Due 5/1: Writing Assignment

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  • Entry #1

    Votes: 0 0.0%

  • Entry #2

    Votes: 0 0.0%

  • Entry #3

    Votes: 0 0.0%

  • Entry #4

    Votes: 2 66.7%

  • Entry #5

    Votes: 1 33.3%

  • Entry #6

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Total voters
    3
  • Poll closed .
dorkelf

dorkelf

Active Member
With apologies to those who wanted a three week writing contest, we just don't have enough participation at this point to warrant it. So we're going back to four weeks for this contest - three weeks of writing, one week of voting. Also, from now on I will indefinitely extend the contest any time there are less than two entries. Otherwise it isn't really a "contest".

ASSIGNMENT GUIDELINES: Huh? A librarian wearing a bullet-proof vest? Explain why.
 
ENTRY #1

Title: Ye olde public library.
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“The third time it‘s happened!” the head librarian told Mrs. Smith in exasperation.
“Hoodlums, Miss Hadley.” Mrs. Smith commiserated sympathetically, loading her books into a bag.

“What is happening to this country? It’s completely uncivilized behavior.” another librarian sniffed.

“Good morning, ladies.” the custodian said cheerfully as he walked into the library.
“Roberts, you’re late again.” the head librarian said sternly.

“Sorry, ma’am - my wife had a hard time adjusting the uh.. ‘vest’ to fit my shoulders.” he apologized.
“Vests?” Mrs. Smith asked curiously.

A police officer walked into the library behind Roberts and blew his whistle.
“Ready for inspection?”
“Do we really have to do this, Sergeant Baker?” one of the librarians sighed.

“Chief’s orders, ma’am. We don’t want anyone getting injured.” Baker answered.
“He’s right. You can’t be too careful.” Roberts nodded, filling his bucket from a sink in the janitor closet.

Baker blew his whistle again and the librarians slowly lined up. The police officer walked past slowly, examining them.
“Miss Johnson, where’s your Kevlar vest?” he asked sharply.
“Oh - it was too big, Officer Baker.” she said. “And it - it made me look like I was about to have a baby.”

From the closet, the janitor laughed loudly.

“I’m sorry, but you have to wear it or you aren’t allowed inside the library.” he warned.
“Mary, I can help you make it smaller.” Mrs. Smith suggested.
“Mrs. Smith - where’s your vest?” Baker boomed.

“..mine?”
“Everyone who comes into the library has to wear a Kevlar vest. Didn’t you see the sign?”
“Well, I - uh..”
“Miss Hadley, get her a vest.” the police officer ordered.

The door flew open and three teenagers wearing paintball gear dashed in.
“AAAah! It’s them!” Miss Johnson screamed, ducking behind the front desk.
The teenagers grabbed a video sitting on the counter, sprayed paintballs at everyone, then ran out.
“- come back here!” Officer Baker shouted, running after them.

“Another mess to clean up.” Roberts sighed wearily, picking up his squeegee.
Miss Hadley looked down at her blouse and shook her head sadly.
"This was my favorite blouse.."
“They took our last copy of ‘An Inconvenient Truth’.” another librarian moaned.

“Last time I was here there were five copies on display..” Mrs. Smith said puzzledly.
"Those hoodlums stole the others on their last three visits." the librarian explained.

"Well, no wonder!" the janitor exclaimed, pointing at one of the bookshelves.
The biography of Al Gore that had been prominently displayed there was specially targetted by the teenagers - his face was completely covered with paint splatters.

"I hate working at libraries in Republican townships..." Miss Hadley muttered.

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Great theme, dorkelf. :)
 
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Entry #2

Act casual, thought Bernie, the janitor of my local library. I just need to get to the cash box.

I had several books overdue, so I was dropping them off and paying my 12 cent overdue charge.
"How the heck do you people make any money?" I asked the librarian. She smiled smugly and, leaning forward, whispered:
"Your tax money, dear!"
I laughed.
"I don't PAY taxes yet, you eel!" I cackled. I started to walk away when suddenly I noticed a patch of kevlar showing from where she had a small rip in the shoulder of her blouse.
"What the-" I began. Before I could understand what was happening, the seemingly-complacent janitor picked up his mop and beamed me across the side of my head. I spun in pain and felt another quick blow to my stomach, this time with the business end of his broom. A quick smack in the face with his bucket and I was down for the count.
"YOU!!" shrieked the librarian.
"That's right, sweet cheeks!!" barked the janitor, who pulled out his cell phone.
"What're you doing, calling the police on yourself?" I muttered as I lay semi-conscious on the cheap linoleum.
"Guess again, you ingratiating little twerp!" he yelled, pointing it at the librarian.

I then remembered a news report about people managing to put tiny .22 caliber rounds into their cell phones. Grunting with pain, I struggled to my feet and did the best I could to stop him.
"NO!!" I yelled, waving my arms around in a way that, to my frazzled brain, seemed like something that might be good to do in a time like this. Bernie chucked his bucket and I was on the floor the moment it hit my solar plexus. He pressed the number 5 on his phone and the librarian was knocked off of her chair. Bernie patted himself on the shoulder for the job well done (he never had been right in the head--I figured the fumes of all those expensive solvents had finally gotten to him) and he broke open the drawer filled with money.
"What the heck is this?!" he bawled, scratching his head. At this point, the librarian stood to her feet and scowled.
"It's a flippin' library, Bernie! What'd you expect to find besides four fifty-two in dimes and pennies?" She growled.
"I... I don't know..." he sputtered.

The librarian's hand lashed out and hit a nerve in Bernie's neck and he fell to the floor.
"This can't be good for the linoleum," she complained. She sighed.
"I knew he'd strike someday. I'm glad I thought to wear kevlar today."

A few hours later, a new janitor (this one called himself a custodian) poked me with the end of his mop.
"Get up off the floor, kid. It's closing time," he ordered vehemently.
"What happened??" I grumbled, pulling myself to my feet painfully.
"Some idiot dropped an encyclopedia on you as you stood under him. High shelves, these," he replied.
"What... what about... what happened to Bernie?!" I cried.
"Who's Bernie?" he asked, dumbfounded. I ran to the librarian.
"Miss Kane, what happened to Bernie?!" I stammered.
"Who?" she inquired, perplexed as could be.

So, readers, what happened? Was that just a dream, or did I really witness a crime? No one here will tell.
 
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It's another - CONSPIRACY! :eek:

:D Good story. ...although calling that librarian an eel? Calvin and Hobbbbes...
 
Well, I dunno. It's not that good... I mean, uh - why waste time reading the drivel I waste my hours writing? :( :( :(

(This existential meltdown brought to you by the Exasperated Programmers of America society)
 
Haha, I'm just kidding. :) If I hadn't been - well... :rolleyes: Lazarus and a straitjacket would soon be joined together in insane asylum matrimony... :cool:

Wait - what'dyou mean "wasn't THAT bad"?!!! :eek: :( :confused: :mad:
 
The gate. (Entry #3)

You asked!
Yeah but I never would have dreamed the bookworm becoming a G.I. Joe!
Ha Ha! Must I tell you I am Not a G.I. Joe but a National Guardsman!
Ho ho don’t get up there on me, just give me a second to absorb all this.

So why couldn’t you just tell that you joined instead of inviting me here?
Cause I wanted to put on a fashion show in my uniform. Gosh!
Funniness aside what could ever drive you to joining the service?
Well, a dream.
You mean you joined because you had a dream? Oh do tell!
Well after you and Sarah got married we’ve drifted and then Ethan was born,
Ethan?
Just after he was born a dream came to me with a vision of people in the park having a great time.
People, parks, please go on.
I will, the vision then panned in lower to the ground and started fading back and then I saw a barbwire fence, over across a pair of boots up to a face of a soldier.
So the face of the soldier was you and that’s why you joined?
No, what followed was behind the soldier the vision focused on people, hurrying what looked like entire families in through the small gate. They held hands high and children danced in happiness.
I still can’t see that as life changing!
You got to vision with me on this because as the vision faded back to the fence that’s when I noticed the barbed strands were faced to keep people out.
Why would barbs facing out clue you to joining?
Prisons have wire facing in to keep prisoners in. Now let me finish that the vision faded way back viewing the people pouring in the door and the families playing in the park back to the face of the soldier standing in front of the fence in the pouring rain holding his rifle and the words in large white letters stating SOME CALL US EVIL.
Now you sound like you fell asleep during a recruitment commercial!
Nope just thought with you being daddy someone has to keep our playgrounds safe today and for tomorrow.
G.I Joe ho ho well I got to give thanks for the librarian keeping us safe, Ho ho praying for you.
Weekend warrior fool and I’m just going on drills so save the spasm.
Really I am thankful and my heart is there for you bro. Hug’s?
Yeah mind this vest, it’s prickly.
There’s the horn, best be double timing it. Thank you for stopping by it meant a lot to me.
Good luck and don’t get yourself hurt G.I.! PEACE!!!
 
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Entry #4

NEW NEW DUBLIN (IAP) Guardians have long served as protectors of human history and knowledge. Most protect ancient texts with care and precision. Catherine Callaghan prefers a bulletproof vest and a Smith and Wesson Shock Rifle.

The Grand Intergalactic Library presented Callaghan with the newly dubbed Award of Valor Monday after she neutralized infamous information pirate Samuel Bellamy during a terrorist attack on the New New Dublin Library of Ancient History last Thursday. The ceremony was held in the small biosphere village of New New Dublin.

The 1.5m-tall red-haired New New Dublin native spoke before a Stonehenge Mark II formation of Intergalactic Associated Press panels in a press conference immediately after the ceremony. Callaghan, 21, smiled shyly as she explained how she thwarted the attack on the Library of Ancient History.

"When a middle-aged man with an eyepatch and odd black hat asked me 'Yarr, where might ye texts on Erth be?' I suspected something was amiss."

Callaghan went on to explain the dangers of the ancient texts. "The texts are, of course, restricted as they tend to inspire mad dreams in young people. Some have even been so affected by the texts as to strike off in pursuit of the fictional planet."

Callaghan then asked Bellamy to step over to the Brain Scanninator to verify his Thought Generation patterns did not include acts of wild imagination or conspiracy to commit fun. Bellamy instead brandished a matter-puncturing beam generator and threatened to fire.

Callaghan admitted that she had donned the bulletproof vest only after betting on a game of blurnball and losing.

"I figured the New New York Mets were due for a win," said Callaghan.

She also had high praise for her weapon of choice. "The vest was useful in deflecting the matter-puncturing beam generator. The Smith and Wesson Shock Rifle also came in handy."

Bellamy is scheduled to stand trial for 1,337 acts of grand theft info next week, after he stops twitching.

Copyright 3007 The Intergalactic Associated Press. All rights reserved.This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, redistributed, discussed in front of water coolers, referenced during debates between college students, or thought of without written and blood-signed permission.
 
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Entry #5

I hope I'm not too late; I just found out about this.

For the record, I usually take a bit of a free-writing approach. Whether or not that's significant is beyond my knowledge.

This one is a little bit violent. Hopefully that won't be a huge problem. I'm not explicit in my violence, at least. It also looks kind of long. \oops/ I like how it turned out, but it might freak a bunch of people out. (I probably should have become known in the community before posting things like this, so people don't think me some psychotic madman. Oh well, here's to fate!)

Oh, and it is considerably derivative of Fahrenheit 451, I suppose. \oops/

<-> "End of Knowledge - When History Repeats Itself" <->
“Everyone to the study room!” I screamed, my voice carrying through the library.
Nobody seemed to question me; countless screams of fear rang throughout the building while the patrons ran for the study room.

This day was coming; it had to come. Cliché as it may be, it’s a true statement that those who don’t know history will repeat it. Fortunately for the few here in the library and myself, I knew the past, and, effectively, what was bound to happen.
They were here for us. The official story was that they were here for the books, but everyone knew what was really going on.
They were calling us dangerous. They were calling us closed-minded to the truth. They hated us. They wanted us dead.

It was only inevitable.

That’s why I’m here today. That’s why I work in this library. That’s why I’m wearing Kevlar and have a gun hidden away behind the counter.
The counter that I am now standing behind.

I hurried everyone into the safe room when I saw the vans pull up, but there was little hope for them. There was even less hope for me. I knew how things like this worked; I would die within an hour.

But for all of my despair, I couldn’t just let them destroy such art. I couldn’t live with myself if I had done that. So, I chose to die defending this art.

It’s a bit funny, really, in this age of humanism, I would be willing to die for mere pieces of paper and ink. No, it’s not the pages and ink that they feared, it was what these pages represented: ideas contradictory to the party policy. And it’s because of these ideas that they feared us, they feared me, as well. It’s because of these ideas that they wouldn’t stop with destroying the books.

The main doors were smashed open. I guess this is the end, I thought. Swarms of armed men came rushing through the entrance. “Hands in the air, civilian!” one of them, presumably the leader, shouted at me.

I was scared to death, scared of death, actually, but I didn’t miss a beat with my response, “No, I think not.” I reached below the counter, clinched my gun with white knuckles, and fired at the one I assumed to be the leader. He dropped immediately, but his group didn’t hesitate to return fire.

I took several rounds to the chest, each one hurting more than I thought I could hurt, and I was pushed back to the wall. The Kevlar prevented any bullet penetration, and I managed to fire on another of the armed men.

It didn’t take long for the group to realize that I was wearing a vest, so they quickly adjusted aim. Without hesitation, they shot and killed me. I was done for.

I died, and for what?

The group was ruthless, and seemed unfazed by their losses. Another member of the group spoke up, “That’s it. We’re done here, boys. Burn ‘er to the ground!”

A few of the men ran back to their vans, and, having acquired the fuel they left for, returned just as quickly. The fuel was spread everywhere. Those who were not spreading the fuel had begun filing out of the building; all but the new leader, that is.

His senses were sharper than the others’, and he heard whimpering from a far room. “It sounds like this guy wasn’t alone,” he said aloud, but it didn’t seem to matter that nobody was listening. “They can be burnt with their precious books. Alright boys, let’s go.”

Leaving the building, he lit a match and threw it into the library. Flames rapidly engulfed the archives, and those who were in the study room began to panic. Most were too mortified to leave, and, in their fear, resigned themselves to the peril that would consume them, but a few, two women and a man, hoped to survive by fleeing.

They never made it through the main doors. Flames made their path difficult, but it was the armed men with guns trained on the entrance that took their lives.

This is their story. This is the death of knowledge and freethinking. This is what became of the librarian with the Kevlar vest.

We died, and for what?
 
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Xian Lee said:
I hope I'm not too late; I just found out about this.

For the record, I usually take a bit of a free-writing approach. Whether or not that's significant is beyond my knowledge.

This one is a little bit violent. Hopefully that won't be a huge problem. I'm not explicit in my violence, at least. It also looks kind of long. \oops/ I like how it turned out, but it might freak a bunch of people out. (I probably should have become known in the community before posting things like this, so people don't think me some psychotic madman. Oh well, here's to fate!)
Click to expand...

Welcome Xian, and no you weren't too late, just in time to make the contest deadline. :) Also don't worry about the violence in your story - it would be hardly fair for me to post guidelines revolving around a bullet-proof vest and then expect no stories with some degree of violence. :D

Free-writing or any form you might want to use is fine. The only requirements for official entries are 1) post date on or before contest due date, 2) audience-appropriate content (teens and up), 3) related in some way to contest guidelines, 4) within the word limit and 5) accompanied by at least one critique of another contestant's work. The word limit is supposed to be posted, WHICH I NEGLECTED TO DO FOR THIS CONTEST. So because I didn't mention a word limit, I won't enforce one for this contest. (Hope that doesn't make it unfair for those who already hacked theirs down to 300 words, but I think generally they improve when they're hacked down).

Feel free to post any other questions or PM me Xian, and once again welcome to the group!

Paul
 
I'm about to open up voting for this contest. Great to see so many participants! Remember, if you participated then you're responsible for posting a MEANINGFUL critique of someone else's work. Meaningful meaning it needs to go beyond just saying "nice story" or "good work" or "UR teh />wnZor<\" or whatever. If you can't think of any direct advice, simply mention a scene or character you liked and why you liked them. It's not that hard to do if ya try. ;)

Voting will take place for a week. Let's get those critiques out there so that writers can do last-minute revisions if they wish. And PLEASE vote at the end of the contest - it isn't really much of a contest if only two or three people vote.

Paul
 
I didn't see a word limit. Sorry. To be fair, you can remove my entry from the voting. Microsoft says my story is 720 words or something. I can't exactly hack that down. I put too much thought into every word used to be able to bring it down to less than 300 words. Really though, I won't mind being removed from the competition to keep it fair.

Otherwise, I'll read the other entries and comment accordingly later on today.
 
Tek'e entry critique.

Great story - it was a very believable news item. :)
Also, the details about the world surrounding the story were written in very nicely- where apparently having fun and being imaginative is bad... which fits quite well with armed librarians, imo.
(They're already taking my money - the next step is taking it at gunpoint.)

The only thing I didn't like about it was - I'll never find out how blumball is played! :(
 
Entry #6

Heh, it's still 5/1 where I live, so let's try this out:


MEMORANDUM
August 24, 2009
Southern California Regional Department of Public Libraries, Head Office

ATTN: All public library staff. Due to an alarming number of incidents involving the use and/or misuse of the "Jane's Definitive Guide to Firearms Pop-up Book" in libraries, it is required that all library staff wear protective Kevlar vests and pith helmets. Staff will now also be required to advise adults and/or children who wish to borrow this or any other "Jane's" Pop-up Books that they may contain live rounds and/or high explosives.

A recall has been issued on "Jane's Vietnam Theatre of Operations Pop-up Book" after the recent fire at the Sacramento Public Children's Library was determined to have not been an arson, as was previously suggested, but in fact the result of napalm from the Pop-up Book catching fire. Please remove all copies of "Jane's Vietnam Theatre of Operations Pop-up Book" from your shelves until further notice.

Please comply with this message immediately.

Signed,
George Bucharid --- Director of Safety, SCal Libraries.
 
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Xian Lee said:
I didn't see a word limit. Sorry. To be fair, you can remove my entry from the voting. Microsoft says my story is 720 words or something. I can't exactly hack that down. I put too much thought into every word used to be able to bring it down to less than 300 words. Really though, I won't mind being removed from the competition to keep it fair.

Otherwise, I'll read the other entries and comment accordingly later on today.
Click to expand...

Nah, yours isn't the only entry over 300 words and I neglected to specify a word limit anyway. So no word limit for this contest, no need to edit it down.

With that said though - you could get your story under 300 words - it takes work and being strategic and careful about what words you use, and where. And people don't like doing it. But the process teaches you a lot about how to focus your writing into important, relevant words and concepts.

Paul
 
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