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Gau posted:THALAMAS YOU ARE WORTH NOT ANOTHER WORD, ELSE I'D CALL YOU KNAVE.  I accept your challenge, you fowl-mouthed penguin of a man. Let's tango. Who will step forth to judge these shenanigans? Also, I'm in this week with a  rule.
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Apr 23, 2014 01:43
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Thalamas posted:
Your story involves a house on fire.
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Apr 23, 2014 01:49
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Thalamas posted:Who will step forth to judge these shenanigans? I'll judge the bejesus out of this. Give me a couple hours to post your prompt though, I'm at work.
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Apr 23, 2014 02:02
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In. My  this week:Too many of my stories have been let loose unweaned and unedited. I must prove to WeLandedOnTheMoon by the sign-up deadline on Friday that I have completed a first draft of my story.
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Apr 23, 2014 02:18
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Party crits for Bushido and Grizzled. You both have the same problem, namely that the Protag spends most of the story sitting on his rear end doing jack. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1lyZT7eYP0P4bVpgzX7zVXROu-yQ1RwwqXcNuO8ifGiY/edit?usp=sharing
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Apr 23, 2014 02:46
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In this week.
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Apr 23, 2014 04:14
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 Gau vs Thalamas back-to-basicsbrawl Your story begins with someone leaving confinement*. It ends with someone professing their love. What happens in the 1300 words in between is up to you. Just make sure I hear about it by midnight EST, April 29. *Jail, prison, mental institution, confined-to-bed, whatever keeps your boat floatin'. God Over Djinn fucked around with this message at 05:15 on Apr 23, 2014 |
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Apr 23, 2014 05:12
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In for this week. Thanks for the crits, I'll do my best to take them into account and (hopefully) improve. 
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Apr 23, 2014 05:38
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I'm in.
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Apr 23, 2014 07:49
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Thanks for hosting, Nethilia! Thanks for reading my crap, sorry about the crap part. Thank you, sebmojo. Some Guy TT: These are my first attempts at writing anything self contained, so criticism like yours is super valuable. Next time I'll try to open with a bang! Thank you.
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Apr 23, 2014 11:12
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WeLandedOnTheMoon! posted:Party crits for Bushido and Grizzled. You both have the same problem, namely that the Protag spends most of the story sitting on his rear end doing jack. Thank you so much! ETA: still offering two crits of my own!
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Apr 23, 2014 13:55
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First round of Crits. This is a mix of “initial impressions” and “second read-through post judging.” Ten at a time. ##### Cache Cab - The Last Birthday Party Party: I’m assuming from the title--the only thing I could read--that it’s a birthday party. FIRE WATER GRASS (FWG): I can’t loving tell. Two boys are at an arcade birthday party and either took drugs or got injected or whatever, I don’t know. I can’t read past the blurry center. Not won’t, can’t. I will reiterate. I’m photosensitive and the pulsing image made me sick to the point I could not look at any screens for about twenty minutes before reading on. If your writing can’t hang on its own words, “creative” formatting doesn’t save it. And if you wanted me to read this, you would have left TEXT like WLOTM did. Take everything I said here and in my judging and go sit in the corner. 0/10. ##### GlassLotus - Where the Pine Trees Grow Party: Coronation FWG: Fiery dress, lake, leaves and plants. Girl fights with family. She runs off to a place she knows and stumbles into a fairy coronation for a queen who lost her sister. However, through the magic of memory loss she won’t remember any of it, and thus will go back to fighting again. It took a long time to get to anything happening. There's only so many words to go with this style of writing, and the more spent on backstory and descriptions and "they go camping here every year" he less spent on story. Lots of tell don’t show. What irritated me most about this story is the part where Zoe won't remember any of this and so will revert to bickering. It's weak, and means there's no change in Zoe at all. Not every story has a change come through for the protagonist, but the Queen literally talks to her about how bickering with her sister led to her loss and then doesn't let her remember, so what was the point? It makes for a weak ending with an unchanged protagonist. If Zoe wasn't going to remember, at least let her remember the feeling, or have something more vague about her forgetting instead of a flat out telling. I did like quite a bit of the description--a lot of it was great--but in this kind of story, you want to cut the description for plot and character. This is one of my middles. 5/10. ##### Turtlicious - The Spider, the Tiger, and The Lions Party: Wedding celebration - wait no, it’s D&D! FWG: Fire whip and fire mages, allusion to water spots in the desert (had to hunt for it,) ???/the mead? Was there Grass? You start with a lot of descriptions of a wedding and a bunch of names that likely should mean something but don't. That part where Theif goes "boring"? Yeah, I agreed. Then you went to suddenly going “ice,” in the middle of the whole thing, which jarred the entire poo poo out of me. Don't throw your reader out of the story. Tons of Creative Talking--or what many people call saidisms--and Creative Acting, with a bunch of characters just being tossed out at me rapid fire. Then the gotcha ending told me that that this was a D&D thing--“gotcha! This is the real party!” The story in the story didn’t carry itself well, and the framing device made me groan out loud. The only thing worse to me personally than watching people play D&D is reading about or listening to people playing D&D. You have to really make it work, and you didn't. This didn't read like a story, this read like a recap of a gaming session. 4/10. ##### Drunk Nerds - Chameleon Man Loser Party: lol those Hollywood types always hanging out FWG: Drinking water moved around, setting Director on fire, landing in the dirt? Valet person not invited to party has a screenplay they want Director to read because OMG it's the Best! S/he ties their apron on like a cape, goes "what would Character Do" and sneaks his/her way in using a lot of convoluted crap based on Chameleon Man, the star of his/her screenplay. Finally s/he shows director his screen play after many animated wacky actions. It's befouled and told it’s poo poo. Screw you director! Time to throw the car over a cliff. I’m annoyed by the story in ways you can’t fathom. Wacky Writer Protagonist does all this Wacky Crap like a comic book cliche and then after getting a no for stalking the Director and playing a weak practical joke, s/he throws the car off for an ending that basically leads to a stupid revenge car destruction. A lot of buildup coming to a pissy ending. I will waste no more time on this muck. 2/10. ##### Chairchucker - Zoning Issues Party: Yep, that's a Party. FWG: Pool, Fireworks/wood-fired pizza, lawn Girl holds a party with the bouncer being her Literal Robot Servant. She prevents one guy coming in because she had a thing with him and this led to her and her friend having a falling out. After said boy is gone, Girl laments that her friend and her are not friends, and Literal Butler takes that as an opportunity to pull a Robo ex Machina and bring her to the party, leading to an awkward reconciliation. The fancy talk from Gabby threw me into eyerolls until I realized Gabby was being a pretentious bitch, then I was down for it. I was jarred by the bolding for the robot. Different formatting would have been better. The whole issue between friends was way too easily resolved with a few lines, and way too much time was spent on Casper being driven off and not enough on Katie and Gabby reconciling. But other than the pacing being off for me, this was a good story. I just think it could have used more of one thing and less of the other. 6/10 ##### Thalamas - Only One Brother Party: Funeral FWG: Rain, Firey Gas Lights, wet dirt. Dead Man’s Brother and brother’s widow think about how brother was an alcoholic woman-beater and they’ve been affair-having behind his back, and then one of the brothers dies and the “dead one” comes back to life and there sure are a lot of brothers. I like back and forth time-views, so checkmark in your corner. But part of the fun of my reading back and forth views is that I'm able to tell people apart. When it's all jumbled it's not a back-and-forth, it's a goopy mess. This was super hampered by a lot of “euphemism names” that made it hard for me to figure our which brother was which. You needed to distinguish who was who; "The younger brother" wasn't articulated before that statement was ever used. It took me four reads to realize that one brother was the poisoned one, the Widow was having an affair with someone else, and someone else pushed his brother in the gave and Killed Him For Drama before the Poisoned One came back to life--they didn't really check him to make sure he was dead, did they? There was a lot of filler that could have been cut down. 5/10. ##### Gau - December 21, 1983 Party: CRAZY SHENANIGANS FWG: Lawn/flipped plant/flower beds, Cigarette fire and bonfire, some guy has a water hose in his pants. Hank had a party that got, as we say in the hood, to’ up from the flo’ up. He surveys the damage in repulsive, graphic detail. He plans to set his house on fire, but pussies out and one of the party goers’s cigs does it for him. Death for all. Let me introduce you to a video called "Beginning, Middle, End" that aired on Sesame Street. The relevant thirty seconds? "Every story has a beginning, middle and an end. And when it's over we can go back and tell it all again." There was nothing in this story. Nothing happened. There are a lot of descriptions of body fluids and people still there and a bunch of broken poo poo and some fat guy and his penis and really disgusting details smeared everywhere including someone loving a water hose. Repulsed is a feeling I guess. Hank has no agency whatsoever. We could have replaced him with a paper mannequin; about the only thing he decides to do he pussies out on. Be glad there were stories worse than yours. 3.5/10 ##### Whalley - Dr Party, PhD. Party: Science experiment party FWG: Cigs, booze, and fake flowers? Maybe. Scientist wants to prove time travel through partying. He invites a group of fellow scientists to come help him run the experiment. It's a success! He makes it big. Interesting premise, but odd execution. The descriptions of the professors was lavish--and then became nothing as they were changed out of their clothes and mushed into the party never to be seen again, and we only saw Scruffy briefly. You know what would have helped for the professors? NAMES. I like names to tell people apart. Even bad nicknames would have helped me tell people apart. My eyes glaze over "The scruffy professor" in a way that "Scruffy" wouldn't have had happen. Question: Why was the door locked? It didn't add anything. The ending paragraphs were nice to show the results of the experiment, but they were like a weak epilogue after the good drive of the story. Especially that last line. Don't end things like that. 6/10. ##### Erogenous Beef - Keeping Score HM Party: New Years Eve party turns into Nuclear annihilation. FWG: Fireworks (and how!), charred/wrecked lawn, canned water. Pranks back and forth between a Russian ambassador and an American result in all out nuclear war. Yuri and John make it through by actually believing each other and going to the bomb shelter in time. A few pranks continue post bombing, but one makes John think Yuri is gone until he gets out to survey the damage. That sobers both of them into ending the prank war and not keeping score any more. The opening line was like biting into a fresh apple, and the story just kept getting better from that first dive in. Dialogue was the strong part of this story; I love good dialogue. The descriptions sank me well into the story, especially the description of how the bombs rattled the. I like that John kept the pranks up all the way until he thought Yuri was gone, and that action making John actually worry was beautiful. The detail about the silhouettes on the wall and John realizing his buddies argued in their last minutes? That is how you convey a lot of detail in a few words. There’s a few weak spots, but I liked this one a lot. I had it slotted to win, but curlingiron just edged you out in the end. 8/10. ##### tenniseveryone - Seven Minutes in Heaven Party: Teen/College party. FWG: Alien fire, Classic Elemental List. Two teens at the standard Teenage Party are expected to make out in closet. She's too Cool, he's too Nerdy, so she shuts him down. He claims to be an alien, but twist! He's not a liar. Her kiss will save his home. He gets to kiss her, and then the story ends pretty quick after that. I didn't hate this one. I did hate the rush into the closet--there could have been more to that than three opening lines--and the ending paragraph was a letdown. A lot of time was wasted having them tell us all about themselves and describe each others' looks. Interesting twist that Reggie was Alien, and her Air would save his people. I did like her natural disgust at thinking he was using this to be creeping, and like her thought it was someone being Creeper Stop Creeping, so the "oh poo poo he's not lying" turn was nice.While I generally like back and forth views, I think the story could have worked better from one view then swapped to another at the end e.g. sticking to Chelsea’s thoughts for the whole time in the closet, then Reggie’s at the end. Also, the issue with the ending really makes it like Reggie was lying to get a kiss. There should have been more clarification. 7/10. Nethilia fucked around with this message at 00:55 on Apr 24, 2014 |
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Apr 23, 2014 14:49
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Count me in.
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Apr 23, 2014 15:39
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Thanks for all the crits, I appreciate the time you all took to do them. I've got time to do some crits if anyone would like one.
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Apr 23, 2014 22:25
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 I have restored honor to my name. Now I can be mediocre again. In.
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Apr 23, 2014 22:33
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Starter Wiggin posted:I've got time to do some crits if anyone would like one. I'll take one.
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Apr 23, 2014 23:47
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I'm in and would like a flash rule, please.
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Apr 24, 2014 00:03
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In.
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Apr 24, 2014 00:18
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Thanks to everyone that offered a crit on my first-ever submission, it was all really helpful and I'm already planning a rewrite! In the interest of paying it forward, I am also offering two crits to the first couple of people that express interest.
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Apr 24, 2014 00:44
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The News at 5 posted:I'll take one. https://docs.google.com/document/d/15i3lEh5NPrxzlrnUvsGb3XY6B6ovec3awEeRGMRecnE/edit?usp=sharing Still got some crits in me.
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Apr 24, 2014 01:16
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In.
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Apr 24, 2014 01:25
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In!
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Apr 24, 2014 05:09
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lambeth posted:I'm in and would like a flash rule, please. Flash rule: Part of your story takes place in an aquarium.
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Apr 24, 2014 06:40
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I'm Out All I want to do is write about zombies right now, and it's pathetically trite.
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Apr 24, 2014 08:34
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Thanks for crits, but I don't understand what "dreadful dm" means.
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Apr 24, 2014 10:23
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nickmeister posted:Thanks for crits, but I don't understand what "dreadful dm" means.
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Apr 24, 2014 10:28
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nickmeister posted:Thanks for crits, but I don't understand what "dreadful dm" means. Looking at it again i could have been more nuanced exempli gratia your use of endless repetition and and bad words that take way too long to explain what's happening and terrible approach to commas and your failure to give any comprehensible context for your goony loser protag's apparent psychic trauma (he saw a ghost and so everyone hates him but manic pixie dream girl and he wants a refund cool story bro) aside there are some nice word nuggets (viz the wooden heart bursting into bud) bobbing in amongst the felchwater; so i will allow that it is only mostly dreadful.
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Apr 24, 2014 10:54
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I will help judge this, and am an actual scientist IRL, so don't try to bullshit your story up with sorry-rear end pseudo-scientific reasons for the spread of this contagion. you should be thanking me, because this gives you motivation to focus on your CHARACTERS instead of stupid sci-fi bullshit. ANYBODY WHO INCLUDES METHODS OF TRANSMISSION OR ANY BIOLOGICAL/NEUROLOGICAL INFODUMPS WILL BE JUDGED ON EXTREME SCIENTIFIC ACCURACY, AND I WILL DOCK YOU HELLA POINTS FOR GETTING SOMETHING WRONG.
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Apr 24, 2014 16:57
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I'm in.
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Apr 24, 2014 22:25
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 also if curlingiron wants to get in on this, she's allowed. Nobody else tho'
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Apr 25, 2014 00:26
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God Over Djinn posted:
okay you turds, i'll judge this one. It's all like, spring time here so the theme is sort of like this  It's all warmin' up outside and the beasts n poo poo all are wakin' up, got me thinkin' about cyclical occurences n poo poo. I want 2000 words by next Friday (may 2nd) about The Beasts Within and redemption. How you choose to accomplish that is up to your weak babby brains
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Apr 25, 2014 00:33
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Apr 25, 2014 00:33
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Returning Produce 1163 words I admit that I should not have left the cantaloupe sealed in its plastic bag next to the radiator for most of the week, and eating half of it was categorically stupid. Yet I nearly got away with it clean, or as clean as bad gas and bloating can be for a man with a full refund in his pocket and a great story for his next party. The store had offered a money back guarantee, and that cashier Julia had a very pretty smile. Her parents must have found a great orthodontist in her early pubescent period. The plaster peeled on that smile when I handed her the soggy bag, and she turned her nose at one whiff, but she did honor the guarantee and handed me my two bucks back. As she set it on the counter next to the register for just a moment, I spotted the ooze seeping out of the downhill corner. She planted her hand in it only to jerk it back, sniff it, and wipe it clean on her smock. The smell wasn’t the only thing turning my insides at that moment, yet for a tread upon minimum wage drone, she remained quite friendly as I walked over toward the restroom. As I entered, I burped. I could taste the cantaloupe again, tinged with bile, and I had to squat over the toilet and fart a half dozen times before I felt settled enough to walk back out the stall. Julia had closed her register and walked away with the bag held so far to the side that it threw off her balance as she bent sideways at the hip against the rancid leverage. Her rear end bobbed, and she kept brushing her hair back with her right hand to keep it from accidentally contaminating itself against the bag as it fought to remain level. I always had great appreciation for the struggle. She narrowly averted disaster when she passed that little black metal stand for those clear produce bags. If I had used one last week, she might have had an extra layer of protection from her cargo. I like to be green, so I only use what plastic is strictly necessary. The edge of the steel caught the edge of the bag and nearly wrenched her around into a throne of apples. That would have been a shame. Yet she freed it without too much structural damage and made it the rest of the way to the open produce work area without further incident. My stomach was already bubbling again, and I knew that avoiding the dreaded vomit was going to be a close thing. I probably should have gone home. Yet, as a man who had unleashed a dirty bomb on those who had the audacity to do their jobs, I had to remain at the scene long enough to watch. I was ready to give Julia my little smile and wink the moment she turned around, but she did not even look my way in her beeline for the sink. I did note that she washed her hands the recommended thirty seconds—maybe even a bit longer to finish scrubbing away. She did not even glance toward me as she brushed past me in her march back to her duty station. A pity. At least the view was as good the other direction. Peeking around the corner, I saw the bearded dude just standing in place, holding the bag so that it dripped just beyond his toe. He lifted it with one finger; I guess he did it to examine it. By the time it got up to face level, the shifting weight tore open the gash in the side and dumped slime all over his redneck beard and work-issue polo. I ducked back around the corner to stifle my laugh. The drifting profanity just made it better. Someone else was in there too; I could hear the giggle. I stood off to the side, pretending to browse those little bags of spices: cumin, sage, even a twenty buck thread of saffron. Oh, I had never tasted it, but would I tell my friends that saffron was beyond the budget of a man who would return a two buck cantaloupe? No, I could watch Food Network and browse Wikipedia with the best of them. They probably had never tasted the sublime gastronomy of sucre saffron. My own stomach kept sending rather more rotten signals out both ends. The low-rent hipster soon rattled a little cart with one of those foldable black things in which they send produce. I could see the stretched handle of my old plastic bag sticking from the top of it. I guess as the already infected, he had corpse removal duty. I followed him at a discreet distance past the racks of plastic cased lunch meats and the big display of 40 oz tubs of cheese balls. Those always hit the spot. A little girl down the mountain dew aisle pointed at the peon and whispered something to her mother, who never even bothered to glance our way. Once the dude passed through the back room doors, I hesitated for only a moment before heading there myself. If anyone asked, I could claim to be the Pepsi vendor. The customer is always right anyway, that’s why I got my two bucks back. The loading dock was mostly deserted, but I worked my way over to the little window in the loading dock door and watched my friend work his way over to the big dumpster. He was clearly angry as he flung the bag overhand against the back of the open dumpster, but the idiot had forgotten all the liquid. He indeed “made it rain” as they say, and the container tipped up and splashed him down the right side at the same time. He just stood there arms apart, shaking his hands dry and dripping. I bet he cried. Anyway, I could have left then too, but the hammer of Thor smashed that little gas chamber I called my stomach at that moment and send me scurrying for the bathroom to release the pressure. The place was empty, and I rapidly locked the stall and let loose. Maybe they could call me the thunder god if they make legends of my day. A few minutes later, I felt sufficiently degassed to make the drive home. I was sure I was going to avoid the dreaded loss in the nausea battle. Yet, the moment I emerged, I saw my friend again. He had stripped his shirt which was soaking in one of the sinks. He was giving himself a sponge bath with paper towels, blotting away at the grainy slime. In the mirror, I could see the flecks of slime in his hair, in his beard, the same slime that roiled in my stomach. At least I can say that he got the worst of it again at the end.
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Apr 25, 2014 00:48
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I'm in.
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Apr 25, 2014 02:16
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i'm in too, dangit
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Apr 25, 2014 02:48
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In
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Apr 25, 2014 02:58
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I'm in.
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Apr 25, 2014 03:01
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Apr 25, 2014 04:17
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I don't have crabrock's credentials in looking at science things and thinking "this is not a proper science thing", but I'm judging this week. If I have to read another "is this a true story tia, congrats on being the goon who genuinely believed the universe stood up and gave you an applause for acting like a smug idiotic rear end in a top hat for zero reasons" entry, then I'll consider the spread of the "lovely writing" virus effective, and spare zero mercies.
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Apr 25, 2014 04:51
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Apr 25, 2014 04:52
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