And here is the new thread, for discussing last month's stories, posting any stories we wrote last month but didn't enter ... and of course for discussing this month's entries as they come in!
Writing Challenge Discussion — MARCH 2011
- Thread starter Teresa Edgerton
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Well I thought I was going to be first this month, but Stormfeather beat me to it by a few minutes with an excellent entry.
Mines a bit different this month, so I don't know how it's going to be received, it just popped into my head and I went with it, rather than ending up with far too many stories, and not knowing what to choose!
Mines a bit different this month, so I don't know how it's going to be received, it just popped into my head and I went with it, rather than ending up with far too many stories, and not knowing what to choose!
Wow! February What a month! Well done Mosaix.
Just goes to show that fewer days and a lack of specific genre doesn't equal a lower quality of entries.
I think my entry was still sci-fi, as my deafened soldier has his hearing returned through science (not that I went into detail). I am still considering expanding my entry into a full length short story, but we will have to see.
Anyhow, I wrote several entries last month and here are the ones that didn't make it.
You say it sounds heavenly but all I hear is blah blah blah!
He floated blissfully in a concussion drenched reverie, a weak smile upon his bloody lips. Her resolved was re-strengthened. He always played it, enjoying the memory, ignorant of the reality. She had endured enough; the rape, the pressure, the guilt, the moral self-righteous judgements, the annual embarrassment when he tried romance unaware that he celebrated her most shameful experience.
She turned the radio off, jammed the pedal down and leapt from the car.
So, that’s a no then?
I proposed to her on Klarnech, the galaxy’s most romantic moon, an ancient alien artefact.
As the atmosphere swirls over the surface and through the elaborate tunnels an unpredictable symphony plays out. Often harmony outweighs discord, but sometimes anti-cyclones form and with them a cacophony rises to an agonising crescendo, causing the local inhabitants (a type of bat) to howl, a derisive choir, making it worse.
It was so loud I didn’t hear her leave.
Welcome to the Dish Wash
He always did the washing up, it was his job. He would usually sing whilst doing it and often it annoyed me, especially when he got too loud to hear the telly. Now I’d give anything to hear him sing again, I just wish he was there now, not because the washing up needs doing, not even to drown out the noise of Marcus complaining, just because I wish he was still here, singing his stupid songs.
Admittedly the last one is 77 words, but I didn't bother to edit it down as I felt it was the weakest of my 4 efforts.
Ok, so now onto Crime & Punishement. Notice the & nor an Or like Trick OR Treat, this has to include both the crime and the ensuing punishment.
Just goes to show that fewer days and a lack of specific genre doesn't equal a lower quality of entries.
I think my entry was still sci-fi, as my deafened soldier has his hearing returned through science (not that I went into detail). I am still considering expanding my entry into a full length short story, but we will have to see.
Anyhow, I wrote several entries last month and here are the ones that didn't make it.
You say it sounds heavenly but all I hear is blah blah blah!
He floated blissfully in a concussion drenched reverie, a weak smile upon his bloody lips. Her resolved was re-strengthened. He always played it, enjoying the memory, ignorant of the reality. She had endured enough; the rape, the pressure, the guilt, the moral self-righteous judgements, the annual embarrassment when he tried romance unaware that he celebrated her most shameful experience.
She turned the radio off, jammed the pedal down and leapt from the car.
So, that’s a no then?
I proposed to her on Klarnech, the galaxy’s most romantic moon, an ancient alien artefact.
As the atmosphere swirls over the surface and through the elaborate tunnels an unpredictable symphony plays out. Often harmony outweighs discord, but sometimes anti-cyclones form and with them a cacophony rises to an agonising crescendo, causing the local inhabitants (a type of bat) to howl, a derisive choir, making it worse.
It was so loud I didn’t hear her leave.
Welcome to the Dish Wash
He always did the washing up, it was his job. He would usually sing whilst doing it and often it annoyed me, especially when he got too loud to hear the telly. Now I’d give anything to hear him sing again, I just wish he was there now, not because the washing up needs doing, not even to drown out the noise of Marcus complaining, just because I wish he was still here, singing his stupid songs.
Admittedly the last one is 77 words, but I didn't bother to edit it down as I felt it was the weakest of my 4 efforts.
Ok, so now onto Crime & Punishement. Notice the & nor an Or like Trick OR Treat, this has to include both the crime and the ensuing punishment.
If you wrote really badly about punishment, Moonbat, that might do. 
Are you suggesting my writing is criminal?
I think with your incessant punning you're the one commiting crimes...against comedy.
I could write a story with 76 words, therefore commiting the crime of surpassing the word limit and then take the punishment of disqualification.
I think with your incessant punning you're the one commiting crimes...against comedy.
I could write a story with 76 words, therefore commiting the crime of surpassing the word limit and then take the punishment of disqualification.
J Riff
The Ants are my friends..
What would you know about PUNishment...
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Moonbat - that's a sure winner
Here are my unused entries from last month:
“You are a great songwriter, perhaps better than you know,” the word whispered sibilantly, in the quiet of the night, the writer, face down in his arms hardly heard. “Perhaps not immediately, but over time your reputation will grow, your music will inspire, and you will be recognised.”
He smiled then, and the Angels long, delicate fingers stroked his head, “Not in your lifetime I’m afraid. But you will be remembered.”
In a flurry of silver wing beats the angel ascended, his celestial voice humming Were-wolves of London as he rose.
***
The two celestial beings sat in the bar, sipping Absinthe.
“It’s been a long time since anyone wrote a worthwhile song in honour of His brilliance.”
The other sighed, “Isn’t that just the truth, but you know how it is, sometimes these creative people just need the right inspiration.”
“Of course the right words at the right time...”
“Oh indeed, heh, you know like that secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord!”
On the table behind them Leonard Cohen looked up.
***
There is nothing I can do.
Coward they call me, because I will not fight.
Amid the rain, the mud, the smell of burning blood.
Two armies, before and behind.
Corpses lie beneath me, rotting into the soil.
I hold no weapon, gun nor blade.
In the pause before great armies charge, I sing.
A single perfect note.
For a moment peace touches every heart.
They charge. I die.
But always the survivors, they remember.
***
There is a song that worlds are born to,
A song to which stars live and die,
Music enough to make proud men humble,
Words to make the hardest heart cry.
It is pure and it is simple;
It's depth so complex that it gives only the lie.
To hear it is to hear nothing special,
But it is the song I write to - and within me whole universes are born, burn or fly.
***
The signs were there, but it was one thing to know it was coming, another to be ready for it.
Eyes rolled back into my head, the universe of my mind shattered, shards of image and sound; memory, imagination, perceived and unperceived reality kaleidoscoping.
An all encompassing alien scent, for a moment I knew everything.
They said my illness was controllable.
But this, this was the song of God and who could stop that?
***
It begins with cacophonic discord; then a single percussive drum that fades into a timbre of subtlety.
The symphonic overture slowly grows, the baton taps, a single horn blows, the whole orchestra comes alive. The shining stars ignite to brass resounds, the celestial winds on the thrumming strings, the planets turn to percussion sounds, life thrives in the woodwind pipes and in the soloist all the secrets are found.
Here are my unused entries from last month:
“You are a great songwriter, perhaps better than you know,” the word whispered sibilantly, in the quiet of the night, the writer, face down in his arms hardly heard. “Perhaps not immediately, but over time your reputation will grow, your music will inspire, and you will be recognised.”
He smiled then, and the Angels long, delicate fingers stroked his head, “Not in your lifetime I’m afraid. But you will be remembered.”
In a flurry of silver wing beats the angel ascended, his celestial voice humming Were-wolves of London as he rose.
***
The two celestial beings sat in the bar, sipping Absinthe.
“It’s been a long time since anyone wrote a worthwhile song in honour of His brilliance.”
The other sighed, “Isn’t that just the truth, but you know how it is, sometimes these creative people just need the right inspiration.”
“Of course the right words at the right time...”
“Oh indeed, heh, you know like that secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord!”
On the table behind them Leonard Cohen looked up.
***
There is nothing I can do.
Coward they call me, because I will not fight.
Amid the rain, the mud, the smell of burning blood.
Two armies, before and behind.
Corpses lie beneath me, rotting into the soil.
I hold no weapon, gun nor blade.
In the pause before great armies charge, I sing.
A single perfect note.
For a moment peace touches every heart.
They charge. I die.
But always the survivors, they remember.
***
There is a song that worlds are born to,
A song to which stars live and die,
Music enough to make proud men humble,
Words to make the hardest heart cry.
It is pure and it is simple;
It's depth so complex that it gives only the lie.
To hear it is to hear nothing special,
But it is the song I write to - and within me whole universes are born, burn or fly.
***
The signs were there, but it was one thing to know it was coming, another to be ready for it.
Eyes rolled back into my head, the universe of my mind shattered, shards of image and sound; memory, imagination, perceived and unperceived reality kaleidoscoping.
An all encompassing alien scent, for a moment I knew everything.
They said my illness was controllable.
But this, this was the song of God and who could stop that?
***
It begins with cacophonic discord; then a single percussive drum that fades into a timbre of subtlety.
The symphonic overture slowly grows, the baton taps, a single horn blows, the whole orchestra comes alive. The shining stars ignite to brass resounds, the celestial winds on the thrumming strings, the planets turn to percussion sounds, life thrives in the woodwind pipes and in the soloist all the secrets are found.
I'm not sure that Mosaix meant to narrow the possibilities to that extent. He may have meant Crime and/or Punishment. No doubt he will clarify that point for us.
Actually Teresa, Moonbat's interpretation is what I had in mind. But that's just the way we see it. No doubt, as in the past, everyone will come up with their own unique slant on the theme.
TacticalLoco
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jan 6, 2011
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- 342
Hi everyone,
I been reading here for a bit over a month now.
I wrote a story about a song but didn't get it posted in time.
Here goes...
***********************************************************
The sound swept her body. Resonance with bone, with psyche, with soul. The longing for that melodic created place required a tear or two. Words were an irresistible mantra, ripping bare long lost awareness of creative connections, past remembrances. The tonal trigger sending demands along long forgotten synapses. The symphony of the sleeper cell. The aria of hidden identity. Her libretto was already programed. Her freewill in tune. She knew what she had to do.
I been reading here for a bit over a month now.
I wrote a story about a song but didn't get it posted in time.
Here goes...
***********************************************************
The sound swept her body. Resonance with bone, with psyche, with soul. The longing for that melodic created place required a tear or two. Words were an irresistible mantra, ripping bare long lost awareness of creative connections, past remembrances. The tonal trigger sending demands along long forgotten synapses. The symphony of the sleeper cell. The aria of hidden identity. Her libretto was already programed. Her freewill in tune. She knew what she had to do.
Allanon
High Druid
Well done M, I have had an idea spring straight to mind however I'm not sure if I'll get time this month as I'm going to be really busy both at work and at home. I shall try however.
Karn Maeshalanadae
I'm a pineapple
Unique slant is right. Perhaps mine may have been better contained within the Seven Deadly Sins theme, but, I think it works here as well.
Karn Maeshalanadae
I'm a pineapple
That definitely would have been an interesting entry, Tact.
And I didn't say this before, but congrats on your victory, Mosaix.
And I didn't say this before, but congrats on your victory, Mosaix.
I think a tactical loco is a switcher (=shunter in UK parlance), whereas a strategic loco would be a road engine. (It may take me some time to work out how road switchers fit into this scheme.)
TacticalLoco
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jan 6, 2011
- Messages
- 342
Thanks folks, I'm very happy you liked my story. I'll be posting the Crime and Punishment story today.
I'm very pleased to have found you all.
The name was just a spur of the moment thing, but please over analyze away. LOL!
I'm very pleased to have found you all.
The name was just a spur of the moment thing, but please over analyze away. LOL!
Karn Maeshalanadae
I'm a pineapple
Oh, I never look too much into the names around here.
It's not bad, TL. For some reason it's starting to remind me of Rome and Greece all at once....
It's not bad, TL. For some reason it's starting to remind me of Rome and Greece all at once....
HoopyFrood
It's me! Hurrah!
Oooh, interesting. I was making up a 75 word story before I went to sleep the other night, wondering if the chance would arrive to use it. When I saw the new challenge now I actually had a little "whoa!" moment 'cos it's pretty much exactly the right theme!
Whether I actually use the story is another thing entirely, though.
Congratulations, Mo!
Whether I actually use the story is another thing entirely, though.
Congratulations, Mo!
Congrats on a stimulating theme, mosaix.
Crossover alert! March photography challenge is up and running in Technology...
http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/530791-march-photography-challenge-please-read-first-post.html
The theme is Zodiac, and all and sundry Chrons are invited, nay, encouraged to enter.
Here's one of my discarded ones, which I felt was too similar to others already posted.
Night
One by one, the lights went out on the Outer Worlds. First Ilanthium, then Daros, and finally, radiant Vitrine. Nothing left, only barren orbs. The last thing they heard, they said, was a song, a bringer of peace.
What was it? A weapon? Or a hypnotic to ease their passage to oblivion?
Whatever, it has come here, and there is nothing we can do to stop it.
Listen...
It's...beautiful...
Crossover alert! March photography challenge is up and running in Technology...
http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/530791-march-photography-challenge-please-read-first-post.html
The theme is Zodiac, and all and sundry Chrons are invited, nay, encouraged to enter.
Here's one of my discarded ones, which I felt was too similar to others already posted.
Night
One by one, the lights went out on the Outer Worlds. First Ilanthium, then Daros, and finally, radiant Vitrine. Nothing left, only barren orbs. The last thing they heard, they said, was a song, a bringer of peace.
What was it? A weapon? Or a hypnotic to ease their passage to oblivion?
Whatever, it has come here, and there is nothing we can do to stop it.
Listen...
It's...beautiful...
- Joined
- Mar 16, 2008
- Messages
- 3,282
Here we are again!
Another month and another challenge and another complaint.
Look! I'm getting a bit fed up with this. We all thought this challenge was a good idea way back when because it would be a nice little competition between ourselves and we could jumble a few words into a well known phrase or story and hey presto one of us would get the pat on the back and everything would be fine and dandy.
Well it's not worked out like that. It's not worked out like that at all.
I mean, and I blame a lot of this on TJ by the way, what we seem to have created is a monster. Growing and swelling as each month goes by. Soon it's going to need a separate forum of it's own. It's own web page and spin of discussion groups, reviews in The Times and in depth programs broadcast on the BBC world service.
But it's even worse than that. As the ranks of aspiring writers grows we find that it's not the old Chronies that are getting the good stories, prizes and reviews but the new young members that TJ has dragged into the competition kicking and screaming with terrible threats of retribution if they don't.
So what do they do. They go away and write absolute 'pearlers' which put us all to shame and make us wonder what the point is in entering. Luckily this isn't going to be a problem for any of us soon but even so...
Take this Tactical Loco fellow. Only twelve posts and already sticking in a story of real quality. It's not fair I tell you: not fair.
Another month and another challenge and another complaint.
Look! I'm getting a bit fed up with this. We all thought this challenge was a good idea way back when because it would be a nice little competition between ourselves and we could jumble a few words into a well known phrase or story and hey presto one of us would get the pat on the back and everything would be fine and dandy.
Well it's not worked out like that. It's not worked out like that at all.
I mean, and I blame a lot of this on TJ by the way, what we seem to have created is a monster. Growing and swelling as each month goes by. Soon it's going to need a separate forum of it's own. It's own web page and spin of discussion groups, reviews in The Times and in depth programs broadcast on the BBC world service.
But it's even worse than that. As the ranks of aspiring writers grows we find that it's not the old Chronies that are getting the good stories, prizes and reviews but the new young members that TJ has dragged into the competition kicking and screaming with terrible threats of retribution if they don't.
So what do they do. They go away and write absolute 'pearlers' which put us all to shame and make us wonder what the point is in entering. Luckily this isn't going to be a problem for any of us soon but even so...
Take this Tactical Loco fellow. Only twelve posts and already sticking in a story of real quality. It's not fair I tell you: not fair.
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