Winter 2018 Short Story Contest

[Kannap]

Ugh, haven’t had any time to work on my story. Christmas has kept me super busy.

Not to worry, after Christmas has come and gone you still have plenty of time to write your short story.

Hoping to get many more short stories here; and not to worry, if we don't get two more judges, all your works will at least be judged by one person.

[Sacara]

I hope to have mine done by next week. If not, I'll just submit one of my older ones.

[Kannap]

I hope to have mine done by next week. If not, I'll just submit one of my older ones.

I look forward to seeing your entry.

[Shwe Tu Colony]

RULES

• Writing deadline is January 15, 2019 - your entry must be submitted by then and entry posts may not be edited past this date.
• 500 word minimum; 7,500 word maximum.
• Works must be your own (no fanfiction, no characters from published works, etc.)
• The story must be original (not published or previously posted on the internet)
• All forum/site rules apply, of course.

Would it be a legal move to submit something that's going to be a continuation of a prior work of mine, because I do need to continue an in-character memoir I've been writing. Also, posting the work on a separate NationStates thread after the contest wouldn't count for disqualification, yes?

[Kannap]

RULES

• Writing deadline is January 15, 2019 - your entry must be submitted by then and entry posts may not be edited past this date.
• 500 word minimum; 7,500 word maximum.
• Works must be your own (no fanfiction, no characters from published works, etc.)
• The story must be original (not published or previously posted on the internet)
• All forum/site rules apply, of course.

Would it be a legal move to submit something that's going to be a continuation of a prior work of mine, because I do need to continue an in-character memoir I've been writing. Also, posting the work on a separate NationStates thread after the contest wouldn't count for disqualification, yes?

As long as the work published here is original and isn't a copy-and-paste of something you've already published, then yes, it can be a continuation or sequel/prequel/same canon as something else you've published before. And, of course, the work is your own and you have full right to reuse it elsewhere after its been published here.

[Kannap]

Happy New Year!

This is your reminder that you have roughly 15 days to enter the contest if you wish to enter.

I'm also still seeking two more judges, but the contest will be judged by one, two, or three judges - depending on how many we have.

[Heloin]

Happy New Year!

This is your reminder that you have roughly 15 days to enter the contest if you wish to enter.

I'm also still seeking two more judges, but the contest will be judged by one, two, or three judges - depending on how many we have.

It seems I have 14 days to finish my story, or I'm rushing to finish it at the last minute

[The Grene Knyght]

tag

[Xmara]

Crap, there’s no way I’m gonna be finished in time.

Will there be a summer contest? It’ll probably be finished in time for that.

[Kannap]

Crap, there’s no way I’m gonna be finished in time.

Will there be a summer contest? It’ll probably be finished in time for that.

There will be a Summer contest, yes.

[Kannap]

You have 24 hours from the time of this post to submit your entry.

[Little Tin Hat]

So, it comes down to desperation and I enter this twaddle which was just idly throwing around some thoughts for a tale to tell.

It won't raise the literary bar - but at least might trigger others to enter.


If in doubt, ramble.

Like a yo-yo going up and down I mull over my ideas for this short story contest so far. In my hands though, a yo-yo has always been a most erratic beast which snags, twists and spins in it’s intent to frustrate me at every throw of the thing. The yarn is tangled and worn thin by my continued efforts to get a coherant flow which would be so comforting if only I could develop the technique but to no avail. So, I eventually put the gizmo down and consider my musings so far.

What ideas were jarring against each other for this magnum opus? A sorry collection of thoughts which hung about in a pathetic identification parade. Which one will eventually be fingered as the fall guy for this crime against literary acceptability?

First in line was an embarrassed pottery figure of a frog with a mouth cast in a most determined grump who wished he wasn’t associated with a particularly chirpy disneyesque toadstool with two cheeky bunnies who got him embroiled in this line-up. He cantankerously grumbled and croaked about the misfortunate of being cast in such a way which frustrated his ambitions to be a prince one day. Which princess could ever possibly kiss someone who could only promise a future as part of the austere couple in Grant Wood’s painting American Gothic, none surely.

Second up could be described as a schitzophrenic blur of my reactions to the characters and situations in the stories from the earlier contests which had a supercilous air of ‘Well, I was well written and well received unlike your drivel!’ about it. The variety of tales include those written by those still at school who could teach a lesson or two about characterisation, setting and storyline to humble this effort into meekly scuffling off in shame into the shadows as they take the plaudits they deserve.

For the third? Oh Dear! A mirror reflected my image hunched and haggered guiltily prodding a keyboard pondering my own inadequacies and indecision ‘bout these scrawlings. A vacant expression and a blank sheet to fill waffling about my creative processes in the pursuit of an entry. With nothing to say except what nonsense tumbles out of my noggin and like an impatient child on a journey continually asking, “Are we there yet?” No, not yet as the word count only provides a milestone which asks if this makes any sense yet? No, of course not I’m babbling any old s***e.

Fourth up was so forgetful that ... uh! I remember now, it is forgeting things at the most inconvenient times which has affected us all unless you obediently make and follow an endless procession of to do lists.

Fifth had a hangdog appearance as it is winter now and it was uncomfortable and in some ways treacherous to walk the track through the wood. The leaves which had been such an attractive feature for most of the year providing a chiaroscuro of dappled dancing shadows on the ground and an ever changing palatte of hues as the seasons turn. Now they have surrendered themselves to make room for next year’s display and after the last dance where they arecaught up in the whirl of the wind and curtsying with each temporary lull in it’s Autumn breath. Eventually gathered together through fell in a fatal to be crunched underfoot and rustle when kicked up by passers by. They now lay slippy underfoot amidst squealching mud and puddles which gathered in gougings made by BMXs.
Oh well! I suppose that’ll have to do and I didn’t write a story after all.

[Shwe Tu Colony]

You have 24 hours from the time of this post to submit your entry.

Well poo there goes my chance because I sure as devils won't be finishing the rest of the scene. ;-;

[Kannap]

You have 24 hours from the time of this post to submit your entry.

Since I certainly won't get around to judging today, and the end of entries was slated for Jan 15th and never specified what time during the day, the deadline has been extending to midnight EST - roughly 14 hours from now.

[Kannap]

Hoping to get around to judging the entries this weekend, within the next seven days at the longest length. Depends on how well I juggle my coursework for uni.

[Kannap]

Okay, so I'll be finally getting around to reading the entries tonight or tomorrow, then I'll be posting my comments, scores, remarks this weekend and we'll all be merrily on our ways until next time.

[Little Tin Hat]

Fate awaits. 3rd place won't be so bad a pill for me to swallow at least it's not last? Is it?

Churchill got into Harrow by writing his name and a few splodges of ink- or was it his parentage?

[Kannap]

The Running Man
By Pan-Asiatic States

---

On my recent trip from the Moon, two of my pets came with me. My rabbit, Lev; and my most trusted steed, Luisito, whose smooth mane was browner than the fields of Manhattan on a midsummer afternoon. That was the story I was telling Juno that cool autumn evening. It was quite a magnificent exchange of words.

Juno was a mighty princess whose walled bedroom concealed her from the outside world. I liked her smile. Maybe it was her father's marble walls which shined brighter than the moon's glow which made her smile, or perchance it was the feathered headrest she offered me every night; that single consciencsably charitable act which she let me and my compatriots have the pleasure of experiencing every time we came back from one of our little adventures.

That night, she put me to bed once more, and I held my tears in anxious joy- I could not await to wake up again and glance at her face once more! But I was also sad, for I would be without her again, for a very long time.

Of course, every night too, Juno would sing me a lullaby- she knows I'm anxious. A sweet, sweet lullaby that would put me back to sleep every time I felt anxious joy; she played it on her enchanted flute, that emptied every drop of its magic through its shiny tail.

But sometimes, it did not work, and I did not tell her those times. I didn't want her to think her magic did not work. That would make her feel bad too. What if they give her a lullaby too? I would not be able to speak to her, then.

Of course, they, is her father, Oranos. During these nights when the lullaby could not lull me to slumber, the shouting between the two often gave me nightmares. Those nights, I longed for Artemis to shoot her arrow down to Earth for me to grapple back unto the moon; the moon which takes away all wounds, the moon which grants sanctuary to the suffering.

I remember those nights when I longed for the moon. I remembered those nights when the sun was scorching, when it wanted to touch all and grant all cultivation. But I did not want to be cultivated. I told Apollo to stop, but he did not heed me. He fired his arrows again and again and again.

Tonight, the air is different. The moon was hidden beneath the clouds. The shouting in Olympus was roaring. I had never heard such a display of dismay before.

I wanted to fly away. So I ran away from the bedroom of marble, I ran and I ran and I ran. I reached the stables, and I took Luisito. I embraced my sweet Lev. I wanted out. We flew up above on our fiery chariot, and we did not look down. We kept going. I was scared. I was very scared.

The fire had caught on. I didn't think we could make it. It didn't feel like we could. When I looked into the sun, all I could see was the face of Oranos, who kept telling me to drop the reins. No. No. I don't want to. He'll have Juno lull me again, but I'm not sleepy, neither do I want to be. I just want to get back to the moon! My sweet moon...

As we pierced through the atmosphere, I felt myself running out of breath. No, not like this.. Please. I could almost touch the moon with my fingers..

But I was all out of time.

Olympus kept screaming in a high-pitched noise. I fell down to Earth, my body caught by little angels, who placed me on a pedestal of laurels. Oranos proclaimed the time. One-o'Clock. I could feel Juno's soft bare fingertips upon my eyes one last time before I exhausted my final breath. Damn...

I couldn't even make it to the morning.

---

"Is.. is this thing on. Ah, we're live? Okay. Good morning. Disaster struck Harlem today after the local Veteran's Hospital reported a case of murderer-turned-murdered to the police authorities. The perpetrator, Tray Birnamwood, a Purple Heart holder who had led the counteroffensive in Guadalcanal 31 years ago, had allegedly suffered from some advanced strain of psycho-emotional traumatic shell shock. He had been in treatment ever since the victory over the Rising Sun in '46. Last night, the late Wartime Hero had supposedly assaulted one of the hospital's armed guards with a syringe, tried to run for the back entrance, and was eventually caught- and shot by-accident by Dr. June Jefferson, the resident ward-to-ward therapist. As of the moment, Ms. Jefferson claims a case of innocence for being tried for murder, as the city jury struggles to figure out whether the act was completely done with the intent of self-defense.

And, that was your morning news update. Chet, back to you."

Characters: 5/20
Plot: 18/20
Setting: 12/15
Creativity: 15/15
Style: 20/20
Grammar and Spelling: 9/10

Total: 79/100

Characters: The characters are not as well described as I personally would have liked, I felt like after reading through it I didn't have any real connection or understanding of any of the characters. Though Juno had the beginnings of a beautiful description about her, it could use expanding upon and be even more beautiful.

Plot: Absolutely loved the plot, it was interesting to read and the ending paragraph was a twist that I certainly did not expect. It completely caught me off guard and I love when writers and their stories catch me off guard and completely surprise me. Well done!

Setting: The setting is one I came to understand after reading the story, in the big picture of the story as a whole, but the setting was not concrete or very clear while reading the story, but a good concept and score for it nonetheless.

Creativity and Style: Beautifully creative and interesting style throughout the story, I don't remember if I've read a story written in the same way before - fever dream followed by news report of the seemingly difficult to understand reality of what happened. It is definitely a compliment to your creativity and your ideas for how stories can be crafted in interesting and quirky ways.

Grammar and Spelling: Overall well done on the grammar and spelling, I think there was one instance where a comma looked like it didn't belong and another instance where a word in present tense appeared surrounded by words and sentences that were past tense, but overall well done on this area of the scoring.

[Kannap]

Color me interested. I have a short story I did for an assignment a while ago. I'll use that, as soon as I can find it.

The Last Battle
By Pax Nerdvana

Whoever finds this, I want you to to know what happened during the final battle of the Third Interstellar War. Our ship, the USS Patton, of the Terran Alliance, was hurtling towards Earth. We all knew we wouldn’t be coming back when we answered the Fleet’s call for every ship to rendezvous for a last stand in the Terran system. Upon getting the message, we jumped into hyperspace. We were out near Betelgeuse, so it took us a week to get there. We didn’t know what we would find.
We dropped out of hyperspace, right into the middle of a massive battle. The call to general quarters went out. As soon as the alarm hit, I ran to my station as a gunnery lieutenant on deck seven. There was a bug frigate nearby, hanging in space like some predatory bird. Plasma lit up the area, and nukes detonated with a puff of light as they hit their targets. It was chaos. Orders came down from the bridge to fire on the frigate. I ran my fingers across my console, flipping switches. Following that, I pressed the fire button, sending a pair of nukes on their way. Just at that moment, the ship shuddered.
Our shields had taken a hit from enemy plasma guns and a nuke, and I saw the blood red shielding flicker. The shields would hold out for at least a while, so we were fine for the time being.
A voice crackled over the comm unit,”Missile battery 7a, target six nukes on that frigate. Aim for the engines. We want her disabled, so we can board her.”
I replied, “Wouldn’t it just be easier to eliminate the frigate?”
“Yes, that would be easier, but that’s not what the brass want.”
I shook my head in disgust, and said,”I’ll do it, sir.” My fingers danced across the console, punching the proper buttons, flipping a few switches, and pressing the fire button, sending the nukes on their way. The nukes detonated against the bug ship, causing the glowing blue shields to ripple. Our shields shuddered again, as hot plasma slammed into them. The lights went out for a second.
Just then, another bug frigate appeared, next to the first. The bugs were beginning to notice us. The second frigate unleashed a broadside of missiles at us. The comms were filled with chatter and swearing. I launched six more nukes at the first frigate. My battery only had six left, with no hope of getting refilled.
I targeted them carefully on the first frigate. I carefully inputted the data into the targeting computer. I pushed the “ARM” buttons for each launcher. I flipped the safety switches off. I pressed the “FIRE” button and the six nukes shot out of their tubes into space, riding columns of fire. They impacted on the frigate’s shields, shortly followed by a barrage of plasma. The blue shields fizzled and went dead.
There was a cheer from everyone. We focused our fire on the damaged frigate, pouring plasma and nukes into it. Its reactor went critical. It detonated with the light of a nova. The other frigate intensified its fire on us. Our shields began flickering and shuddering. The lights went out for a second. And all I could do was watch, as my battery had no missiles left.
After one final barrage, our shields flared, flickered, and faded. Plasma blasts and nukes shook the ship. The lights flickered, and began failing.
The captain’s voice came over the intercom, ”All systems are failing. We’re losing power, artificial g, and oxygen. Prepare to abandon ship. Calmly make your way to the nearest escape pod and evacuate.” I stood up out of my seat, and began quickly walking out into the hallway. There was an escape pod nearby, so I headed there.
I wasn’t the first to arrive. There were already six people there, but there were still a few free seats in the pod, so I climbed through the hatchway, and went to a seat. I strapped myself in, and readied for breakaway. One more person came running through, just as the lights failed, followed by the red emergency lights coming on. In the red glow, he dogged the hatch behind him and strapped in.
Someone called out,”Ready for breakaway? If not, we’re still breaking away.” He flipped a switch, and the pod’s engines ignited, breaking us away from our dying ship. We floated there for what seemed like hours, watching the battle from the portholes, watching as our ship’s reactor go critical and detonate with a bright flash.
That’s when I started typing this. Our pod doesn’t have the supplies to last more than another day or two. I want whoever finds this to know that we tried our best, and gave it our all. It’s over -- finished.

Gunnery Lieutenant David Smith, signing off.

Characters: 1/20
Plot: 12/20
Setting: 10/15
Creativity: 9/15
Style: 12/20
Grammar and Spelling: 10/10

Total: 54/100

Characters: There is no character develop in this story, and I reckon that's okay because there's not supposed to be character development because its such a short period of time: the recount of a battle. Though it makes it difficult to give a score based on characters when it's just a diary excerpt from the narrator/main character and barely any mention of characters/details of characters.

Plot: It was an interesting concept, to say the least. Unfortunately I've never been one for space battles and galactic wars - never the fan of Star Trek or Star Wars. But I like that you wrote about something you liked, I assume, and the plot seemed pretty straightforward even if it felt rushed, so there's a good score here.

Setting: The setting appears to be pretty straightforward: a battlefield in outer space. Even down to the part of the ship our character/narrator is on before he flees via his nearest escape pod.

Creativity and Style: The creativity was there, in a fair way. Galactic battles are a concept and idea that have been blasted on repeat for decades, but you add your own sense of style and flavor to it, even if in a very short story about one guy's point of view in a battle. I'm sure that you could manage some very interesting world-building around this story, in which you profess what war is happening, who's fighting, why they are fighting, etc.

Grammar and Spelling: I don't believe I noticed any grammar or spelling issues upon reading the story.

[Little Tin Hat]

just mine to go now- me thinks?

so when you get round to it - that would be nice.

[Kannap]

just mine to go now- me thinks?

so when you get round to it - that would be nice.

Plan is to get it done this weekend. Been busy between work and university.

[Pax Nerdvana]

Color me interested. I have a short story I did for an assignment a while ago. I'll use that, as soon as I can find it.

The Last Battle
By Pax Nerdvana

Whoever finds this, I want you to to know what happened during the final battle of the Third Interstellar War. Our ship, the USS Patton, of the Terran Alliance, was hurtling towards Earth. We all knew we wouldn’t be coming back when we answered the Fleet’s call for every ship to rendezvous for a last stand in the Terran system. Upon getting the message, we jumped into hyperspace. We were out near Betelgeuse, so it took us a week to get there. We didn’t know what we would find.
We dropped out of hyperspace, right into the middle of a massive battle. The call to general quarters went out. As soon as the alarm hit, I ran to my station as a gunnery lieutenant on deck seven. There was a bug frigate nearby, hanging in space like some predatory bird. Plasma lit up the area, and nukes detonated with a puff of light as they hit their targets. It was chaos. Orders came down from the bridge to fire on the frigate. I ran my fingers across my console, flipping switches. Following that, I pressed the fire button, sending a pair of nukes on their way. Just at that moment, the ship shuddered.
Our shields had taken a hit from enemy plasma guns and a nuke, and I saw the blood red shielding flicker. The shields would hold out for at least a while, so we were fine for the time being.
A voice crackled over the comm unit,”Missile battery 7a, target six nukes on that frigate. Aim for the engines. We want her disabled, so we can board her.”
I replied, “Wouldn’t it just be easier to eliminate the frigate?”
“Yes, that would be easier, but that’s not what the brass want.”
I shook my head in disgust, and said,”I’ll do it, sir.” My fingers danced across the console, punching the proper buttons, flipping a few switches, and pressing the fire button, sending the nukes on their way. The nukes detonated against the bug ship, causing the glowing blue shields to ripple. Our shields shuddered again, as hot plasma slammed into them. The lights went out for a second.
Just then, another bug frigate appeared, next to the first. The bugs were beginning to notice us. The second frigate unleashed a broadside of missiles at us. The comms were filled with chatter and swearing. I launched six more nukes at the first frigate. My battery only had six left, with no hope of getting refilled.
I targeted them carefully on the first frigate. I carefully inputted the data into the targeting computer. I pushed the “ARM” buttons for each launcher. I flipped the safety switches off. I pressed the “FIRE” button and the six nukes shot out of their tubes into space, riding columns of fire. They impacted on the frigate’s shields, shortly followed by a barrage of plasma. The blue shields fizzled and went dead.
There was a cheer from everyone. We focused our fire on the damaged frigate, pouring plasma and nukes into it. Its reactor went critical. It detonated with the light of a nova. The other frigate intensified its fire on us. Our shields began flickering and shuddering. The lights went out for a second. And all I could do was watch, as my battery had no missiles left.
After one final barrage, our shields flared, flickered, and faded. Plasma blasts and nukes shook the ship. The lights flickered, and began failing.
The captain’s voice came over the intercom, ”All systems are failing. We’re losing power, artificial g, and oxygen. Prepare to abandon ship. Calmly make your way to the nearest escape pod and evacuate.” I stood up out of my seat, and began quickly walking out into the hallway. There was an escape pod nearby, so I headed there.
I wasn’t the first to arrive. There were already six people there, but there were still a few free seats in the pod, so I climbed through the hatchway, and went to a seat. I strapped myself in, and readied for breakaway. One more person came running through, just as the lights failed, followed by the red emergency lights coming on. In the red glow, he dogged the hatch behind him and strapped in.
Someone called out,”Ready for breakaway? If not, we’re still breaking away.” He flipped a switch, and the pod’s engines ignited, breaking us away from our dying ship. We floated there for what seemed like hours, watching the battle from the portholes, watching as our ship’s reactor go critical and detonate with a bright flash.
That’s when I started typing this. Our pod doesn’t have the supplies to last more than another day or two. I want whoever finds this to know that we tried our best, and gave it our all. It’s over -- finished.

Gunnery Lieutenant David Smith, signing off.

Characters: 1/20
Plot: 12/20
Setting: 10/15
Creativity: 9/15
Style: 12/20
Grammar and Spelling: 10/10

Total: 54/100

Characters: There is no character develop in this story, and I reckon that's okay because there's not supposed to be character development because its such a short period of time: the recount of a battle. Though it makes it difficult to give a score based on characters when it's just a diary excerpt from the narrator/main character and barely any mention of characters/details of characters.

Plot: It was an interesting concept, to say the least. Unfortunately I've never been one for space battles and galactic wars - never the fan of Star Trek or Star Wars. But I like that you wrote about something you liked, I assume, and the plot seemed pretty straightforward even if it felt rushed, so there's a good score here.

Setting: The setting appears to be pretty straightforward: a battlefield in outer space. Even down to the part of the ship our character/narrator is on before he flees via his nearest escape pod.

Creativity and Style: The creativity was there, in a fair way. Galactic battles are a concept and idea that have been blasted on repeat for decades, but you add your own sense of style and flavor to it, even if in a very short story about one guy's point of view in a battle. I'm sure that you could manage some very interesting world-building around this story, in which you profess what war is happening, who's fighting, why they are fighting, etc.

Grammar and Spelling: I don't believe I noticed any grammar or spelling issues upon reading the story.

I just saw this. Thank you for judging!

[Kannap]

@Little Tin Hat, I'll get yours scored tomorrow. No excuses (my excuse for today is my astronomy homework is due tonight and takes priority).

[Little Tin Hat]

Cheers, for that.

If you run another, your time permitting, maybe you should telegram the nations that showed interest in this contest so they're 'in the know' and can enter.