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Thread: The November 2007 Writing Contest!

  1. #1
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    Default The November 2007 Writing Contest!

    The November 2007 Writing Contest

    Judged by Phoenixsong and Saffire Persian

    Missed out on our last writing contest? Loved the last contest and can't wait for more? Never fear, the November Writing Contest is here!

    Entries for this month must include a mysterious box/package. All entries (one per person) must be shorter than 2500 words and be posted in this topic by 23:59:59 GMT 30th November, 2007. Everyone is welcome to enter.

    That's it from me; good luck!
    mistysakura
    2007 Golden Pens: Co-winner of Best Poem (Rain Eternal) and Best Reviewer
    2007 Silver Pencils: Winner of Best Poem (Death Sonnet -- Untitled)
    2004 Silver Pencils: Winner of Nicest Fanficcer & Least Likely Couple (with PancaKe)
    Former 3-time winner of Most Dedicated Reader at the Fanfiction Forums
    Also Keeper of the 'A'ctivator Unown

    Brimstone Diamonds. The Artist. Tightrope. Solitude. Autopsy.
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    Default Re: The November 2007 Writing Contest!

    I can barely believe I'm the first one to post an entry!

    It's good to know I can still write stand-alone short stories and, even though I had to crop it down to reach the limit, I think the result still makes sense. (If anyone is interested, I can show you the director's cut later.

    I've resisted the temptation to ask someone to proof-read it because it wouldn't be fair. So please excuse me if I chose some words or phrases poorly, and let me know what the right way to say those things is. I'll appreciate any chance I can get to improve my English.

    Word count: 2494 including title and BBCode tags.


    ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸, ø¤º°`°º¤ø ,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø

    Stay with me

    It was early evening. A gentle breeze caressed the delta, and the presence of boats became scarcer as most of the families who had come to spend a Sunday afternoon by the river began their journey back to their homes. Some tourists stayed for dinner, or to buy pretty yet useless items at any of the many gift shops. Amelia and Laura were among them.

    The two sisters were there mainly because they hadn't had fun together in months, and Amelia had thought it would be a good idea to take a boat to a random island and spend some time in contact with nature. Laura wasn't that keen on watching water flow and leaves dance in the wind to a choir of birdsong, but she accepted as long as they agreed to visit the handcrafts stores on their way back. Since Amelia didn't care for windowshopping, they both thought it was fair. In any case, they'd be able to spend some time together and take a break from their routines.

    It had been fun. They'd talked a lot and caught up with each other's lives, noticing they'd both missed out on a lot while running after their daily occupations. But now that they were checking out the shops and Laura focused most of her attention on catching every detail of all the objects on display, there wasn't much room for conversation. Amelia decided it would be best if she could find something to look at herself, even if -she knew- taking a closer look at such skillfully crafted ornaments would make her feel tempted to buy them, and then they'd end up collecting dust on top of some piece of furniture.

    She tried to look for something that had some kind of use; that way she wouldn't feel so guilty if she bought it. She found a shelf stocked with boxes with delicate carvings, made of different woods and metals. One of them immediately caught her attention: it was shaped like an old chest, made from some reddish-brown wood -she wished she knew more about wood names-, decorated with a pattern of arabesques and small flowers, and a golden lock. Charmed by its beauty, Amelia held the box in her hands and opened it.

    "Do you like it?," asked a male voice in front of her.

    She was startled. She didn't recall anyone being there. When she looked up, the view she encountered shocked her even more. She wasn't in the shop anymore. She was in a shop, but this one was smaller, with yellow walls and a smell of fresh wood and salt. She was standing in front of a desk, and an old man with a worn leather vest and a white shirt was looking at her from the other side.

    "It's mahogany," he said. "Brought from the New World. Normally it would cost a fortune, but since this one has a defect I'll give it to you for 4 buckles."

    Her mind was full of questions: where was she? What had just happened? Who was that man? What did he mean by 'New World'? How could buckles be used as a currency? Oddly enough, the first question to reach her mouth was: "a defect?"

    "Two defects, actually," the man replied. "If you look at the back, you will notice that the carver slipped at one point and made a scratch on the wood. You would have noticed it sooner or later. That, and the key got lost on the journey here, so you won't be able to lock it."

    She turned the box around and noticed the scratch. "It's still beautiful," she thought. Her own thoughts surprised her. How could she be thinking about a box when the whole world seemed to have changed around her? Still, things didn't feel as wrong as they should have. This place felt comfortable... even familiar. So did the word 'buckles', now that she thought about it. Buckles weren't just clasps for fastening things together. They were also something else...

    She reached for her pocket and gasped when her hand met soft cloth instead of the expected denim. She took a look at herself for the first time since the strange transition. She was wearing a long, loose, cream-colored dress. And judging by the way her feet felt, she also wore pointed leather shoes. She raised a foot to verify this, and noticed the shoe was dark brown. She also noticed an orange woolen purse hanging from her shoulder.

    "Is everything alright?," the man asked.

    How could she answer? "I'd better get out of here," she thought. "There's something wrong with this place. Maybe if I get out everything will be alright."

    She dug inside her purse and took out four heavy coins, then left them on the desk, grabbed the box and ran.

    The view outside the shop was even more disconcerting. Not only were there no signs of Laura, the previous shop or even the river, but it was day here, and she found herself staring at a busy market square, crowded with people in old-fashioned clothes, some even with horses, and beyond the chatter she could hear the distant roar of the sea. She was scared out of her mind, until she came up with a possible explanation: this was a dream. An extremely vivid one, but a dream nonetheless. That would explain both the sudden change of scenery and the strange familiarity she'd been feeling all the time. She relaxed, and decided to play along. After all, there was no danger in dreaming.

    She walked past the market - she didn't feel like buying anything and, dream or not, she didn't enjoy looking at things that were up for sale if she wasn't planning to buy them - and finally met the sea. It was a beautiful shade of turquoise, except near the shore where it suddenly became green. The sound of the waves was soothing. She went down to the beach, took off her shoes and began to walk.

    She'd only been walking for a minute or two when someone called out to her; or, rather, he called out to someone named Emily, but his voice was aimed in her direction and she'd turned to look before she realized that was not her name. What she saw was a young man, about her age, with short, curly brown hair, black trousers and a loose and somewhat wrinkled white shirt. He ran to her side and hugged her. For some reason, that didn't disturb her. His embrace felt warm and full of love, and she found herself returning it. She had a feeling that she knew this man well, and that she loved him, as odd at that sounded. She also knew his name.

    "Cecil," she whispered.
    "Sorry I made you wait, I must admit I thought you'd take longer," he said. "But that's no reason for you to leave without me."
    "I'm sorry," she replied. She didn't know what she was sorry about, but she was. It felt wrong to hurt Cecil in any way, even if she wasn't supposed to know him. Or was she?
    "It's alright," he told her. "Did you find anything you liked?"

    She showed him the box, held closed in the hand that wasn't holding her shoes, and he smiled. Then he thought for a moment, and frowned.

    "How much did that cost?," he asked.
    "Four buckles."
    "Really? It looks more expensive than that."
    "It has a scratch... and no key," she explained.
    His mouth turned into a half-smile. "I wish I could get you a better one."
    "There's no need," she assured. "I like it as it is."

    He hugged her again, slowly this time. Then he gently caressed her neck and kissed her.

    "You're too good for me, Emily," he said. "I'll do my best to live up to you. Just promise you'll stay with me until I make it."

    Amelia's mind -or Emily's- had given up trying to make sense out of things, and let her feelings take the lead.

    "I will always stay with you," she promised.

    As they walked home, Emily remembered that Cecil was a reporter for the local newspaper. He specialized in weird and unusual events - she wondered what he'd think if she told him what had happened that day, but before she could tell it she'd have to understand it herself. He was a kind and honest man, and a loving husband. His main fault was that he seemed unable to accept himself and his life the way they were. The newspaper paid him enough to have a roof over their heads, a comfortable bed and three decent meals a day, but they lived without luxuries and it tore him whenever he couldn't afford something his wife liked; especially since she was so understanding and rarely asked for anything. Looking at things from both Emily's and Amelia's perspectives, she'd much rather be with him than with a wealthy man who treated her like a servant or an object. But how could she make that get through to him? All she could do was support him, and stay with him.

    The house was small, but homey. Emily glanced at every corner, only to realize she felt like she'd been living there for the last two years. And maybe she had, she thought. Perhaps she wasn't dreaming after all, and it was the other life that was the confusing and wacky dream. Houses piled up on top of each other? Things that let you talk to people on the other side of the world as if they were standing next to her? Machines that could solve complex mathematical problems in a split-second but couldn't tell in advance whether they'd be able to solve them or not? Carts that moved on their own? Hard grey streets surrounded by grey constructions extending further than the eye could reach? Working all day to get some money and then having no time to spend it? Having to travel a long way just to see some trees and hear the birds sing? That sounded a lot more like a dream... or perhaps a nightmare.

    Under this new view, everything seemed to make sense. Emily went with it and her life was mostly normal, even if memories of her strange dream popped up and affected her life every now and then. She told Cecil about it one day, and he said she should write a book. She thought she might do it someday.

    Time went by, and as the couple found out more about each other, including some unusual things they learned to laugh at, they grew closer together. Emily even got to write down some of her dreams and ideas, although she never dared to publish them. Everything went well for a while, until one day when Cecil brought news which he thought would please Emily, but instead terrified her. A large gold mine had been found in a strange land across the sea, and people were rushing from all corners of the world to grab their part. One of Cecil's friends was going, and as they needed more crew members to make the journey, he'd asked Cecil to join them.

    "I hope you said no," Emily told him, without much hope.
    "Why not? It's the opportunity of our lifetime! Imagine what we'd do with all that money! We'd get a bigger house, and we could hire a servant to keep it clean so you'd have more free time. And you'd have new dresses and even jewels!"
    "I don't want jewels!," Emily snapped. "I want to be with you! How will I spend all that time without you? And how can I even be sure you'll return?! It's a dangerous journey and it'll be even more dangerous once you get there. What will I do if you die?"

    Cecil looked at her, awestruck. He didn't know what to say.

    "Please stay with me," Emily begged him. "You once made me promise I'd stay with you. I want you to do the same. Stay with me."

    She was crying, and her tears made him understand the truth that had been eluding him all that time. She really didn't want money. She wanted him. And he wanted her too. Now that he'd seen her strength and her resolve, he wanted her more than ever.

    That night, they loved each other with passion. A few days later, Cecil wrote an article about a ship that had lost its course and got stuck in a mountain of dry ice: a strange material of whose existence he'd only known before thanks to Emily's stories. He was paid well for it, and bought his wife a gift with the money he got: a star-shaped, gold-plated pendant. He would have liked to buy one made of pure gold, but now he knew that didn't really matter.

    Emily loved the gift, and Cecil loved the way it looked on her. The only problem was that it clouded her other pendant: a small flower made of quartz which she'd bought at a fair years earlier.

    "I think I've worn this flower long enough," she decided, and took it off. "I can let it rest for a while."

    She looked for a place to put her old pendant, and found the decorated mahogany box. It brought her a lot of strange memories. "How funny my mind can be," she thought. "I look at this box and start daydreaming." Laughing at herself, she opened the box in order to store the pendant inside. But then she realized the sculpted stone was no longer in her hand. She looked around, trying to find where she had dropped it, and gasped when she saw a large room full of shelves and ornaments of all kinds.

    Laura ran to her sister's side and asked her if she was alright.
    "I... I think I am," Amelia said.
    "You scared me. For a moment you looked like you were about to faint."
    "I did?"

    Amelia didn't understand what was going on. All she knew was that something was definitely wrong.

    "Leave that box," Laura told her. "It has a scratch on the back. All the stuff on this shop is worthless."
    "Please don't be so harsh," intervened the shopkeeper. He was a short, middle-aged man who didn't ring any bells at all. "All these things are made by by hand by our local craftsmen. A box like that one takes months to finish. Besides, the boxes on that shelf are on discount because, as you have noticed, they have some small flaws."
    "Those don't look like discount prices to me," argued Laura. "Come on, let's go somewhere else."

    Amelia was lost in thought for a moment, until she reached a decision.

    "Maybe later," she told her sister.

    She opened the box again, then closed it, and looked for another container to store the quartz flower.

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  3. #3
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    Default Re: The November 2007 Writing Contest!

    To herald this great day- yes! This day that the newest Mario game is out- this game? Mario Galaxy!!! So, to worship, to praise this man made wonder...I bring you a contest entry dedicated to this fandom- nay, a fanfiction! Yes this is but chapter one...and I leave you with it.

    Word Count: 2, 497

    ----------- ---------------- ----

    It starts with a box




    It was a frosty winter morning in HolliJolli Village, and there were more tourists then ever, and more tourists meant more money for Ebenezer Toadge. He was in charge of the Golly Jolly Gifts, and made a fair share of profit when winter ski season started (apparently, racing avalanches was how those warm weather folk got their kicks). However, this morning, he felt particularly tired and cold, and was day dreaming about the warm sands of Isle Delfino. So, with his head on his hand, and his elbow on the front counter, Ebenezer dreamed away…

    He heard the water wash in and out, his eyes closed. He didn’t mind not seeing the ocean, just taking a nap in that hot sun was enough for him. He placed his sunglasses on his pale bearded face, after that he planed to not move until the cows came home. Some sort of sea bird over head squawked loudly. Ebenezer’s brow crinkled- it was almost as though the bird was squawking his name.

    “Mr.Toadge,” The bird squawked, getting closer. He tried to shoo the bird away, but it just let out a cry in protest and came right back. Well, that was it. Ebenezer stood up and-


    Thud! The adult Toad, with his bright red mushroom self, and spots a jolly green, jerked awake. His head slipped off his head, falling hard on the counter. A small, excited looking, Toad was jumping up and down, trying to get his attention.

    “What now?” Mr.Toadge sighed, rubbing his sleeping-ocean-longing eyes. Must he be bothered at every second of the day?

    “Mr.Toadge,” The little Toad said again, rushing away, “You have to come see this- we don’t know what to do!” His voice got squeaker and squeaker as he moved farther back into the shop. He sighed again, taking a glance at the glass in the front. The little sign on the door read Close to the outside world, it would soon be turned to Open in three minutes. Another little Toad was bouncing near by, checking his watch constantly; waiting to do his one and only job- flipping the sign.

    Ebenezer moved from the Counter into the back room, where all the wrapping and whatnot took place (all the money gathering was Mr.Toadge’s favourite part). He entered, only to find all his employees gathered around the Orders table.

    “Now see here,” He started gruffly, “We’re opening up soon, what is this golly-wonking about? Let me see this letter!” And with that, he split the crowd of Toads moodily, snatching the mailing order out of one of the employee’s hand. He read it quickly.

    Dear one who mails,
    I have much requirement of one to having deliverment to the Beanbean Kingdom, by the time before the day is having night by dark spooky Café, having much famousness and the name of Joe’s Javabean.

    “Come on,” He said dryly, eyeing the letter with distaste, “you all know we don’t deliver out of Mushroom Kingdom.” Even as he was saying this, a Toad employee pulled on Ebenezer’s suit.

    “B-but, boss,” The tinniest toad said, “They p-pre-paid.”

    “Prepaid?” There was never a more beautiful phrase spoken, in Ebenezer’s opinion, and yet he hesitated; to go to Beanbean Kingdom, one had to cross through that awful Stardust Kingdom, the Kingdom that was no friend to a Toad.

    A tiny purple mushroom, timid and wide eyed pulled out a heavy looking bag from under the table they were all gathered around. Ebenezer’s heart moved a little faster then normal as he watched the Toad, the stamp licker perhaps, place the bag down.

    “What’s this?” He said aghast. This was enough coins-oh, he wasn’t cheep, nor was his store, but this was hardly enough to take the risk himself. He could always send one of the Toad’s out, but there was a good chance that none of them would be coming back…

    Ebenezer tugged on the mouth of the bag lightly, his eyes grew wide at what he saw. He stumbled back, knocking over his employees.

    Coins!

    At least 530 Beanbean Kingdom coins were in this sack….he could buy a condo on the Delfino, or maybe even a small island, and never have to see HolliJolli village again-never have to see snow again!

    With glee, he cried, “Where is this marvellous order?!”

    None of the Toads seemed to want to move this time. They looked at each other and made tiny noises of timidity, like school boys who forgot their homework, after breaking into the Dean’s car.

    “Come now,” He said, trying to sound displeased, but he really couldn’t, “Is there no order?” Ebenezer could dance! Money and scott free! He was as giddy as a jay bird that was-

    “N-no,” The purple Toad squeaked, “There is one, its just…”

    “What?” He puzzled sharply, as the Toads scrambled, proceeding to produce a present that was beautifully wrapped in yellow paper, and topped with a bright red bow. He was as giddy as a jay bird that was shot in the butt. It was against company rules to send already wrapped things out (this, of course, made sending unmentionables a very uncomfortable task); it could be an explosive device for all he knew! He felt backed into a moral corner, what was he to do?

    Ding, Ding

    “I’ll deal with this when I get back,” He said bitterly, turning from them with the present clenched in his hand, and walking back into the front room. With all the excitement, he had totally forgotten about his shop opening.

    As soon as he saw his first customer, however, every bitter thought was purged from his thought. He smiled down at Mario (he was on a crate behind his desk), in his overalls, and red cap. Bless his spot, what perfect timing!

    "Mario!” Ebenezer exclaimed, “My, how can I help you today?” He asked, placing the gift in plan view, a smile on his face, and a carefully frown on his brow.

    The round plumber hero rubbed his moustache, “Well, I need a gift-a for Princess Peach, what do you-a have today, Mr. Toadgde?” Mario, being a sweet thing, thought it was proper to get Peach, as tomorrow was a very important day. The day she went to Court to prove to Bowser that they weren’t married.

    “I have a package deal,” Mr. Toadgde beamed, though looked slightly worried, which perked the curiosity in Mario greatly, “A free lesson on the Ski Slops, three free meals at the Ho-Ho Hotel, plus a free room- Ohoho!” He gave Mario a wink, slowly nudging the gift towards the edge of the desk.

    “Momma Mia!” Mario exclaimed, jumping up with joy, “I’ll-a take it, how much?”

    The trap went snap! Ebenezer made a very loud sigh, “For you it’s free, but-Oh, Mario, I’m troubled with something only you can do!” Mario looked generally interested, which made old Ebenezer terribly happy.

    “Someone sent a package, with no return address, and they want it sent to the Beanbean Kingdom…”

    “?”

    “I’ve never failed to delivered something,” He sighed heavily, “Mario, please, help me!” Ebenezer begged, practically in tears.

    “No problaim-o!” Mario replied, without delay, and as Ebenezer handed the gift to him, the tiny message that came with the gift, and the keys to the Delivery Snow Mobile, he had no idea what he was getting into, but Ebenezer could have cared less…after all, he had coins to count.

    The old Toad watched Mario leave, once he was out of sight, he flipped the Open sign to Close.

    Mario walked out back, to where Ebenezer said that they kept the snow mobiles. Carefully trying each one of them until he found one that had its engine turn when he twisted the key. Thrilled, he placed the fancy envelope that contained Peach’s wonderful gift in his back pocket and leapt onto the seat of the sleek machine.

    Mario whizzed by tourists, tress, and flew over snow piles. Soon, he was in the outskirts of HolliJolli. At this rate, he assumed happily, he’d be back before dinner, and the start of the party— then disaster struck.

    Mario had hit something hard, it sent him flying in the air like an acrobatic spider monkey, and into the nearest snow bank with a plunk, the gift landing on top of it, the snow mobile skidding away. He kicked his legs in a furious windmill, trying to pull his front out of the heavy snow, with no avail.

    He couldn’t see what was going on, but by the sounds of it, something small was crying. Overhead, there were two Boo, one with wild boo-ish hair (erm, in Boo terms) and spectacles; the other one was a tiny Boo who was hiding its face, blushing harder then any Boo should ever.

    “Is this the punk, babe?” The wild looking Boo snarled in question. (Clearly a male if Boo are to have genders) He pushed his glasses up on his face so they’d stay on as he floated down towards Mario’s near.

    “Woah, this fella’s a chucker-!“ He spotted the fancy smancy envelope, “Blehehehehe!” He stole it shamelessly, opening it up. The little Boo (who was most likely a girl if Boos have genders) looked over his meteorically shoulders, and gave a little squeal of delight.

    “I-is it Okay to take them?” She asked, blushing so hard that her little boo body was turning pink.

    “Sure it is!” He patted her fondly with his nub hand, “After all, he did run you over.”

    The little boo nodded rapidly, an idotic grin spreading over her blushing face.

    “Good,” The boy Boo announced, floating away, “Let’s blow this joint!”

    “Wait,” She cried, “Give me a piggyback ride!” She jumped on to his back before her got to far, laying her face down on him without waiting for a reply. Her little Boo tail wagged as they floated to the village of HolliJolli.

    Mario was still stuck, but his raging hot fury helped him out of the chunk of condense snow, and get out. Stupid Boos! He turned to go after them, when he remembered the mysterious gift. Mario quickly reasoned that he could always buy Peach something equally amazing in Beanbean Kingdom, or when he got back.

    So, with a weary heart, he picked up the battered present, its red bow drooping, dripping slightly.

    “Momma Mia!” Mario exclaimed in horror as he noticed the snow mobile. It was smashed, and smoking by a nearby Evergreen. He hit his face in that “Do’h” kind of way, and groaned. Hadn’t this day started out perfectly? Now all he needed was Bowser to show up… Well, he thought, he might as well move the snow mobile out of the way.

    He pushed, not hard, but somehow managed to knock the small evergreen out of the way! Couldn’t it be- No…

    But it was! A warp pine that was rusted and hidden by the tree (now melty) snow, and dry brittle bramble. It looked as though it had been long forgotten.

    He looked about, well, why not? Never look a gift horse in the mouth, as he always said. He clasped the gift to him, and held his breath. Mario slipped down the warp pipe.

    Joe’s JavaBeans, the newly open Coffee shop, was a simple and in some respects, humble shop, as though to say to the world: “Look, taste is better then ‘tude!” In reality, it was because Joe has a terrible tendency to be robbed, so he moved to a less popular location, in the heart of the worst town in Beanbean Kingdom. While this logic may seem faulty, Joe claims that he has never been robbed once since he moved here (however, Joe also had a terrible tendency to dose off during the day). But, today, Joe was slightly regretting moving here…

    The Coffee Pot headed man watched wearily as a Bean small in stature with a red cloak-thing as garments, and a very strange headgear as a hat, toying with a dangerous looking machine in the centre of the cafe . With him, a girl no older then twelve snoozed against the wicked creation. The Bean’s name was Fawful, and he had helped Joe to get started here by getting him beans to make coffee, he could hardly say no when Fawful asked to use his place to build whatever this was.

    “Rurururur-EyhehehahahahaHA!” Fawful laughed, a grin as demented as a grin can be across his green face, he didn’t even seem to notice that his spirally goggles were smudged with grease. He danced around with a wrench in his hands, “I have Finality! With much sooness, the great witch who is of Cackaletta will be having regaining of body so Bean!”

    Fawful looked up, though he couldn’t see it, but he knew what was in the glass case part of his head gear, the dormant soul of his beloved mistress, Cackaletta. He felt love and devotion fill his tiny bean self as he flicked the switches to his might machine. Soon, so soon, his mistress would be alive and full of wellness!

    The door was knocked upon loudly, interrupting Fawful inner joy. But, before he could say “Have opening the door”, the little sleeping girl was already up, throwing open the door with strange zeal.

    Fawful went back to what he was doing, yes, if just one more flip of the switch, he would have his mistress back. Yes! He was so clever! Even though he had tried this once before and it blew up in his face, he would not fail again. This time, he calculated, and calculated until he was dead sure that he had the right amount of beans to power his machine. As Fawful went to hit the switch, he couldn’t help by think that he had forgotten something. Something of importance.

    “Fawful-lafull,” The girl cried, “Have wait!” In her hands was the open box, though damp and battered, its contents was intact: a single bean. Fawful turned to look as he moved the switch up, seeing in horror as he realized what he had forgotten. In all his excitement, he totally forgot that he had sent himself the last bean! The perfect gift for someone as clever as himself proved to be his down fall!

    The machine gave a violent rumble, masking whatever insult Fawful threw out at Mario. In a matter of seconds, what was a wonderfully built dooms day device was now a explosion, the ripped the café apart. Joe slept through it all.

    Fawful was thrown back, being so close to the machine as he was. And Mario, being a hero, as he was, jumped forward to take advantage of this wanted criminal being out, unfortunately, he jumped too soon. The portly plumber was thwacked by flying debris, and was out cold before he ever hit the floor.

    Needless to say, Peach wasn’t a happy princess when Mario didn’t show up the next day.
    Thank you Saffire Persian. (Complete list coming soon)
    Awards: Contest Ribbons~ Unown Awards ~ Fanfiction Awards
    Quote Originally Posted by DragoKnight View Post

    ...while you sleep.
    ".....Congratulations. You're the KROOOOOOOZE of female weeaboos. -w-;;;" -Blademaster about my Dragonball Z summary of what I know.

  4. #4
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    Default Re: The November 2007 Writing Contest!

    I'm proud to say that I put far more effort into this piece than the August entry. I just found it extremely difficult to fit things in, since there was so much I could have covered. (curse you, 2500-word limit!) No matter, hopefully people will find this one interesting.

    Word count (excluding title and closer): 2500

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    Precious Cargo


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    “‘Wake up, Yank!”

    I woke up with a start by the British airman next to me.

    “Fallin’ asleep again? You need to stay awake, lad, at least until we’ve reached the coast.”

    “Sorry, Commander Blake,” I replied, rubbing my eyes with a gloved hand. “I haven’t exactly been able get much sleep as of late.”

    Blake put a hand on my shoulder. “I know how you feel, lad. The war hasn’t been kind to anyone. Don’t worry about it, you’ll have plenty of time to sleep after we get back to England.” Rising to his feet, he headed back in the direction of the B-17’s cockpit. The sound of the propellers was now keeping me wide awake. There wasn’t much of a view outside the nearest window besides the sky and dark clouds. The sun was setting in the west, giving off bright orange rays. The waters of the English Channel were below us.

    Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Sergeant Jake Hunter, but everyone around here calls me Yank. Y’know, just because I’m the only American soldier in a British unit doesn’t mean I have to be called a stereotypical name, but I guess it can’t be helped.

    This appeared to be an ordinary B-17 flight, but it was far more than that. I and the rest of the bomber crew were on a special mission of dire importance for British Intelligence. The Germans had begun to use a new type of weapon against England - something the Brits were calling the Buzz Bomb. Radar wasn’t enough, especially since these self-propelled weapons could strike without warning, not to mention it could outpace the aircraft we had at our disposal. The only thing we had going for us before this mission was that several catapult-like ramps were positioned on the north coast of German-occupied France. However, we didn’t know where exactly they were pointed.

    That’s where we came in.

    We’re what one might call a reconnaissance unit. If we’re lucky, we’re able to fly over enemy installations and photograph them without them ever knowing we were there. Our camera is unusual, to say the least. It looks like a black box with a lens on the front - or bottom, since that’s the direction it’s in most of the time. Then again, there was a good reason why it’s so unusual - it was one of only a few remaining models in existence. The film, naturally, was hard to come by. This sad excuse for a box wasn’t the most advanced or prettiest pieces of equipment, but it was reliable enough for the job. In fact, it could give some of the best black and white photos one could ever imagine.

    We had finished taking photographs of these launch ramps and were heading home. We hoped that British Intelligence could use them to determine the angles and directions of each launcher, giving them the path of travel for incoming bombs. That way, they’d know where to set up defenses against them. We knew for a fact that many were aimed at London, itself, and dozens of these flying bombs had hit already. The sooner we could get these photos to them, the better off they’d be.

    We were alone in the air, without any kind of fighter escort. Everything seemed fine, since the skies were uncharacteristically clear. Then again, we had planned this recon at the same time as a bombing campaign going on in the western part of Germany. We figured the Germans would concentrate their aircraft to try and shoot down the bombers on assignment. Nevertheless, we were on edge. An attack could come at any time. We weren’t loaded with bombs, so our lower weight made for a higher speed than normal. We also had all thirteen antiaircraft guns armed and ready, just in case something did happen.

    Thank God for that.

    “We’ve got company!” One of the pilots yelled. “Multiple contacts at 10 o’clock high!”

    “Damn it all,” the commander growled. “How many are there?”

    “I count three…no, four! They’re using the sun as cover, can’t tell what make they are! They’re coming in quick and they mean business!”

    Blake snorted angrily. “Man the AA turrets! We’re not going to let them shoot us down here!” As the flight crew got into position, he yelled back to the cockpit. “Bring the camera in! We can’t afford it to be damaged by the Krauts’ strafing runs!” He turned back to me. “Yank, make yourself useful and keep that piece of junk safe.”

    “That ‘piece of junk’ is what may help your own save countless lives! And why am I not at one of the guns? You know I’m the best shot we have!”

    “Never you mind, Yank! You may be a good shot, but you’re the only one who knows how to develop the film from that camera. If you get killed, this whole operation will be blown to Hell! Just guard that thing as if your life depended on it!” As much as I hated to admit it, Blake had a point. Disgruntled, I headed to the cockpit to retrieve the camera as it was brought in.

    “Here they come!” One of the gunners called. As the planes came closer, we could instantly tell what we were up against. By their dark gray color scheme and bubble canopies, they had to be Focke-Wulf 190s. These were the deadliest piston-driven fighters Germany had to offer. Each was armed with two 13-millimeter machine guns and two 30-millimeter cannons. With the right pilot at the controls, a 190 could make Swiss cheese out of its target.

    The gunners in the ball turrets let loose, .50 caliber rounds filling the sky in front of us. Three of the fighters evaded, while the last continued coming towards us. This one was different from the rest, as it had red markings on the fuselage and wings. It was most likely the leader of the flight. The sky was suddenly lit up as he opened fire.

    “Get down!” The pilot yelled. We all ducked as cannon fire ripped through the bomber. One whizzed over my head, barely missing.

    “Full speed!” Blake ordered. “We need to get into Allied territory!” Everyone felt a jerk as the bomber accelerated as much as it could, but the Fortress wasn’t built for speed. He turned to the radioman. “Call the mainland! We need fighter support!” I could barely hear the radioman making the call, for our anti-air guns were firing like no tomorrow.

    Outside, the 190s were dancing around the AA fire, diving down towards the sea to avoid it when necessary. Two came around on our left side and belched out cannon rounds. One of the gunners cried out as some of them ripped through his right leg. Despite the blood he was losing, he stayed at his post, attempting to bring down the Kraut who had wounded him.

    “Shoot those sons-of-bitches down!” Blake barked. He noticed me as I was getting up. “Yank, what did I tell you!”

    “Don’t worry about me!” I retorted. “You worry about shooting those planes out of the sky!”

    The onslaught continued, bullets slicing into the far engine on the left wing. It lit on fire as oil began to leak. “Losing oil pressure in engine 1!” The pilot said. “Shutting it down!”

    “Damn it,” Blake muttered under his breath. “Any word from the mainland?”

    “I’m trying my best,” the radioman called. “I’m getting lots of interference. Don’t know if-” He wasn’t able to complete his sentence, as another strafing run filled him with lead. He was dead before he even knew what hit him.

    One of the gunners was immediately taken aback by the radioman’s death. He yelled out a obscene curse as he took aim at a 190 flying past him. He led his target and opened fire. His technique was perfect, as the German flew right into the path of the anti-air rounds. The plane’s fuselage burst into flames as the it spiraled out of control towards the water below.

    There was no time to celebrate, as another 190 swooped in front of us, attacking the cockpit again. “I’ve got bullet holes in my windscreen!” The pilot cried out. “Get those bastards off our nose!”

    “We’re trying!” The wounded gunner responded, firing at the attacking 190 as it flew by. “But they’re coming in too fast!”

    “Try harder!” Blake yelled back.

    The dogfight seemed to continue on for ages. With so much flak hurtling through the air, the 190s were having difficulty getting in another strafing run. One attempted it, but he was shot to pieces for his trouble. Things would have been looking up at that moment, but we were running low on ammunition. Then, the first bit of good news we had all day…

    “England!” The copilot shouted happily. “The coast is up ahead!”

    Unfortunately…

    We heard the cannon fire cut through the cockpit, followed by the 190 screeching past. The pilot screamed as his copilot collapsed, his blood spilling over the gauges and controls. The strafing run having cut through his head and chest. One of the gunners had similar luck, as he was shot in the back while attempting to avoid the attack.

    “I’m losing control!” He was right, as the plane began to list, the nose slowly turning downward. Blake hurried over to the cockpit, getting the copilot’s body out of the way before taking the controls. He pulled back as hard as he could, getting the plane as leveled off as he could.

    It was at that moment that time seemed to freeze for me. Camera still in my tight grasp, I looked around and saw the carnage. Three good soldiers had been killed, and another was close to it thanks to the blood he was losing. I could see him begin to lose consciousness, nearly slumping over the gun he was manning. All of this was going on, and I was being told to do nothing but guard a ridiculous box for a camera?

    I’d be damned if I followed that order.

    Instinct took over reason, as I dropped the camera and took the place of the gunner who had just been killed. It took a few seconds to add more ammunition, but then I was locked and loaded. Blake obviously heard the noise, as he looked back with a mix of shock and rage. “Yank, what the hell are you doing?! You should be guarding that camera!”

    “Screw the camera!” I replied. “What’s more important, our lives or some stupid piece of equipment?! You concentrate on getting us home! I’m doing what I do best!” I turned my attention back to the fight. “Come on, boys, give ‘em hell!” I unloaded, doing what I could to rip the 190s to shreds.

    “These guys just won’t quit,” the gunner in the lower ball turret complained. His voice was muffled because the compartment door leading down to the turret was closed.

    “Down!” I cried. All the gunners ducked as yet another strafing run cut through the aircraft. We gave the attacker a sendoff, and it appeared a few rounds nicked the 190 in the tail rudder. I was planning on hunting for the other plane, when I noticed that the first was swinging around for another pass.

    “Sykes,” I called to the gunner in the upper hall turret, “he’s coming back, 9 o’clock high!” I aimed at the 190 I had pointed out and fired. The fighter peeled away to avoid the incoming rounds, only to fly right into the ball turret’s line of fire. The attack caused the plane to explode in a ball of flame and metal. Its propeller, still spinning, was blown away and continued in the direction the plane was traveling.

    “Got him!” Sykes cheered.

    “Don’t get cocky!” Another gunner called. “There’s still one more!”

    There was one more, alright - the leader. One would assume that this German would retreat after his wing mates were shot down. But apparently, that wasn’t the case with this pilot. It was as if he was being driven to bring our bomber hurtling to the ground at all costs. We felt that he would dog us until either he ran out of ammunition, or we shot him down ourselves.

    He was either very determined, very stubborn, or very stupid.

    How the B-17 was still flying, I still don’t understand. We nearly had to lay flat on the plane’s floor as the 190 pummeled us with another strafing run. Getting back up, I caught a glimpse of the camera. I nearly screamed bloody murder when I saw a gaping hole on one of its sides. There was no time to think about this at that moment.

    “He’s coming around for another pass!” Sykes called. I was about to fire on the 190, but all I got out of the AA gun was a clicking noise. “I‘m out!” I cried.

    “Me, too!” Sykes replied.

    The German began his latest strafing run when the amazing happened-

    He too had run out of ammo.

    That’s when he did the unthinkable. He changed direction and sped past our B-17, leaving us in his dust.

    “What’s going on?” The pilot exclaimed. “Is he ditching?”

    “Can’t be,” Blake replied. “If he was, he’d be heading back to France. You don’t think he could be-”

    “-Oh my god…he’s going to ram us!”

    Our worst fears were realized, as the 190 turned around and came straight at us. Whatever evasive maneuver we made would not matter in our current condition. Was this the end?

    Cannon fire filled the air once again; surprisingly, this barrage came from behind the 190, tearing it apart. As the ‘Sour Kraut,’ as we’d later call him, went down in flames, a pair of P-47 Thunderbolts flew past our bomber. “Sorry we’re late,” one of them called. “We just got back from patrol.”

    Blake breathed a sigh of relief. “We made it, lads. ‘Oy, Yank. Hate to admit it, but you had guts. If not for you, we may not have survived. Remind me to nominate you for a medal when we get back.”

    “Thank you, sir,” I replied, as I inspected the damage to the camera. A cannon round had pierced through the box, in one end and out the other. Was this it? Was this vital mission a failure?

    Wanting to be sure, I covered myself and the box with my jacket, to make it as dark as possible, before opening the lid. Incredibly, the film was still intact.

    It was my turn to breathe a sigh of relief. Our mission was a success, after all. It proved costly, but we knew that the lives we lost this day would not have been in vain. Thanks to their (and our) heroics, countless more lives would be saved.

    One thing was for sure - we’d never use that hunk of junk for a box-camera again.

    Ah well, sometimes sacrifices had to be made…



    Fin
    Computer problems? Contact Serv U 724 and Tune it up, Back it up, Keep it up.

  5. #5
    Elite Trainer
    Elite Trainer

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    Default Re: The November 2007 Writing Contest!

    All right, December's here. Pens down. Your reviewers will be coming along shortly to hand out the results. Stay tuned.
    mistysakura
    2007 Golden Pens: Co-winner of Best Poem (Rain Eternal) and Best Reviewer
    2007 Silver Pencils: Winner of Best Poem (Death Sonnet -- Untitled)
    2004 Silver Pencils: Winner of Nicest Fanficcer & Least Likely Couple (with PancaKe)
    Former 3-time winner of Most Dedicated Reader at the Fanfiction Forums
    Also Keeper of the 'A'ctivator Unown

    Brimstone Diamonds. The Artist. Tightrope. Solitude. Autopsy.
    Glitter (one-shot).
    Listen to Rain Eternal -- a song.

    Random thought: 2+2=5.

  6. #6

    Default Re: The November 2007 Writing Contest!

    Well, I took the time to read your stories tonight, so reviews will be comign along in a few days. Great job, guys! I enjoyed reading them.


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    Metamorphosis
    New Chapter up Nov. 22, 2006

  7. #7
    Elite Trainer
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    Default Re: The November 2007 Writing Contest!

    Argh, sorry guys... stuff happened. Due to unforeseen circumstances, the results of this November 2007 Writing Contest are way too late, so I'll keep small talk to a minimum. Thanks heaps to Saffire Persian, my co-judge (Phoenixsong had to drop out due to said unforeseen circumstances) for getting the results in a lot earlier than I did. Anyway, without further ado:

    Lady Vulpix
    Stay with me


    Saffire Persian's judging


    Plot: (15/20 points)

    Plot? There really wasn't a huge one at all; it seemed to center more on character-centric things--not that that's a bad thing. There seemed to me to be two main plots, but only one really took center stage, and that one was Amelia trying to get Cecile to realize how she felt about him, and that he didn't need to do extravagant things to make her happy--this was opposite form what I expected. I expected it to be about Emily being thrust into this new world, and trying to find a way home while adapting to her environment. That really didn't happen. I don't even think Emily (before she became Amelia) even attempted to really get home; instead, she just slipped into her new consciousness with ease. So, when it came to what I dubbed the 'main plot', I was intrigued to see how things would work out between the characters... but there really wasn't any time to develop that and make use of it, I felt. That was more the fault of the word limit rather than anything of your own. But in any case, when it came to solving that particular plot-line, we had talk of a gold rush, and then Emily crying and coming clean about her feelings to Cecile, tying up that particular plot-line in a solid knot. But there seemed to be hardly any development to get from Point A to Point C at all--and I mean there was no "B" moment to really ease the transition between the first part and the very end. I terribly wish you had been given a bigger limit so you could better develop the plot. As it stands, you take what you have and make it work into a solid piece, and I hope to see more of it, perhaps...?

    -Plot Originality:(7/10 points)

    The first plot-type of thing that came to mind was the whole "girl gets sucked into different century through mystical object". In this case, a box. That part of the plot wasn't really original, and the ending was something I could actually see coming, though that didn't make it at all less enjoyable. Now, the plot between Amelia and Cecile was much better and more intriguing-- I only wish more room had been given to develop, because this story has a butt-load of awesome potential, but is stifled under the word limit.

    One thing I really liked about your turn in plot, though, was how Emily didn't play a girl getting used to her new setting, with her being stuck in this new time period, but instead has Amelia sink into a role of an already existing character with a past. I think that made things a lot more interesting and intriguing on your part, it twisted my first idea quite a bit, and I was genuinely interested to see how things would turn out--like would Emily fight against Amelia's memories and substitute her own? What was the point of the box?...etc.

    My favorite scene would probably have to be the opening paragraphs and the stuff about the 20th century Emily, and the first bit when she's transported (or however it went) back in time, and was confused as to what buckles were (so was I, admittedly) and did her best to adjust before she completely became Amelia.

    Writing Style: (17/20 points)

    Really nice. The writing style was fun, relaxing, and easy to understand. You were never wordy, and were right to the point. I can't emphasize to you enough how refreshing that was. I especially liked your description of the box that played an integral part in the story--it sounded really beautiful and worth all four of those silver buckles that Emily paid for it.

    Spelling and Grammar: (9/10 points)

    On a whole, you did quite wonderfully spelling/grammar-wise, however, there were a couple things that caught my eye during my reading it. The first is on a subject that is very debatable, and can and will be forever until we get some kind of language academy included in the states.

    Still, debatable as it is, I felt your use of 'alright' in many instances was wrongly used. All right, I think, would have been the better alternative. "Alright" is coming into our language, but when I see it in writing, I always get a 'I don't think this is right at all" vibe from it. This instance quoted below is one of the many where I would have definitely changed it to 'alright'.

    "Is everything alright?," the man asked.
    And that brings up another slight problem. This one isn't debatable; it's a fact. It has to do with punctuating dialogue--it's a common problem, and one easy remedied. You punctuate dialogue perfectly when it would normally end with a comma; however, when you need an exclamation point, question mark, or even a dash, you always have a habit of putting a comma after it. That's not needed. You wouldn't do something like this in normal narrative, would you?, ...Looks strange, doesn't it? Only one punctuation mark at a time is probably a nice rule to remember.

    One other thing I didn't understand was more regarding the formatting than anything else, and you can completely ignore it if it seems like nonsense to you. It's really subjective. Anyway, the thing I didn't understand was you grouping the dialogue together in bunches, instead of spacing them out like the rest of the narrative in the story.

    "Cecil," she whispered.
    "Sorry I made you wait, I must admit I thought you'd take longer," he said. "But that's no reason for you to leave without me."
    "I'm sorry," she replied. She didn't know what she was sorry about, but she was. It felt wrong to hurt Cecil in any way, even if she wasn't supposed to know him. Or was she?
    "It's alright," he told her. "Did you find anything you liked?"
    See how you jumble them together? I don't understand why. Was it accidental? Or are you doing this for a reason? If it's for the dialogue to have some sense of immediacy from it being close together... it really didn't work for me. xD I'd personally just double space; it's easier on the eyes and keeps up with the rest of the formatting.


    Characters: (12/15 points)

    Given the word limit, (as I've mentioned thousands of times before all ready) you really were not given much of a chance to really develop the characters like they probably should have been.Under those circumstances, however, I think you did a solid job. ...Although I would have liked to see more of Emily in the 20th century world a little bit more before she went back in tim--just to see how similar her personality was to the Amelia Emily and see if the fact that Emily was Amelia was really relevant. With that aside, I really enjoyed the personalities you gave Amelia and Cecil. They seemed like a really loving couple. Cecil would do anything for Amelia, and wishes he could do more, while, in contrast, Amelia is just happy being with Cecil. Though... so much for staying with him, the poor sod.

    -Settings: (13/15 points)

    I dunno if buckles were ever real currency, but whatever. I can definitely see the effort you put in in trying to differentiate between the two time periods in this story. I noticed the difference as soon as the guy said "buckle". Were Emily and Amelia speaking to one another at the same time, I would have definitely noticed the difference between the two's normal speaking patterns--it was a nice touch. More perhaps could be done to get across when exactly the time period Amelia is in takes place earlier in the story, before having the scene with the Gold Rush near the end of the story to prod us in the right direction.

    Overall Appreciation: (8/10 points)

    I liked this story a lot. I could see the potential in this story and would really like to read it when it's not restricted to a ridiculous word count (though it made judging this much easier with that limit *cough*). With a good two thousand or more words, I bet this would have been even better. I would have liked to know Cecil's character more--we only got a couple of short scenes with him, as well as more Emily to make the experience when she comes back more potent to her before she runs off. Likewise, Amelia's steady devotion could have been further delved into, so it made the separation, and the theme of "I will always be with you" more potent.

    I would also like to explore the mysteries the box held as well, and the special properties, if any, that it has in greater detail. The whole idea for the plot itself was something that always keep me wondering and questioning. I guessed the ending, but I didn't know how we were going to get there. Again, your writing style was nice and enjoyable to read, and I know I would re-read this in a heartbeat if you ever decided to revise this in the future. Boss job!

    Overall Score:81/100


    mistysakura's judging


    Plot: (13/20 points)

    The whole plot has a feeling of serenity to it. Nothing is made very dramatic and events flow on to each other naturally. I like how the plot had a cyclical sort of structure, and bits of the plot are reflective on previous parts. For example, I like how Cecil’s ambitions to go to the new world and make a better life are compared to Amelia’s modern way of life.

    The story seems a little rushed timeline-wise at points. Although I get why Emily would begin to think of her life as Amelia as a wacky dream, the fact that it seems to happen in a matter of minutes makes it less convincing. The way I read it, Amelia picks up the box, turns into Emily, buys the box and runs off, meets Cecil, goes home, and by that time she thinks her other life was a dream. Surely it’s more difficult than that to leave years of life behind?

    I think that more time could be spent on Emily’s transition to her new life. The one paragraph written on it makes me think that Emily thinks of her old life only as some sort of recurring dream, but it would be more convincing to talk about times when she begins to doubt her new life, times when she struggles to understand things in her new life, things like that.

    The plot structure seems a bit weird in that it started out with the mystery of Amelia picking up the box and turning into Emily, but then most of the plot actually focuses on Emily’s relationship with Cecil. I don’t think there is enough time to do each plot justice. On the one hand, we never get to find out anything about the box, which I think leaves things a bit incomplete. You get the reader thinking about why the box transported Amelia to the other world and whether Emily existed before Amelia picked the box up, and whether Amelia will try to get back to her own world, but then that part of the plot drops out completely. On the other hand, the central point of Emily and Cecil staying with each other through thick and thin is weakened by the chunks of plot dealing with how Amelia became Emily and how she accepted her new life. In a short story there’s no time for multiple focal points. Focusing on one central idea only will make the idea much stronger. Amelia becoming Emily is necessary backstory for Emily’s decision to stay with Cecil, but it became too large a part of the plot.

    The other point of the plot I think a bit awkward is the introduction of the pendant, which comes out of nowhere and is basically a plot device to bring Amelia back to her old life. It would have been better if the pendant had appeared earlier in the plot or had some other significance rather than just being a random pendant.

    -Plot Originality:(7/10 points)
    Being transported to a new world has been done before. The understanding that material things are not the most important isn’t a revelation either. But the way you combine the two plots, with Emily deciding to stay with Cecil in the world in which she feels she belongs, is fairly original. Whether it is effective is a different question.

    Writing Style: (15/20 points)
    The water flowing and leaves dancing are described beautifully and succinctly. You describe Amelia’s new clothes well; it’s not just a random description, but serves a purpose in the story. Cecil’s description doesn’t fit quite as well, but you manage to keep it short, not disturbing the flow of the story.

    Your questions on modern life are stunning. You make our way of life sound so unnatural that we can’t help being inclined to agree with Emily when she thinks that her life as Amelia was a wacky dream.

    One thing that stands out is the way you describe Emily/ Amelia’s actions. You choose your words well to really bring the character to life. I can really see Emily laughing at herself and snapping at Cecil and Amelia gasping as she realizes she is no longer in her own world.

    The one area where I’d look for improvement is contrast. Whether Amelia’s relaxing and looking at pretty things or being totally shocked at becoming Emily, the tone of the narrative stays pretty much the same, which makes twists less dramatic. Instead of everything building up to an exciting climax, the atmosphere stays the same throughout. I think you could put more emotion into important scenes to make them stand out more and engage with the reader.

    Spelling and Grammar: (8.5/10 points)
    Perfect – except “?!” isn’t a punctuation mark, not even in speech. Also, when you end speech with an exclamation mark or question mark or anything other than a full stop, you don’t need to put a comma after it. ‘“Blah!,” she said’ is wrong while ‘”Blah!” she said’ is correct.

    Characters: (11/15 points)

    The characters were developed quite well. From the beginning, the difference in Amelia and Laura’s interests is highlighted, and the way that Emily just takes over Amelia’s thoughts and actions is creepy, but convincing. We really get to see Cecil’s ambition borne from his love from Emily, and how he comes to realize that what Emily wants most is him. Emily’s character could be a bit stronger though. We see that she devotes everything to support Cecil and is obviously quite strong-willed as she is willing to leave her old life behind, but we could get to know her better if we could see more thoughts from her, especially in times of conflict. It would be interesting to see more of how she falls in love with Cecil and adjusts to her new life, as well as her reasoning – if she ever doubts the old life was a dream.

    Sometimes it feels like you are telling us about Emily and Cecil rather than showing us their relationship, like in the big paragraph describing how Cecil felt he ought to make a better life for Emily; that is probably because of the word limit. Still, even when summarizing something as complex as a relationship, it’s important to stay in the character’s mind. For example, the paragraph I was talking about deals with Emily thinking about her relationship with Cecil, yet it says things like “she was so understanding and rarely asked for anything”. It’s not something Emily would think about herself, so it sounds out of place.


    -Settings: (12/15 points)

    You’ve put a lot of effort into describing both the old world and the new world. I especially like the difference in clothing, and the way you describe the ocean. The antiquated world feels authentic. The thing I like most is how Emily thinks of the modern world as a strange, strange place.

    I think that the contrasts between the old world and the modern world could be accentuated if you described the shop in the modern world more. For example, you say that the shop in the old world has “a smell of fresh wood and salt”, but without the smells of the original shop there’s not much to compare with. On the other hand, because you describe the island in the first paragraph, when you describe the view as Amelia steps out of the shop, I am able to feel the shock as it was so different from before.

    Overall Appreciation: (7/10 points)
    An enjoyable read raising questions on the values of modern life. I especially like the description. I’d have liked to see a bit deeper into Emily’s mind though; I can’t quite believe that she accepts everything so naturally. I would also have liked a bit more drama and more contrast in your writing style. However, you’ve still done a great job.

    Overall Score:73.5/100




    Houndoom_Lover
    It starts with a box


    Saffire Persian's judging

    Plot: (14/20 points)
    Umm.. plot. The plot was okay, but I wondered really where it was going a lot of the time. I thought it'd be a Mario version of the Christmas Carol, at first, admittedly. Well, you turned the plot on me and made my theories very, very wrong. Instead of a Christmas Carol, it was all about deliveries... and then the plot ended. Rather abruptly. Poor Mario. So, to me, the plot really didn't seem to be solved, per say, rather, ended until the next adventure.

    A 2500 word limit probably didn't help you in that regard. You could probably use a bit more of a focused plot, but I can tell you were having a lot of fun writing this, so I had a blast reading it.

    Plot Originality: (5/10 points) The plot didn't strike me as original or "non-original" really. If I were to try to pin down the plot, I'd probably compare it to an RPG--which fits, considering Mario's game-stardom. To me, it just felt this story was a novelized version of one of those fetch-quests in an RPG where you run about the countryside for someone or other. You really don't know why you're doing it, considering you should be going to confront Bowser, but you do it anyway. And hopefully for some kind of novelty prize in the end. Like a new hammer. Unfortunately for Mario, he got none of that.

    Writing Style: (16/20 points) Like Lady Vulpix, this was probably your best trait. You really have a talent for coming up with some really imaginative and inventive metaphors and similes, and you had me smirking more than once. You also brought to life a very flamboyant narrator that wasn't quite breaking the forth wall, but seemed to be there within the for a great remark every now and then. From those things alone, I can see you have a ton of potential as a writer. You may only be a beginner now, but I can see great things in your future if you keep practicing the craft. I'd first start working on making your sentences less choppy and passive, and focus it more on making it active. You're actually doing that a lot of the time, you just need to hone it and practice.

    Spelling and Grammar: (6/10 points)

    Your spelling's great, actually. It's your grammar and such you need to work on. A lot of your sentences didn't flow like they should, and you could have used more active wording in a lot of places. As it stands, your narrative reminded me of an old road--a great way to travel, though bumpy at times, a few fun dips, and some smooth sailing every now and then. For instance:

    None of the Toads seemed to want to move this time. They looked at each other and made tiny noises of timidity, like school boys who forgot their homework, after breaking into the Dean’s car.
    "Timity" is what gets me--it just sounds really weird and hinders the flow of the sentence. Maybe rearranging it to something like, "The Toads seemed reluctant to moved. They all looked at each other in a nervously, making tiny, ever-so-timid squeaking noises. They were acting like school boys who had forgotten their homework..." might have worked better.

    Also, keep a good look out for homophones or other typos where you might have typed something else when you meant something different entirely. Here's an example of something I *think* you missed, unless I don't know this certain kind of Toad from Mario world.

    The adult Toad, with his bright red mushroom self, and spots a jolly green, jerked awake. His head slipped off his head, falling hard on the counter.
    So, how does one's head slip off his head? I would like to know. xD As amusing as that was, I assume you meant hat or something. Unless he has an extra head that you haven't told me about.

    See? These little, accidental mistakes are hindering the reader's enjoyment of the story and making them go "Did his head just fall of his head? Huh?" Though I assure you, this was a really entertaining mistake. Most won't be that way. As it is, I love that quote dearly, for all the wrong reasons, perhaps, but nevertheless, awesome.

    If I could recommend something to you, I would insist you enlist a reliable Beta Reader. Her or she can help you with any problems you might have, and catch most of those problems you'd run into when writing--Betas are worth it, and can iron out all those nasty kinks before you post it to be viewed to the public. You want it to look its best, and a loyal beta can help it become the best it can be.


    Characters: (11/15 points)

    One word: fun. All your Mario characters seemed incredibly true to canon, and it looks like you had a lot of fun with writing the characters, and it shows. I think that's one, if not the, most important trait a writer can have, and it's something many of us tend to be severely lacking in. Don't lose your enjoyment of the genre, and just keep writing. Have fun. But as you have fun writing, try to make your next work be 4 times better than the last. Deepen characters' relationships, up the action. Whatever you need to do to improve on your old one--just like many other famous writers..

    -Settings: (10/15 points)

    Nice, but more of a picture is needed. HolliJolli village, for instance, was pretty blurry to me. I would've liked to know what the tourists were doing at the time--were they gazing into the numerous shop windows, wanting to buy things but knowing they were two expensive? Were they skiing down some famous slope? Were they playing around in the ice rink? What was the village like? A decent description would help that. I'm not telling you to write paragraph after paragraph, but a good, solid description--perhaps a medium-sized paragraph at most-- would probably be beneficial. And what about Ebenezer's place? Was it staunch and orderly like I guessed, or different? You still had fun ideas concerning setting (I enjoyed the random warp pipe) but you still need to use them.

    Overall Appreciation: (6/10 points)

    It was fun read, and really, really cute. I really liked your writing style, and your metaphors/similes were downright hilarious and I loved them. You definitely were familiar with the Mario fandom and tried your best to stay true to its canon while having a blast with it. Give it a little time and you'll be one heck of a writer.

    Overall Score:68/100


    mistysakura's judging


    Plot: (10/20 points)

    The plot amuses me. It really does. You keep things going at a whirlwind pace, introducing memorable characters at every turn, and having twists like the present being stolen from Mario and the machine blowing up helps keep interest levels up. I didn’t see the twists coming at all. The whole thing reads like a fun adventure from a video game, even incorporating things like warp pipes.

    However, the whole plot is disjoint and lacks focus. You start with Ebenezer dreaming about relaxing in the sun, and then he gets this mysterious package to deliver. So he persuades Mario to deliver it, and all of a sudden we forget about Ebenezer’s life and move on to how Mario delivers the package. Then, even before Mario delivers the package to Joe, we shift viewpoints again, this time to Fawful’s machine. There’s no time for us to really get to know a character before we move on to the next, which means we don’t care as much about what happens to them. It also means that as we read about Mario delivering the package, we’re still thinking about Ebenezer and whether he’ll get his condo, which means we’re not following the plot as closely. Ebenezer’s side of the plot is never resolved – it’s like we’re just supposed to forget about him. The whole first part of the story focuses on Ebenezer as a main character, but what does he contribute to the plot? He makes Mario deliver the package – that’s it. It’s like he’s just there to set up Mario’s journey. But once you have us interested in a main character, you can’t stop writing about him just because he’s done whatever he has to do to make the plotline work. Maybe if you had started off with Mario as the main character instead of Ebenezer, we’d keep our attention on Mario most of the time, and you’d be able to fade Ebenezer out of the plot more naturally.

    Many parts of the plot could be developed much further. For example, the creation of Fawful’s machine to raise Cackaletta from the dead is covered in one short paragraph, and comes out of nowhere. We know Cackaletta was Fawful’s mistress, but what kind of person was she? How did she die? How did Fawful get the idea to build a machine to raise her from the dead? While we’re at it, why did Mario and Peach have to go to Bowser to prove they weren’t married? Lots of questionable points are covered in one passing sentence, which means the reader doesn’t understand much about the situation at all. We’d feel more engaged with the fic if we knew more about the background of what was going on. Okay, so you have a word limit, but take a look at your plot. You have a toad dreaming of sunshine and buying a condo, running a shop selling gifts and doing deliveries and being somewhat paranoid about it. You have Mario wanting to get a perfect gift for Peach, and him going on a journey to deliver a package in exchange for it. You have this place called Stardust which is supposedly doom to Toads, and Boos who apparently steal everything in sight when provoked. You have Joe setting up a coffee shop in the worst part of town to get away from burglars. You have Fawful building a machine to raise his wife from the dead, and he’s a criminal. The last point alone could be a fic of a decent length; the plot is too much to squish into a short story. I’d suggest that you pare the plot back to the bare minimum so you can spend more time on things you want to emphasise, rather than just going through each point briefly.

    Some bits of the plot I thought just didn’t make sense, like Fawful sending himself the last bean as a gift. Why on earth would he do that? And if Mario wanted the perfect gift for Peach so much, surely he’d be agonizing more over the Boos stealing it.

    -Plot Originality:(6/10 points)
    The twists are there all right, and I didn’t see any of them coming. But when you look at the things in the plot separately it’s mostly things we’ve all seen before. A package which ends up making a machine explode (okay, due to the lack of it)? Comical explosions aren’t exactly new. A miserly character named Ebenezer? An adventurous Mario? They're not particularly original either. I think that you can make characters taken from video games original, but that requires more character development than you’ve shown here. The adventure game feel of the plot also doesn’t differ much from a Mario video game. To draw people into reading your fic, you can take things from existing fandoms, but what’s important is to come up with your own twists and interpretations, and add your own ideas to what’s already there. This could be improved on in your fic.

    Writing Style: (16/20 points)
    I like this writing style. The animation and exuberance suits the crazy plot perfectly. You’ve kept the language simple and described characters’ gestures in an exaggerated manner, which gives the whole thing a cartoonish feel. You’ve also used humour well to enhance this. Describing Ebenezer as “as giddy as a jay bird that was shot in the butt” is spot on, slotting him into a laughable caricature instantly. The similes you’ve used are especially effective in doing this, because they provide a mental picture right away.

    However, sometimes you repeat phrases, which take away from the effect of your writing. For example, you used “as giddy as a jay bird that was shot in the butt” twice (once incompletely, but used nonetheless); the second time you use it it doesn’t add anything to my image of Ebenezer. Later on, when talking about the Boos, you say that one is “(Clearly a male if Boo are to have genders)”, then say the other one is “(…most likely a girl if Boos have genders). Explaining about the genders thing twice isn’t really necessary.


    Also, sometimes your choice of words is a bit strange. For example, in ‘“What?” He puzzled sharply,’, how does one ‘puzzle sharply’? How does one puzzle a sentence anyway? You can say a sentence, scream it, whisper it, but you can’t puzzle it. A better way to say it would be ‘”What?” he said sharply, puzzled”. Also, I don’t get how or why Ebenezer would have “a smile on his face, and a carefully frown on his brow”, or why he beams while looking slightly worried, for that matter. If he’s trying to get Mario to go to Beanbean, surely he’d be as enthusiastic as possible? Sometimes your description could be more effective. Saying a Boo has “boo-ish hair” doesn’t say much. Try describing it in physical terms, such as the colour and style; comparisons don’t work all of the time, and it’s up to you to decide which choice of words will plant the clearest image in the reader’s head.

    Spelling and Grammar: (6/10 points)
    Spelling’s decent enough except for some typos. You have to remember that spell check isn’t your friend sometimes, because some typos are still words, just the wrong ones. For example, in “he planed to not move”, ‘to plane’ means to make a piece of wood smooth, which isn’t what you’re after at all. The word you want is ‘planned’, but since ‘planed’ is also a word the mistake won’t show up in spell check. It’s good to have a careful read through your work before posting to catch out this sort of mistake. Some mistakes I saw could be genuine mistakes though; for example, ‘cheep’ (the sound a bird makes) is written instead of ‘cheap’ (what Ebenezer apparently isn’t). If you’re not sure if you’ve spelt a word correctly, you can right click in Word to find its synonyms (or just go on Dictionary.com), and if the meanings they give don’t make sense you’re probably after a different word. An easier way would just be to get someone else to read through your work.

    Grammar-wise, what stands out most to me is the use of capitals after quotation marks. For example, in ““I’ve never failed to delivered something,” He sighed heavily…” because the whole thing is one sentence, separated only by a comma, ‘He’ should be lowercase. (Oh yeah, and ‘delivered’ should be ‘deliver’.)

    Another thing: sound effects work well when used correctly, but you still have to use proper punctuation. When the doorbell goes “Ding, Ding”, you can’t just leave the sentence hanging; it needs a punctuation mark at the end (most probably an exclamation mark). The same goes for stuff in parentheses. If the bracketed bit is in the middle of a sentence (like this), you don’t necessarily need to end it with a punctuation mark, but if a whole sentence is bracketed, it still needs its normal punctuation. (Like this.) For example, in “(Clearly a male if Boo are to have genders)”, you’d need a period after ‘genders’ and before the closing bracket.

    Oh yeah, make up your mind: is his name Toadge or Toadgde?

    Characters: (12/15 points)
    As said before, you’ve caricatured the characters really well. Ebenezer’s probably the most developed, with the conflict between his love of money and his tendency to act like a scaredy-cat. Then you’ve got Fawful the mad inventor and Mario the adventurer. You’ve captured their essences in just a few scenes. None of the characterization is particularly deep, but that’s largely okay because the fic is more like a skit than anything serious. Still, slightly more characterization would draw us to the characters more, and could help with the humour as well. You don’t have to go into the deep and meaningful, like the characters’ life philosophies or anything like that. However, perhaps you could use the relationships between characters more. For example, because of the contrast between the little toads’ timidity and Ebenezer’s bossy attitude, their characters are really distinguished when they’re talking to each other. Maybe you could do that with Ebenezer and Mario, contrasting their reactions to the adventure of delivering the package. Or maybe you could have the twelve-year-old girl as a picture of calm, making Fawful’s excitement even more obvious. Because none of the characters interact much, it makes them harder to characterize. Character interactions are great for humour as well – in Pokemon, Brock scenes wouldn’t be half as funny without Misty dragging him away from girls all the time.

    -Settings: (9/15 points)
    Hehe, I like the location of the cafe! The setting has so much potential. You’ve got these fantastically named kingdoms with wacky people – now you just need to work on describing the physical settings a bit. I can’t visualize Ebenezer’s shop at all (except for the Open/Closed sign flipped by the toad, hehe), and the settings of Mario’s journey were similarly vague; I know there’s a lot of snow and a warp pipe, and that was about it. Maybe if you talk a bit about what colour stuff in the shop is, how exactly Joe’s shop is simple and humble (four wooden stumps as stools glued to the ground, with a handpainted sign with spelling mistakes perhaps?) we’d be able to see the characters’ surroundings more clearly. It doesn’t have to be a huge chunk of description, just enough to start off our imaginations – we can then fill in the gaps ourselves.

    Overall Appreciation: (7/10 points)
    That was fun, lots of fun to read. Took me back to my childhood, it did. But your main problem is the plot, which is all over the place and lacks focus, especially for a short story. Ask yourself: what is the most important thing in this fic? If you could only have one scene in this fic, which would it be? Then you can build up the plot around this scene, thinking about what storyline would make what you’re tyring to say the most memorable. You could improve heaps with time and practice. In a short story, you have one shot to grab the reader’s attention. You have one shot to blast a revelation into their minds, one shot to make your fic a story to remember. Use it well.

    Overall Score:66/100




    mario72486
    Precious Cargo


    Saffire Persian's judging


    Plot: (17/20 points)

    The plot was actually very good, simple, but useful, and fit well in the 2500 allotted word limit without feeling incredibly rushed or too under developed. In fact, everything tied up quite nicely, though perhaps another good thousand words or so might've allowed you for some further development that certainly couldn't hurt anyone. The only thing I really can't wrap my mind around is why they didn't have Yank shooting at the enemy fighters if he were the better shot. I know the others made him stay back and he addressed this, but really... All right, you have a camera with important film, but even if he was shielding it with his body, it wouldn't have been any less protected if it had been watched over by one of the more novice fighters. I mean, if the plane goes down, so does the film, so shouldn't shooting the enemy down as efficiently and fast as possible be the best solution? That's what I didn't get.

    Perhaps if you had developed it, and had the excuse be something revolving around the crew not wanting him to fight because they really cared about him--he being the only Yankee in the bunch-- perhaps that option would have made more sense and been more easy for me to accept the fact he didn't get into the shooter's place fast enough. That was my only gripe that was likely more subjective than it is fact, but even so, take it for what it's worth. As it stands, you still have a solid, well-flowing story line that worked out in the way the others didn't. You made it fit into the word count without skimping on things. Yes, more things could have been added, but the story could stand alone in its own right without additional words.

    Plot Originality: (8/10 points) Original enough. I don't read war stories like this often, so this genre is fairly new and unexplored. The plot seemed down to earth and viable and, most important of all, believable. It's also easily summed up as "take this extremely sensitive film back to England". I really don't have any more to say. All of my other thoughts are said above.

    Writing Style: (19/20 points) Really nice job! You developed the main narrator well, and the rest of the crew seemed alive and vibrant and I really enjoyed how it was written. You certainly took advantage of the pros of the first person point of view and deftly missing the cons of it on all accounts. The narrator never felt stiff, and actually felt like there was a real person narrating his flying experiences as a young pilot.

    Your writing style is also smooth and flows well, without any of the awkward bumpiness of some other stuff I've read before; however, I'll be the first to admit I had no idea what many of those aviation/military terms meant. It brought more realism to the story, but left me confused at the same time. But given that I know nothing about those terms, it's really no surprise.

    Spelling and Grammar: (10/10 points)

    I couldn't really find anything wrong. And anything that was out of place wasn't obvious enough for me to notice.

    Characters: (12/15 points) This was one of your strong points. The narrator, as stated beforehand, was vibrant and alive. The crew was as well, though in a different kind of way. If I were to add something to this story myself, it would be to flesh out the rest of the crew characters. As they are now, they seem a bit one-sided types of people--full of life and realistic, certainly, but one-sided. If you ever were to modify this, helping flesh out the crew would help us understand just what kind of people he's working with. I have a bit of the gist of what kind of honorable people they are now now, judging from the scenes in the dogfight, but that was only one side of them. And I admit I have a soft spot for reading about relationships, romantic or no, so any interaction between the Yank and the rest of the crew was always greatly welcomed .

    -Settings: (14/15 points) Really great. It really felt like you were in the plane with them, especially during the battle when they were fighting for their lives. The narrator's and everybody else's use of military terms and such made it all the more realistic.

    Overall Appreciation: (8/10 points)

    Admittedly, I'm not a fan of aerial combat stories, and would probably not pick up a book that centered on them out of choice. Still, your short story was fun to read, and was a nice taste of the aerial military genre which I am usually not a part of. What really intrigued me was how true-to-life it sounded and how well it flowed, free from any spelling or grammar mistakes to trip up the story or otherwise bring the reader out of the story you created.

    Overall Score:88/100


    mistysakura's judging


    Plot: (16/20 points)

    The foreshadowing of the attack is done well; you also take the opportunity to explain the sort of defenses the Allies have, which comes into play later. It is really obvious they are going to be attacked, so it isn’t a plot twist as such, but it still heightens the drama.

    Everything is chaotic as the battle begins, and because of all the confusion the death of the radioman is a genuine shock to us. You don’t spend a lot of time dwelling on his death, which actually makes it all the more dramatic because it is so sudden and because like the characters, we realize there is no time to reflect on the death of another as death stares you in the face in a battle.

    The leader being the last to be taken down is perfect. The mixture of victories and losses is balanced well, and we don’t start thinking that the protagonists are unrealistically lucky or doomed. The build-up to the climax is done well. Everyone running out of ammunition at the same time, while rather unlikely, builds up the suspense very quickly, and the realization that the 190 is going to ram the Allies’ plane pushes it to new heights.

    The B17 getting saved by reinforcements seems to be a bit of a cop-out, but it is better than having them get out of the mess by some almighty unlikely maneuver. Even with the reinforcements, the Allies are barely able to overcome the 190s, which makes it a bit more realistic.

    One thing that bugs me was the declaration that they’d never use the hunk of junk for a box-camera again. But surely the reason they use it in the first place is that they had no other choice, and any other camera would prove as costly? There seems to be confusion about whether the lives that died to save the camera and its images are worth it. On the one hand, we have the statement that the camera is a hunk of junk, and we have the pressing image of the carnage around the plane just to protect the camera, which appeals to us emotionally. On the other hand, we have the statement that sometimes sacrifices have to be made, and the few that died on this day would save countless more. Perhaps this is the intent of the fic – to let us make up our own minds on the sacrifice. But it bugs me that Jake doesn’t seem to be leaving it to us – he seems to have a definite opinion; I just can’t quite make out what it is.

    -Plot Originality:(6/10 points)
    So, it’s a war story. It’s not that I’m going “there are heaps of war stories, so this isn’t original”; it’s pretty much a defined genre. But most of the plot seems fairly familiar – a unit out on a mission, the enemy ambushes them, they fight, blood is spilled, the protagonist makes some sacrifices, shows some heroics and they win narrowly. I do think that some things, like the use of the box camera and Jake being the only American in the English unit, are unusual though.

    I think that whether an idea is executed well or not is more important than its originality – your fic proves this.

    Writing Style: (17/20 points)

    You explain the technological aspects of the war well, grabbing our attention early on and giving us enough information to understand the direness of the mission without compromising interest. The style Jake uses is appropriately military, which fits with the atmosphere. You get to the point quickly, without elaborating on the course of the mission, which is good because it brings all the focus onto the battle, and Jake sounds like the sort of person who would get straight to the point. We see the urgency of the situation through the way the people speak – lots of curses and in-your-face images, such as “I’ve got bullet holes in my windscreen!”

    The ferocity of the fighter planes is also described wonderfully, striking the right balance between sounding technologically impressive (“two 13-millimeter machine guns and two 30-millimeter cannons”) and putting things in laymen’s terms (“190 could make Swiss cheese out of its target”). This also works when talking about the planes’ movements, although I did get momentarily confused once, when you were talking about the gunners right after you said a 190 could make Swiss cheese out of its target; because you were talking about the 190s beforehand I thought you were talking about Axis gunners.

    The turning point really stands out in this story, when Jake decides to abandon the camera and fight. The style goes from pure description of what is going on to introspection about unnecessary death and destruction. The pace slows down a bit there, and starts right back up with the paragraph containing the single sentence “I’d be damned if I followed that order”. Very effective indeed.

    One of the things I’d criticize is the use of “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself” at the beginning, which breaks the flow. Just as we are getting into the story, we’re reminded that we’re only the audience, and are distanced from everything that is happening. The introduction would work just as well without that sentence.

    The other thing is that the way Blake explains to Jake why he has to guard the camera seems dodgy. Jake already knows he is the only one who could develop the film; he doesn’t need to be told that, especially in a state of emergency with time in such short supply. Besides, surely the unit would have worked out and rehearsed a plan beforehand. The explanation seems more for the benefit of the readers more than anything else, which makes it sound stilted.


    Spelling and Grammar: (7.5/10 points)
    Overall, very readable. There’s some confusion between present and past tense. Most of the story is in past tense, but when Jake introduces himself and talks about what the unit does, it’s in present tense. This seems to make sense; I mean, he’s not going to say “I was Sergeant Jake”. The way you’ve structured this, it sounds like Jake is recounting a tale to us, so if the unit still exists at the time Jake is telling this story, it makes sense for him to use present tense about what it does as well. But then you have to keep it consistent. For example, instead of saying “that’s where we came in”, you have to say “that’s where we come in”. You also switch between present and past tense when talking about the camera.

    There are a few other mistakes –in “the pilot screamed as his copilot collapsed, his blood spilling over the gauges and controls. The strafing run having cut through his head and chest”, the second sentence is a fragment, and should be joined to the first with a comma. There are also some typos.

    Characters: (13/15 points)
    The people in the air force are characterized by little things like calling Jake ‘Yank’. Jake stands out immediately as a character to us because of this. The directness and roughness of Blake’s speech fits well with his image as a leader. Because there is so much action in the fic, there’s little time to elaborate on each character, but I think being minimalist works here. Jake is the only character that really matters and you’ve developed him well (heroic, valuing mateship, trusting his gut feelings, perhaps a bit rash…). Not developing the rest of the unit as individuals actually helps retain the focus on Jake. However, you get a strong feeling that the team is all in this together, which is important characterization as well.

    -Settings: (12/15 points)
    You introduce the setting immediately and well. Using dialogue to introduce the reader to characters or settings can be stuffed up so easily, but you worked the fact that the characters were in a war, on the Allied side and in the Air Force away from home right off the bat. Impressive.

    It’s difficult to do the setting well in action scenes, because you have to convey where everything is without cluttering up paragraphs with unnecessary geographical stuff. I think you did a good job here, describing the paths of the fighter planes and mentioning where everyone in the unit is so we can visualize the battle as it is going on. The only problem I have is that I know nothing about fighter planes so I can’t visualize gun turrets or bubble canopies. Perhaps a little more physical description could do there, but only a tiny bit because you don’t want to bog down the action with unnecessary description.

    Overall Appreciation: (8/10 points)
    Wow, there isn’t a whole lot for me to say here. That was excellent. I was totally sucked into Jake’s world and the conflicts, both physical and emotional, were so real to me.

    Overall Score:79.5/100





    So, the overall results are:
    In third place, Houndoom_Lover with 68+66 = 132 points!
    In second place, Lady Vulpix with 81 + 73.5 = 154.5 points!
    And the winner of the November 2007 Writing Contest is mario72486, with 88+79.5 = 167.5 points!

    Congratulations to everyone who participated; you all did very well. Thanks for all the effort you put into your pieces. A special congratulations goes to mario72486, of course. A winner's banner will be winging your way... sometime. In the meantime, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to bed.
    Last edited by mistysakura; 5th January 2008 at 11:31 AM.
    mistysakura
    2007 Golden Pens: Co-winner of Best Poem (Rain Eternal) and Best Reviewer
    2007 Silver Pencils: Winner of Best Poem (Death Sonnet -- Untitled)
    2004 Silver Pencils: Winner of Nicest Fanficcer & Least Likely Couple (with PancaKe)
    Former 3-time winner of Most Dedicated Reader at the Fanfiction Forums
    Also Keeper of the 'A'ctivator Unown

    Brimstone Diamonds. The Artist. Tightrope. Solitude. Autopsy.
    Glitter (one-shot).
    Listen to Rain Eternal -- a song.

    Random thought: 2+2=5.

  8. #8
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    Default Re: The November 2007 Writing Contest!

    0__0 ..........I won?

    Wow, what an honor. I wasn't expecting to get this kind of reaction, but I appreciate it nonetheless.

    As for the short stort itself, you never know. If I feel the inspiration flowing for it, I'll definitely add on to it and post it on the forums again. There are so many possibilities as to how it can be improved upon.

    Anyway, thanks Saffire, misty, for giving me the opportunity to show what my style is capable of.
    Computer problems? Contact Serv U 724 and Tune it up, Back it up, Keep it up.

  9. #9
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    Default Re: The November 2007 Writing Contest!

    Congratulations, Mario!

    I could foresee Mario's victory, but... second place for me? I didn't think what I posted had any potential, after being crunched down so much to fit the word limit. After reading that review, I think I may write a full version someday. Not for now, though.

    Now, to answer the questions...

    Buckles were never a real currency, as far as I know. I didn't want the story to be tied to our world. I would have introduced more differences to make the setting more original if I'd had the chance, especially if I'd been able to tell the story of the dry ice. I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing... or neither good nor bad; it's just that I feel more free when I get to design a world of my own.

    The commas in the dialogues were intentional, because that's what I learnt when I was studying English. It said so in a book by Cambridge University Press. If the rule has changed since then, please let me know. As for leaving no spaces between lines, it's something I always do, mostly to save up space and because I don't see any reason to separate them. Is there one?

    I didn't know that the word "alright" wasn't commonly used, thanks for letting me know. I live in a Spanish-speaking country so I don't get to hear people speak English a lot, except on TV and in the movies, so it's hard to know what's common and what isn't. I post on message boards a lot, but people don't often type in the same way as they speak.

    Thanks for everything.
    Last edited by Lady Vulpix; 5th January 2008 at 02:04 PM.

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  10. #10
    Is making this place terminal Elite Trainer
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    Default Re: The November 2007 Writing Contest!

    Ah, last place again- Oh well, now maybe if we added another 1000 words....XD Ah, short stories. Actually, I did have fun with this one! In fact, it inspired me to write many wee Mario fanfictions. A fan chapter for someone, and a massive fic...I have to upload it -.-...Umm, thanks for whoever said they smirk when they read my many like,as,is of were metaphor silimie nonsences ^_______^ Can't wait for the next one!
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  11. #11

    Default Re: The November 2007 Writing Contest!

    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Vulpix View Post
    Congratulations, Mario!

    The commas in the dialogues were intentional, because that's what I learnt when I was studying English. It said so in a book by Cambridge University Press. If the rule has changed since then, please let me know. As for leaving no spaces between lines, it's something I always do, mostly to save up space and because I don't see any reason to separate them. Is there one?


    Thanks for everything.

    Umm... I don't know if Cambridge really taught "use commas and other punctuation marks at the same time with dialogue". I.E. the "Hi,!" thing. I know that certainly isn't a thing done in American English books, and, as far as I know, British English. If you had the book page where it had that rule in with you, I'd like to see it, because I've never ever seen that particular brand of punctuation in an English Punctuation/grammar guide before. Of course, if that's what you taught yourself, through your book I don't blame you for using it, but I'm quite sure it isn't standard now. xD

    And buckles as a fake currency - sounds good to me. ^^ Congrats, Mario.


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  12. #12
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    Default Re: The November 2007 Writing Contest!

    Congratulations to everyone once again, and stay tuned for our next contest!
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