Fortnightly Writing Contest. Theme: ANYTHING (VOTING UNTIL SEPT 30)

[Mandle]

Welcome all. In this round of the FWC you MUST choose from one of the five themes listed below:

(1) A story involving a spatula and a frypan and one of them must be able to talk.
(2) A story where exactly five ants play a pivotal role.
(3) A story where a ghost is haunted by a house.
(4) A story involving anything other than the four other themes on this list.
(5) A story about you already having gotten the joke but you kept reading anyway.

HAVE AT IT!

EDIT: NAW, the joke didn't work so now I'll just say what the theme really is, which is:

YOU CAN WRITE ABOUT ANYTHING YOU WANT TO!

("comedy is dead" being a potential theme)

[Sinitrena]

So, hm, we can write really everything?
I do like (3), though, and might actually use it. There's the tiniest idea forming in the back of my head...

[Baron]

I don't get the joke.  No wait, ha ha ha!  No wait, I still don't get it. 

[Mandle]

I don't get the joke.  No wait, ha ha ha!  No wait, I still don't get it. 

The joke was that I opened a round under the disguise that the story had to be about ridiculously specific themes but then, when you read all the way down to (4) it turns out to just be a completely open round where you can write a story about anything you like, as Sini pointed out.

[Mandle]

So, hm, we can write really everything?
I do like (3), though, and might actually use it. There's the tiniest idea forming in the back of my head...

I liked (3) myself and threw it in there for that reason.

But, yes, anyone can write about anything, as according to option (4), except for the logical flaw that Stupot pointed out to me in my joke here where it is not possible to write about something like exactly 5 ants meeting a talking frying pan and/or spatula.

But now I will wave such conflicts in the logic and just say:

WRITE ANYTHING YOU LIKE IS THE THEME OF THIS ROUND.

[Stupot]

I might actually write a story on the theme of "anything".

[Mandle]

I might actually write a story on the theme of "anything".

This makes me glad that I included that option on the list as an afterthought.

[Mandle]

How's everything going? I would hate it if my initial joke turned people off from entering the round. It was supposed to be a funny way to reveal that this round of FWC could be about whatever anyone wanted to write about, but may have looked too specifically ridiculous to people at first and they just stopped reading after option #2 or so?

Or is "Anything" just way too broad to provide inspiration?

[Sinitrena]

As I said before, I actually used one of the prompts you provided. Although the topic is too broad when you (as in, the writer) really just think anything, I think the prompts might lead to some fun stories. (Just giving Anything as the topic without any other prompts would probably not be a good idea, at least not regularly.)

Mine is done, by the way. The idea simmered in my head for a full week, and then I wrote it in 1 hour. I'll post later, once I've proofread. Writing quickly is fun, but it also leads to mistakes. 

[Stupot]

I said I was going to literally write about the topic of 'anything' but nothing (ironically) came to mind. Instead, I have written a poem on the theme of 'anywhere'.


I Know a Place Called Anywhere

I know a place we can go,
A place that has all things on show,
A place in the mountains,
A place by the sea,
A place both above and below.

I know a place we can stay,
A place we can eat, sleep and play,
A place in the middle,
A place on the edge,
To laugh, cry and roll in the hay.

I know a place we can meet,
A place far away, up the street,
A place in the sunshine,
A place in the rain,
A place in the cold and the heat.

I know a place, let's go there,
A place both secret and shared,
A place in the city,
A place in the sticks.
I know a place called anywhere.

[Sinitrena]

The Light Flickered

The light flickered again. He'd changed the bulb yesterday, but it flickered again.

The computer turned off, just like that. Or it turned on, against his will. Was it random? It never seemed to do as he wished, it never seemed to start the program he wanted, never typed the words he thought.

He sighed. He was not in the mood for troubleshooting.

A book then. Tomorrow would be a better day.

He had read it before, the book. Every book, they all seemed so similar, so familiar. He'd order others, new ones, but the computer...

He sighed again. Shopping then. He took the key from the mantle, left the house. He sighed again. He had forgotten. The car, it was stolen. Was it days ago? Weeks? Years? Why did it feel like years?

He'd have to take a taxi. Living out here, out in the sticks, what choice did he have? The bus stop was ... far away. He didn't even remember how far. It was so long since he'd taken the bus.

He turned around, wanted to open the door. He was sure he took the key, didn't he? It was not in his hands, not in his pocket. He remembered taking it, distinctively. He took the key from the mantle, left the house. It happened.

It didn't matter, the door was open. And there were his keys, on the mantle, next to the phone. The phone he wanted to use to... What again?

He sighed. Maybe the computer would obey now. So he went upstairs, into his room. Luckily his parents weren't home. They hated it when he played games all day long.

He sat down on his desk, he swivelled the chair towards the monitor. There was none. There was no monitor. But he did own a PC, didn't he? He was sure he did, he remembered it. Wasn't it just this morning, or was it yesterday, the day before? The computer turned off, just like that. Or it turned on, against his will. That was what happened. But for a computer to turn on or off, it had to exist. But it didn't.

When were his parents supposed to come home? When did it turn dark? Why weren't they here yet?

The light flickered. He should really change the bulb sometime. Why hadn't he done this yet?

He had, hadn't he? The light flickered again. He'd changed the bulb yesterday, but it flickered again. He had.

He sat on a chair, in front of a desk. Both felt strange, neither seemed familiar. New? No, old. There was a bit of cloth missing from the seat. There was squiggly writing on the tabletop, like a child's. But not his. Not his sister's either. Why buy thrifted furniture when the old one was still good? Why not tell him first?

He'd have to ask his parents, but they were still not home. When did they leave? How long ago? Where to?

There was laughter now, laughter in the halls, laughter from a child. A new neighbour perhaps? But he lived far from everybody, didn't he?

Yes, he did. He'd have to take a taxi. Living out here, out in the sticks, what choice did he have? Yes, that was correct, their house stood lonely far from everyone else. But there was a house next door. But there was a car on the porch. What car? What model was that? What year of construction?

It was not his, right? His was stolen some time ago, wasn't it? He had forgotten. The car, it was stolen. Was it days ago? Weeks? Years? Yes, that was what he remembered. And his parents weren't home, so it wasn't theirs.

Everything occurs twice in life, like a lightbulb flickering in the night. He should really change the bulb sometime. Why hadn't he done this yet?

He had, hadn't he? The light flickered again. He'd changed the bulb yesterday, but it flickered again. He had. Everything happened again. Everything repeated itself. Over and over and over again.

It was cold. The sun shone bright, shone hot. But on his skin were goosebumps. Shadows passed through him. Furniture changed, and cars, people. The world, the music, the books.

The books changed.

He tried to read them. They were no longer similar, no longer familiar. They once were, weren't they? He had read it before, the book. Every book, they all seemed so similar, so familiar. He'd order others, new ones, but the computer... This was once true, but now? Now they were different. He took one and he opened it. But the pages were empty. And the book was not in his hands.

He had taken it, hadn't he? He took one and he opened it. It happened moments ago, just moments. It must have been true, but it wasn't. It couldn't be.

It was the blank page in a book. The fact that the book wasn't even there. That drove him over the edge.

He screamed. He hit the mantle, where his keys were long gone or had never been. He took the key from the mantle, left the house. They were, but no, they weren't. They weren't there. Not even the mantle was. It was replaced some time ago, so long ago.

He hit the wall instead, the sofa, the vase on the cabinet. It fell to the ground, shattered on the carpet he had never seen before.

The light flickered, but he didn't care. He screamed. And other screams followed. When the vase broke, they joined his.

And then they were gone, and the light with them. The shards disappeared and after a while so did the carpet. A third desk had replaced the second some time ago, but this one, too, disappeared. People came and went. But the house stayed empty, because the screams never left. Because the cold never left. Because the fear never left. Because the ghost never left.

And the light never flickered again.

[Baron]

With a topic like ANYTHING my mind immediately went to My Little Pony, but I couldn't pull it off.      So here's a fairy yarn:

The Buzz About Rainbow Moon

   Rainbow Moon was not the prettiest fairy, which didn't help, and she wasn't the best with magic, which really didn't help.  She tried her best to put a brave face on these shortcomings, and she always learned from her mistakes, but somehow the fates always seemed to be stacked against her.  Try as she might, she never managed to make it far up the fiercely contested pecking order in Fairy Wood.  And thus her obsession with winning a Glitter Band.

   Her most recent run of bad-luck had started at the Dew Drop Dance, when her tight skirt had ripped up the backside as she was doing a particularly riské move.  How the other girls had laughed and giggled at her misfortune!  And then at the Midsummer Marvel Mash the grasshopper she had charmed made a complete ass of himself, bowling over the snack table and peeing in the punchbowl.  Rainbow Moon swore the other girls still made grasshopper chirping noises behind her back, but everytime she turned to catch them they were innocently prattling away to each other.  But the greatest indignity had happened last night....

   No, she would not allow herself to dwell on it.  Self-pity was like a target on one's back in Fairy Wood.  The other girls could smell the weakness, which would make their henpecking all the more viscous.  No, it was better to move on confidently.  Turn a setback into an opportunity.  She had a plan.  Sure, it reeked of desperation, but it was better than rolling over and accepting her fate of becoming the permanent butt of Fairy Wood jokes.  If she was going to go down, it would be on the race-track, not in the stands.

   But a Glitter Band - she almost salivated at the thought - a Glitter Band would solve all of her problems!  It was the ultimate status symbol, reserved only for the winners of the Raspberry Racing Romp.  Wearers of the Glitter Band demanded immediate respect, and it was the dream of every young flutter maiden to win one for herself.  If Rainbow Moon could pull off such a coup, despite her string of misfortune, then surely all would be forgiven.  There was just the little matter of beating out Fairy Wood's fastest and fittest in a battle of speed and wits.

   And that's what had brought Rainbow Moon here, to the starting ledge, in the pre-dawn twilight.  She shivered, despite the inappropriately luxurious fur coat she was wearing for the occasion.  It was glamorous, it was eye-catching, and it was vastly too heavy to be practical in a race.  But everything now depended on the sheer audacity of her plan.  She had to see it through, or all was lost.

   A tear came to her eye at the thought of loss.  Not losing the race, though that would be unfortunate - she had lost ten times before, after all.  It was a deeper loss that she mourned now.  How could she have been so stupid?!?  Scouting out the race course in the dead of night!  Carelessly she had flown right into a spider's web, and then there was a stark choice before her.  Either it was to be a slow death as a mummified monstrocity, slowly being drained of life by a sinister vampire, or it had to be a quick slice to the snared wings with her little pebble dagger.  She twitched the stumps of her wings under her coat sadly.  With charms and time they would grow back, but never as fast or as luxuriant as before.

   Which made her plan all the more foolhardy.  But now was not the time to change course.  Already the other competitors were arriving.  She could feel their eyes boring into her back, disdainfully dismissing her.  More and more fairy girls arrived, and there was laughter behind her, and the unmistakable chirping of a grasshopper, followed by louder laughter.  Rainbow Moon held her head high, letting the words roll off her like water droplets on a leaf.  She needn't have worried about them not noticing her.

   "I heard a rumour that somebody got themselves web-winged last night," said Twinkle Blossom, to the gasps of her snobbish circle.  There must have been some nodding in her direction, for soon she was swarmed by the entire racing contingent.  "Show us, show us!" they begged, giggling at the fun of it all.  Some were even so bold as to tug at her fur coat, but she clutched it tightly around herself as if to retain her last shred of dignity.  It was too soon yet, too soon....

   "Ladies!" came the sharp declaration from the Fairy Godmother that cut through the throng like a heron's beak through water.  "Take your positions!  You know that by tradition the Raspberry Racing Romp starts when the sun crests over the eastern hill!"  Rainbow Moon might be grateful for the respite, if not for the pitying sneer the Fairy Godmother gave her as she fluttered by. 

   The sky in the east was glowing pink, and the burst of dawn was nearly upon them.  The other girls spread out along the starting platform, preparing to make that all important first dash that often determined the order for the rest of the race.  Rainbow Moon squatted down and started weeping.

   "Oh, for the love of sunbeams...." the Fairy Godmother groaned, rolling her eyes.  Half the fairies on the starting line turned to look at Rainbow Moon.

   "It's true!" Rainbow Moon wailed, standing up, her face beat red, her mascara running down her cheeks.  "It's true that I got web-winged!  That's what you want to see, isn't it?  To see my little twitchy stumps that look more like squirrel eyelashes than fairy wings?  Well look all you want!"  All the fairies were now craning their necks to see, a morbid fascination overcoming their need to focus.

   And then Rainbow Moon dropped the fur coat over her shoulders, so that the rough-cut stumps of wings could be clearly seen by all.  A collective gasp went up through the crowd.  They would make fun of her in a moment or two, but for now each fairy cringed at the thought of losing her own wings. 

     Rainbow Moon let the shock set in.  Timing was everything now.  Too soon, and the shock would not have worn off.  Too late, and she would lose their attention.  The pink of the sky was so intense now - at any moment the blazing orange of the sun would burst over the eastern hill and the race would begin....

     "But I'm still here to race!" she continued proudly, stalling ever so slightly.  "That's why I've used my considerable magical talents to charm these!"  She dropped the fur coat to the ground now, revealing the two flies tethered to her belt.  There was a smirk from the crowd, and then a giggle.  Rainbow Moon said the command word, and the charmed flies began buzzing about manically on their tethers, and the very sight of this was so ridiculous that all the fairies burst out into uncontrollable fits of laughter.  They doubled over, they collapsed on each other, they wept for laughing so hard that they could barely breathe.

     "What a ditz!" Twinkle Blossom declared in an overly loud voice, and instantly all the fairy girls looked to the Fairy Godmother, for she would not tolerate such unladylike behaviour.  But the Fairy Godmother merely rolled her eyes and sighed.  "Perhaps she is," the Fairy Godmother said in her judgiest tone.  "But those flies carried that ditz off when the sun dawned two minutes ago, and the rest of you fools will have a hard time making that time up."

     It was a funny thing if you think about it, but no one laughed when Rainbow Moon won her Glitter Band.

[Mandle]

I will be closing the contest and opening voting a bit later today. Nice entries, everyone! Still a bit of time if anyone sneaks one in.

[Mandle]

VOTING IS NOW OPEN

As there are only three entries, I will go with a simple voting system of:

1st: XXXXX
2nd: XXXXX
3rd: XXXXX

1st place will get 3 points, 2nd will get 2 points, and 3rd will get 1 point.

Please send me your votes via PM before the end of the month.

Might cut the voting period short if all the regular members have voted and it seems like no more votes are likely.

[Baron]

Just to clarify, we're back to open voting here in the thread, right?  (I.e. no secret ballot via PM).

Ah, helps to read the whole post. 

And... I'm assuming we contributors can just vote for the top two (as we ourselves would be, presumably, third place)?

[Sinitrena]

It is nearly impossible to compare these two entries. One is a poem, the other prose, and topic-wise they really don't have anything in common.

Stupot:

Spoiler

A nice little poem. The structure is nearly perfect, maybe with the exception of rhyming "there" with "shared" in the last stanza. The message is also good for a poem: Every place is good for us, as long as we are together (the last part more implied than the first). It still leaves me a bit cold, overall. Maybe because a place that can be really any place feels, by concept alone, a bit generic and without all that much meaning? I really can't say. It's still my first place this round.

[close]

Baron:

Spoiler

Is this set in the same world as your stories about the more military/agressive fairies? Just curious, it doesn't really matter for the story. I liked Rainbow Moon's clever solution for her problem and the very well-timed execution of said solution. Apparently, her trick is not considered cheating, because she wins in the end, but is everything allowed in this race? Then why doesn't anyone else use more underhanded tactics?

[close]

Again, because both entries were so different and had no real point of comparision, and because they were both good in their own right, I found it very difficult to decide (and it feels a bit like I just flipped a coin, because I changed my opinion multiple times).

[Mandle]

And... I'm assuming we contributors can just vote for the top two (as we ourselves would be, presumably, third place)?

Yes, correct. Entrants automatically have their own story in 3rd place and score one point for it. Seems a bit redundant but I kept it that way in the unlikely chance that someone other than us votes.

[Baron]

Quick reads this time around.      Feedback is hidden below.

Spoiler

@ Stupot: Ah, the tried and tested limerick.  Fairly well metered and rhymed -a skilled reader could make it work out loud.  The central message is strong - despite the differences of specific places the important thing is that we do these actions together (and thus the place itself doesn't really matter, it could be anywhere).  I think something to work on is reconciling the contrasts that take up most of your verses (sunshine or rain, city or sticks, etc.) with the central theme, which seems for me to lose importance by only being mentioned once at the very end.  Perhaps it would be a stronger piece if anywhere was a running theme?

@ Sinitrena: I feel like a ghost whose mind has been messed with just trying to read your story!  The confusion is palpable as reality blurs with memory.  It's an interesting idea that ghosts who cling to a half-life also cling to memories like a person suffering from Alzheimers dementia.  You paint a hellish picture of someone confined within a frozen memory of life and the people who try to make his space their own, all the while making each other's "lives" completely miserable.  I'm not sure I got much closure from your final line: even if the people stopped moving in, the ghost still seems to be stuck in his rut. Overall it was an impactful story, if not enjoyable.

[close]

As for questions about my story and the legality of bending the rules for the Raspberry Racing Romp, I think kind of like pod-racing the only rules are the law of the jungle.  But of course this could have been better explained in the story.... 

[Sinitrena]

I'm not sure I got much closure from your final line

Well, you're not supposed to; if anything, this line should increase the dispair you should feel for the ghost. So, thank you! 

[Ponch]

Voted!
Good reads all around (and an unexpected bit of verse!).