was you failed numerous times (around 30 times) to capitalize the letter "I" when the first person narrator referred to himself as "I" or used "I'm". You only capitalized the letter "I" if it was used at the beginning of the sentence. Anytime the narrator - or any character when speaking - says "I" or "I'm", it must be capitalized, and that is what bothered me most about the grammar aspect: They were all lowercase unless it was the first word in the sentence.

Overall Score: 12/100
I notice that this is a intro into a story you intend to write or may have already written. I wish you well in your endeavor, but recommend that you go more in depth with describing your characters and settings. Proofread your stories, make sure there are no grammar or spelling errors. Have friends or family proofread your stories so that they can catch errors you may have missed. Work on developing a strong plot that will keep the reader's attention and try not to rush the writing. Don't be too afraid to let individual events stretch out over paragraphs or pages. Through in a little creativity, otherwise what sets your stories apart from other ordinary boy meets girl stories?

This is a great opportunity to learn from your errors and mistakes and not make the same mistakes the next time. Writing improves the more you practice. As with anything, the more you do it the better you will become.

Thank you for your submission
- Kannap

[Nazi Flower Power]

The first person narration seemed really unnecessary, considering how late, how peripheral, and how inconsequential to the events of the story the narrator is. A lot of the dialogue was rather stilted.

Yeah, if I ever reworked this, I'd put it in 3rd person. I'd also go over the maximum word count for this contest since 3rd person would allow me to add scenes that the narrator didn't witness or hear about.

[Respubliko de Libereco]

The plantation was pathetically decadent.

Technically correct? But using decadent to portray decline from neglect is... an unusual use of the term, at least in my experience.

In NFP's defence, I was glad to see someone other than me using "decadent" in a negative sense. Every time I see a restaurant menu talking about "decadent chocolate cake" or something like that, it bothers me.

[Conserative Morality]

In NFP's defence, I was glad to see someone other than me using "decadent" in a negative sense. Every time I see a restaurant menu talking about "decadent chocolate cake" or something like that, it bothers me.

I usually hear decadent in relation to moral decline and such. The decadence of the Manchu Court, the decadent nature of Western society, etc etc.

[Respubliko de Libereco]

In NFP's defence, I was glad to see someone other than me using "decadent" in a negative sense. Every time I see a restaurant menu talking about "decadent chocolate cake" or something like that, it bothers me.

I usually hear decadent in relation to moral decline and such. The decadence of the Manchu Court, the decadent nature of Western society, etc etc.

That is indeed the conventional meaning, but any usage that preserves the "decline/decay" bit of the meaning is, in my opinion, preferable to the restaurant meaning, which seems to be "luxurious".

I mean, no one advertises cake as "glutinous" or "grossly self-indulgent", so it really bothers me that "decadent" is so common.

[The Dogma States]

Last minute Entry!
This basically an intro story to a story i'm getting ready to type (Not posted online yet), hope it's ok.

Void

I'm Gonna have to void my entry guys, this is not the story i wrote for this contest.
I think i had 2 word documents open and i accidentally copy and pasted the wrong one. The other story was about 2 friends fighting and going their separate ways and yada yada, not page 1 of some love story..

[Nazi Flower Power]

Last minute Entry!
This basically an intro story to a story i'm getting ready to type (Not posted online yet), hope it's ok.

Void

I'm Gonna have to void my entry guys, this is not the story i wrote for this contest.
I think i had 2 word documents open and i accidentally copy and pasted the wrong one. The other story was about 2 friends fighting and going their separate ways and yada yada, not page 1 of some love story..

OK, I took the link to your entry out of the OP. There will probably be another contest like this in the fall or winter if you'd like to enter the story about the friends who have a falling out.

[The New World Oceania]

I usually hear decadent in relation to moral decline and such. The decadence of the Manchu Court, the decadent nature of Western society, etc etc.

That is indeed the conventional meaning, but any usage that preserves the "decline/decay" bit of the meaning is, in my opinion, preferable to the restaurant meaning, which seems to be "luxurious".

I mean, no one advertises cake as "glutinous" or "grossly self-indulgent", so it really bothers me that "decadent" is so common.

They mean to take, on dining, a more... Objectivist perspective, if you will.

[The New World Oceania]

razor blade, $10; cell phone repair, $150; hospital bill, $8,000; flat characters romanticizing suicide: priceless

Characters: 7/25
Let's observe the characters, their intentions, and their motivations.
Alex: No. A Tarantino cameo would be more interesting than this character. He is not directly relatable to any archetype at all; one might call him a self-deprecator, but the plot doesn't allow for that whereas a) the tragedy would make him antagonistic, and b) he's presented in such a way the audience is inclined to agree with his view of himself, a view that is already painfully unclear. He's unrelatable. To anyone. Alex is essentially satirical, to the point where we can't help but laugh because his flatness so ridiculously hyperbolizes his depression. That is, if you can call it depression. Depression is characterized as a mental disorder, and we might be willing to diagnose Alex with it if he weren't so static. Instead, it just looks like he's vaguely pissed of at approximately everything. Finally, he could've been better named Stanley.
Andrew: You know when sometimes you'll be hit over the head with some heavy-handed social commentary in a movie? Yeah, that's a little like this, except instead of social commentary it's the characterization of Andrew as an ass. On that note, this is the only place you decided to show instead of tell. Oh, the applause.
Mike: Like I give a shit about his name. What is the point of him? It brings me to tears trying to explain how utterly purposeless this character is. Purposeless, perhaps, because he is so unrealistic.
Steven: Who the fuck is this guy?
Diana: First mention: first paragraph. Name provided: thirteenth paragraph. Also, as a source of emotion, this character carries no emotion with her. If we even had a broad clue who Diana is and why she means anything to Alex, we might care more about the entire story.
One point given for the mere presence of each character, eight for making an effort to characterize Andrew, six off for including Alex in this story.

Plot: 6/25
Step by step: -Alex is mad -Alex reflects on an event -Andrew complains -Alex's dad complains -Alex learns Diana found someone else -Alex's parents mysteriously disappear -Alex dies
You might notice that these aren't connected. Meaning, not one is necessarily crucial to the story. And they don't even need to be in this order. For example, you could do: -Andrew complains -Alex reflects on an event -Alex learns Diana found someone else -Alex dies.
Five points for an identifiable plot. Five points for clarity. Four points subtracted for lackluster necessity.

Setting: 2/15
Time is clearly modern. Physical setting is indefinite and seems to be awfully fluid as the imagery came across as more of a blur of action than anything concrete. And no weather. What's the weather? Characters are barely intrinsically linked to setting.
Five for time being shown, thankfully not told. Three off over characters' relations to setting.

Creativity: -5/15
Brownie points for trying. Five off for lack of relatability. Six more off for an unoriginal conflict written not-so-engagingly.

Style: 5/15
Nah. Non-engaging. No devices. Syntax is worthwhile, though. I won't say diction is bad. And it's clear, so one third should suffice.

Grammar and Spelling: 2/5
Punctuation was used, albeit incorrectly, and spelling wasn't outstandingly awful. Nothing notable done. 40%.

Overall Score: 23/100

[Kannap]

Characters: 3/25
Ultimately, what do I know about the characters at the end of this story? Alex is depressed, suicidal, and harms himself by cutting. Andrew is a jerk of a "friend" who comes in and just says harmful things for the sake of being mean. Mike, the dad, just enters and asks a bunch of angered questions. Was there any reason to have the dad in the story? This Steven guy, who is an old friend of Alex and still friends with Diana, I suppose, has no place in the story. All we see of him is a text message, nothing more, nothing big. As for Diana, why is she mentioned in the first paragraph but we are not given her name? Oh! Her name is given to us near the end of the story! We see no true reason for Diana to be in the story either, we don't know who she is besides being Alex's ex girlfriend. She seems to have no emotion, nor does it seem that Alex truly has any reason to care about her or concern herself with her anymore. The story could have improved if we knew more about the situation in the past between Alex and Diana.

In all, I grew no attachment to any of the characters, nor do I care about any of them.

Plot: 3/25
So Alex harms himself and he is depressed and suicidal. He has shit friends, a shit father, a shit attachment to his ex, life seems to be shit to him. Then his parents happen to conveniently be gone moments after his father yelled at him through the door. Then suicide.

The plot doesn't seem to run together to flow cleanly. It also seems to me that there are some holes in the story that need to be filled or else we are left with questions that severely need answering. Some of the things could be removed as well and perhaps slightly improve the story. The father and the ass of a friend don't need to be in the story. Nor do we know how the friend gets to the house and bedroom to yell at turning the music off. Why is the friend randomly at the house? Why is the dad at the house one moment to yell at his son and then magically a little later, the parents are not home?

Setting: 2/15
Modern time can be inferred with this story. I assumed the setting to be in Alex's bedroom but that is never confirmed in the story. We just know he is in a room. We don't know what is outside the room or where the room is. Somehow a jerk friend can randomly arrive and get the door open to yell at Alex but the father is locked out of the room and cannot get in to yell? I didn't see Alex lock the door between the two visitors.

Creativity: 0/15
Lack of creativity, and by lack I mean I saw no creativity.

Style: 2/15
Boring beyond anything I would think of being boring. I feel like I just read a poorly written summary of a bland novel.

Grammar and Spelling: 0/5
No spaces after any form of punctuation. Also noticed a few instances where an entire paragraph was past tense, then one sentence would be found present tense.

Overall Score: 10/100

[Nazi Flower Power]

razor blade, $10; cell phone repair, $150; hospital bill, $8,000; flat characters romanticizing suicide: priceless

This made me laugh more than it should have. I am obviously a heartless Nazi bastard.

Creativity: -5/15
Brownie points for trying. Five off for lack of relatability. Six more off for an unoriginal conflict written not-so-engagingly.

I don't think negative scores are allowed...

Overall Score: 23/100

But when I do the math it looks like 1 for creativity and 22 total for everything else, so we can just go with that.

[Super-Llamaland]

Is this dead?

[Nazi Flower Power]

Is this dead?

The judges said they were working on it last time I heard from any of them. It has been a couple of days since then, though, so I am not sure if they got distracted or what.

[Conserative Morality]

The judges said they were working on it last time I heard from any of them. It has been a couple of days since then, though, so I am not sure if they got distracted or what.

Survival takes precedence. Will return to work as soon as I can.

[Nazi Flower Power]

The judges said they were working on it last time I heard from any of them. It has been a couple of days since then, though, so I am not sure if they got distracted or what.

Survival takes precedence. Will return to work as soon as I can.

OK.

I know it is time-consuming to judge these things and do it thoughtfully. That is why I did not volunteer to judge this time around and do not plan to ever volunteer again. Last time I got too cranky and brain-fried.