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Uranium Phoenix posted:One of the reasons I sometimes don't bother to enter, even if I like a prompt, is that I figure there's a pretty good chance I only get a single crit. Maybe. And sometimes its weeks after I enter that I finally get one, or get a second one. A major attractor to me with Thunderdome was timely, honest crits, and several of them to cross-reference. I've always made sure to put the effort in when I'm judge to give good crits, and it's deeply frustrating to me when people sign up to judge and don't bother. Perhaps my perception of this overweighs how often it happens. Nevertheless, "do I get my crits" doesn't feel like it should be a roll of the dice, and that is what it feels like. I understand life gets in the way (that's the other reason I often don't enter, and I know that's often why crits are late or don't materialize or a week might be especially sparse), but as with any community, TD is going to take effort to maintain. And more than just a few core people putting in effort. Ultimately, that means people stepping up if they want TD to continue to exist. I've become very bad about this. I have some okay excuses but they're pretty much just that, and I should write up and post my crits for last week tonight. Actually I'll  for that.
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Dec 24, 2022 01:41
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thunderdome winner
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I’m in for this week. No I don’t know which prompt I’m using yet, I’ll post it with the story lol. I’m new to TD this year and honestly I wonder if it would benefit from a second non-kayfabe thread for questions? Entering the “write it now!” competition was where I started instead because it was easier to understand how to. The TD thread is a little off-putting if you don’t know anyone who posts here because there’s zero chitchat allowed, just stories and crits. That keeps the thread nice and tidy, and I like the kayfabe, but I also had no idea how to participate without mucking up the vibe.
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Dec 24, 2022 01:52
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The drop in crits is definitely an issue, and I say that as one of the chief offenders.
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Dec 24, 2022 01:57
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I definitely like to spew my words without providing crits. I'll make an effort to crit at least one story every time I submit a story.
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Dec 24, 2022 02:18
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Plus, I gotta admit, many of the folks here are very talented writers, and competing against you guys may seem VERY intimidating. Now, I know some of you try to solve that by pointing at me and saying, “his writing sucks, and he still enters!” But even then, some newer person might think that them competing in Thunderdome is like trying to win a NASCAR race riding a unicycle.
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Dec 24, 2022 02:20
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You are all a bunch of whiney babies, this is a made up competition on the internet with no stakes, if you find this intimidating or can't read the long-rear end how-to-participate post at the start of the thread then I don't know how you function in society. Also THE NUMBER OF JUDGES SHOULD BE THREE and all of them should write their goddammed crits. Also also I am IN but I have no ideas so I DEMAND that all the judges give me a flashrule and they better be good ones, by golly. 
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Dec 24, 2022 03:12
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yeah i think there is some merit in maybe dropping/deemphasizing the kayfabe stuff. i dont think most people who have lasted even do it much and might just be more off putting as i think the forums are being more sincere. not to say we need to go full force backwards and we shouls still keep the brutal honesty in the crits, just that the performative nature of it all might be doing more harm than good now. also i think were just a much chiller group now than in the past which is good but should be reflected more in the thread
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Dec 24, 2022 03:15
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I have no opinions about kayfabe but I do have crits Week 541 Crits Idle Amalgam’s Black Sheep We spoke about this a bit in the discord, but I felt this was just kind of… one note unpleasant. An unpleasant man experiences unpleasant consequences, then gets raided by pirates who proceed to kill the entire crew of the ship. I kept waiting for Hughes to make a moral choice: to choose to run or choose to wake up some crew. Instead he kind of dithered and let time and pressure make the choice to flee for him. The deaths of the raiders are disgusting, which was some good use of language honestly, but even there they lacked emotional depth. Hughes seems like a man things Just Happen To, which isn’t a great place for a Hero to start, imo. Yoruichi’s Lich Grandma This was an interesting story to have following Idle’s, because it was the opposite. Kind of one-note pleasant. Undead granny found something worth giving up her life as a lich queen, her grandson. You have some nice emotional moments here, the struggle to love her own daughter as much as she loves her grandson is neatly shown. It’s sweet. But it’s also kind of a denoument, right? She had her adventures and now she’s going to work in an office. I kind of want to see Necromom Tina trying to get Angelica interested in bones, or giving her an undead puppy for Christmas or something. Which I suppose is nice: I like your characters enough that I kinda want to write fanfiction about them. Antivehicular’s: The Deam of the Mailed Hand Yes. This is what I wanted when I asked for stories of heroes before they were heroes. There’s a clear threat, a clear solution, and a clear problem with that solution, in that Ragna’s son doesn’t want to be a part of it. This is the kind of story where you can see the twist coming, but your prose is of high enough quality that when it comes it feels satisfying. I liked that you didn’t end it there, I liked that you ended it with her talking about the prophecy-dreams with her grandson. It gives the work a little bit of extra weight, and allows you to wrap it up on her departure without it feeling like the prologue to a longer work. Sebmojo’s three signs by which you shall know him In which a guy Has It All Figured Out. Honestly, I feel like if you were going to have an example pinned of “when is it fine to tell and now show,” this would be a good option. We are given precious few details about Ralph, but we don’t really need them. We know he has Good Ideas and that he has been given some incredible power to convince people to make those ideas happen. This was a pretty unique story this week, and I appreciated it for going a slightly different route. Uranium Phoenix’s Ashrota, Before He Slew the Tyrant Now this is how you write an awkward, unlucky-in-love (and maybe everything else too) protagonist. I feel for Ashrota, and I hurt for him when his girlfriend tells him she’s just not that into him. It’s sad. In some ways this is a story where not much happens, a guy was lonely and awkward, became less lonely, got broken up with, and became lonely and awkward again. But bracketed with the words about his later fame, it becomes a bittersweet image of a hero who was, after all, just some guy. The major problem with this story is the problem that a lot of short fantasy stories have: the overuse of setting jargon. I could buy the myrweaver’s guild, but coming so soon after the litany of the Sun’s Banner and the Red Field and the Seventh Reliquary and the Tyrant-King Vargolian and the Endikar Throne… it threw me out of the story a bit. Thranguy’s Gloria Tuesday and the Soul of the Devil This would have been better if you’d lead with the alt-history bits up front. I knew the 1928 games weren’t held in Havana (I looked it up later, apparently it’s Amsterdam for those of you who might need this at your next team trivia night), but I didn’t really get how alt-history it was supposed to be until you started throwing in the Steel Kaiser and the Gold Office and land dreadnoughts and airfortresses. Which is at the very end! Dude, if you’re writing a dope as hell steampunk heist leading into some spy shenanigans, start there! Also, I really struggle to believe she wouldn’t recognize her mother’s voice, unless her mother were actively trying to disguise it, and if she were doing that, it should be in the text. Windward Away’s Tiptoe This was cute. A little mousey going on a little mousey adventure and having a little mousey problem. When this story is at its strongest, it’s focusing on the gargantuan and alien surroundings of the house, and Tiptoe’s very understandable fright. Where it is weakest is when Tiptoe names some things but not others. Specifically the “vacuum creature.” This mouse knows what headphones are but thinks the vacuum is alive? It’s an issue of tone, for me. Either lean all-in on describing the alien world (the children’s book Two Bad Ants, which this made me think of, does this really well) or maybe lose the overly cutesy name for the monster of the story. The man called M’s A Thief’s Beginning This was actually pretty okay! You have a main character who has a motivation (get money by doing dirty deeds), runs into a problem (immediately gets caught), and solves it (by throwing himself on the mercy of the prince, who for some reason takes a shine to him). So that’s good! You’ve even got some nice internal monologue at the beginning where the main character rolls his eyes at himself for his naivete regarding the carriage. You do miss a trick by having him be so blase about murder so early, it makes his admission about founding a thieves and assassins oooo guild later kind of less of an interesting moral choice. It would have been better if he’d not planned to murder anyone, or had been super nervous about doing it. This is his future self telling the story, so you can take a beat to be like, “I knew how to kill a guy, it’s not that different than killing a pig. Except it’s a lot different when the guy is actually in front of you.” You’ve got your usual grammar mistakes, which honestly should be caught by any basic spellchecker. The free version of Grammarly is pretty good for this. It has definitely helped me with my comma abuse. Not cured me of it, naturally. But it helped.
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Dec 24, 2022 03:20
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Honestly, I run short on time pretty often when entering because I procrastinate until the last minute (surprise lol), which is the main reason I don't enter consistently, but I do love reading everyone else's stories each week! But since I'm new, I don't really think my judging would be appreciated as I haven't participated enough to give a formal opinion. I don't mind giving informal crits, though, if that's of any help. Just be warned, I can give constructive feedback but I'm not so great at balancing the positive with the negative.
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Dec 24, 2022 03:34
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Yoruichi posted:You are all a bunch of whiney babies, this is a made up competition on the internet with no stakes, if you find this intimidating or can't read the long-rear end how-to-participate post at the start of the thread then I don't know how you function in society. lol you and I both know I don't give "good" flash rules, but since I'm feeling nice, I'll give you a choice between these two masterpieces: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7it23TtfGYk https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q14WYsbFrJk (I will be very lenient on how much I actually expect you to incorporate these; a "vibe" is fine. Please do not write a Taco Bell commercial (unless you really want to I guess but no promises you won't lose))
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Dec 24, 2022 03:48
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Some random presents people can pick up if they want: --One day gravity stops working consistently, but only for specific items. --Someone is trying to communicate with you from the future, but the only way they can do it is through advertisements. --All the art in your house came alive overnight. --A wizard turned you into a worm, and it rules. --You keep accidentally giving people cursed gifts.
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Dec 24, 2022 04:10
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well i, for one, just wanna use this brief window where kayfabe is dropped to thank the thread for giving me an excuse to start writing again, since that was a hobby i really treasured having in grade school, but haven't really engaged in since, save a couple of rare exceptions ... life just pulled me in a completely different direction i guess; personally, it's been great authoring some extraordinarily bad words itt to try and recapture a ray of that adolescence, and it's made shaking off nearly 2 decades of dust and rust from my old writing table a fun experience overall, and i have all of you to thank for that i've also genuinely enjoyed reading some of the less bad words i've seen posted here i'll try to crit more going forward but until i shake a little more rust off, and get a better handle of this format, i know i won't be fully comfortable doing it regularly since it's the ~*outstanding, authentic, insightful*~ crits people want, not the sloppy, ignorant ones, and that kinda leap will take a bit more self-work on my end to achieve
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Dec 24, 2022 04:11
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More random presents:    
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Dec 24, 2022 04:19
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I dunno if you've gotta wait for some mystical moment of writerly purity to crit or judge. You don't get better at it by not doing it. That's why the number of judges should be three, if one person is still learning how to talk about what they find good and bad in prose the other two crits are still likely to be good.
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Dec 24, 2022 04:20
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In
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Dec 24, 2022 05:31
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IMO, nobody owes anybody anything in here in terms of crits or anything. It's helpful to the critter and crittee of course, but the only obligations here are, if you sign up you should post a story, and if it's your week you have to give a prompt and pick a winner. Those are the bare essentials to keep this thing going. You don't even need to pick a loser, and with the end of kayfabe, we probably shouldn't call out losers anymore. Similarly, without kayfabe, it might be preferable for crits to be opt-in and posted on the archive only, without in-thread crit posts. Some people don't like feeling exposed like that. At least one person said they don't join because being critiqued is difficult emotionally. Might be TD heresy but it's food for thought.
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Dec 24, 2022 06:11
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I completely understand how some people might react badly to critiques or find them emotionally difficult, but I’m not sure what such a person would gain from posting a story in Thunderdome. Yeah, it’s great to have a reason to write semi-regularly, but if you don’t want or care about criticism, why post it for a wider audience to read? You’re missing out on the chance to grow and learn from feedback, which is an incredible resource for any aspiring writer. At the very least, anybody opting out of crits should also be disqualified from winning, IMO. Anyway, I like writing and receiving crits, and I’m disappointed by how many weeks recently have had only one judge (or have had multiple judges who haven’t posted their crits), but I’m also really disappointed by my seven or so failures this year so I’m not sure I’m in any position to judge. Hoping to get back to TD with more regularity in the new year!
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Dec 24, 2022 07:20
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Re-reading my post, one thing I want to make abundantly clear is that I don’t think anybody would react badly to the crits because they’re mean-spirited, or harsh, or unfair; I’d honestly say TD has provided some of the most thoughtful and helpful feedback I’ve seen in my (admittedly limited) writing career and I say this as someone who has written my fair share of rejection letters. I’ve never seen crits attack the writer as a person and they’ve always focused on the story itself (except when to point out specific tendencies in an author’s stories, which are still always limited to literary criticism and never to the writer themselves). I do understand that receiving crits can be difficult for new authors, even if they’re written and delivered with the most care in the world, but I don’t agree the solution to this difficulty is to just … never receive crits.
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Dec 24, 2022 07:51
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One thing personally that holds me back is I don't know if my criticisms are valid, or often I feel like they aren't, but also that I might not be able to articulate what I want to say in a way that is actually helpful. From a technical standpoint I feel underqualified to speak on how anyone is writing. That said I feel like the reading of other stories and trying to make beneficial comments is in itself a process to make one's own writing better. (Even if I seldom adhere to that)
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Dec 24, 2022 08:07
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Idle Amalgam posted:One thing personally that holds me back is I don't know if my criticisms are valid, or often I feel like they aren't, but also that I might not be able to articulate what I want to say in a way that is actually helpful. From a technical standpoint I feel underqualified to speak on how anyone is writing. That said I feel like the reading of other stories and trying to make beneficial comments is in itself a process to make one's own writing better. (Even if I seldom adhere to that) youre just some dude on the internet, yes, but so is everyone on this forum. no one has any qualifications, your thoughts are just as valid and worth hearing as anyone's. if it makes you feel better, then give feedback as a reader, rather than as a writer. you certainly are qualified as a reader!
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Dec 24, 2022 08:12
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WindwardAway posted:Honestly, I run short on time pretty often when entering because I procrastinate until the last minute (surprise lol), which is the main reason I don't enter consistently, but I do love reading everyone else's stories each week! But since I'm new, I don't really think my judging would be appreciated as I haven't participated enough to give a formal opinion. I don't mind giving informal crits, though, if that's of any help. Just be warned, I can give constructive feedback but I'm not so great at balancing the positive with the negative. Never be afraid to crit, because the one iron clad rule of TD is you can't be told your crit is wrong. And despite there being literally no bar to entry, I can count the number of genuinely useless crits that I've seen in ten years on one hand.
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Dec 24, 2022 08:21
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Oh and in, give me something
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Dec 24, 2022 08:31
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rohan posted:if you don’t want or care about criticism, why post it for a wider audience to read? Because there was a prompt post saying you should. You don’t have to be an aspiring writer to have fun in the Thunderdome.
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Dec 24, 2022 08:52
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Yeah, people really shouldn't worry about being "good enough" at writing or criticism to offer crits. A big purpose of crits is just to get responses from a reader outside your own head, and that means every opinion is good and useful. A crit that's just "I liked this" or "this sucked" isn't a lot of use, but even a little bit of attempt to explain your reasoning is a huge help even if it's clumsy, as long as it's honest. "I couldn't tell what was going on" is a good crit, because that's a real reader opinion! They really don't have to be fancy or technical! Also, judging and critting (or just reading a week and thinking about it) is a great tool for thinking about fiction and improving your skills in general. I would advise everyone to try judging even if they're new or not very successful; the only real obstacle is some kind of huge scheduling issue for getting judging done, IMHO. If you can commit to writing your crits and at least PMing the head judge your thoughts within a day or two of deadline, that's all you really need. Antivehicular fucked around with this message at 09:31 on Dec 24, 2022 |
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Dec 24, 2022 09:28
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Antivehicular posted:A big purpose of crits is just to get responses from a reader outside your own head, and that means every opinion is good and useful. A crit that's just "I liked this" or "this sucked" isn't a lot of use, but even a little bit of attempt to explain your reasoning is a huge help even if it's clumsy, as long as it's honest. "I couldn't tell what was going on" is a good crit, because that's a real reader opinion! They really don't have to be fancy or technical! But I can’t count the number of times I’ve posted a story, either in the thread or for a crit swap, and had someone (usually friendly penguin) point out something to greatly improve my story that I definitely would have noticed myself … if I had another three months to put the story away and revisit later. Honestly, if you’re critiquing a story and you’re worried that your crits are too basic and obvious, rest assured the writer is still too close to the story to recognise the problems for themself. (And if it’s one of my stories, just feel free to say “I don’t understand why I should care about this character” and “this whole bit needs more clarity” on repeat.)
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Dec 24, 2022 13:06
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Oh, also signups are closed. One judge slot remains. Roster and prompts/flash will be taken care of when I'm not falling asleep!!
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Dec 24, 2022 13:32
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Antivehicular posted:Oh, also signups are closed. One judge slot remains. Roster and prompts/flash will be taken care of when I'm not falling asleep!! I will be judge 3! Yoruichi posted:You are all a bunch of whiney babies, this is a made up competition on the internet with no stakes, if you find this intimidating or can't read the long-rear end how-to-participate post at the start of the thread then I don't know how you function in society. Here's your flash from me: https://hiddenpictures.highlights.com/puzzle-games/play/603 If it doesn't work in your regular browser, try incognito. Also, have fun! You can use it as literally or metaphorically as you would like. Idle Amalgam posted:One thing personally that holds me back is I don't know if my criticisms are valid, or often I feel like they aren't, but also that I might not be able to articulate what I want to say in a way that is actually helpful. From a technical standpoint I feel underqualified to speak on how anyone is writing. That said I feel like the reading of other stories and trying to make beneficial comments is in itself a process to make one's own writing better. (Even if I seldom adhere to that) I am not a big kayfabe sort of person but if there is ever a time for it, it is when you are giving crits. You must hype yourself as the right and true opinion-haver. You don't have to write the critiques that way, but as long as you give yourself that confidence, it'll get you over the hump. a friendly penguin fucked around with this message at 14:08 on Dec 24, 2022 |
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Dec 24, 2022 13:56
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Oh, also, since this is a flash/prompt/inspiration heavy week, archivist reminder to include the prompt you chose with your story. Or if you forget when you post or don't want to fiddle with including images in a post you can't edit for fear of DQ, you can post it after the story in a separate post. Thanks!
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Dec 24, 2022 14:12
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hard counter posted:i'll try to crit more going forward but until i shake a little more rust off, and get a better handle of this format, i know i won't be fully comfortable doing it regularly since it's the ~*outstanding, authentic, insightful*~ crits people want, not the sloppy, ignorant ones, and that kinda leap will take a bit more self-work on my end to achieve WindwardAway posted:But since I'm new, I don't really think my judging would be appreciated as I haven't participated enough to give a formal opinion. I don't mind giving informal crits, though, if that's of any help. Just be warned, I can give constructive feedback but I'm not so great at balancing the positive with the negative. Idle Amalgam posted:One thing personally that holds me back is I don't know if my criticisms are valid, or often I feel like they aren't, but also that I might not be able to articulate what I want to say in a way that is actually helpful. From a technical standpoint I feel underqualified to speak on how anyone is writing. The first batches of crits I gave out when I started TD were hot garbage. They were far more beneficial to me than anyone else, because the big secret of the universe is: If you want to get good at something, you have to practice it. It was good practice for me. With critting, you're often going to start from a place of "not great" but that's fine. What I do like about TD is all entries and crits are accepted; it's a safe place to practice. And it's only through practice that one improves. Something Else posted:IMO, nobody owes anybody anything in here in terms of crits or anything.
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Dec 24, 2022 17:29
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There have been lots of words said about losertars, and people not entering because they're afraid of getting a losertar. What if there were failuretars instead? Like x number of failures you get Immortan Joe calling all your posts MEDIOCRE from the margins? Hopefully that would inspire more panicked last minute keyboard smashing and not fewer entries. Tho I can see it going either way.
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Dec 24, 2022 17:51
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i like the concept of failuretar but that would increase the cost from <=1 avatar purchase per week to potentially many, and whoever is doing the actual purchasing might have concerns about that
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Dec 24, 2022 19:04
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This is your annual reminder that I literally made you all a crit sheet you can fill in to do your crits - check the Discord pins.
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Dec 24, 2022 19:12
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Also without the losertar my comeback arc would have much less satisfying.
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Dec 24, 2022 19:14
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derp posted:i like the concept of failuretar but that would increase the cost from <=1 avatar purchase per week to potentially many, and whoever is doing the actual purchasing might have concerns about that from my understanding, AVs are essentially free since the cabal has successfully infiltrated the SA mod and admin staff
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Dec 24, 2022 20:16
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My thoughts about others' thoughts, in no particular order: Everyone can and should crit and judge! Anyone can judge a round. Of course the prospective judge should have participated enough to understand the basics of the competition, but everything here is incredibly low stakes. A writer can ignore your crit if they don't like it (though they should still be grateful that you took the time). Kayfabe: I genuinely don't see much kayfabe around here, unless you count the thread OP. There are sometimes playful callouts, but if you look back say....7 years or so, the tone of the thread would have been way more feisty and hostile. I don't think there's ever going to be a rule that says "no kayfabe ever", though we could write future OPs with a different tone for sure. Also, I don't think the odd mention of a blood god or glorious writing battle really counts as kayfabe, because that's obvious silliness. Number of crits and judges: This is difficult to address because it's always been a self-enforcing thing. TD is essentially a collective with nominal leadership, and most of the good things about it emerged from community self-direction. I used to be way more bothered by people who didn't crit or judge at all, but then I got a job that frequently and unpredictably requires that I work insane hours and under difficult conditions so I'm a bit more sympathetic. People should judge and crit, but the tools to make people do these things are nonexistent. Losing, losertars, and avatars in general: If a judge doesn't want there to be a loser, don't select a loser and no one gets a losertar. Eliminating the concept of a loser makes TD into a different contest. I'll have more thoughts on that below. flerp posted:from my understanding, AVs are essentially free since the cabal has successfully infiltrated the SA mod and admin staff TD already gets a lot of stuff for free. Flooding the mod queue with 3-5 failuretar requests every week seems like a good way to wear out our "free stuff" welcome. Also, most of the unique avatars are purchased by users. kaom posted:I’m new to TD this year and honestly I wonder if it would benefit from a second non-kayfabe thread for questions? Entering the “write it now!” competition was where I started instead because it was easier to understand how to. The TD thread is a little off-putting if you don’t know anyone who posts here because there’s zero chitchat allowed, just stories and crits. That keeps the thread nice and tidy, and I like the kayfabe, but I also had no idea how to participate without mucking up the vibe. I think a second thread is a good idea. I think there's been resistance to it before because it's basically like opening up a chat thread, but CC is slow and sleepy and I can't imagine a TD side thread hurting anything. Unless a bunch of people are like NO DON'T DO THAT and give me a really good reason not to do it, I'll probably open a companion thread with the new year's OP. derp posted:Have there ever been events or special weeks designed to draw in new writers? So, I've talked to some other mods about this, and there are plenty of them who would be keen to let TD run a one-off competition in their subforum, or bring a traveling thread there. I've also asked the admins to promote TD when they do those announcements meant to showcase stuff happening on the forums. One thing I've really been agitating for is an art and fiction showcase if/when SA resurrects its front page. I have no idea if this will happen so it's a big pipe dream, but I definitely am advocating for CC and by extension TD. Why hasn't there been a cross-forum event yet? Well tbh I just haven't had a good idea for one! And I'd need someone else to actually do the OP and run it because my life is absurdly busy right now. As far as in-thread things: I would love to see more one-off competitions and special events in CC. Chili's Write it Now competition is a good example. Also, if someone wanted to design a prompt that is specifically inviting to newbies or lurkers, that would be cool too. Another idea is some sort of referral bounty week, where you get extra words or some other boon if you get someone new to sign up. My overall thoughts are this: Anyone can create a writing contest in Creative Convention and make the rules whatever they want. Thunderdome is what it is because there has always been a very focused vibe and minimal rules. As I said above, most of the good things about the competition emerged from the community, not any top-down rules making and enforcement. That's always been a big incentive to compete and win--you get to define what Thunderdome is like for a week. And then the next person can do something totally different if they want. Or maybe they decide they like what you did, so they emulate it. Thunderdome will die one day. Maybe that day is soon, maybe it's not. I'd rather it die as itself. Having said that, I hope it carries on for a good long time, and continues to grow organically, defined by the judges and those who submit their stories.
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Dec 24, 2022 22:01
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tbh this is why i think kayfabe is a neat angle to embrace sometimes, especially if you're overly sensitive to criticism (even in a made-up competition on the internet with no real stakes), then pumping yourself up to be some kind of blood sacrifice on the altar of the dome, getting initially wrecked, only to keep getting up and coming back for more no matter how hard or how often you get pummelled by competitors who know no mercy, until through grit and determination you maybe eke out a win someday, is a really fun way of re-contextualizing the experience with an over-the-top flavour if a crit seems to really kick your teeth in, that's just the dome being the dome, don't take it too personally because there's this patina of play involved it's probably a healthier mindset to embrace in general, over being an awfully delicate soul, given the fact that, like, even professional writers got to learn to roll with the punches and take criticisms like a champ (not to mention deal with perpetual rejections that are a whole lot more meaningful than losing a made-up internet competition) hard counter fucked around with this message at 22:06 on Dec 24, 2022 |
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Dec 24, 2022 22:04
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The Gift that Will Keep on Giving prompt: there's an extra gift on christmas morning and no one knows who it is from 1471 words Christmas Eve: I was microwaving water for my French press when I saw her. I watched through the frost-rimed window as she got out of the UPS truck. She was a seasonal employee: fumbling through a pile of boxes and wearing a hi-viz vest over a coat and pants instead of a uniform. I wondered whether it was for the neighbors or us. Then the microwave beeped, and I poured hot water over the coffee grounds. The doorbell rang. She was already gone, but in front of the door sat a box six inches square and thirty inches long. “PLEASE RING BELL OR KNOCK ON DOOR,” complete with quotation marks, was printed twice at the top of the label addressed to my daughter. It was obviously a gift and Christmas Day wasn’t until tomorrow, but the package’s branding verified my hunch it was flowers. Rather than risk them dying, I called downstairs. Margarita was in her bedroom, another first-year post-college zoomer forced to live at home – not that we minded, though sometimes I think she did. “Sweetie, come up here!” “What is it?” resounded the sullen tones of someone interrupted while doing something interesting. “It’s for you!” If I’d been smart, I would’ve texted her she had something waiting upstairs and saved my voice. But I don’t always think through all the consequences. She trudged up the stairs. “What is it, Dad?” “Check the banister.” The box stood against the posts of the staircase. She looked at it with raised eyebrows, then tore it open. It revealed twenty-four red and white carnations and a spherical vase to hold them. There was no note. We sat down together to talk about it. Her refrain, “Who sent them, Dad?” echoed again and again. I did my best to ease her anxiety by talking through it with her. First things first; we went down the list of suspects. She called her boyfriend. He said it wasn’t him, though he wished it had been. Then she walked off to finish their conversation. Way to respect your dad’s time, kid. Ah, hell, I couldn’t begrudge her a few minutes of lovey-dovey chat during this micro-crisis. She mentioned Jack, her high school boyfriend, who dumped her when he went off to college, then pined for her unceasingly as he struck out endlessly with women at the University of Illinois, fruitlessly sending her tokens of affection to rekindle their relationship. We decided he was a dark horse, but he had once unexpectedly shown up outside her dorm out east. I thought it might’ve been her mother. Eighteen years divorced, and I still got a shiver up my spine thinking of her. Luisa was a bundle of untreated mental illnesses, including a diagnosed personality disorder. According to Margarita, she had stopped seeing her therapist and psychiatrist a couple of years ago because “they weren’t helping.” Margarita had a huge blowout with Luisa halfway through college, and, since then, she’s spent all her college downtime as well as her post-college life with us. Meanwhile, Luisa has used a variety of passive-aggressive techniques trying to reestablish contact with her. I thought this might be another poorly executed olive branch. Angelo, her college boyfriend, was Margarita’s prime suspect. She dumped him in her senior year when she discovered he had cheated on her. He had recently called my wife, Cathy, asking her to please get Margarita to call him. She had blocked him everywhere, he was lonely, and he had made a terrible mistake. Cathy had promised him she would tell Margarita, but that’s all she could do. Of course, she chose not to call him; after all, his betrayal had sent her into a tailspin, delaying her graduation into the summer. Margarita knew he lived relatively close to Seattle – he worked for a hardware manufacturer in Silicon Valley – and had the means to fly here on a whim. We waited for Cathy to come home to draw any conclusions. The best the three of us came up with was the flowers were a prelude to a phone call. In the off chance someone did show up, Cathy or I would handle it, as Margarita could not deal with any of these people. # # # Christmas Morning: We opened gifts when time permitted us to do it together, which was infrequent. We were busy cleaning, baking, cooking, and getting ready for the in-laws to come by in their ‘window’ for a couple of hours of family time before the party was open to all. Margarita was about to open the best gift I had picked out for her when the doorbell rang. I checked the time. Great, Cathy’s goddamned relatives had shown up early once again; for them, half an hour ahead meant on time. (I mean, if you’re half an hour early to someone’s house, just park and scroll through your phone for thirty minutes.) I asked Margarita to wait. I should have looked through the window on the way to the door, but I don’t always think through all the consequences. I plastered a smile on my face, went to the door, and opened it, saying “Merry Chris—” The face of my ex-wife stared back at me. I couldn’t help myself. “Jesus, Luisa, you look like hell.” “I drove here, slept in the car twice.” “All the way from Chicago?” She didn’t answer, just tried to come into my home. I put my arm across the doorway to bar her. “Look, we need to talk. Give me a minute, and I’ll be right out.” I closed the door before she could say anything, threw on shoes and a coat, and stepped outside. “What the hell are you doing here?” “I came to see Maggie.” “I’m sorry, but she doesn’t want to see you.” She asked, her voice raised, “How the gently caress do you know that?” “We talked about it yesterday, when the flowers came. Did you send those from the road?” She ignored my question. “I have a right to my daughter.” She sounded just like she did that day in Family Court, after which the judge told her, “Your daughter’s not your possession.” I shook my head and sighed. “She’s 22 and an adult. If she doesn’t want to see you, I’m not going to force her. Besides, I don’t have that right, and neither do you.” “But I came all this loving way!” “Margarita should’ve agreed before you did it.” “How could she? She’s blocked me on everything!” “Look, I’ve got people coming over shortly. I’m sorry, but I have to get ready. I can’t talk—” “I need—” “—None of us can talk to you. I’m sorry you came all this way. I hope you can find some solace in this Christmas somehow.” I went inside and locked the door. She stood on the porch, pounding on the door and yelling for Margarita for a few minutes. Then she harassed my in-laws as they arrived, getting into a shouting match with my mother-in-law. When we heard that, Cathy called 911 while I went outside to break it up, filming with my phone. When the cops showed up, I explained the situation and showed them the video. They spoke with Luisa, and she left, still fuming. Afterward, they told me they gave her pointed instructions to move on and not harass anyone again, or they’d arrest her for disturbing the peace and trespassing, impound her car (as it was in my driveway), and make this an even more unpleasant Christmas. # # # Now: It’s the morning of December 26th, and – man – there’s all sorts of mess to clean up. It’s early, and I’m still in my robe, a little hung over. The doorbell rings. I open it to reveal a just-greying man in a loosened tie. “Yes?” He flashes a badge, coughs. “Detective Shaughnessy, Seattle PD. You Daniel Schmidt?” “Daniél.” My heart sinks. This can’t be good. He nods. “Can I come in?” I open the door all the way. He stamps the crusty snow off his shoes and steps inside. “Is your daughter up?” “Sleeping off a high-proof evening.” “I talked to the officers on site yesterday for background. Maybe it’ll be better coming from you…There’s no easy way to say this. Your ex-wife hit an overpass abutment doing about 75 early this morning, no seatbelt. Her blood alcohol was about twice the legal limit. We’re calling it a drunk driving accident, b-u-t…” His strung-out vowel and pause are long and pregnant with meaning. “I…I get it. Is there anything any of us need to do? Identify the body?” He says no, asks me a bit more about yesterday, gives me his card, shakes my hand, then leaves me alone. The bitter fruit of two dozen flowers.
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Dec 24, 2022 22:17
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Aschenputtel main prompt, no extra gifts 639 words When the girl’s mother was sick and her magic waning she summoned all the creatures of the house and forest to her bedside and charged us to watch after her daughter. She blessed us with memories and lifespans far beyond those of our kind. When she died, she was buried beneath an ash tree, and we watch her daughter, now our girl, pray there every day. We watch her grow up to be industrious and kind. Her father remarried a woman who had two daughters of her own, and we watched our girl’s kindness and industry be twisted into a servant’s status. The cruelty is rarely overt, but the stepsisters get new beds when they grow out of their old ones, while our girl curls up on a cot a foot and a half too short for her. Our girl gets their old, worn-out dresses when the stepsisters get new things. They do fewer and fewer chores, all the while saying “oh, sister, you are so good at tending the fire, won’t you get it ready for us? Oh, I could never darn a sock so straight as our sister, please let her do it.” She did it every time without complaint. She still does it, but we can see the pain in her eyes. The hesitation. The pleading glance directed toward her father, who has eyes only for his new wife. If the girl’s mother was alive, she could cast a spell to remove the doting scales from her father’s eyes, revealing the obvious inequality in his household. But she is dead and we are just birds and mice. But birds are clever, and mice are dextrous. We help where we can. When our girl falls asleep while altering an old dress, we finish it for her. We must admit, our early projects were not great successes. But now we are confident in our craft. It takes three dozen mice and half that number of birds about two days to create a proper outfit, provided we are not expected to make gloves. We are still practicing the gloves. When the announcement comes we are all delirious with excitement. A ball! To meet the prince! It breaks our many tiny hearts to see the sisters tell her she couldn’t possibly go, what would she even wear? They ask her to help them with their dresses and tell her that when they live in the palace with the prince they will bring her to live with them. Our girl does as she is asked, but she weeps while she works. Some of us want to sabotage the sisters' dresses, to unpick some crucial stitches so that rapid movement will make the skirts fall down. It wouldn’t take long. A couple of the mice volunteer to hide in the sister’s petticoats and jump out at an inopportune moment. This, we all agree, would be hilarious, but would almost certainly be a death sentence. The castle, we understand, has cats. Clearer heads prevail. Our girl is kind, and we should be kind as well. Instead, we swarm the dress form. The starlings and sparrows place the pins while the mice and rats hold the glossy, silver fabric. Ravens and crows haul the dress back and forth from the form to the sewing table, where a badger laboriously feeds the seams through a sewing machine while a team of hedgehogs fling themselves at the treadle, one after another. An envoy is sent to every magpie we know, and in return, we are brought enough beads and sequins to embellish a pair of old shoes into works of art that shine like cut glass. We take the dress and the shoes to the tree where our girl’s mother is buried and wait for her to come and see.
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Dec 25, 2022 04:03
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Yoruichi posted:Also also I am IN but I have no ideas so I DEMAND that all the judges give me a flashrule and they better be good ones, by golly. Your flash rule is: someone receives three gifts of widely varying utility to their situation! sebmojo posted:Oh and in, give me something Your flash rule is: there is a magical flying animal, and that's a problem!
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Dec 25, 2022 04:17
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The Santa Suit 1493 words "Turn to the left a little bit, Santa. Uh-huh. Now sit up a hair straighter for me. Perfect." The camera shutter clicked a few more times. "And that's it, thank you so much for coming down." "Th-that's it?" Asked Santa Claus, struggling to maintain his perfect position. "We're done?" "We're done!" The photographer called as she clacked off into the dark recesses of the soundstage. "Oh, thank you!" It came out in a sing-song voice that Santa hadn't intended. He wanted to speak to her more, discuss the copy that would be used in the ad, but she was already gone. A swarm of assistants and functionaries buzzed around the edges of the set, starting their wrap-out. Santa stood up awkwardly, unsure where to go or to whom he should hand his prop tumbler full of apple juice. No-one would come near him, not even an agency rep. He shielded his eyes against the banks of soft white LEDs as he stumbled in the general direction he thought he had come from. Modeling wasn't Santa's usual thing, but his new business manager had made it sound fun. In truth, it was the most running around and hassle he'd had all year. Measurements, fittings, hair & make-up - hours of bother for five minutes in front of the camera. Most of the crew were naughty listers, too. He couldn't hold it against them - naughty things happen, especially these days. He hadn't bothered with the coal of it all in decades. But Santa was Santa. He saw them when they were sleeping, and he knew when they were awake. His mind still sorted them into lists, even though his scrolls and quill pens were long gone. Santa reached the door simultaneously with Imelda Christos, the fraying costumer laden down with bags of fabric and tools. "Sorry," Santa said. "You go." "No, no," she replied with a thin smile. "You go ahead." Santa smiled cherubically, his eyes crinkling like wrapping paper. "You're on my nice list, Imelda!" There was that sing-song again. The heavy duffel bag strap slipped down her shoulder, and she hefted it back up. "Okay," she grunted. Santa blinked, realizing he was still in costume. "Should I take this off?" "Um, right," replied Imelda, eyes darting around. "God." The jacket must have been expensive, since it was heavy as the dickens. He gripped the ethically-sourced fur lapels and held it open.The exterior was fine brocade, done in dark green and burgundy, but the interior was cream silk. Bright red stitching in tasteful spots made the whole thing pop. The tails reached the floor - Imelda had called it a "duster", which made Santa giggle. Plus, the matching pants and vest fit perfectly. The overworked designer finally scrunched up her face. "No, you know what? Just keep it, I'll… It's fine. I have to go." "Oh, ho ho ho, thank you!" Replied Santa, unable to contain his glee. Imelda squeezed past him through the door, into the bright cold sunlight of the parking lot off Cahuenga Boulevard. Santa didn't mind the rudeness; he had seen her send an email promising she would be home by noon to help with Thanksgiving, and it was already 12:30. Instead, he was drawn to check himself out in the mirror. The truth was, he had never looked as good as he did in that suit. He questioned whether he had ever worn a properly fitted suit in his entire life, up until that day. The cut was slimming, even as it made him look taller. And quite naughty though they were, the hair stylist had done excellent work. They had shaved his sides and coiffed a subtle pompadour in the snow-white hair on top. They trimmed his famously wild eyebrows. They had even straightened and combed his beard, and gave it a squared-off cut ending in a point on his chin. It was a strong look, and the makeup made his round rosy cheeks glow even warmer than usual. He tried on a few poses, since he was completely alone by then. Santa chuckled to himself, brimming with newfound self-confidence. "Mrs. Claus is going to love this." Santa stepped out in the parking lot and whistled for the reindeer. They left the patch of grass by the sidewalk and started trotting back to the sleigh. A voice purred from behind him. "Nice suit." Santa spun around, letting his coattails whip around him epically. "Thank you," he boomed. But he stumbled when he saw who was behind the cloud of cigarette smoke: it was Turkeah Pilgrim, the spirit of Thanksgiving. A shapely 5-foot turkey with a round black buckled hat on top of her head. She gobbled (she was trying to gasp, but most noises she made came out as gobbles). "Santa? Is that you?" "Ah, hello, Ms. Pilgrim. Yes, 'tis I." Santa's face flushed rosier than ever. They hadn't run into each other for centuries - he used to be better at avoiding her. "C-congratulations, on another year." "Oh, pff," she said, rolling her eyes and laughing in her disarming, gobbley way. "It's Thanksgiving. They do almost everything themselves. I just make 'em hungry." She grinned and looked him up and down. "But you… You must make 'em thirsty. Right? Tall glass of milk like you?" Santa laughed, rocking back on his heels. "Oh, I don't know. Not really. I spend most of my time at the North Pole. With the elves, and… my wife." "Right," clucked Turkeah, stamping out her butt. She took a few slow steps closer to Santa. "How are the elves these days? Are you a… tough boss?" "Oh, no," stammered Santa as Turkeah strolled around behind him, tracing her wingtip along his broad shoulders. He felt around the outside of the jacket for pockets to shove his hands into, but it only had flaps sewn on, with no actual pocket under them. He had to settle for the little ones on the vest. "The elves and I have a great relationship. I respect them, and I think they respect me. We actually collaborate much more than people think, it's not just–" "Listen, Santa." She was right in front of him now, straightening his tie and tidying his lapels. "I've noticed you creeping up on me. Every year, getting closer and closer. There used to be space between us. But you're filling that space, aren't you?" Santa cleared his throat, unable to form words. He felt far beyond his depth and burning hot under the layers of silk. Turkeah leaned in, her beak brushing Santa's little round ear. "Stretching yourself a little… thin?" She whispered. "Isn't it too much for one holiday spirit? Come on. Let's do it. What we talked about all those years ago. Let's combine the holidays. Leave all the old, dead traditions behind and become something new. Bigger and better. Imagine it, Santa. A non-stop month-long orgy of feasting and gift-giving, world-wide. Thanksmas. Christgiving. We could be Pilgrim Claus. Or Turkey Santa. We could even rope old Joe Chanukah into–" Her eyes were huge, and her wings encircled Santa under his jacket, hugging him tight. His head was throbbing and he couldn't think straight. Yet somehow, he was able to lurch away from her grasp, ignoring her indignant gobbles. "Ha-happy holidays, Turkeah!" He sang over his shoulder, wincing immediately at how stupid it sounded. But he didn't stop moving until he fell into the sleigh. The reindeer kicked off, and as they rose into the air, Turkeah Pilgrim hollered after them. "Why do you get all the good songs, huh? I don't get one! There isn't one good song about Thanksgiving!!" Back at the North Pole, Santa hesitated outside the door of his house. For a moment, he considered hiding the suit and having the elves turn it into dolls. But that wouldn't be nice. He stepped into the cozy two-room cottage, stomping the snow off his boots. "Sweetheart? I'm back," he called. "Already? Well good, I'm glad." Mrs. Claus came bustling around the corner from the kitchen, the tip of her nose smudged with flour. She kissed Santa, and he smiled as that old easy warmth flooded his heart, erasing all anxiety. "Why's that?" He said, taking her hand in his. "I baked your favorite cookies, of course. They're cooling off now. I need someone to help me eat them. Now take off those fancy duds, get into your PJs, and meet me in the kitchen, Mr. Claus. I'll throw a log on the fire." "Perfect," Santa muttered. He took one last look at himself in the little hallway mirror, twirled, laughed to himself, and went back to the bedroom to change. A month later, Imelda Christos was unloading wrapped gifts from her trunk at her parents' house, when she found a large red box she didn't recognize, tied with a bow. Inside it was her Santa Suit, in pristine condition, and a note that simply read Santa's catchphrase: "Thank you."
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Dec 25, 2022 05:36
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