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Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


In. I need more reason to write.

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Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


I wrote Fire-Girl. I would like a longer crit on my story.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


"In," she snuffled, remembering that time she was allergic to cats.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Fifty-Yard Dash

(422 words)

http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?...Fifty-Yard+Dash

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Dec 30, 2014 around 04:43

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


In for this week.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Katy’s Doll
(998 words)

http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?...aty%5C%27s+Doll

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Dec 4, 2014 around 08:21

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Peas and Carrots
104 words

It was the easiest part of Sunday Speech Dinner. Mom had conjured an entire ham with perfect honey glaze and pineapple slices. Dad had made out pillowy mounds of mashed potatoes and butter-drenched cornbread dressing. Sis had whipped up a perfect strawberry rhubarb pie. Even my three-year-old brother had managed to speak clearly enough to create the butter biscuits.

It’d be the first time I’d get to participate since the Mice Cream incident. I just had to say two words over the table and dinner would be served.

When the swarm rose up—covered in carrots—I knew I was in trouble again.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


In.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Letters from Elsewhere
(1179)

http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?...+from+Elsewhere

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Dec 4, 2014 around 08:22

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Display, Don’t Play
(120)

Mom caught me just as I’d gotten the pink sequined dress on the red-headed dolly; it’d been a tight fit. “What are you doing?” she shrieked, snatching the doll out of my hand.

“Playing.”

She shook the doll at me before realizing she’d done so. “You know better than to go into my storage cabinet!”

“It’s just the hallway closet,” I grumbled, watching her start sorting out the many containers I’d pulled down. She’d probably be there for hours “fixing” her doll collection. I didn’t understand why she just let her dollies sit stuffed away like that, in Ziploc bags, with little white labels like “1969 Bubble” and “74 Malibu”. Some weren’t even out of the box.

Parents were weird.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


In.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Scrubbing the Evidence
(1001)

http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?...ng+the+Evidence

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Dec 30, 2014 around 04:40

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Just as Important

Thanks for the “tip” on your hundred-dollar dinner charge, Reverend Strump, but my kids can’t can eat Eternal Salvation for lunch.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


In for this week, to glory or to failure.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Ignorance is Bliss
(770)

http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?...orance+is+Bliss

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Dec 4, 2014 around 08:24

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


I'm actually awake before 1 pm, which can be a good thing or a bad thing.

First three people who ask get crits from me. More might be offered depending on how those go.

ETA: Doing em for crabrock, Starter Wiggin, and Grandmaster.flv As suggested, you'll get them post judgement.

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Apr 14, 2014 around 20:04

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Thunderdome LXXXIX: We Don’t Need No Water, Let The drat Roof Burn

I won this poo poo? How the entire gently caress? This kind of situation calls for a party. So that’s what your story is going to be about.

Write me a story about a party. Birthday, wedding reception, wake, college shenanigans, house party, house party two, pajama-jammy-jam, “praise God I didn’t shoot my foot off while hunting,” whatever. As long as there’s a gathering of people showing up at one location celebrating or doing something.

Plus, there must be the following in every story: Fire. Water. Grass. Interpret that poo poo as thou wilt.

Word Count: 1200 to make me rue my entire college career.

No fanfic, no erotica, and for extra “don’t do that poo poo” poo poo, don’t write about drugs. (Liquor being the only exception). Or do, but have your word count cut in half.

You got until 11:59 p.m. PST Friday—that’s “Good” Friday—to inform me I’m gonna be reading your crazy word splatters, and until 11:59 p.m. Sunday – that’s the end of Zombie Jesus Day—to throw said word splatter on the wall for me to stare cock-eyed at and wish I’d never majored in English.

Party Hosts:
Nethilia
Some Guy TT
sebmojo

Party Goers:
Djeser
crabrock
leekster
Hocus Pocus
Turtlicious
QuoProQuid
WeLandedOnTheMoon!
Starter Wiggin
curlingiron
kurona_bright
Noah
Chairchucker
Erogenous Beef
Jonked
Sir Azrael
Kalyco
tenniseveryone
The News at 5
Bushido Brown
Drunk Nerds
Grandmaster.flv
Cache Cab
Jeep
nickmeister
Whalley
Thalamas
Gau
PootieTang
Mercedes
Entenzahn (Flash Rule: Your party is a birthday party for a child under the age of five. The story is from their viewpoint.)
GlassLotus
itsgotmetoo
Fumblemouse
Grizzled Patriarch
Maultaschen
Kaishai
Walamor
Phobia

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Apr 21, 2014 around 03:53

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


crabock Crit:

crabrock posted:

Get What’s Coming
928 words


Tom’s wife and kids had laughed at him when he buried his money in the yard. (First line and I'm interested. That's a good thing. I can and have dumped an entire story on the first few lines/paragraphs/chapters.) She left, took the kids and changed their last names back to hers. His kids sneered at him on Skype and questioned his manliness. The whole world laughed with them—until the trees started growing.

His wife piled the kids into the car and they (maybe cut down to "The family?" feels a little repetitive) showed up on his front porch with their alligator-skin bags overflowing with clothes and electronics. He didn’t let them inside. No, Tom thought, I don’t think I’ll ever talk to them again.

Instead he passed his days under his trees. Their bark shimmered like gold, giving way to twisting branches that reached out and drooped toward the ground. Buds glimmered on the tips of the branches, and dappled amongst the gold were green bills that unrolled in the early morning, wet with dew.

Tom took his usual early-morning stroll and plucked 10s, 20s, and 100s (Picky me, but I hate seeing numbers under 100 not spelled out/with 's) that hung low enough for him to reach. He trod over the withered bills on the ground: torn and ripped, serial numbers smudged, faces of the founding fathers contorted into unrecognizable horrors. (Loving this sentence) It was a race to gather as many bills as he could before the desert sun baked the bills worthless.

He filled his bucket with the harvest until he could fit no more. (Filling a bucket assumes that it can't hold no more.) With a few more people he could substantially raise his profits, but after they (his family? The world? Mysterious They) laughed at him he’d never entertained the idea for longer than it took him to soak one bill in lemon water. In the middle of his money grove was a lone lemon tree. (how did it get there) The citric acid stopped the aging process on the plucked bills, much like it stops the oxidation and browning of sliced apples.

The only person Tom let into his orchard was Alex, the little boy from across the street, whose mother was too busy getting high to pay either of them much attention.

“I like you, kid,” said Tom. “You’re not some money-grubbing sycophant like everybody else.”

Alex looked up at him with confused eyes.

Tom laid every soaked bill out on a wire rack to dry. “When I die, I’m leaving everything to you.” The boy shrugged and helped Tom flatten the dry bills with heavy objects. Tom fixed them PB&Js for lunch and told his stories from the war, reminisced about the good ol’ days, and ranted about the liberal scourge that was ruining America.

Alex nibbled on his sandwich and listened attentively. (by itself because?)

They watched cartoons until the boy’s mom came home.

Alex visited most days, and Tom, not needing to work anymore, welcomed somebody to talk with. The boy grew up and Tom paid for him to attend the best botany program, and bought him a house with its own small orchard. (this sentence has too much "and" for me) Tom insisted on giving Alex a money tree for himself, but Alex refused. Alex enjoyed flying back on weekends to help Tom flatten bills, even though the old man had more money piled in his basement than he knew what to do with.

“You should at least take a suitcase-full with you.” (I know this is Tom talking, but that's because I'm quick; might wanna specify for at least a few lines.)

“No, you’ve already give me more than enough.”

“I’d rather you have it, in the end.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Well, they’re sure as hell not getting it.”

The two men stacked the bills, ate sandwiches and debated politics.

Shortly after Alex returned to school, (Which time? He's flying back every weekend, so is this after a semester or a weekend or what?) he received word that the old man had died. They (The mysterious They!) said he’d fallen asleep with a lit cigarette and burned the whole house to the ground.

Alex knew the old man never smoked, and smiled.

Everybody but Alex brought lawyers to the reading of the will. He winced under the glares shot at him when everything was left to him. There was screaming, and crying, and promises of drawn-out legal cases.

“There is precedence of overturning a will where the deceased had been conned.” (who's saying this all calm)

“Family comes first.” (mystery talking people are talking in oddly calm voices after hearing about some random kid getting all Daddy's stuff)

“I don’t want your father’s possessions,” Alex said, quieting the room. “I am thankful for the time I spent with him, and for the gifts he has already given me. The money in my investments already make me more than I can ever spend.”

The shouts of anger resumed, but Alex held up his hand and they quieted.

“I only want one thing. item of your father’s, and that is his His old lemon tree.” Alex paused, but the shouting did not resume. None of them had ever been present to watch Tom process the bills.

“Whatever, let the bastard have the stupid tree,” said Tom’s eldest son. The rest of the siblings laughed and sneered at Alex.

“What an idiot to give up a fortune.” (the mystery talkers are back)

“Why settle for some measly investments when you could grow billions?” (they chatter on)

“Figures that dad Dad would take in a stray just as stupid as he was.” (folks be jabbering, don't know who)

Alex took a taxi straight to the charred remains of Tom’s house. (no taping off of the scene, burnt house just there for the looting. Also, the orchard didn't burn? Lucky.) He retrieved a shovel from the tool shed that still clung to life, (not sure if it's the shed or the shovel but it's allllive~) and dug the small lemon tree out of the grove. The tree was short compared to the giant, golden trunks that surrounded it. It’s Its growth had been stunted by the copper and nickel in the soil, which imbued the tree’s unique fruits with special preservative properties.

Tom’s children arrived by limo and rushed into the orchard, shoving their pockets full of wilted bills and drunkenly congratulating each other. They threw the keys to Tom’s old pickup at Alex. (what does the truck have to do with anything) “Take that piece of garbage with you, idiot.” (mystery talkers are talking)

Alex nodded and loaded the lemon tree into the back of the pickup, gave the taxi driver a sizable tip, and drove back home.

Weakest Link: All these people are talking and while I know they're Tom's family after he kicked it, they could use some tags on who's chattering over who. If you were going for chatter/faceless family mass/cacophony, it didn't come through and more came off like confusing. There is a lot of mystery "they" doing stuff. The last lines are also sort of "...and that's it?" He drove back home. ....and? And what after that? The last line sort of meanders towards nothing.

Strongest Chain: Love the descriptions of the tree especially the wrecked bills. Loving the part where Alex knew more about how Tom wouldn't have died from leaving a smoked cigarette to burn, though the "and smiled" wasn't needed. Definitely conveys that Alex knows more about Tom than anyone in his family.

Picky Bitch poo poo: My eye gets twitchy when numbers under one hundred aren't typed out. Same with things being explained out that aren't needed for a short story. We've only got so many words; there's ways to tighten up explanations of sliced apples and why the lemon tree is short. Use contractions: for example, "I am thankful for the time I spent with him, and for the gifts he has already given me." reads really stiff and formal. Alex comes in a touch late for the story shifting to him as the focus character. I would've rather seen it all from Alex's side and maybe have Tom's part of how the tree grew and all that told while they processed the money. Speaking of the money, does it grow any other denominations of money?

Overall: There have been many a story about growing money from trees, but I liked this one more than most I've read--I was grabbed from the first line even though I could see that the money was going to grow into trees. Solid, but could use some precision in spots and really be tighter in others. I think a better ending line would be moving the part about processing the bills ("None of them had ever been present to watch Tom process the bills.") to be the last line. That would more convey that Alex knew that the growing money would be worthless to anyone without knowing what to do to it, and add a punch.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Entenzahn posted:

Requesting a punitive flash rule
Your party is a birthday party for a child under the age of five. The story is from their viewpoint.

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Apr 17, 2014 around 22:01

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Less than three hours to sign up!

ETA:

Grizzled Patriarch posted:

Welp, I failed to submit anything my very first time in the dome. It won't happen again. In.

THUNDERDOME posted:

People who sign up and then don't post a story are the worst kind of people.

IF YOU DON'T SUBMIT A STORY AFTER SIGNING UP YOU BEST BE TOXXING YOURSELF

do it twice in a row and you don't even gotta worry about ever showing your face in the 'dome again.

So you and any other skip outs throwing a on that or just gonna sit there like that. I know it ain't official but...

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Apr 19, 2014 around 04:23

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


And signups are so closed!

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


You chucklemucks have THREE HOURS to party before the cops break it up.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Cheese it, it's the cops!

Entries closed!

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Results of the 89th Thunderdome, The Party Games

Having spent an evening reading jumbles of words and unable to drink to blur the pain, let’s do this.

Pin the Tail On the WINNER:

curlingiron wrote a touching story about a group of gamers dealing with one of the loss of their own. Double honor for making this D&D-despising judge love this D&D story more than any other she's ever read. Bravo. I pass the party hat to you.

Party On, HONORABLE MENTION:

We Landed On The Moon, despite the initial formatting wince on my personal end, wrote something touching about people facing down the end of the world and made the formatting work. That's how you play with words.
Entenzahn took a flash rule and made it shine, writing about a kid who wanted that cake and didn't get it with a hilarious ending line.
Erogenous Beef wrote a party blowing up (literally) that rolled with lots of good description and riveted from start to end.

DISHONORABLE MENTION, Next Time Bring Chips:

PootieTang didn't go anywhere or say anything, despite many words about warriors.
Sir Azrael also went absolutely nowhere with cardboard characters and ended on a weed joke.
Hocus pocus wrote political fanfic and by all rights should be DQed. Boo.

LOSER who Pissed in the Punchbowl:

Drunk Nerds wrote some weird rear end poo poo about a valet stalking a director, doing weird poo poo to get his screenplay read, and then getting pissed because his writing was poo poo. You don’t get any cake.

A special failing call-out for Cache Cab. A hint for future trick writing. If your special snowflake formatting makes it so a judge can’t read the story, don’t further compound it by not leaving any text that can be read. As soon as the middle image started pulsing I got so sick I almost threw up. Congrats, you pulled a judge that’s photosensitive. Dis-loving-qualified. Get out my house.

You'll get your quick paragraph crits over the course of the week, and if you want longer ones you can ask after they're up. Now someone clean up this mess.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Wise Fool crits for Grandmaster.flv and Starter Wiggin, with Party Week #1 coming down the chute later this evening.

Grandmaster.flv posted:

fuckin' lol next time I'm not writing scifi because I spent too loving long worldbuilding. Also this is my first entry ever and I am garbage at writing dialogue but no excuses.
(blah blah blah write up or shut up)

Oh, HENRY
1,468 words
(And we start with the word count above what it should be, that's always a good sign. [/sarcasm])

From this high up the skyline of the city seemed almost pretty. poo poo, it almost looked tranquil from this distance. The neon glow faded into this beautiful sea of lights, and unlike at street level, she didn't feel oppressed by the advertisements and billboards everywhere, shilling their wares. (My personal rule of thumb? If you need more than two commas in the sentence and there's no inner clauses, the sentence is too long.) The skyscrapers seemed much less ominous from a mile above, and she could actually see the drat moon and stars for once. (Who the gently caress is "she"? Does she get a name? I mean, some stories run on nameless people but I hate nameless characters. Use a name generator.)

And its not like she didn't have plenty of time to enjoy the view, since the drat chopper was on autopilot. She missed the feel of the joystick, and quite frankly would've just jumped in herself but "mission parameters" dictated that she run the digital side of the infiltration and let the chopper run itself. (this sentence is long.)

The fact that last time she was out she crashed both the company car AND the motorcycle Chairman Lito so the background person gets a name but not her? had so graciously loaned her didn't really help much but given the uh, (poo poo WE DON'T NEED ) blatantly illegal nature of her missions, something about how she was never actually caught on any of these jobs ingratiated her to the executive board.

You have taken three paragraphs to tell me gently caress all. I don't have a name and I have only a spit of a plot. Instead I have some bloated descriptions that could have been pared down and some backstory I don't need. This could have been one paragraph and a lot less words.

Tonight's mission was fairly run of the mill. Take down perimeter security, set down on the roof, bust into the datacenters, and snatch and grab and get out. Silently. Chairman Lito had been very VERY hat tip, if you have to say "very" twice in a row use a better word specific about exactly how quiet it had to be.

Her partner for tonight was this stoic type by the name of named K-Roll. Partner gets a name, she doesn't. Ugh. Young enough to not remember the old days. Before the self-contained company "campuses", before those companies merged, and merged, and merged again, annexing entire towns. hi there sentence fragment haven't seen you in a while poo poo, the kid was probably born after the fall of the US government, probably was born into one of those megaplexes that sprang up once everything went private and the US became a series of privately owned nation-states. on and on and on about backstory poo poo

He didn't really say much. They had been running recon ops for the past week, and after their initial meeting, he was strictly business. She couldn't tell if he was a pro, or just really fuckin' shy, but either way it suited her just fine. Dude was either at his terminal or in his "cage" lifting weights or some other caveman poo poo. She was decked out in all kinds of augmentations. He seemed to be a lot more old-school about his approach to things. More backstory poo poo that's not even needed in a short story. Sweet loving writing gods.

They had been canvassing one of the habs, trying to find an in with an engineer or somebody who had access to the internal datanets, posing as Arbiters. It was one of her favorite covers because, to most people Arbiters were below rent-a-cop status and only existed to add more bureaucratic horseshit to the process of keeping the infrastructure going. lots of words leading to nothing.

poo poo, her Arbiter uniform even had her loving proper name on the badge. "Sossa Grey, Deputy, BoostrapCorp" in nice bold black letters. Oh, so now we get a name, all the way down here in the middle of the story. It should have been much earlier. K-Roll was a little harder to make convincing, but he was muscular and imposing enough that people didn't really ask many questions.

After hours of inquiries, turning up jack poo poo, one of the housewives seemed to take a liking to K-Roll, the neanderthal looking motherfucker, and pointed us in the direction of one of the penthouse residents, one of the higher ups in accounting for Bootstrap by the name of Ellis. On and on and on this sentence went. We stepped into the elevator, and getting out of the penthouse, it was clear that the top of this hab lived a very different life than those below. There were actual real, live plants in the landing, and not a single advertisement on any of the vidscreens. I stand by my prior comma statement.

I did you just change POV on me, bitch? BZZZT don't don that rang the doorbell, not really looking forward to talking to yet another useless suit. I You did, eeeegh looked back at K-Roll, who had the same deadpan expression on his face. I swear to god the kid might be retarded, but the Chairman's personnel brief had nothing but glowing commendations on his hacking work, let alone his more uh, *glare* physical abilities. comma comma comma comma

The door swung open, and I was surprised to see the man behind it. If you have to tell me this it's flat. A fairly slim man, almost handsome if it weren't for his drat beard, dressed about as well as any of these penthouse HENRYs were greeted us.

"Evening, arbiters. What can I do for you tonight?"

"Sir, I'm from Enterprise Division. We've had multiple latency complaints from penthouse residents and we wanted to take a look at your hub" period missing

"Oh but of course, come right in! I've been having some bandwith problems tonight and I'm glad Enterprise is so on top of things!"

It wasn't necessarily a lie. The particular hubs Boostrap used had a nasty tendency to poo poo themselves if you prodded them a certain way, and weirdly enough K-Roll had dropped a bug on the hab's intranet to let us play with them at will. Including this dumb bastard's.

Ellis's apartment was pretty drab, even by HENRY standards. He could afford real fruit, in the future we will not be abble to afford actual food and some of his furniture was even real wood. Something twigged me out though. A lot of these things were a little TOO *if you have to cap it to stand out you're writing it wrong, use italics nice for what was collectively a shithole.

He caught me staring a little too intently at his fruit bowl. I almost got the feeling he was sizing me up almost as much as I was sizing him up.

"Those oranges are organic you know" All those commas you used earlier, and not one here. he said, slightly haughty [period needed] "I prefer most things in my life to be organic. Even in this day and age of technology, there's something to be said for the old ways. Would you like one?"

I shot K-Roll a look as if to say "its IT'S not like I can afford this poo poo on my salary" and I went right in as he fiddled with the hub. Ellis was completely oblivious, prattling on about the history of that orange, how it was grown in some grove far to the south in another complex and how the taste reminded him of his old house, and how the plex was filling up with tourists and other unseemly types. on and on and on and on and on.

While he was gushing about his orange, K-Roll was working on the hub, dropping in backdoor that would let us commandeer all of Ellis's traffic, so we could shape his traffic and do all the intranet stuff we needed to break in. on and on and on Once he nodded at me I broke in politely continued crimes against punctuation "Sir, it seems like my partner has finished up with your hub. Let us know if you have any further trouble" [period needed again]

He smiled, and as we were walking out, he followed us, carrying a scooter. Fuckin' HENRYs were intent on showcasing their wealth, and the latest trend was these stainless steel monstrosities. "I'm going out for a drink, would either of you care to join me?" he said as we got into the elevator This sentence is pregnant.

"Sorry sir, we're still on shift. Another time, perhaps" I'm not saying it again. I said, coldly. "Oh of course, of course" he smiled as he unfolded his scooter and rolled off into the night.

I put a space here, because that's how you dialogue

K-Roll bursted BURST *eyetwitch* out laughing as soon as he was out of earshot. "That dude gives me a bad vibe, yo. Creep status" there is something in the water.

That was the last full sentence he haid *stare* said to her, POV SHIFTS WILL GET YOU KICKED in the week following, and even on the chopper right now. Speaking of which, dishonor on you and your cow the landing chime sounded, so she got ready to move. The Chairman was right, K-Roll had done his homework because she got all the way to the datacenter without so much as a peep.

He stood guard outside as she darted in and hopped on a console. She couldn't help but glance at the data she was jacking. Highly unusual, but then again this job tended to be exactly that. This time, however she was seeing some VERY "Very" is a weak rear end word. questionable financial transactions. Almost as if somebody at Bootstrap was intentionally trying to sink the ship to leverage a buyout from my loving POV shifts company. Not her and back it goes question to ask. That being said, she couldn't help but notice a massive acquisition order for some fruit flash by. Right as the transfer finished, the console went apeshit Don't do that. and alarms started ringing out.

K-Roll charged in. "Let me deal with security you get your rear end to the chopper and we'll deal with exfil when we get to it. GO GO GO".

I POV SHIFTS WILL GET YOU PUSHED DOWN STAIRS beat feet *stare* to the stairs. No way I could make it up in the elevator in time. I heard K-Roll cursing over comms as security poured into the datacenter but I was too busy sprinting up the stairs to care. I burst through the doors to the roof, only to find the fuckin' Just type the drat word out chopper was all the way on the other side.

As I ran to the chopper I heard the elevator chime, and the sound of wheels, and a foot rhythmically hitting the concrete. By the sound of it there was no way I could make it to the chopper before the scooter caught up with me.

I sighed as I drew my katana.
I sighed as I came to the end of a story that didn't have anything worth a drat happen.

Weakest Link: First of all, you bounced from POV to POV. "She" to "I" to "she." Don't loving do that in a short story. Pick one view or the other, especially when the POV shift is applying to the same drat character. I see no wise fools, unless it's girl with one-off name. Or the guy in the apartment with his fruit bowl? Fssh. There's a lot of wordbarf that try to scream "this is the FUTURE" but it is wholly unneeded. The story came to a weak confrontation that ended with a katana, of all things.

Strongest Chain: In this story the strongest chain is made of baby spit and wet gum. That is, there ain't one. If there was I couldn't see it past the drat SHIFTS.

Picky Bitch poo poo: "When you use dialog," she said, "you put commas and periods inside the quotation marks." She dug into the citrus fruit with her fingers. "Yes, even at the end of the sentence. And yes, even when the paragraph is over. If you don't do this, your writing is poo poo to read. It's basic high school grammar, for gently caress's sake."

Overall: Don't write like this. The characters were weak and barely distinguishable. There were a lot of words wasted on poo poo I didn't give a gently caress about--all that "worldbuilding" wasn't needed in a story that should have been 1200 words max. Worst of all, the story meandered to a clichéd ending that didn't even make anything happen.

####

Starter Wiggin posted:

Truth and Beauty Bombs
811 words


It’s nighttime, and I’m placing C4 around the perimeter of the building. Intriguing start, at least. It’s ramshackle enough, but you can never be too sure. I’ve got explosives packed around all the major supports that I can find, and extra just for flair. I’ve also set more explosives on a 10 spell out numbers, they don't add to the count minute timer. That’s when I figure anyone who is going to come see what happened will have showed up, and then BOOM! The most invigorating vacation yet.

There’s a small hill a bit back from my project. I shelter behind it, away from the brunt of the first blast. These could have been one sentence. It The explosion? Say that. goes off without a hitch. I climb to sit on top, and the melody of far off Use dashes, they're nice. sirens trickles through the cold night air.

The fire department is the first to arrive, their hoses aimed towards the flames that lick the sky. Behind them are police, then a lone ambulance. I crouch behind the hill again. The rescue workers stay back, but not far enough to avoid the second wave of explosions. Screams puncture the night, and the adrenaline that I crave so dearly is overflowing from my every pore. That's...not a nice mental picture. Through veins, yes. Out of pores? Ew, it feels gross. My eyes feast on the scene playing out below me. It’s slow and painful and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

###

I get excited for burning buildings. Tragedy pushes adrenaline through my fibers. Natural disasters make me feel alive. I don’t throw caution to the wind; I vivisect it and determine it to be a hazard to my health. Being reminded of the temporary nature of life is my drug. I think Joey Comeau said it best, “I’d rather die terrified than live forever.” The man makes a great point. What’s the point of being alive if you’re not actually living? I don't like these last two sentences, they don't add anything and just tell me what you already said in the quote.

Don’t think that you’re crazy for thinking me insane or foolish; all my friends do. 90% of the time, don't write stories to the reader. This isn't a Choose Your Own Adventure Prompt. I can’t share this ‘hobby’, as it were, with them. They Your friends? Why not say that? worry for me. They call my obsession dangerous. For a while, they invited me to share in their hobbies, mountain biking and karaoke, but the rush isn’t there. It’s like comparing sandpaper and citrus, if you’ll pardon the butchered and trite analogy. I will not pardon it, to the execution chamber.

They don’t know the worst of it, though. If I need a fix, and nothing sufficiently insane is happening, I make my own fun. I don’t go too terribly far, really. I stick mostly to light arson. I’ve dabbled in pipe bombs. I’m experimenting with chlorine gas. These projects fill the times when the world has gone quiet around me.

This entire section feels like it should have been much earlier in the story. Yes, you've shocked us with the explosion, that's all fine and good for sheep, but now it meanders into his philosophy and slows everything down. This could have been woven into the above part, and the bottom part.

###

I didn’t think to count the explosions, so I didn’t realize that there were two that hadn’t gone off. They did, maybe five minutes after the second wave, and I didn’t duck or cover my face. I was too busy taking in my handiwork. The charges ignited and flared into the dark and smoky air, blinding me. This is so clunky.

My field of vision was destroyed. Everything, everywhere I looked, was a brilliant white. I covered my eyes with my hands and blinked, hard. Nothing. I could still hear the muffled sobbing coming from the wreckage below, and I listened while going through my options. You're pretty chill for a just blinded by an explosion you made guy.

I couldn’t walk home; it was hard enough to get out here without getting lost with my sight intact. I couldn’t go down to the paramedics; they were in no shape to help. My last and only option was to voice dial a friend and have them find me. But I had to wait until morning. If my friends came out here and found me right by this ‘crime scene’, they wouldn’t hesitate to turn me in. As far as they knew, my obsession only extended so far as things that I had no control over.

I waited until more sirens came and worked through the carnage of their friends. I waited until people that sounded important came and ruffled around with their dogs. I waited until I could feel the noon sun beating down on my upturned face, and then I called my friend. Repetitive, and not in a good way.

He found me, comma not needed and brought me to a hospital. He didn’t ask any questions; I think he was just resigned to not wanting to know how it happened. The doctors asked their questions and whispered in the corner.

“Don’t know that he’ll recover…”

“Psych eval for sure, maybe the third floor has room…” Why are they taking him to psych? Has he shown anything that would turn him in? Cause they don't just psych check you for being near an accident.

I got to talk to the shrink. She sounded calm, but what reason would she have not to? A newly-blinded man is probably not that much of a threat. She asked me how I was blinded, what I was doing so close to the scene of the explosion, why did I have explosive residue on my hands. If this is why he was hauled to psych, say so. So far it came off like he just, you know, got hauled off by routine, which don't happen. I guess I gave her the answers she wanted, because after that she only asked one more question before she left me.

“Why? What were you thinking?”

“I’d rather die terrified than live forever. Wouldn’t you?” Oh, the quote's back. We're ending on that. Fine.

Weakest Link: The part where we go into his headspace for wanting to set things on fire/blow things up is a slow drag between the actual stuff happening. Weave it in.

Strongest Chain: I like the part about why he's doing this. I just don't feel like it was in the right space.

Picky Bitch poo poo:There are lot of clunky sentences that jar my reading. Also, that citrus tie-in was weaksauce. Is he the wise fool? Cause to me he's just blowing poo poo up for the thrill, and that's crazy as poo poo but that's not foolish.

Overall: Like the premise, don't like the execution. Middle of the road.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


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 Apr 23, 2014 around 23:55

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


PARTY WEEK CRITS FOR THE CRIT GODS
House Party 2

#####

curlingiron - The Last Adventure
Winner

Party: D&D/mourning the dead
FWG: Speak to Plants, pool of water, fire above it.

A group of teenagers hold a D&D session together. However, one of the players died of cancer months ago. Through the DM (who was given this as a last wish), the lost player--both in game and out--leaves a final message to all of his friends. So less like a gaming session in the story, and more a gathering to mourn the dead.

As I said when critting Turtlicious's story, I’m not into D&D. I know the tropes loosely, but the only thing more boring to me than playing D&D is reading/watching people play D&D. So if you take the interpretation of "party" to mean "write about tabletop poo poo", you have to do some epically good rear end writing to make me give a gently caress. I know what I hate.

That's a lot of opening words, but it explains that you absolutely made me love this story. I was sort of plotting through the story until the mention of red rimmed eyes (I love telling a lot in a few details, I'm trying to do this myself), and the mention of a funeral, and then I sat up and wanted to know what was going on. This wasn't your standard gaming session in the least. As soon as Neil said "this isn't funny" I was hooked. And that hook carried me through the end, where I felt for every even those with only a line or two. This story was less about a gaming session and more about a group of getting an unexpected final message from a dear friend using a mode that mattered to all of them, including James. And the last voice waver from Theo? drat. Emotion in a line.

I sniffled reading this, which might sound weak to say, but that’s a good thing. Writing is supposed to make you feel something when you read it--and something other than disgust or irritation. Less than 1200 words and I gave a gently caress about everyone. Bra-loving-vo. That's how you get a win.

9/10.

#####

Entenzahn - Priorities
HM

Party: B-day for kid under 5, as was requested in your flash rule.
FWG: Sitting on the lawn, fire catching onto stuff, uncle’s “water” as well as a bottle.

Little kid wants his birthday cake by himself instead of having to share with anyone because he's four at most, if that (old enough to process birthday, young enough to not process much else). In his efforts to get to the cake (and not processing his uncle is a drunk) he accidentally sets house on fire playing with the stove, his uncle’s booze doesn’t help, and he don’t get his cake.

I threw a flash rule at you, and you delivered in less words with no drug penalty. (Booze didn't actually count. My rule was more because I didn't want 30+ stories of grass to be interpreted as "LOL time to write about pot.") His not understanding his uncle's "water", interpreting the stove dials as ways to cake, and his absolute disgust with the firemen who "probably ate his cake" is perfect child self-centered. This story should warn all who plan to eventually have kids: watch them, lest they set their cake on fire. There were parts that didn't seem like kid internal dialogue, but it didn't jar me much.

8/10. This was also one of my personal high contenders.

#####

Bushido Brown - Some Sunny Day

Party: Celebration of wiping out Earth, using "Earth" culture
FWG: “grass”, Kool-aid/ocean water, people on fire except not Earth!

Ugh you’re talking about aliens mining planets, uhhhhhhgh. You know that thing I said about D&D before? It applies here. I also do not like heavy sci-fi. Magical realism, yes. High Level Sci-fi/High Fantasy, almost never. If I have to start seeing names made of Xs and Zs and other Often Forgotten Letters, my eyes cross. The twist I saw coming as soon as I saw the guy getting upset about Earth blowing up, which doesn't make for much of a twist. I did like the bit that Emotional Alien turned things on them by using a “pong” ball to blow the ship up, clever trick, Emo-lien. But if Alien Strip Miners, Inc. has been doing this countless times, why does earth get to be the one he finally suicide bombs over? Did the other planets not have grass, water, and culture, or am I supposed to care that I nearly got annihilated? Finally, the bit about from the human view didn’t really end it well.

5/10.

#####

kurona_bright - What's the Point?

Party: birthday party for younger sister
FWG: Grass on shoulders, memories of birthday candles past/napkins, water putting out fires.

Boy attends kid sister’s party. He thinks about neighbor/best friend in a totally not gay way except maybe a little? Then he has conversation with father about how has hasn’t moved on towards the future and you have to do that.

This story didn't have anything really like a plot. It's another story where the MC had the story happen around him. Stuff happened, but it didn’t happen to the protagonist bar him scrubbing his shoulder into the grass after a bird poo poo on him. He’s just...there, while stuff happens to him. Oh and he thinks about stuff briefly, before his father comes out and talks to him about how We All Have To Move On So Go Out And Meet New People, the classic cliché about high school kids I've read a bajillion times while sappy music plays in the background. I could have replaced Robert with a sock puppet. What’s the point, indeed.

4/10.

#####

The News at 5 - Wedding Presents

Party: wedding
FWG: Trees/grass, rain, tiki torches

Man goes to a wedding with a gun as his "wedding present" because the woman isn’t marrying him. He was going to shoot her or her husband or himself--it was all muddled up--but doesn’t kill anyone because it rains.

Did you just write friendzoned.txt? Jillian didn’t marry Paul so he wants to kill someone--her, her new husband, himself, maybe all three, maybe just him, it's not like it was clear--and spends most of the conversation fondling a revolver. I felt creeped out by this story, and not in a good way. If I was supposed to feel bad for a guy who didn't get his dream girl, I didn't. Ew.

3/10.

#####

WeLandedOnTheMoon! - Impact Point
HM

Party: End of the world, I’m feeling fine.
FWG: bluegrass, the water of the world, the fiery destruction smash.

Two people caught in the end of the world come together at the end. Literally, in the formatting and the story because the planets crush together into a smash-smush.

There was the initial wince of formatting wonk, but at least you didn’t do weird poo poo that made me upchuck, and you left text to read below. Thank you.

Moving into the story, it wasn't very clear if Dylan and Marie knew each other beforehand, or if they were just connecting for the first time in some way, or if they were from separate worlds or parallel versions of the same world smashing into each other. They knew each other enough to know each other's names, so I assumed parallel versions of the same world since Marie knew what New York was and made refs to her own home town. That could have been a lot clearer. It’s a good story with and without the formatting. Plus the formatting makes sense--I could see it in print being the kind of story you have to turn the book upside down to read Marie's part--so it got the HM.

8/10.

#####

nickmeister - Masks

Party: regular community get together
FWG: Grass, ocean, tiki torches and grills.

Man at a party is an outsider to everyone. The young woman who organized this monthly shindig is nice to him, but everyone else isn't. He almost loses his refund check and it floats towards the sea, which triggers a flash back. He has said check saved by the kind woman, and then everyone makes masks and the quirky girl dances with him.

There was something resembling characterization, but it gets smushed under repetitive language and weak metaphors. I ain't asking for a mystery novel in 1200 words, either say poo poo about people or don't but don't pussyfoot around it. Al is a wooden hearted guy who is scared of the ocean and everyone in this New Town acts like he has the Face Plague or something and he's Not Here To Make Friends, and I don't know why so I don't care. You wrote nothing that made me care about him or Quirky Girl With Creative Name Spelling, and the little that happens isn't much of a story. Spend less words on clunky wordplay and more on characters and actions. You only have so many.

4/10.

#####

Maultaschen - 4+ BR, Gorgeous View

Party: Literal house party, as in selling a house.
FWG: Lawn, deep sea reference, drinking water, pools, volcano ref, reactor cores,

Woman is selling a house for her family in North America. There are many strange people/things because Future, including a person who is creepering around ready to wipe out humanity with coded language that she doesn't notice. Then the Government shows up because CRIMES OF EARTH and it’s not the guy, it’s the other guy and there’s fires and shooting and running she falls into the core and then she’s a lightning goddess or something and screw you time to zot the world--

See how I summarized it? That's because the ending was rushed and out of nowhere and made no sense. I was with you until the ending. I cared about Belinda and her husband and her sick child, and why she was pushing hard to sell the house. I could even shake off the creepy guy because I got the feeling she would do anything for her daughter's sake, she's doing this to get her life stable again, ignore the weird and close the deal.

And then you veered left into crazy and cheese it it's the cops and everyone's running and the creepy guy just teleports and she's suddenly going to zap everyone around her when they want to know she's okay. Don't do that. Wacky twist endings suck.

5/10.

#####

PootieTang - The Messenger
DM

Party: ????
FWG: ????

There’s some knights or some poo poo and a lot of flowery language and nothing happens.

When I was a child in Elementary School back in the late 80s, one of my most hated writing assignments was to write "descriptive stories" which were not stories at all; they expected us to describe a picture in inane purple-laden prose that expected me to write fifty words describing the exact shade of color and softness of the fabric hat sitting on some bear's head. I think that was phased out by the time I was in fifth grade, but it lasted long enough that I hated every second of it because my child self knew that a full page of description was not a story.

This is a lot of words to say that I suspect that you were subjected to the same "descriptive stories" I slogged through, but you liked it. Because that is what you gave as a "story". Nothing happens. You describe a bunch of people getting sloppy wasted at a party, knights or something, and they talk of the King and Women and Goblets, then they ride to glory or something. And gently caress to all happened.

You should watch the Sesame Street Video I linked before. Now you don't even have to scroll.

2/10.

#####

Starter Wiggin - Thirsty

Party: Eclipse party.
FWG: bonfire, grass on the ground, water hides the dead.

Vampire “you” and your indeterminate partner make smexy kisses under a blood moon before you bite the poo poo out of them until they die, and you throw the corpse in the river before luring more fresh food.

Stories told in second person bother me; they scream that I'm supposed to feel myself as a character in the story and I can't lose myself in the words. First or third, first or third. I suspect you left everything gender neutral to not pick one or the other, but if you'd picked one you could have been a lot less ambiguous and blurry. There was interesting description and contrast (liked the part about the moon verses the dead under the Protagonist) but I could not get over that "you" hurdle. The lines with random song lyrics could have been cut out entirely, and I'd have lost nothing in the read--the second to last line was a decent rear end closer, and then you did that. No. Bad writer.

4/10.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


WRAP THIS PARTY UP (yes it's still party week crits)

Last 10 + 5 to grow on.

#####

Kaishai - Backdraft

Party: Celebration of a conquering.
FWG: Cooking fire, cleaning water, lemongrass.

The cook, Ronya, is dragged to the kitchen by a member of the army that has conquered her people. She is a good cook and so is ordered to cook the feast the conquerors will eat in the celebration of victory. As she cooks, her mind turns to her now-slain husband, and in her grief her emotions literally lace the food with her emotions; this causes the the soldiers to turn on their general because Magic.

Once I figured out what had happened, I loved the story. There were a few things that tripped me up, such as the names of the people around her. Making most of the conquerors nameless helped me focus more on Ronya--the story was about her, so any of their names could have been skipped, with the exception of the general and the guy that held her. And saying "because Magic" isn't a down cut to you--sometimes, magic just should happen, and in fact explaining it many times is like explaining jokes. The detail about her seeing the preserves and being reminded of her lost husband was a good touch.

High, but went with others for the HM.

8/10

#####

Kalyco - Domini Cannes – The Dogs of God

Party: Funerals, and then it looks like one at the end.
FWG: rain/tears, ?????

Two priests sneak targeted people past SS guards and into Poland.

This one took a long time to to get to where it was going. Less opening, more closing. Anytime someone says "my name is" in a story it jars me; there's other ways to spin names into the story. And I'm not sure if the party was the focus; there was a funeral at the start and a party of getting by at the end, but the middle was a lot of talking and travel that felt a little dragged on and tedious. Bouncing back and forth between "Fr." and "Father" was also an issue for my reading. One of the other. There's a lot of telling instead of or at the same time as showing, such as when Father John sees that Miriam is Romani, but then says so.

6/10

#####

leekster - Murky Waters

Party: Wake
FWG: lake, cremated bodies/ash, lawn

Two people try to spread ashes of two dead men, instead the pilot smears them on himself, there’s some controversy, it blurs together.

I can't tell your characters apart. There's a lot of names that don't distinguish who's who, and a lot of weird sentence structure. The few spatterings of dialogue don't tie anything together. At the end of the story I couldn't tell who was wearing whose ashes and who had jumped into the lake. If a reader can't tell characters apart or even what the ending is, then the story isn't good. Ther'es also a lot of "telling", such as this part: "Maria went off on a long tirade about how this family had always conspired against her; that her husband was guilty before he was even convicted in their eyes." Why didn't you show this? Everything is jumbled and nothing is clear.

4/10

#####

QuoProQuid - Hierophany

Party: Resurrection/Easter Party
FWG: Moses Parting seas, grass and dirt,

Nun and Angel rush to the party to end all parties.

This story isn't about the party; it's about a nun and an angel hijacking a car on Easter by his order, and driving around in it. Talking about the party isn't holding the party, and ending on the line that the party was "sweet" doesn't cover it. The ending is meek after all the HIGH OCTANE CAR DRIVING, which wasn't even that interesting. Lots of grammar and speech issues. Meh.

4/10

#####

Walamor - The Arboretum

Party: For plant hijacking?
FWG: flowers, trees and poo poo, fire exit, water dumping,

It’s the future and people are running around and the girl is hot and In The Future We Will Not Have Plants? I’m not even sure what happened.

The entire story was a jumble of futuretech and running around and Unique Names For Things to make them sound futuristic, like vibroknives and NeoCity and "sexy" women in body suits who smell like dirt and the worries of scrambling. You spend a lot of time jabbering on and on about things to make the reader go "OH MAN THE FUTURE" but there's no story in there. This feels like the opening of some Teen Dystopian style movie that doesn't go much of anywhere. Don't throw a bunch of crap at me about the future to make a story, I get enough of that reading teen lit.

4/10

#####

Jeep - A Cremation

Party: wake/funeral
FWG: plant that got peed in, things catching on fire, sea life/water

Man dies. The mourners, by his request, have a wake for him before he’s cremated. He wanted a wild party, so this becomes orgies and drunkenness, and during the process they set the church on fire, cremating the body in the process.

Interesting premise, but you didn't do much with it. So Sanders wanted to go out without visible mourning, and so everyone just fucks in public and drinks a lot. The parts with his daughter and wife interested me and the backstory of Saunder's life--which was like an infodump, sadly--but they got lost in the sea of drinking, pissing, and loving. There was so many places this story could have gone, but instead you went with the base factors of wild partying and people being awkward and drunk and ehhhh. She lost the crowd to drunken shenanigans and you lost me halfway through.

5/10

#####

Sir Azrael - The end of an Era
DM

Party: teens hanging out
FWG: lawn, water in booze, “fire” up joints eff you

Three girls with generic rear end names and two guys with generic rear end names hag out, one dumped her man, they’re going to summon demons, and you lost half the word count to make a throwaway joint line at the end of the story.

Everything is in single lines and everyone says everything or asks or intones and I hate you. There were no characters--just a list of names doing and saying and intoning and showing up, and I don't care what anyone said or anything they did. Write less like a fifth grader who just discovered drugs.

2/10

#####

Grizzled Patriarch - The Siege

Party: Feast in the middle of a siege
FWG: firing of canons, ???

There's a seige going on outdoors and inside everyone is trying to have a feast, but it's just there.

Nothing really happens in this story. There's a lot of descriptions of people and things, and I like this. But there's no action or intrigue. It feels like everything is going on outside the hall where the battles are happening. If you were trying to go for desperation or exhaustion among the rich during a siege, it didn't come through--it just felt tedious, like I was watching all this play out and waiting for it to end. If that's what Pavel was feeling, it more felt like he was just a fly on the wall watching everything, and the little he does just doesn't come across. I didn't feel for him, I just wanted there to be something happening other than him seeing everything go on.

4/10

#####

Hocus Pocus - A Man Alone With Himself
DM

Party: Political with old rulers
FWG: ????

FANFIC ABOUT POLITICIANS IS STILL FAN FIC. Stories about sad painting presidents are still fanfic. If we'd replaced all the Name Dropping and taken out all the political references in this story, this would just be a story about a sad old man who paints and his pitiful friends being sad at a party, attempting to relive their glory days like ex-jocks and playing practical jokes out of nowhere. You made me read about Karl Rove's ham head, go to hell.

You get nothing.

2/10.

#####

Noah - New Beginnings

Party: Birthday
FWG: Grass, inner fire fury, water and gin

Sister hates her birthday because poo poo has gone wrong the last two times. Her brother shoes up--he had wrecked one of the bad parties. She tells him to piss off but he stays and after some talking, she feels renewed.

Interesting premise, but bad execution. Primarily, your formatting pissed me off. Stop barfing commas at me or I’ll drown you. A lot of words were wasted on backstory dumps that could have been shrunk down, repetitive text (you said "time for new beginnings" three times, sweet loving gods) or descriptions we didn't need. I still don't know why Margie made up with Ben, unless the magic of hugging did it. Tighten your mess up.

5/10

#####

Fumblemouse - A Policy Of Perfection

Party: Retirement party
FWG: In the floating orb things.

Guy at his retirement party has major hallucinations before he dies.

I didn't like this story much. The characterization feels nonexistent, smothered in a bunch of well-done descriptions of Arnold's wild last moment hallucinations that take over before he dies. He's irritated, and he tries to talk. Then he dies. That's the whole story. I did, however, like the opening with his irritation with the misspelled engraving. That made me snerk. But it just didn't go anywhere, and I didn't feel it.

5/10

#####

Djeser - I did a good thing today

Party: Cabin party of DEATH.
FWG: death by lake, death by tree/death on the lawn, death by fireplace.

Doom omen tries to save teens from dying. Teens die anyways out of super panic at the omen's very presence.

This was a really funny story. I could feel the omen's utter frustration of having had to deal with this poo poo before, very "god drat it, not again." The sentences felt way too choppy, though, probably because of the repetition of "the shadow beast." There was probably another way to refer to her. The deaths are funny, but they're also pretty rushed--they're supposed to be shotgun, but they feel not quite fast enough to be perfect or slow enough to savor. I think the last two paragraphs could have been swapped, for a lot more of an ending impact--having SB think that she saved Maria and then jump to "whoops, no, she dead."

7/10

#####

crabrock - The High Ground

Party: teen party end of year
FWG: grass skirt, wet kisses, smoke and ash ref and cigs.

Girl plays spin the bottle, ends up getting Frenched by her frenemy, tries to blur that out with her brain.

Good descriptions of stuff. Decent, funny dialogue. But the girl-on-girl kiss is weird because I can’t tell if No Name is in denial of being gay or so straight that being kissed squicked her out, both of which would have been valid with some clarification. Speaking of which, any reference to her having a name would have been a boon. I also feel like paragraphs were out of order in places. There's a lot of buildup to the kiss, but not enough words to have anything after it but a few lines about disgusted drinking. A little less on the actual game would have helped; that could have been done in more snippet form, maybe?

6/10

#####

Phobia - The Last Tea Party

Party: tea party
FWG: grass necklaces, water “tea”, setting things on fire.

Girls try to have a tea party, but one is upset because mom make a cut and run, and then they make up cause friends.

Pickyass first of all? They’re six graders, which makes them eleven minimally. Generally most girls in the US after the age of five don’t have tea parties with stuffies and talk with faux titles about Disney princesses, unless they’re socialy stunted, forcing it, or weird. If you wanted me to realize that they were forcing the party to ignore an issue, you should have made more mentions of the awkwardness of girls this age pulling through a tea party, and cleared up early on that they were this age. I got to the end and went "wait, they're preteens?" There's also a lot of mistakes that could have been cleaned up with some proofreading. The Everybody Laughs ending also feels out of nowhere. I feel like pacing and clarity was the death of this one; realizing they're preteens adds a layer that could have been so much more poignant if that had been explained or shown much earlier.

5/10

#####

Mercedes - Son of Man
DQ - Late

In jokes do not a story make.

#####


I'll do two line-by lines if you want more of my bitching about your writing.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Been sitting around all week mewling about it--gently caress it, I'm in.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Friend of Mine
(996)

http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?...=Friend+of+Mine

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Dec 4, 2014 around 08:27

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


IN this week, and I'm offering a cross stitch pattern.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Mango Magic
(1370)

http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?...tle=Mango+Magic

(elephants, cross stitch pattern, a completely foreign language)

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Dec 4, 2014 around 08:27

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


And once again I find I've taken forever. IN.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Distinct Changes
(1175)

http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?...istinct+Changes

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Dec 4, 2014 around 08:28

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


IN after two weeks of not being able to participate.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Sundown Towns
(1248)

http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?...e=Sundown+Towns

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Dec 4, 2014 around 08:31

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Baby Momma
(Got you for 18 years)

Maybe this time when that son of a bitch knocks me up, he'll pay his drat child support.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


In like a delicious R&B song.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


A Mean Pinball
(1077)

http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?...=A+Mean+Pinball

Nethilia fucked around with this message at Dec 30, 2014 around 04:45

Adbot
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Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


Mercedes posted:

BITCH YOU TRIPPIN


Your blackness has gone on far too long Nethilia. There can only be one token black writer on these forums, and bitch, you gots to go!

Time for a brawl. We'll finally see who's the blackest!

Oh, so it's like that, after all our people have been through.



You talk big words, motherfucker, but can you write them? Survey says no. You're gonna need Black Jesus to save what's left of your scrawny rear end by the time I'm done with you.

Let the Black on Black Brawl commence.

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