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Welcome to the Flash Frontier contest and submission rush! logo is flash frontier's What is this? Flash Frontier is a New Zealand-based micro fiction publication that has featured many goons over the years. It's high time we overload their inbox once more! They are currently open to international submissions for their December issue. The current theme is wonder.  As you can see, their maximum word count is tiny! 250 is a hard upper limit. They won't accept stories that are 251 words. You could totally write 250 words about wonder. Why a contest? Because it's a fun excuse to give out prizes and kudos. There won't be a loser and participants can opt out of crits if they want to. Just post something like no crits please with your submission. That said, if you intend to submit your story to Flash Frontier, I highly recommend allowing critical feedback. How does this work? You submit a story between now and November 23 at 11:59:59PM PST (that's one week from today). The story is judged by November 25. If you didn't opt out of crits, you'll edit your story based on whatever feedback you received. After that, you'll hopefully submit it to Flash Frontier! While judging is in progress, I'll strongly encourage folks to critique each other (respecting those who don't want that type of feedback). Can I just submit to Flash Frontier without doing this contest thing? Of course you can. Feel free to let us know in this thread so we can cheer you on! Can I do the contest without submitting to Flash Frontier? Yep! What do I get if I win this contest? Winner is entitled to the avatar of their choice AND a donation of $25 to the charity of their choice Runner up is entitled to an avatar of their choice OR a donation of $10 to the charity of their choice. What if I already wrote a WONDER story for the Thunderdome birthday week? You can edit it and enter it again here. It will be judged like a new story against all the other stories. You can also write a completely new story if you want to. Flash Frontier submission guidelines A note about submissions: Like most magazines, Flash Frontier doesn't publish things that have been featured elsewhere. However, they make a distinction between prior publication and workshopping sites. I would say Creative Convention counts as a workshopping site, not a publication. It's up to you whether or not you disclose that you posted on SA first. This hasn't been an issue in previous submission rushes, but they mention it on their site so I'm mentioning it here. Good luck! Feel free to ask questions if anything isn't clear. Sitting Here fucked around with this message at 05:54 on Nov 17, 2022 |
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Nov 17, 2022 05:44
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250 words!? Does cc have any good study threads or whatnot? That's a very low word count.
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Nov 17, 2022 06:04
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Killer-of-Lawyers posted:250 words!? Does cc have any good study threads or whatnot? That's a very low word count. I'd recommend reading the Flash Frontiers archive if you want a good sample! All they publish is in this range. It's tight but really fun to create, imho.
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Nov 17, 2022 06:05
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Based on something else I was working on (hope that's kosher), but what the hell? 250 words is not a lot, it turns out.Wallet posted:A breath she stared them down. Too long. One step before another. Down. Her boot’s drum drew apart to ring hollow. Dark swallowed must and ash. Not long enough. Wallet fucked around with this message at 16:09 on Nov 21, 2022 |
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Nov 17, 2022 16:29
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While I’m struggling to fit in time to figure out how to rework the piece I wrote for TD’s birthday celebration, might as well attempt to lend a hand elsewhere.  Wallet posted:Based on something else I was working on (hope that's kosher), but what the hell? 250 words is not a lot, it turns out. I love the mood of this. The choppy sentences, the descriptions, it’s got a strong vibe. But I also have no idea what happened - I got lost in whether the bones were a metaphor describing something else (the brazier? The location?) or whether they were literal bones. I don’t understand what takes place or where. Is she walking down stairs at the start? Is it a crypt? I think so, and she’s looking for someone important to her? I get the sense of regret very clearly, I just wish I understood the location.
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Nov 19, 2022 22:26
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The setting reminded me of the Sedlec Ossuary, which is very cool (assuming the bones are literal, not metaphorical). I had the same struggle as kaom to understand what was going on. I reread it a few times and got a better idea, that it's a woman finding the body of someone important to her, but now my question is: how did she recognize him among all the other bones? ** Here's what I've written, feedback welcome. The Visitor In dawn’s light, gray as her hair, she walks along the beach. The west coast waves are quiet, exhausted by last night’s storm. The expanse of sand, the salty cold air, and the effort of moving her legs fill her senses and drown her thoughts. There’s not much left: the kids departed, returning to their faraway lives. Their house is empty, hers alone, but she hasn’t decided what to do with it yet. The beach is the same. Out of habit, she counts the birds. Seven gulls circling, two dotterels scurrying, one gannet flying over the surf. The line between the bulky land and the massive sea, shifting with the moon but always here, on the beach. A black dot against the clouds shakes her from her reverie. Too big for an oystercatcher, the wrong shape for a shag. She stops, her heartbeat accelerating like a rusty motor coaxed back to life. It is a frigatebird. Though it is far from its native tropical waters, the elegantly curved wings and long streaming tail are unmistakable. She is the only person on the beach. She imagines she sees the red patch at its throat. Its long hooked bill dips to examine the land below it. Seeing her, the frigatebird wheels around and flaps its great wings once, gliding back out to sea. For the first time in months, she feels fortunate to be here. The beach is the same again, but she too turns for home. Above her, the gulls cry.
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Nov 20, 2022 01:46
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My Shark Waifuu posted:
This has a wonderful, stark loneliness to it. The wonder of seeing something out of place but still beautiful. I wondered why she had to do anything with the house, why she was walking alone. I got the impression that maybe she'd recently been widowed. I don't know if making that obvious in the text would make it a stronger piece, but if that's not what happened maybe making it clearer would be worth it? *** Similarly, here's what I've got, feedback very welcome. Childhood One morning along the well-trod path to the playground you saw the most beautiful rock you’d ever seen glittering in the dust. You stopped and knelt next to it, fascinated. The word “rock” didn't do it justice. This wasn't a common, dull lump. It was dark as night. It drank in sunlight and reflected it back in countless rainbows. You saw colors there that you'd only seen on the wings of grackles that flocked around your house. It was warm in your hands, with a lacey, crisp surface that reminded you of an oatmeal cookie. It smelled like sunny days in the park. Its beauty overwhelmed you, and you lost the words to describe your emotions. On another day it might have brought you to tears. Instead, you brought it to me. “Mommy! Look!” You pressed your discovery against my thigh. I accepted your treasure with a bewildered smile. “Oh, how lovely! It's a piece of asphalt.” “It’s beautiful,” you breathed. “It’s so shiny. So pretty. It’s for you. I want to keep it. Can you hold it for me?” “Sure, bud.” I carried it and you back to the house. Once home, you placed the chunk of asphalt reverently onto the pile of treasures you'd collected from previous walks. Hours later the rock would be forgotten, washed away by promises of ice cream and Octonauts. Next week there will be another walk, another discovery, and those too will join the growing cairn next to our door.
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Nov 20, 2022 02:20
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Edit: Removed
Uranium Phoenix fucked around with this message at 17:51 on Nov 27, 2022 |
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Nov 20, 2022 22:04
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Creation 242 words Maple tree seeds helicopter from branches, launched by the bouncing of bantering crows. Cicadas whine in harmony with leaf blowers. This symphony beckons my neighbors to their windows to slam them shut and sequester themselves with silence. I step into the backyard, intent on encapsulating summer’s glory. A crimson cardinal shrieks in the mulberry. Each call erupts into the air, luring me and a soft-feathered mate. I sit so as not to interrupt the ritual and I become a hill for ants to traverse. They set down paths in care of their comrades and of their future selves. Who am I to disrupt their wavy way? Instead I watch, wide-eyed. The crabgrass and clover and chickweed stretch up and out in directions of least resistance. Their flowers emanate intricate perfumes too subtle for proper appreciation until their stems reach level with my nose. Insects swarm, enticed by the intoxicants of over ripened rinds. I become an anchor point for spider webs that shine in sunlight and glisten in moonlight before breaking and becoming wisps in the wind. The off-white paint on the cedar fence peels in a golden ratio of gravity. Rats weave between my feet, twitching their noses and relishing the overgrown bounty of the backyard. Musical knocks resound around me. The landlord announces she is here to evict me unless I enact a will upon these unsightly wonders. I remain seated, paralyzed by the process and unmoved by the urging.
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Nov 21, 2022 02:25
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^^Oh, forgot to say that feedback is most welcome.Uranium Phoenix posted:Monument You didn't mention. But you're always so keen on crits being the best part of TD, so I took the liberty. All of these are my impression and what images your words conjure in my mind. If the words you chose still achieve what you want, leave them. I really like the image of the first paragraph. The setting is stark and vivid. I got slightly hung up on the word harrowing because my brain wants it to be the adjective and not the verb. But with its two meanings, it also fits the mood nicely. Not saying to change it, just that it gave me a bit of pause. Two typos "A night, rows of rats" instead of "At night" and "glittering in in every crevasse", needs an in removed. I kind of want something more evocative than "smelling like heaven" since I don't know what heaven is to the people in the story. Unless this land is heaven. Or was or has become in stories because that would be interesting. That heaven is a place that used to be and the smell of roasting rats reminds them of it. Love the comparison of the steel to beasts of burden and storms along black stone paths but I'm not sure if "ran" is the right verb to use for this, since it implies a motion that I wouldn't associate with unmoving structures. Looms maybe? Towers? After that, the images, again, are very vivid and the setting is clear to me. But I think I'd rather this paragraph tell me more about the life they lead now, after the crumbling. (Or do so in addition to.) And I want to know more about this life that continues after. That's what would have me in wonder as a reader.
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Nov 21, 2022 02:42
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Appreciate the crits; I already aggressively cut words, so with a 250 word limit I may have (did) go a bit overboard. The bones are literal; it's an ossuary.My Shark Waifuu posted:The Visitor I like the melancholy of the wonderful becoming pedestrian and the joy of being jolted out of that. The last couple sentences leave me melancholy, again. The car metaphor pulled me out of it a little; we're firmly in the natural world, then it's a rusty motor and then we're back again. Chernobyl Princess posted:Childhood This took me on a little journey: it captures a childlike wonder but the degree of introspection had me a little confused until it gets paid off. I feel like the reveal might be stronger without "Instead, you brought it to me." When this story is being told got a little fuzzy for me. It's written in second person, but some of it uses language that doesn't seem directed at an age appropriate child, and describing it as a "bewildered smile" to the delighted child feels unkind. I might assume this was being told to the child when they were older except the last sentence refers to next week as if it hasn't yet occured.
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Nov 21, 2022 16:54
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I'd appreciate some feedback on this piece, which is the same one I submitted to Thunderdome in August. The crit I got from that was basically "nice breezy little nothing," which is fair enough, but it doesn't give me much to go on. Is this worth revising to submit, or should I scrap it and go find 250 more words somewhere? Anyway: Wondering and Wishing It's the birthday of someone you used to love. You memorized it long ago, back when every fact about himself he shared with you was a gift, and it's never left. Every year is the same: the realization, the wondering where he is now, and then the well-wishing. It's easy to wish misery on people in concrete terms, but it's much harder to wish them joy: you can hope that he's living his best life, but what would that even look like? You haven't seen him in twenty years. You settle for a sort of interior-design-magazine image of happiness, whites and greens and sky blues, a beautiful home for him to to be happy, safe, self-actualized. You don't know whether to picture a partner or children or pets, or even what he'd look like now, so you keep the figures blurry as you send ambient love out into the universe for him. Be well. Be great. Thank you for being my friend for a while. Sometimes, you wonder if anyone's thinking of you the same way. You think unbidden of a boy who sat behind you in freshman English, a boy who wrote three paragraphs in your yearbook that year. You were hazy on his name then and surely don't remember it now, and probably he doesn't remember you -- But you wish him well, anyway. There's surely enough love in you to go around.
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Nov 21, 2022 22:07
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Antivehicular posted:I'd appreciate some feedback on this piece, which is the same one I submitted to Thunderdome in August. The crit I got from that was basically "nice breezy little nothing," which is fair enough, but it doesn't give me much to go on. Is this worth revising to submit, or should I scrap it and go find 250 more words somewhere? It is nice, but it reads like a thoughtful Tumblr post and I mean that in the very best way. I probably wouldn't submit it as flash fiction. I feel like it lacks a twist in it to be memorable.
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Nov 22, 2022 01:31
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I said I would post this so I’m doing it, although it’s way too rough and long. Thoughts much appreciated, although I expect them to be pretty high level lol. Cradle to Cradle 290 words While she lived, Susan shared a final wish: “Bury me at the beginning.” Space would’ve been easy, if she’d meant the Big Bang. Even a volcano wouldn’t be too bad, if she’d meant Earth. But she was Susan, so naturally she meant the bottom of the ocean. And the “beginning” didn’t mean where you began, the sandy shallows where crabs inspire guilt for stepping on them. Nor the reefs you can tour in a little glass-bottomed boat. It meant the bottom, where male angler fish spend brief lives in search of a mate to parasitically attach themselves to, where the blobfish roam, where there’s no light except your own. Most people don’t extend their bucket list to the posthumous, but since nothing with bones can live down there Susan was smart to wait. They wouldn’t last anyway, not once the boneworms got to her. Unless she happened to land on a geothermal vent, a bonus volcano burial, after I threw her overboard (I promised I’d be law-abiding once she was gone, so that didn’t count yet, and anyway she asked me to). Not a scrap would be wasted either way—if the giant tube worms didn’t like her, maybe the squid would. But everyone liked Susan. She’d spare the hat off her head against the sun, and tell you how urchins did the same with bottle caps so don’t fret about losing yours. She didn’t—lose enough plastic, she figured, and the ocean will find a use for it. Probably starting with bacteria. It’s usually like that. The ocean, where life began. The place she wanted to go but couldn’t find a way to reach. The only law at the bottom was survival, so Susan would go on breaking it forever. She’d like that.
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Nov 22, 2022 07:48
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kaom posted:I said I would post this so I’m doing it, although it’s way too rough and long. Thoughts much appreciated, although I expect them to be pretty high level lol. I think this one suffers from not having a tight focus. It is only barely a story at already 40 words beyond the limit. It tries to answer the following questions: 1. Why does Susan want to be buried at the bottom of the ocean? 2. What is the bottom of the ocean like? 3. Who was Susan? (and why should we care) It's trying to do too much. There's an aside about the POV character that is pretty neat, but weakens the story's focus and is just unnecessary fat for the format.
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Nov 23, 2022 01:58
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a friendly penguin posted:Creation I would take a look at the placement of certain things. For example, first you have "cicadas whine... with leaf blowers" and neighbors slamming shut windows. One assumes the narrator is outside already to observe this, but you have them stepping outside afterward. This nod to an omniscient view doesn't seem right with a first person narration. It also seems largely irrelevant what the neighbors are doing. I like the line "I become an anchor point for spider webs..." because it speaks to the image I think this piece is trying to convey; that the narrator is in the center of this gyre of nature. We get heavy description of this nature, but I'm not sure the wonder of the narrator is sufficiently developed. "Rats weave between my feet..." seems over the top. This leads into "the landlord announces..." but a rat infestation speaks more to the quality of the house than the wonder of the backyard. I don't know if I like the landlord being there in present tense. It's abrupt, and comes at the end of the story without much foreshadowing. The story seems to want this choice of inaction to be central, that the narrator is supposed to clean up the backyard, but doesn't want to. I think that point, and how they see that backyard, needs to be developed more. It needs to trim the parts that aren't relevant (this could actually be the neighbors or the landlord; either one can be pressuring him to clean up the yard but you only need one here) and probably remap a lot of the descriptions, keeping them more in line with two themes: That other people see them as a nuisance, and that the narrator sees them as wondrous. If a description doesn't do one or both of those, you might consider cutting it. I would focus on the less cliche descriptions that are less conventionally wondrous, like your crabgrass and peeling fences as you do that. It's the unique part of your story. Finally, I would leverage your title. This is not a moment of "Creation" (imo) and I don't see one in the story. I do see the meditations of a narrator who finds beauty in the unconventional. The title should allude to that, like "Condemned Meditations" or "HOA Sacrilege" or the like.
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Nov 23, 2022 06:35
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The Late Delegation (draft 2) 246 words The last living human on planet Earth stretched across the blast zone to grasp two handfuls of irradiated dirt, croaked a whisper, and expired. Moments later, the saucer landed. The Tau Ceti delegation unfurled itself onto the glowing sand, unwitting for all their pomp and finery. A six-legged dog-thing flashed a silvery cape while a lithe reptilian trilled a glorious song. Even the saucer itself seemed to join in the dance. But their diplomat lord was most resplendent of all. Iridescent pants dangled off wide hips, and a hot pink blouse billowed around several shoulders. She somersaulted down to Earth with the confidence of the Milky Way's rotation, soaring on the promise of intergalactic harmony. We remained silent. Finally, the diplomat cracked open her ninth eye, and saw us. Our broken backs, our crushed skulls, our burnt flesh, our wasted blood. Our endless need and our needless end. We had mangled each other while the aliens were touching up their make-up, and bled out while they were knocking on the door. The diplomat bit one of her tongues. There was nothing more to say. It had happened so fast, and she was too late. A ritual bonfire guttering out in a pit. She curled in her many-knuckled hand, and the retinue scurried into the saucer. As they drifted back out to the cosmos, the dog-thing issued a mournful howl. “I was looking forward to meeting them,” it whined. “I'll always wonder if we might've been friends.” Something Else fucked around with this message at 08:37 on Nov 24, 2022 |
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Nov 23, 2022 09:20
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Just over 2 hours left to submit to the contest! I will try my best to have it judged by Friday night, which should leave time to make any changes.
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Nov 24, 2022 06:53
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Will this thread remain open for last-minute submission discussion and crits? I have a new idea but probably won't have a chance to together a draft for a few hours.
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Nov 24, 2022 06:55
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Yes! Feel free to discuss and exchange crits, though please don't edit existing posts containing stories because I need to know what I'm reading isn't going to change under my nose. Submissions officially closed. I won't be considering any stories or edits posted after this post.
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Nov 24, 2022 09:43
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Late for the contest, but worth a go at producing something better than "nice Tumblr post," I guess: The Last Button The wonder of space exploration dies for Shareese when the first warning light flickers on the ship's console. In the frantic days that follow, she realizes just how much wonder is an emotion that requires safety: that wistful, open-eyed curiosity about the world can only come from someone who knows where their next meal is coming from. As the ship breaks down, Shareese starts losing track of where her next breath is coming from, let alone food. She changes from scientist to shaman, memorizing the settings of knobs and presses of buttons that silence the alarms, keep the engine from going too loud or too silent, and keep the dispensers spitting out enough protein ration to keep her alive. She doesn't dare look at their bearings. She doesn't want to know more than she has to. The curiosity creeps back in as the fear starts to die away, stress reaction burning itself out. It only makes sense, really; there are two ends to the bell curve of hope, and if wonder thrives at the happy end, why shouldn't it at the other extreme, when there's nothing else left worth thinking about? The "what the hell" point, Shareese calls it in her mind as she stares at the last button on the console she hasn't pushed. It's unlabeled and recessed, covered by a glass lid. What does she have to lose? Why not? "What the hell." Flip. Press.
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Nov 25, 2022 13:00
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Antivehicular posted:Late for the contest, but worth a go at producing something better than "nice Tumblr post," I guess: I like this. It manages to cram both a plot and a point in the 250 words, which we all know how hard that is. I like that it starts with the "expected" wonder but then immediately dashes it in favor of exploring the other. For the knit picks: this doesn't need "let alone food." It's implied enough from the previous sentence and maybe changing to a stronger "loses" instead of starts losing. Saves you a few words. And that will give you a few more adjectives to add later like "acute fear" or something even more evocative.
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Nov 25, 2022 14:27
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 Contest restuls! Thank you everyone for your submissions! These were all a pleasure to read and you should feel very pleased with yourselves. Please feel free to continue to discuss and workshop in this thread. You can also let us know if you submitted to Flash Frontier so we can cheer you on! This goes for anyone, not just contest submitters. Winner My Shark Waifu! See crits below for my thoughts. You are entitled to an avatar of your choice, AND you can let me know if there's a charity to which you'd like a donation made in your honor. Runner up This was really tough because they're kind of all runners up in my book--each story has some uniquely good quality and choosing between them was hard! Finally, I settled on Chernobyl Princess as the runner up. You are entitled to the avatar of your choice, OR you can let me know if there's a charity you'd like to see a small $10 donation made to. Crits in order of submission! Untitled by Wallet Even before I read the other comments, I got the sense of being in some sort of crypt or ossuary. What I'm missing are grounding details that connect me to the experience--for a long time it's not really clear that the subject of the story is looking for a particular body. The choppiness of the sentences definitely creates a mood, and I think that mood would serve the story better if the prose gave me even a little insight into the protagonist's feelings or motivations. I'm completely here for descriptions of interlocking bones, but I think the story meditates a little long on bones and doesn't give me any human texture, even though there's a character who is presumably has a reason to find these particular remains. Also I struggled to form a mental image from some of the lines, like this one: quote:The brazier laid low to shear distended flickering clefts. I guess I can kind of imagine this. It's a brazier where the flames are low enough in the basin that they're sort of just barely visible, or maybe flickering decorative gaps in the construction of the brazier. Either way, that sentence isn't important enough to the composition to justify how long it took me to parse the image in a story this tiny! Does it hit on the theme of wonder? Possibly. The descriptions of the bones certainly have the potential to be wondrous, but without a stronger connection between the reader and the subject, I'm not feeling much one way or another. My Shark Waifu I love the small, intimate sense of wonder. That moment where you're rewarded for being exactly who you are, where you are, when you are. I think you could sort of play up the contrast of elements--namely, the theme of things changing and things staying the same. Family dynamics change, but the sea stays relatively unchanged. Strange birds come and go among the predictable movements of local birds. Stuff like that. I think if you tweaked the language to meditate more clearly on the small, subtle themes of this piece, you could make it feel even more intentional. Does it hit on the theme of wonder? I think it absolutely does! Chernobyl Princess The wonder levels in this one are off the charts because we get to see a neat rock through the eyes of a little kid! Being a kid is like tripping balls on the world without any drugs. A child's POV is primed for wondrous experiences. That said, because this is micro-fiction, I initially went into this thinking that the 'you' was pure 2nd person, rather than a parent watching their child. Sometimes the 'you' of second person exists within the story, but sometimes it's more of a displaced 'I'. Especially because the parent/narrator seems to have a lot of insight into exactly what their child is perceiving about this rock. This is a super easy fix, though! You could add a couple words of description of the child in the first sentence or two. Something like: quote:You stopped and knelt next to it, a look of open fascination on your little face Except better than what I just wrote. You don't need to do much to clear up the POV muddiness; really just a word or two that confirms 'you' is a child a little earlier on. Does it hit on the theme of wonder? As I said above, absolutely! Uranium Phoenix The good news is: this is really well-written! Reading it feels like biting into a cake that is just the right amount of dense and just the right amount of fluffy. In typical UP fashion, you've put a pound of story into an eight ounce bag. And it's not even totally pessimistic! These people seem to have found a way to thrive in spite of the post-apocalyptic hardship, since kids seem abundant enough to be described in very general terms. I think you could crank up the wonder, if you so chose. Maybe the kids latch onto some interesting aspect of the ruins that adults don't pay any mind to. Maybe the kids make up their own stories about the ruins and feel wonder at our fallen civilization for reasons that are totally their own. Kind of like how sometimes a kid will be more interested in the box a gift came in than the gift itself--I'd challenge you to toss a line or two in that gives the children a more defined or unique perspective on the fallen world into which they've been born. After all, they haven't lost anything--they never knew nintendo or netflix, so the sense of loss in this story is very much rooted in the fears of a modern 21st century person. I think if you wanted to tap into wonder a little harder, you could do as I described above and root the narrative more clearly in the unique perspectives of children who haven't known anything different. Does it hit on the theme of wonder? It does, but as I said, you could absolutely tweak a couple lines to highlight that wonder more clearly. A friendly penguin This is another one that has the wonder levels set to max. I can definitely relate to being so filled with wonder that I sort of forgot to take care of necessities like rent and bills. I'm also personally fond of characters who are able to truly see themselves as a part of the world around them, almost to the degree of complete passivity, sort of like the practice of ahimsa in buddhism/jainism/hinduism or whatever. In terms of prose, I always love reading the words you write about nature. You write about plants and animals in a very tender way. One could assume, based on the prose, that you share a sense of wonder with the character in your story! How I think you could punch up the quality of this story: Focus. You describe lots of lovely things, but I wonder if it would be more effective to choose maybe a plant, animal, and weather effect, and focus really tightly on those, rather than the whole beautiful cacophony of nature's bounty. Have your narrator fix more cleanly on a couple very particular things, rather than describing all of the birds and bugs and other critters. Maybe toss in a couple hints at the state of this person's home--if they are on the verge of eviction, what else has been left to fall apart? Does it hit on the theme of wonder? Absolutely! But the wonder could be refined down to a couple clear points of focus. Antivehicular Okay, I admit I read the short discussion on this piece in this thread, and am familiar with other feedback it's received. I don't know if I agree with the description of it as a piece of nothing, or whatever. I do think there are a couple things you could do to make it feel more storyful. 1) Change the POV. That physically hurts me to say but I think first person would actually give this piece the glossy TV camera blur of storyness. How would you write this differently if it was written as 'I' instead of 'you'? 2) Okay I'm just going to do some minor outpatient surgery on this piece and sort of illustrate what I think could add punch: quote:It's the birthday of someone you used to love. You memorized it long ago, back when every fact about himself he shared with you was a gift, and it's never left. Every year is the same: the realization, the wondering where he is now, and then the well-wishing. 3) Give the protagonist a defined reason for still thinking of this person. Are they lonely? Nostalgic? Are they in denial of lingering resentment? Do they feel better when they send out loving thoughts to this estranged companion? Are they otherwise doing okay? These are things you could hint at in a few words, especially if you revamp that big meaty second para. Does it hit on the theme of wonder? It's interesting because there's a lot of inquisitive wondering. Maybe you could punch up the wonderous wonder too--maybe the subject of this story is genuinely amazed that they still have this little ritual of silent well-wishing even after all these years. Kaom Okay sorry you activated my deep sea boner because I loving love tube worms and bone-eating snot worms (osedax is rad) and basically every form of proto-life that's been gooping around at the bottom of the ocean forever. I actually think the story might benefit from focusing on the tube worms (or whatever deep sea thing) and why Susan might feel called to "return" her remains to animals and environments that haven't really changed in millions of years. I get it--these are creatures that have survived multiple apocalyptic events, sort of living fossils. There's something circular in giving your remains to creatures like that, which seems to be at least part of why Susan wants to have her body to the deep sea. But I think I see it that way because it's how I already feel. Someone who didn't have a pre-existing interest in tube worms and what have you might not follow Susan's logic. There's an implication that Susan has wanted to get to the bottom of the sea her whole life, but it's sort of tacked on at the end. I think that piece of information should show up near the beginning. Also, the narrator is both too much and too little of a presence. There's enough texture to them that I wonder what their deal is (some kind of career criminal that Susan can trust to see her wishes through?) but not enough info to triangulate who the narrator is to Susan exactly. So I think you need to choose whether or not to even include them; you could certainly tell this story without 'I'. As far as word count, you could pretty much cut this: quote:Space would’ve been easy, if she’d meant the Big Bang. Even a volcano wouldn’t be too bad, if she’d meant Earth. But she was Susan, so naturally she meant the bottom of the ocean. and boom, that's almost half of your extra words gone. This is the kind of sentence that the writer thinks is necessary because it establishes very clearly what susan doesn't want as a way of setting up what she does want. But it's just extra words used on ideas that don't actually affect your story in any way. Does it hit on the theme of wonder? Kinda, but I think you need to center the prose a little more on Susan's feelings about the deep sea and possibly ditch the narrator, just IMO. Something Else I'm torn on this piece because I really like it, but I think it kind of misses the mark on the prompt. What does it do well? It's a tiny story that packs in a lot of imagery. You imply a lot about the Tau Ceti aliens in very few words, and there's a genuine sense that if they'd arrived a little earlier, things might have been okay. But I'm not sure what I'm meant to feel at the end of the story. I certainly don't feel a sense of wonder, though the dog-like character literally wonders aloud whether the humans and Tau Cetians might have been friends. The problem is, I think, that the humans are all dead and the aliens are kind of just going about their business, so there isn't a character who gets to feel true wonder at any of it. I was a bit confused by the POV. At first the story seems like it's in an omniscient POV, with the camera of the narrative pointing first at the last dying human and second at the arriving delegation of aliens. It's only in the 4th paragraph that the story shifts to I guess a first person POV, from the perspective of the dead human corpses. And then it goes back to an omniscient POV. That's not necessarily illegal or anything, but I was left feeling as though you could have grounded the narrative a little more in the 'we' of dead humanity. Maybe in doing that it would have been easier to transmit feelings of wonder. Does it hit on the theme of wonder? As I said, not exaaaactly. But I think if you shifted the POV to include a little more of the dead humans' perspective (this is microfiction so we can take some poetic liberties for effect), you could instill a little more feeling into the story. Alternatively, you could make the aliens a little less aloof, maybe have them feel some sort of wonder at the state of Earth. I dunno, there's a lot of ways you could do it.
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Nov 26, 2022 21:30
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Sorry for the delay! I fell asleep at my computer while writing this up last night. Also I'm not sure if FF submissions close on the 30th NZ time (which is a day ahead of US time and many other time zones), so I wouldn't delay too much if you do want to submit.
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Nov 26, 2022 21:32
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Sitting Here posted:Something Else Thank you so much for this! I reworked and submitted. You are very correct about the perspective shifts, I focused on that in the rewrite, as well as trying to bring forward a sense of wonder rather than trying to shoehorn in "I wonder what happened".
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Nov 29, 2022 19:23
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I know a bunch of people submitted, so CONGRATULATIONS to all of you for getting your words out there. Best of luck! The winner and runner up have decided to be charitable because they are amazing humans   
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Dec 2, 2022 21:26
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late but I’m subbing this cuz I just wrote it and if ff is still open I’ll enter it. it’s terrible heath heather is a girl who feels she’s a boy. I’m sorry, she’ll say, i was too busy microdosing death. talking to her thru my dysphoric mirror; both of us agreeing we are, always have been & forever will be, too scared. every time i shave my head it hurts but when i have bangs you ask if i’m a model. but if you were me and i was you i guess we would both be pretty happy.
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Jan 13, 2023 00:21
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nvm this totally works for *checks notes* RA / SUN in january. please close this thread sil vous plait renegade posting but i only wrote this today
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Jan 13, 2023 00:43
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