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  • Locked thread
Steriletom
May 11, 2009

My inability to write has angered the ghost of Thunderdome! Beware my example, lest you be haunted.


I've switched out the dropbox link for a google drive shortcut.

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Helsing
Aug 23, 2003

I'M ESCAPING TO THE ONE PLACE THAT HASN'T BEEN CORRUPTED BY CAPITALISM...

SPACE!


So when do we find out about the second part of the conflict, and should we be ready to set aside further time in the next day or two for some additional writing, editing or other activity?

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007


Blood Empress of Thunderdome

Tap to emit spores


Clapping Larry

PART 2

This is not a judgement post.

While me and my bedraggled and still somewhat stalwart judges deliberate, I have another assignment for you.

Guys, the truth is, I shamelessly stole this prompt from elsewhere. I stole the prompt, and then I forced all you guys to put your stories behind links.

Because, you see, you're going to go to

http://www.kazkapress.net/713flashfiction/

and submit your story.

Please read all submissions guidelines and format your email/story appropriately.

quote:

Send your submission in an email to kazkasubs[at]gmail.com. Attach your file to the email. Donít forget to include your cover letter in the body of the email. It is very important that we know for which issue a story is being submitted. PLEASE make sure to note that in your Subject Line. A good sample subject line would be ďKazka Press Submission for the Out of Time issue.Ē

Here are the rules and details.

Word Count:

Weíre looking for a piece of flash fiction that is between 500 and 1000 words long. Thus:

499 < YOUR STORY < 1,001

We wonít publish stories north or south of this mark.

Deadline:

Stories may be submitted up through the 20th of the month prior to the month of publication. We keep submissions open until midnight, as the 20th rolls into the 21st in California.

Manuscript & Cover Letter:

Please get close to standard manuscript formatting. However, weíll be formatting your story for the web, so donít worry over this too much. Just make sure we can read your story. ONE IMPORTANT NOTE: donít underline the italics. Just leave them as italics.

We accept .pages, .doc, .docx, .pdf, .txt, and .rtf files. That said, if you submit a .pdf or a .pages file and your story is accepted, we will ask for a file in one of the other four formats for line editing.

What do we want in the cover letter?

Your name, story title, address, email, and a brief bio (100 words or so, third person).

Payment, Publication, & Rights Sought:

If youíre selected as a winner of our monthly contest, weíll purchase First Worldwide Electronic Rights from you for $15, regardless of word count. These electronic rights give us the right to:

publish your story on our website exclusively for six months and non-exclusively for as long as weíre an entity.
include your story in the Kazka Press monthly .pdf and .epub issue, available from our website for download.
Our contract asks for 6 months exclusivity on electronically published stories, so you cannot ePublish your story anywhere else, including your blog, during that time. However, since weíre not buying print rights, you can feel free to sell FNASR (First North American Serial Rights), for example. And, of course, you can sell audio rights as long as theyíre non-exclusive (as most are).

Payment will be made via Paypal or check, and writers will be paid within two weeks of publication/signing a contract, whichever is the latest event of the two.

Original vs. Reprint:

For our flash fiction contests, we only accept unpublished work.

Simultaneous & multiple submissions:

We donít accept simultaneous or multiple submissions.

Questions?

Please email our editor: kazkasubs[at]gmail.com.

Ready to Submit?

Send your submission in an email to kazkasubs[at]gmail.com. Attach your file to the email. Donít forget to include your cover letter in the body of the email.



We've goonrushed magazines before and had a lot of acceptances. You might surprise yourself, but the very worst thing that could happen is that you'll get a form rejection, I promise.

Post in this thread once you've submitted.

Do not loving disappoint me.

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007


Blood Empress of Thunderdome

Tap to emit spores


Clapping Larry

Just as a side note, feel free to edit ANOTHER COPY OF YOUR STORY THAT IS NOT THE ONE YOU POSTED FOR ME TO READ and submit that one. Just submit something, and tell us about it.

Judgement coming, realistically, late tonight or early tomorrow. So it's a good thing you guys have something to stay busy with now!

Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.


Those of you interested in actually having your submissions read and not just crumpled up and tossed in a trash bin should take a moment to familiarize yourself with proper manuscript format.

Walamor
Dec 31, 2006

Fork 'em Devils!



I didn't submit this week, but this is a really cool thing you did. Looking forward to seeing who got accepted!

owl milk
Jun 28, 2011


We can submit after we get our critiques, right? I'd rather see which parts are poo poo and need to be changed before sending it to a publisher.

Zesty Mordant
Jun 7, 2007

hella greenbacks

To hell with waiting. Submitted!

Accretionist
Nov 7, 2012



Haam posted:

We can submit after we get our critiques, right? I'd rather see which parts are poo poo and need to be changed before sending it to a publisher.
Absolutely, you've got until November 20th to submit.

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010



Legit Cyberpunk

Accretionist posted:

Absolutely, you've got until November 20th to submit.

What was that, judge? Oh, wait that's right you're not a judge. So perhaps you should stop talking?

Submit your story now, and post a screencap of the acceptance.

If it's not good enough then write a better one and submit it next month.

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007


Blood Empress of Thunderdome

Tap to emit spores


Clapping Larry

While I am chugging along on comments on pieces that have them allowed (which not all of them do), I recommend submitting now.

Why? Because for lots of us, a big barrier to venturing past writing for our own amusement or posting on, say, certain forums, is the submission process. Honestly, I'm not going to be able to personally edit everyone's work to their satisfaction, and plus this is Thunderdome, and Thunderdome is hardcore, and I see a lot of scared people cowering in terror of the prospect of mean words and rejection, when those are exactly what you need, and will continue to need for your whole writing career*.

Just get over it and submit. If you don't like what you submitted, relish that feeling and use it to tackle another story. Rinse and repeat. In addition to getting less poo poo at writing, you will soon notice that you have a backlog of stories that, even if they weren't successful on a first try, you can always go edit and send somewhere else.

So go forth and goonrush. loving do it right now go.


*I assume, but I don't have a writing career because I never loving SUBMIT anything. A cautionary tale if I ever heard one.

EDIT if anyone failed to submit this week and wants to redeem themselves, they may do that by posting a screenshot of sending the submission, and I will beseech the archivists to strike your names from the failure list.

Sitting Here fucked around with this message at Oct 28, 2013 around 21:53

Symptomless Coma
Mar 30, 2007
for shock value

Sitting Here posted:

So go forth and goonrush. loving do it right now go.



Brilliant idea. God bless you.

Noumena
Mar 18, 2008





Here's the acceptance for my submission. This is such a great idea. Thanks for the push.

autism ZX spectrum
Feb 7, 2007



Fun Shoe

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010



Legit Cyberpunk

Some crits from last week:

Kaishai posted:

Come Home to Stay a While
(667 words)

"Come home this weekend," Rachel's mother had said on the phone. "We have to talk." Is this the best way to start this story?

The dining table had picked up a thin layer of dust. The tenses are confusing here, since 'had said' is a thing that happened in the past but 'had picked up' is a thing that's being described from the present. I understand what you mean of couse, but rephrase as you don't want to be confusing in the second line. The late afternoon light turned the kitchen sallow nice word, though I don't love 'had turned' for the same reason as above. Rachel couldn't look at her mother's face, only the familiar, callused hands, clasped tight around a coffee mug. The rough places on her own fingers had faded, save one: a shiny mark on her right index from the chafing of a pen. Great description.

Her mother said, "A man breaks his back falling off a tractor, he's not fit for factory work. Your father's going on pension. We won't have enough to help you with college anymore."

And there it was, as flat and dull and inevitable as a farmer's life, despite all her work and all she'd saved; and in the face of her family's collapse Rachel couldn't stop herself from asking, "What am I supposed to do?"

"They'd give you your job back at the plant," her mother said.

"I only need one more year."

"Make the money, then go. School will still be there."

Shingles lay in the tall grass outside, cows lowed for feed, fields waited for spring and the corn, and Rachel knew better. She would not leave these things twice. There's a weird perspective shift here that's jarring - you're more successful when you root us in your protag's description of what she's seeing and experiencing.

Her mother let go of the coffee to grip Rachel's hands. "It's your choice to make."

Rachel couldn't forgive her for the words.

Repairs to the house and the tractor ate her earnings first; then it was a drought season, a new well, a bull to replace the one that died. She sprayed insulation into refrigerators and studied her calculus text as the farm work allowed. For a while. The book 'disappeared' in time--a polite way to describe a bonfire lit after too much wine, but her parents had brought her up to be genteel. Her father's pension paid the mortgage. Her mother's job paid for his burial, three years after his accident.

She met Alan at the bar and quit drinking altogether after they married, and his work managing the town department store turned 'enough' to 'comfortable' for all of them, with something left over every month for a college fund. Within six years, Rachel had two sons, a daughter, a grave for her mother, and a less-than-amicable divorce. tidy.

At least the child-support payments helped. Rachel stayed at the factory for the benefits of seniority. Her land suffered somewhat from neglect until the children were old enough for chores. She loved them fiercely, all three, but especially Kris, intelligent and ambitious; a light shone in his eyes that she could almost remember.

She took a weekend job at Alan's store. She bought nothing for herself after the kids started school. Sometimes her neighbors let her hunt in their woods or fish in their creeks to save money--they made outings of it, she and Kris and Gavin and Cecilia. The games and laughter made her feel rich.

Until the factory shut down.

Rachel sought employment at a warehouse an hour away, as a driver. Kris worked as many jobs as he could every summer and after school.

The bank threatened to foreclose on the farm.

With almost everything she'd saved, Rachel ended the mortgage for good, and Kris scraped together enough grants and scholarships to start his major in Computer Science that fall.

Then Gavin wrecked Rachel's truck and one of his legs. She had to hire help with the planting.

Then Cecilia wanted--needed--a wedding at seventeen.

Then tuition rose.

Rachel sat at the old dining table with a cup of coffee in her left hand, her right held in front of her for examination. So many lines now. So many marks: old cuts and calluses, and no sign that she'd ever held a pen. Only scars left by the choices she'd made. oonf that sledgehammer just hit me right in the face and it hurts man it hurts

I understand, Mama. And so did you. I hope he never does. I don't like this line.

She reached for the phone, her fingers unsteady as she punched in Kris's number. Yeah, solid enough landing.

This fails on being sad - it's more of a rich tapestry sort of thing. And though you have a few good phrases there's an annoying lack of focus in the narrative voice, vague tenses, perspective going wide then narrow then wide, a lack of actual stakes (I mean yeah going to college would be great but it's not enough of a loss to really sell it as tragedy). Sloppy, 'Shai, I expect better from you.


Helsing posted:

Re: Next Time Finish the Job

Just a suggestion - titles are important and you missed a trick by just echoing it in the first line. Using the email tag might give it more curl. Another option would be (say) calling it 'Vertical' then leaving the 'cut vertical' line to right at the end - so the title punch arrives with the end of the story.

639 Words

To xxxxxxxxxx@xxxxxxx.com
From xxxxxxxxxxxxx@xxxxxx.com I think you're missing a trick in characterisation by using the xxxxx's
Re: Next Time Finish the Job

You arenít going to win this. I'm not convinced by this first line; it sets up a 'you' and a 'this' that aren't really specific enough to be interesting, especially without any names.

After the lunch bell everyone vague was talking about you and how hard your life must be. They wanted to send you flowers and write on your Wall and tell you everything was going to be OK. They almost fell for it, congratulations. 'almost' doesn't work here.

Iím telling the real story. Now everyone knows what you did. she's gonna tell? or has told? tenses don't work here. Nobody is going to come visit you. No one cares about your stupid cry-for-help look-at-me behaviour. The only way you could make us care is if you did the job properly. Cut VERTICAL next time.I think this would work better at the end

Last year I thought that you were my best friend. I would have done anything for you. People used to talk about how gross you were with your weird hand-me-down dresses and that ugly mop of oily black hair. I would defend you. I always made sure you got invited to Sandyís cabin even though she didnít really want you there. I gave you my old dresses so people wouldnít know your dad canít keep a job for more than two weeks. See this is the good stuff - lots of nice, pungent specificity. Be specific like this from the start, not 4 paras in

I canít believe how stupid I was being. I let you get close to me and you tried to destroy me. vague But even worse, you attacked the person I love. I will never forgive you for that.

Even your cousin says youíre just a slut looking for attention. Your family wishes you would go away forever and stop making their lives hard with your selfish behaviour weak. You think you have this whole town wrapped around your finger but youíre wrong. Tessa and I are going to make sure everyone knows about you. You will pay for what you have done to me. Youíll pay for the rest of your life.

No one is going to believe your disgusting lies about Chris. If you try it youíll be in real trouble. They all know you and your deadbeat dad and how your mother got so sick of your bullshit that she abandoned you. Just because your life is hosed up doesnít give you a license to hurt people who are better than you. We wonít let you destroy someone from a good home just because yours was rotten.

Oh, and by the way, lying to the police is a crime. If you try to make them hurt Chris then everyone in town will unite against you. Donít forget that my uncle is on the force.

I still canít believe you would come to me with that disgusting story. Did you really think you could get between me and Chris? Youíre so deluded that itís almost funny.

He never even liked you. He always told me I shouldnít trust you. And Iíve seen the way you look at him when you think I wonít notice. Why would he want anything to do with a dirty little skank like you in the first place? Even if he was going to betray me, which he never would, why would he waste his time on an ugly freak like you?

I cried for days when I found out the awful things you were saying. For a second you made me doubt the person who loves me the most. I hate you more for that than anything else. Youíve never had someone love you so you lash out at the people who are luckier than you could ever hope to be. If you were a dog they would put you down for behaving that way. nice para

Stop calling me. Stop sending me messages. As soon as you tried to get in-between me and Chris you were dead to me. A couple shallow scratches on your wrist wonít change my mind. If you really want my forgiveness then instead of screwing around next time finish the job.

Your ďBest FriendĒ
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Yeah, don't like the XXX - what is it giving you that names don't?

I thought this was decent, and an interesting form to choose, but you missed a few tricks in not being specific often enough. Always, always be specific - especially at the beginning of the story.


Fraction posted:

Faded - 893 words

It wasnít my fault. I clung desperately to that: it wasnít my fault. I was in the wrong place, at the wrong time. There was nobody nearby who would help me. If anyone heard my screams, my pleas, my cries in the dark, they didnít care enough to stop it. I couldnít stop itleave, I couldn't stop him. He didnít go until he was finished. He left me bruised and crying. You make your point quickly here - step back, it's the start of the story and words are precious.

I told my friends, and they tried weak to understand. But there was a space between us now, a bridge they couldnít cross. They forgot to invite me to nights out. They forgot to invite me to days spent lounging in their houses, with their legs strewn over tables and their laughter hanging in the air. This is a great image. Give it some space If Iíd asked them, I think they would have been hard-pressed to explain exactly why. Maybe they would have shrugged, and eventually said, ďWell, sheís just not fun anymore.Ē

I made them feel uncomfortable. So they just forgot to invite me to join them. I donít know if it was a conscious decision or not. I donít know if they talked about it. It wasnít long before they forgot to even pretend to be my friends. They would talk of their plans openly. Invites would fly through the air. Sometimes, someone would see me, and they would give me a tight smile and ask, ďHey, are you free?Ē

But I felt the tension in their words. I felt the eyes that flicked nervously over to me. The room would go quiet. They held their breaths to wait to see what I said. I didnít ever have a choice. I would just shake my head and shrugged. ďMaybe next time.Ē Tenses are weird in this one

I couldnít talk to any of them. I couldnít talk to my parents. I didnít know what to do, but doing nothing wouldnít help. I made an appointment. I ended a possibility before it could truly begin. This is kinda euphemistic and feels maybe out of place? Is there a more grounded way you could say it? There were people outside that shouted at me. Someone told me, frank as can be, that I was going to hell. I didnít know what to say don't have people being unsure what to say if they then know what to say óIím already there?ó so I pushed past him and tried not to didn't cry.

That came later . It came when I was in my room, alone. I ran my hands over my belly and it felt empty. It shouldnít have. I wasnít far enough along for anything major to have happened; the doctor had assured me of that. But that didnít matter. It felt like Iíd carved a part of myself out. I cried myself to sleep. When I woke, my eyes ached. They were wide and red, and I had to hide my face behind thick make-up so that Mum didnít ask me what was wrong. Sunglasses surely? Red eyes can't get makeupped away?

The light flickered; the light faded. The girl I was disappeared. She disappeared when my friends turned their backs on me, when the doctor scraped something out of me. She disappeared under the tears and the pain.
Yuck. This is telling rather than showing.

My exam results were pathetic. I didnít care. My parents argued about what was causing my behaviour. They blamed each other and they fought, and I didnít care about that either. I found a man who promised me the sun. I moved in with him, but he didnít deliver. He smoked too much, drank too much. I told him that, one night. He was steaming SCOT SPOTTED, and he hit me. I didnít know what to do. I shut my mouth and let him fawn over me. He apologised a dozen times, but it didnít matter. Iíd seen something in his eyes I hadnít expected to ever see. It was that same darkness Iíd seen that night, in that manís eyes. I think you should step back to a flatter recitation of events here. You've set up the space of the character, now just let the story do the work.

He hit me four more times before my parents found out. They dragged me back home. My boyfriend ended up in hospital. My dad got arrested.

Mum asked me, ďWhy did you let him do it?Ē

ďI couldnít leave.Ē She didnít understand. I tried again. ďI couldnít stop him.Ē linebreaks removed

I didnít know if I was talking about my boyfriend, or about that night, with that man. I felt the pavement under my cheek and the bile in my mouth and the tears in my eyes. I went to my room, my old room, and I cried. This is the sort of thing you shouldn't have to spell out if the story is doing its job.

It wasnít until the anniversary of that night when I told my parents. I didnít intend to. The words slipped out. I heard Mumís whispers, heard Dadís rising voice. None of it sank in. I listened, but I didnít truly hear. I waited for as long as I could and then I left.

On the anniversary of another day, a day that ended something that had only just begun, I cooked a meal give me specifics. It was the first Iíd cooked in a long time. I used to love it, but it just hadnít seemed important. I cooked a meal and set places for two. My parents were out; I wouldnít be disturbed.

I ate slowly. I ate one meal, and I didnít touch the other. My cheeks were wet the entire time. Tears dripped onto my hands. I stood up. I looked at the uneaten meal, I set my hand on my belly, and I murmured, ďIím sorry.Ē

I went to my room and took the bottle of pills out of its hiding place. I washed them down with my parentsí vodka, and I let the tears fall thick and fast. Yeah, fumblemouse was right about that ending. You need a turn, or a bow, or a punch and I think it would be easy enough to find one. 'I was sad then I got sadder' isn't it.

This is heartfelt but messy - take a step back and cut everything that isn't what your story needs. And be more specific, you have no names or descririptions for anyone. What is the world that the protagonist lives in?

Ronnie_Long
Jun 7, 2003

cock of the walk

It is done. (And I am too lazy to do a screen grab.)

Kazka Press
To Me
Today at 10:57 PM
We have received your submission and will reply to it in the near future. Thank you!

-Michael Haynes
Editor, Kazka Press

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007


Blood Empress of Thunderdome

Tap to emit spores


Clapping Larry

This is a judgement post

This was a tough week to judge. A lot of new entrants, a lot of good, a lot of bad, a lot of solidly in between.

Well done everyone who has submitted, and continues to submit, to the flash fiction contest.

Anyway.

Your (close) runners up were: Erogenous Beef, J Hume, and The Swinemaster. Noumena also deserves mention for making a pretty big turn around in story quality.

There was a lot of back and forth about judgement (which is a good thing), but ultimately by my executive judgely decree, Echo Cian is your winner this week.

Echo's story was at the very edge the genre requirement, but I thought in particular it seemed to have the strongest idea of where it was going, and was one of few stories where I thought that multiple characters were given understandable motivations.



Your LOSER this week is, I'm afraid to say, Tyrannosaurus. There was just tooooooo much going on there, buddy. It read like a summary. A lot of big, cool stuff happens, but the action itself was often unclear and there was too much of it with too little context and too little real characterization.

Dishonorable mentions: dmboogie, haam, and maybe like Jopoho. We were widely torn over the loser, which is both a good and a bad thing depending on how you look at it.


Things I noticed this week:

Stories that just kind of ended
Clumsy exposition through dialog
Pretty much everyone featured the outlaws and their protagonists and/or POV characters
"Once upon a time there was a guy who was an rear end in a top hat. Then he died. The End."
Cowboys n indians
Characters that were fodder/meat shields

I'm still chugging through actually commenting on all the pieces. Should be finished by tomorrow.

If you would like further discussion or critique, let me preemptively guide you to the Fiction Advice Thread and the Fiction Farm respectively. I don't mind if people respond to google docs comments, but be aware I might not see all of them if I get a bunch. Other people are more than welcome to continue to jump on commenting, as a lot of you apparently have.

Your move, Echo.

Sitting Here fucked around with this message at Oct 29, 2013 around 05:51

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.

This is an even better judgement post

Sebmojo vs Sitting Here: Ultrabrawl IV: Another Subtitle

I dunno you kept changing the name or something.

OK yeah I'm the secret judge woooo mysterious OK carry on

ROUND ONE

So this was Lord Windy's prompt with the powerful women and the stilettos, and first of all you both lost POINTS with me by not featuring actual stilettos in your stories, but instead going with high heeled shoes or whatever. But then Sitting Here lost even more points by having the entire premise being "Oh my goodness, gender reversal, the ladies are in the board room and the man is in high heels and is a PA, how topsy turvy!" Not enough to carry a story in which otherwise, a bunch of people talk about policy or whatever the hell it was I dunno. And I preferred Seb's literal interpretation of powerful women as well.

So.

ROUND ONE TO SEBMOJO

ROUND TWO.

According to the very minuscule amount of research I could be bothered doing just now, this prompt was something like slice of life, speculative fiction, music. It might've been different for each of you from memory but I can't be bothered looking it up.

Seb, I didn't really like your narrative style in this one. It takes a lot for a story to rise above a "Ah yes, come have a beer with me and I will unload some exposition on you" story. And then nothing happened in your story, so. Yeah.

I kind of liked Sitting Here's story even though it had a character with apostrophes in their name, and it got all kind of weird and existentialish or something, so

ROUND TWO TO SITTING HERE mostly by virtue of you didn't have an old man in a bar dump a bunch of exposition on us.

OH AND WHAT A COINCIDENCE, THAT MEANS IT IS NOW DOWN TO THE THIRD STORY TO BE A TIEBREAKER

So one interesting thing here is that Sitting Here submitted on time but at over double the word limit, whereas Sebmojo took his sweet time and eventually got a word count reduced to 200, so you're both terrible right away. But then Sitting Here's story was pretty good and Seb's pretty much wasn't, and I've run out of what little enthusiasm I had for actually critting any individual elements of the stories, I mean 2,500 words what the hell I'm not going through lines or anything.

But if you looked closely you might've noticed that there's a final judgement there, that's right,

WINNER OF ROUND THREE AND THE COVETED TITLE OF 'NOT AS AWFUL AS THE OTHER PERSON IT WAS OUT OF' (BUT STILL TERRIBLE AND SHOULD FEEL BAD, 2,500 WORDS, STREWTH ETC) IS SITTING HERE YAAAAAY

Oh and apparently the other judges might offer more words about exactly what it is about each of your stories that made them all terrible, whatevs.

Chairchucker Out, Suckas.

Echo Cian
Jun 16, 2011



oh gently caress I have to read poo poo agai-

Erm.


Week 65: Songs We Were Singing

This week is simple: I want genre fic with music strongly incorporated into the plot, setting, whatever; the more integral and creative, the better. My only caveat is that I don't want to read about something as mundane as a dude starting a band in his garage. I'd prefer it not be set in the modern world at all. It's genre fic - use it.

Finding a specific inspirational song is optional.

Wordcount: 1000 words max
Co-Judges: BadSeafood and Sitting Here

Signup Date: 11:59:59 PM on Friday the 1st, EST
Submission Date: 11:59:59 PM on Sunday the 3rd, EST

As usual, feel free to join #kyrena on SynIRC for any questions.

And one other thing, just so we're clear:

quote:

"Dialogue" attribution.

Entrants:
Roguelike - Little Drummer Girl
STONE OF MADNESS - The Bonedrum
Fraction - The Games
Tyrannosaurus - Slave
Chairchucker - God from the (Tin) Machine
Quidnose - Etude #44
Erogenous Beef - Sharp Harmony
inthesto - Duet
Fumblemouse - 'Dimension' for Strings
Kaishai - Music to Draw By
Mercedes - 237
Ronnie_Long - Do Robots Dream of LeAnn Rimes?
Schneider Heim - Take Me Home
docbeard - The Day the Music Died
Helsing - it's a bitch convincing people to like you
Jeza - Blood and Tequila
DasNasty - Ballad of the Cicadas

Failures:
Haam
Bitchtits McGee
dmboogie
Fuckin' Nubile Hillock

Echo Cian fucked around with this message at Nov 5, 2013 around 03:41

inthesto
May 12, 2010

There is a point where we needed to stop, and we have clearly passed it.

BUT LET'S KEEP GOING AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!


Count me in, jackasses.

owl milk
Jun 28, 2011


I would have given myself last honestly. Guess that's a lesson to not write while dead tired.

In for this week, hope I can do better.

Erogenous Beef
Dec 20, 2006

i know the filthy secrets of your heart


I've submitted my story to Kazka press. I am also in for this week.

Erogenous Beef fucked around with this message at Oct 29, 2013 around 14:33

STONE OF MADNESS
Dec 28, 2012

PVTREFACTIO




this ol' thing

I need to flex my wriceps; I'm in with this
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T8jPPxh3PAk

STONE OF MADNESS fucked around with this message at Oct 29, 2013 around 12:42

Bitchtits McGee
Jul 1, 2011


Still gotta format my story for submission. I'll get the wheels turning for this week while I'm doing that.

docbeard
Jul 18, 2011

High marks for compassion, low marks for survival skills





quote:

Kazka Press
9:06 AM (3 minutes ago)

to me
We have received your submission and will reply to it in the near future. Thank you!

-Michael Haynes
Editor, Kazka Press

And...what the hell. In.

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007


Blood Empress of Thunderdome

Tap to emit spores


Clapping Larry

Chairchucker posted:

This is an even better judgement post

WINNER OF ROUND THREE AND THE COVETED TITLE OF 'NOT AS AWFUL AS THE OTHER PERSON IT WAS OUT OF' (BUT STILL TERRIBLE AND SHOULD FEEL BAD, 2,500 WORDS, STREWTH ETC) IS SITTING HERE YAAAAAY




I'll take it!

Me IRL:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OPURxkrl2aE#t=77s

Roguelike
Jul 29, 2006

THUNDERDOME LOSER

gently caress this prompt, I have no ideas for it at all. I'm in.

Also submitted last weeks shiznit.

Fraction
Mar 27, 2010

CATS RULE DOGS DROOL

FERRETS ARE ALSO PRETTY MEH, HONESTLY




I have no ideas at all but gently caress it, in for this week.

quote:

We have received your submission and will reply to it in the near future. Thank you!

-Michael Haynes
Editor, Kazka Press

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010



Legit Cyberpunk



Good fight, Blood Empress. Until next time.

Ronnie_Long
Jun 7, 2003

cock of the walk

In.

dmboogie
Oct 4, 2013



Never give up, never give in.

Quidthulhu
Dec 17, 2003

Stand down, men! It's only smooching!


As a music major and drama teacher I am in on this!

Symptomless Coma
Mar 30, 2007
for shock value

Sitting Here posted:


I don't mind if people respond to google docs comments,

Having looked through a bunch, mine is the only one with absolutely no comments on it from anyone. Did I gently caress up that badly?

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010



Legit Cyberpunk

Symptomless Coma posted:

Having looked through a bunch, mine is the only one with absolutely no comments on it from anyone. Did I gently caress up that badly?

Naw, I missed it when I was raging and spluttering my way through the pile. I'll crit you up.

dmboogie
Oct 4, 2013



Er, mine doesn't have any, either. Did I improperly set up comments or something? (Sorry if it just hasn't been gotten to yet.)

dmboogie fucked around with this message at Oct 29, 2013 around 21:34

autism ZX spectrum
Feb 7, 2007



Fun Shoe

fuckin' in gently caress, I fuckin guess

Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.


Nubile Hillock posted:

fuckin' in gently caress, I fuckin guess
Sup' baby Chill, how about a flash rule?

Your story may not contain profanity of any description, not even mom and pop favorite goshes and darns.

Helsing
Aug 23, 2003

I'M ESCAPING TO THE ONE PLACE THAT HASN'T BEEN CORRUPTED BY CAPITALISM...

SPACE!


Just submitted my story to Kazka. That was a really awesome prompt idea and even if all I get is a rejection letter I'm extremely happy that I actually submitted a story to a real venue for writers. Seriously, that was really cool!

Oh, and sign me up for this week as well.

autism ZX spectrum
Feb 7, 2007



Fun Shoe

Bad Seafood posted:

Sup' baby Chill, how about a flash rule?

Your story may not contain profanity of any description, not even mom and pop favorite goshes and darns.

Whatevs seadoof, like that's gonna slow me down

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Dank Fishbong
Jan 17, 2013

by XyloJW


I'm in.

  • Locked thread
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