Writing challenge for OCTOBER

dorkelf

dorkelf

Active Member
I was going to wait for October, but there's no good reason not to go ahead and get started!!

This thread is now in the SUBMISSIONS phase. Please do not post critiques or comments until I post that it has entered the CRITIQUE phase.

The story idea: Your character had to lose one of the following three things: work, social life, sleep. What did he/she choose and what are the consequences of this choice?

Your story must be no more than 300 words. Its a good idea to let yourself write a longer story and then cut it down to 300 words. This process will teach you a lot about how to get your ideas across to the reader...and how to eliminate ideas that are not necessary to your story.

The time to write is now! Support the cgalliance writing community with your participation! I'm looking forward to seeing the ideas you come up with!
 
I wrote the first draft of this on the day you announced the contest then it took me considerably longer to actually edit it down to size.

Time is the most valuable commodity in this life, I would trade anything for but a little more of it. Days without sleep and everything becomes oversaturated like an overexposed roll of film. Days melt into long stretches of unrecognizable moments. In one of these moments, neither awake nor asleep, I subside in my office chair.

The dim light overhead is like a sunlamp and I feel like a bag of chicken left under for too long. Sheer force of will keeps my eyes open as I stare at the screen. The numbers perform summersaults, shaking my head I take another sip of coffee. Something in my life has to give, I can feel it in my bones, but to the end I shall fight.

Just a little more work before I’m free. Not that I will find the solace of sleep, cycling at dawn, writing all afternoon, on the town as long as my heart holds out. One more report until the weekend, one weekend closer to death.

The numbers stop dancing. First check for errors, add another chart, Arial ten point just as he likes. Finished I stumble to the printer and drop it in the box. Around the corner I skulk, trying to avoid detection.

The heavy footsteps, like a soldier marching to battle, alert me to his presence. To the floor I dive, crawling down the opposite hallway toward the exit like an inmate escaping from my prison.

“Have you seen Robert?” My bosses voice echoes. “I need him to work this weekend.”

Out the back door I flee into my car. The sun disappears like sand through the hourglass of my wasted life. I watch until it disappears smiling at my triumphant escape and then the horror dawns on me, time for my night job.
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This is my entry: it's a bit rough. It's also exactly 300 words long.

The earsplitting call of the Somalian rooster yanked her out of her reverie.

She knew it was a Somalian rooster instinctively, although she had never been to Somalia and had never heard a real rooster before.
Her eyes struggled open, fighting desperately against the cloying blankets of sleep that threatened to do her in. It had been eighteen nights, seventeen days since she last slept.

The earsplitting sound of the English hunting horn yanked her out of her reverie. Fitting.

The white headphones that tethered her head to her iPhone were her lifeline. On the phone, an app searched for alarming sounds, playing them to keep her awake.
She travelled the world, always hunting, seeking. Each person she met, her mind sifted through their ideas and memories, through dreams and things that they knew, searching for answers, piecing them together.

The earsplitting, rousing organ ditty yanked her out of her reverie. It made her smile.

She was Canadian. Which was a way of saying she was white. In reality, her family had been in Canada only forty years. But because of her skin, she was called Canadian. Not Ethiopian, like the man three seats down, whose family settled in Montreal two hundred years prior. She had discovered this perspective after glancing at a Georgian priest.
She had discovered other things: how to strengthen marriages against infidelity; how a child could become a teenager and then an adult without ever feeling alone; other things – what her father would call practical things. She was three ideas away from curing cancer. She had solutions, albeit partial ones, for poverty and parental abuse. She had enough ideas about life to fill a lifetime of books. Enough bad ideas on romancing to stun a yak.

Until she slept. Then she would forget it all again.
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Disclaimer: I don't pretend that this is real in any way. I'm not advocating psychic powers or suggesting a transcendent collective intelligence.
 
I walked away from a worm.
True I recognize the validity of job history but if I detail just one reason maybe it will prove stats to be one sided.

I arrive early in hopes for needed employment and score a position on truck U-32 where I found three men loitering. I introduced myself and a man raised his hand and said “Load up son we’re burning daylight!”

A quiet ride until the man introduced the other two and established he was a pastor and asked if I attended church, then heedless to my reply invited me to his church which I declined.
Silence ensued to the work site where upon arrival the man slapped a hard hat on me with “WORM” boldly plastered across the front, pointed to a rig hose swaying four foot above the deck with instructions to hold that hose up and steady. I silently held that hose all day with three short breaks followed by a soundless ride home.

The next day came with the same invitation resulting to the same hose except at shifts end the invitation brought a raise.

My final day I held the hose in the rain while they watched TV in a hut. At days end I’m offered a higher raise upon accepted invite which provoked me to hand the man his hard hat stating that I’m more than a worm and I walked away.

The funny result of this is the same day I picked up another hose but not as a worm rather as a city firefighter.

Maybe you can see that work history can be one sided and why I feel I walked away from spineless worm.
 
Halloween

I might had recognized the genie as the real deal, except it was Halloween and I’d gotten a very late start and I was trick-or-treating in a neighborhood where adults tend to dress up in very fancy costumes. My own ‘Count Dracula’ costume had started falling apart as I ran across the row of empty houses towards the last occupied ones on the block. A steady drizzle had saturated the duct-taped cape, loosening the tape’s adhesive and increasing the weight of the fabric until it finally flapped off. I kept running, determined to make at least the first mansion-like house before the porch lights went out and the party was over.

“TRICK OR TREAT!!” The genie simply stared at me. I realized why. It was my costume. My poor, pitiful excuse for a costume. “I’M SORRY!” I yelled, more angry at myself than the rich guy staring at me. “I WISH I COULD AFFORD A REAL COSTUME, BUT I CAN’T. JUST FORGET THE CANDY!”

“Ok, your wish is granted,” said the Genie, gently closing the door.

That was it for me, it wasn’t worth this humiliation, even to get actual real candy that my parents could rarely afford. I was near tears but my anger kept me together until I made it back home.

“Roger!” my mom called when I woke up the next morning. “You’d better take a quick shower, you’ll be late for work!”

Work? What work? I didn’t have a job, I was a 15 year old kid, I had friends and video games and homework. And yet…the next moment…it seemed perfectly natural. Of course I had a job. A well-paying yet very time consuming job! There would be plenty of candy in my future. As much as I could eat during a 15 minute break!
 
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Critique Stage

This thread is now in the CRITIQUE and VOTING stage. In order to vote for an entry, you need to read it and then write a short critique. You may vote for multiple entries or just your favorite. Whichever entry has the most critiques will be the WINNER!

A good critique contains a few things within a shot paragraph or two:

  • What you liked about the story
  • Any specific story elements that enhanced your enjoyment
  • Any specific elements that interfered with your enjoyment
  • Suggestions for specific ways the story can be improved

A good critique avoids these things:

  • Non-constructive comments, whether positive or negative. "I liked it, you've got my vote!" ISN'T constructive and ISN'T a critique. :)
  • Completely rewriting someone's story. Its fine to rewrite a sentence or two to demonstrate a suggested approach or technique.

One final note for OVERSENSITIVE writers (yes I'm talking to you!) You MAY respond to a critique of your story, but please understand that defensive responses WILL discourage others from critiquing your writing in the future. You need to encourage and welcome HONEST feedback, so I recommend you take critiques for what they are...someone's opinions...not an indictment of your writing. This is an ESSENTIAL skill for all writers to develop.
 
Critique: Exo-Slayer

This made for an EXCELLENT start to our writing contest, I was very happy the day that you posted it! It is a very atmospheric piece, good use of descriptive language but I think its a bit too much description vs action unless you want to take it to the point of being surrealistic.

Time is the most valuable commodity in this life, I would trade anything for but a little more of it. Days without sleep and everything becomes oversaturated like an overexposed roll of film. Days melt into long stretches of unrecognizable moments. In one of these moments, neither awake nor asleep, I subside in my office chair.
Click to expand...

Oversaturated/overexposed/days melt is great imagery and your reader can identify well with the feeling.

The dim light overhead is like a sunlamp and I feel like a bag of chicken left under for too long. Sheer force of will keeps my eyes open as I stare at the screen. The numbers perform summersaults, shaking my head I take another sip of coffee. Something in my life has to give, I can feel it in my bones, but to the end I shall fight.
Click to expand...

I'd start this paragraph with more action and I'd use terser sentence structure in subsequent paragraphs to make it move along. "Sheer force of will keeps my eyes open. I blink, shake my head, take another sip of coffee...my eyes keep blinking shut...something has to give...my eyes close...how long? 'HAVE YOU SEEN ROBERT?" Adrenaline throws me bolt upright...'

Out the back door I flee into my car. The sun disappears like sand through the hourglass of my wasted life. I watch until it disappears smiling at my triumphant escape and then the horror dawns on me, time for my night job.
Click to expand...

Good ending, I can definitely feel his pain! I like "the sun disappears like sand", that is really great imagery once again. One last comment, I recommend starting more of your sentence with subject/verb, for example "I flee out the back door into my car" instead of "out the back door I flee..."

Enjoyed the story, thanks for sharing it!
 
Critique: Nerai the Forgiven

Neirai, your story was a very skillful attempt to do something that is very difficult to do in 300 words. Heck its difficult to do at all. I think you are largely successful. At least you grabbed and held my interest entirely and that's hard to do even for 300 words!

The biggest struggle I had, even after a few re-readings, is 'seeing' your story in my mind. And your character. In your first part, when you say she had never been to Somalia...I imagine she is a white anglo chick. You seem to confirm that later in the story. But then again, maybe she is a different person every time she emerges from her 'reverie'? That's something I couldn't entirely figure out. I'd rather her be the same person, and someone who is definable...who has hair that looks like this, who is this age...I'm on the verge of 'caring' for her as as person, but I don't quite make the connection. Also, later you mention her father but don't give any clue about who he is or why he's mentioned. I want to know! :)

Neirai the Forgiven said:
She was three ideas away from curing cancer. She had solutions, albeit partial ones, for poverty and parental abuse. She had enough ideas about life to fill a lifetime of books. Enough bad ideas on romancing to stun a yak.

Until she slept. Then she would forget it all again.
Click to expand...


Fantastic ending, in a roundabout way it makes the reader reflect on all the 'could have beens' in life. "Enough bad ideas on romancing to stun a yak" is a great line! :D
 
Critique: Slim (Dale)

Dale, your story is chilling. I didn't really get it the first time I read it. I even started to critique it the wrong way. I think you need to make it sink in a little faster on the first read. Part of the problem is the imagery of the opening paragraph. I was imagining your character literally walking away from a worm, which in my weird brain was like one of those sandworms of Dune, but for most readers it won't make sense. I would avoid this expression. Your story stands well without any need for the worm imagery...if you do use it, it needs to be more pervasive and carefully applied. Also I still do not understand what 'the validity of job history' and 'prove stats to the one sided' means. But moving past that...

A quiet ride until the man introduced the other two and established he was a pastor and asked if I attended church, then heedless to my reply invited me to his church which I declined.
Silence ensued to the work site where upon arrival the man slapped a hard hat on me with “WORM” boldly plastered across the front, pointed to a rig hose swaying four foot above the deck with instructions to hold that hose up and steady. I silently held that hose all day with three short breaks followed by a soundless ride home.
Click to expand...

The 'quiet' ride becomes cold silence when your character realizes he could keel over dead and his good Christian employers would probably dump his body out the side of the truck and curse all the way back until they found another schmoe to do the work. Its a tense and difficult moment.

The next day came with the same invitation resulting to the same hose except at shifts end the invitation brought a raise.

My final day I held the hose in the rain while they watched TV in a hut. At days end I’m offered a higher raise upon accepted invite which provoked me to hand the man his hard hat stating that I’m more than a worm and I walked away.
Click to expand...

The matter of fact detailing of the story does help the reader feel the inhumanity of your character's situation. However it would be nice to experience a few of his thoughts and feelings while standing in the rain. It might be a good opportunity to tell the reader more about who he is, why he needs the money, why he is doing day labor, etc. Not easy in 300 words though!

The funny result of this is the same day I picked up another hose but not as a worm rather as a city firefighter.
Click to expand...

This could be a very satisfying outcome, but it feels a bit "Deus Ex Machina". In other words, everything just works out good, without any clear reason why. Again you run into the 300 word problem if you try to elaborate...but how the heck did this fellow get a job as a firefighter on the same day? :rolleyes:

Thanks for the story Dale, as always I do enjoy reading your writing.
 
cc.slim

I find this story to be quite realistic. While it's pared down to 300 words, it leaves just enough hooks to snag the imagination and through that immersion, it makes the story plausible and therefore gives it staying power.

I realize that as an English major, my critique may seem like more of an explication of your story than a critique. So be it.

The setting seems to be an interview for a job. The speaker has been asked about a 3-day job on his or her resume. The story seems to be the explanation of what happens.

There's a quality to the story that seems almost autobiographical. If it is or it isn't, it is still no small feat to make it sound like it is. This sounds like something that could really have happened to someone; a bum job with some condescending religious types who see others as less then them.

There's just enough ambiguity to make it imaginative, too. Is he a Christian himself or not? We're not told.

Like dorkelf, I did find that the worm imagery -- other than on the helmet -- was more or less jarring. I'd have cut it out of the story altogether, except for the helmet.

Overall, a great read.
 
Thanks for writing! I truly enjoyed all and my favorite was Exo_Slayer's! His hit truth right away and by his creativity with descriptions. The other posts tho written well seemed hidden until the endings.

Slim's notes: Chickens waking people early makes good soup hehehe and duct tape holds every thing baling wire can't and worms make great bait. wOOt! Thanks all!
 
Wow its November already. Sorry I disappeared my Mom is in the hospital. I liked all the posts but I really enjoyed your story Neirai.

It was quite engaging and definitely felt like the introduction to a much larger work. The only critique I might make is it feels like there is just too much for a piece of flash fiction. You barely get beyond an introduction to the concept and the character without much actually happening, not much of a setting, no real conflict just the basic premise.

This isn’t really any lacking on your part but more that this piece feels meant for a longer narrative like a short story or a novella. I like it for what it is and I really enjoyed the ending line. You really feel the characters loss and the effort she puts into staying awake.
 
Reminder: This contest will conclude on Monday 11/30

If you have been meaning to post your short critique, please post it before then. Although the thread will remain open, critiques will only count as a vote through 11/30. Thanks to all who have contributed and participated!

Paul
 
Sorry for the delay in posting the results. This contest was a three way tie between Nerai, Exo-Slayer an cc.slim. I felt like this was a really great start and I greatly appreciate the three of you for getting the ball rolling. Lets all encourage aspiring writers we know to come and join this forum and participate in the writing contest. It will be good for them and good for us! :)

Paul
 
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