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Yeah, I'm going to have to shrivel out this week. If I have tomorrow I'll try to get it in. No excuses. Judgement for the Jitsu/Sledgehammer brawl's happening tomorrow though no matter what. (USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST)
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Jan 5, 2015 05:01
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| # ¿ May 22, 2025 15:15 |
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 Jitzu. Sledge. Judgement time.Alright. This has been a long time coming so let's not waste any time. Your stories hit the requirements well enough, no problems there. I was planning on doing line-by-lines but you two waited long enough. So what I'm going to do is go through and give my general thoughts, and if you want more detailed thoughts just give me a shout. I won't be focusing on grammar here but, seriously, you two need to proofread your stories before you send them in. I know I'm not the shining example of correct grammar but even I caught some serious errors in both your stories. Just thinking about the abundance of passive voice is putting me to sleep. Or just plain falling asleep. Wait, it's 3 AM already? Christ. Jitzu posted:Harris’s New Heights The whole narrative here can be summed up as "Thomas the Tank Engine With Balloons and Boats, also Global Warming." I really do not understand why they shoved Harris into a hole of all things though. Didn't his owner say he was going into storage? Oh, it was so Siloh could come over and twirl his metallic mustache. Is this supposed to make the reader feel bad for Harris? You're operating on Cartoon logic, of course, I get that. This is the kind of story that you just have to flip the logic switch off and take it as it is. It still sticks out like a sore thumb but I guess it works? Even so, how the heck did Siloh dig Harris out of a hole? Come on, I know I said your story doesn't have to be detailed and I kept referring to a "space-traveling tugboat" but even a seven-year-old is going to call bullshit on this. I will say that I liked the ending. Kind of. I was really dreading how Harris was going to save the day but I did not expect you to anthropomorphize the sun and trees. That was clever in a children's book sort of way. It comes out of nowhere though. Had you foreshadowed this, it would not feel like such a cop-out. As it stands, you wrote a passable story. It flows well. You never linger on any unnecessary details and you're close to a prompt bullseye. Harris and the islander's happy ending could have been better justified, but it's serviceable. Harris's character development is pretty nonexistent, and Siloh only exists as an antagonist because you shoehorned in the Global Warming angle. I can let that slide though, because you do pull through with some decent wordplay and a cute if sappy ending. (I would not use "passengers" to refer to the people riding a hot air balloon though.) Sledge posted:Glass Houses Of course, my biggest problem with this story is that it's... a bit short-sighted? That might not be the right term. You have all of the elements at play here, all of the pieces to solve the puzzle you set up and you foreshadow. But everything's bare bones. There's barely any room to get cozy. I know that this is supposed to be a silly premise but it holds very little weight. You didn't give a lot of time to get to know the characters here, especially Wade and why Zack deserves to 'get back' at him. I did not understand Wade's comeuppance either. I got that the road was covered in ice but I could not connect the dots. See, I completely forgot about Zack's water jets on my first readthrough? I only remembered that when they were mentioned near towards the end of the story and it left me scratching my head. It's an error in clarity. The reader shouldn't have to look back and read everything again to understand the big moment of your story. Had you gone out of your way to explain Zack more, give the reader more of a picture of his working parts instead of just assuming the reader will just 'get it', things would have worked out much better. Now, though, the latter half only serves to tie a little bow to your present (to me, of course) without actually letting the reader get a better glimpse at what's under the wrapping paper. Wait, that doesn't make any sense. Well whatever, you get what I mean. This story feels rushed, period. It could have been told in a hundred words rather than six-hundred. It's like it is in a race to the finish, just hitting all the required spots along the way. It really shows that you didn't give yourself enough time, and your story suffers for that. This is, again, coming from me. You're good at dialogue though. You also made me laugh. Yes that's a good thing. Results Congratulations, you didn't gently caress this up. I cannot tell you how happy this makes me. I'll admit, I already knew the types of stories you two were going to submit long before the deadline. Jitzu submitted a story that tried to fit the tone of an ol' kiddy book and Sledge submitted something out there and with a bit more jazz. Your stories are serviceable. Both are watered down for different reasons and it really held both stories back. To me, this decision comes down to which story left a better impression on me. Which spoke to me more? Do I just pick the fall and rise of a balloon or do I pick the zamboni who is afraid of ice? It's a tough call. Haha nah actually that's a lie. Sledgehammer, your story was okay but it appears your Zamboni has been shipped to the scrapyard. What's his name? Zach. Zach's scrapped. He's probably being melded into a tin can right now. Sorry bro. WINNER: JITZU_THE_MONK
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Jan 11, 2015 09:34
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PROOOOOOOMPT
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Jan 20, 2015 02:48
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Spaceships. Sure. Why not. In.
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Jan 20, 2015 03:58
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Benny the Snake posted:Dude, don't be his pitty brawl OH WOW BENNY THIS IS A NICE GLASS HOUSE YOU HAVE. (Thank you for ponying up the money to get me back on SA Benny.) (Also I'm giving out line-for-lines to three people. I don't really care what week. Just give me a shout.)
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Jan 20, 2015 16:49
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Doctor Idle posted:I feel like my story was kind of crap and I got busy and really rushed towards the end. I'll take it I like you. You'll do better next time, I'm sure.
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Jan 20, 2015 16:50
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Sure. I'll go in. Why not? Feel free to flashrule me too. Also  . I didn't forget this time.(USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST)
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Feb 5, 2015 18:10
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hey guys I'm back from my four month vacation in Venezuela. *drops blood-caked luggage on this week's prompt* (I'll take a flash rule too.) Phobia fucked around with this message at 05:11 on Jun 4, 2015 |
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Jun 4, 2015 04:40
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Sitting Here posted:
Sure why not.
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Jun 13, 2015 05:33
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 , my submission will be about me finding a story this week.
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Jun 18, 2015 00:07
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My apologies but there's no way I'm making the deadline. I'll submit as soon as I can. I have this intense feeling of deja vu right now and it is making me want to gag.
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Jun 22, 2015 07:38
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Souls 767 words Dr. Vance Klimmer found his soul on his way to the hospital. He was in his Corvette(the red one, as opposed to his blue Corvette), doing fifty-five in a forty mile an hour zone. So saying that he found his soul is an overstatement. He just drove into it. Klimmer could remember the moment it happened too, as the collision made his body convulse so hard that he nearly swerved into oncoming traffic. He had been soulless up until that point, a thirty-four year old husk of a man, so the shock of suddenly having a soul tore at his very being. Understandable, really. Klimmer's first reaction was to pull his car over, open and vomit. This is a natural reaction for a souless cretin like Klimmer; when reunited with one's soul, the sudden burst of emotion can cause a sudden fit of nausea. Klimmer sobbed into his hands, too. He sat there and cried. He didn't even understand why he was crying, but the tears kept coming and he could not control himself. Again, this is natural. Once the tears dried up, Klimmer sat there with his eyes closed considered whether it would be smart to go into work. As Klimmer did not believe in the 'soul', he could not possibly understand the gravity of his situation. He could only feel it in the pit of his stomach and the back of his brain. Eventually Klimmer controlled himself. He chalked it all up to shock from nearly driving into oncoming traffic. He could have been killed, after all. Breathing a deep sigh, Klimmer closed the door, turned his Corvette back on and pulled away. He arrived at the hospital twenty minutes late, but it mattered very little. Everything that had happened on his drive, even his being late, was negligible. Senority, skill and nepotism meant that Klimmer answered only to the Chief of Surgery. In short, that meant Klimmer called the shots, having his nurses and assistants handle the checkups with patients and tasks that he deemed unimportant. He had a surgery in the afternoon, a simple elective for a former governor scheduled ahead of time. It would only take a few hours, after which he planned to have dinner with his fiancee. The doctor carried on with his duties that day, as if nothing had happened. But it was not as simple as that. True, Klimmer was a man of science, a godless surgeon. Having a soul matters little when one is blind, but that did not stop the lump in his throat from throbbing. The heart monitors echoed from all around his section of the ward, but when the mechanical of one machine quickened or went dead the mechanical sounds pierced his ears. Throughout the day he grew increasing aware of his surroundings, at the spotless halls and the smell of antiseptic. Even the sight of blood, slight but present, gave him a tense feeling. He grew so accustomed to it all, both through university and experience, but for some reason it all felt cold. Lifeless. It did not unsettle him. He barely noticed these feelings, pushing them aside and ignoring them. But it perturbed him enough that, when he walked past the emergency room and saw a mother in tears, he stopped in his tracks. The Hispanic woman was not crying at that moment, but the smear of eyeliner across her cheeks was unmistakable. She sat in the corner of the room, hands clenching something in her lap. Shirt jostled, lips quivering, frizzed hair lapping over her shoulders. She looked like a wreck, and from the way her eyes darted from the clock to the hallway and back, he wasn't far off. Then he saw that moment, Klimmer felt pity. He scanned the other people in the waiting room; crying; wounded; desperate. His pity turned sour. A melancholic wave that washed over his spine and made him shiver. Just a shiver, but little else. But the image of the woman with a bunny in her lap lingered. So much so that, after his surgery, he walked over to the Children's ward and found a pediatrician he was familiar with. He asked about the woman he had seen, about what exactly had happened. A traffic accident. He returned to his high-rise apartment, alone. The dinner was cancelled. Klimmer was not feeling exactly hungry, and he did not want to see his fiancee. Instead he spent the night staring out of his window, at the skyrises and hustle and bustle. He stared for a very long time just watching the cars drive into the distance.
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Jun 22, 2015 23:32
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Meeple posted:Probably a good thing you missed the deadline as this was almost poo poo enough to deserve a DM.
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Jun 25, 2015 15:15
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Yeah I'm in, why not?
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Sep 24, 2015 04:59
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I'm home for the holidays. And I know this was last week but I'm just gonna add this headline to the pile: Florida Man Hellbent on Catching, Eating Shark That Bit Him Also a shocking amount of these florida stories seem to occur during oral sex. This is information you did not need to know.
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Dec 23, 2015 22:26
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| # ¿ May 22, 2025 15:15 |
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Honest? I might not be able to finish this before the deadline. I'll still submit though. Leeway is appreciated but this isn't my first rodeo, I'll take what I can get.
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Dec 28, 2015 05:11
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