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Muaddib
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 Posted: Sat Jul 09, 2005 7:18 am Post subject: |
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| How bout keeping the name: City of IF Vignettes Contest?
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saxon215
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| Posted: Sat Jul 09, 2005 10:23 pm Post subject: |
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| uhhh nah i still like the LARD
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Smee
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| Posted: Sun Jul 10, 2005 5:15 am Post subject: |
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I don't think LARD would be useful for attracting new people to the competition.
I think Powers idea of having the month in the name would work.
_________________
The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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saxon215
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| Posted: Sun Jul 10, 2005 5:26 am Post subject: |
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aww, yeah true i just wanted to say D won the LARD award
how about i change my name to the linear story recognition award
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Sun Jul 10, 2005 6:05 pm Post subject: |
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Having the month in the linear stories contest subject line might be nice, as would starting a new thread with each new contest. This thread could be locked after this contest, and a new one started by the next author taking the belt. Then the polls could be started by Random at the appropriate time, and the month on the poll thread match the month on the contest topic. It would be simpler for intrested authors to find the contest, and voters to associate the two threads.
I still think moving the best linear stories competition to the city auditorium would attract more attention to that particular honor, though, and agree with Smee that the LARDs would be a very unfortunate name. I intended that as a laugh, although as you said saxon, witnessing the first awarding of the coveted LARD might be humorous (esp if applied to D-Lotus as you suggested). 8)
_________________
The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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saxon215
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| Posted: Mon Jul 11, 2005 12:10 am Post subject: |
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i'l;l ask key wether he would be kind enough to put a best linear story award in the honnor roll
(we can always give D the LARD award for being the only IF memebr to even beat me for an extended period of time in number of posts  )
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Mon Jul 11, 2005 12:39 am Post subject: |
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You could call it the LARAs- Linear Author Recognition Award. Better than LARDs, at any rate. I think if some writers were encouraged by success in a linear story, then they might be coaxed into authoring a storygame.
_________________
The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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saxon215
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| Posted: Mon Jul 11, 2005 12:55 am Post subject: |
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| lol and i always though a chicks name would suit D better, altho i suppose i would have gone with Deeanna
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Tue Jul 19, 2005 6:52 pm Post subject: |
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Remote
The television flickered once, twice, then winked one last time before eerily glowing in the darkened room. A sudden silence fell like an oppressive and smothering blanket on the compact home. The humming sounds of the refrigerator, the central heat, the buzzing diaphragms of an aquarium air pump, abruptly ceased. One last knock at the door interrupted this unusual silence as the utilities worker made another attempt to ascertain if anyone was home, before attaching a cut-off notice on the door and returning to his vehicle.
Shelby Hawkins sighed in the half-light filtering in through the windows, oblivious to the sudden cessation of electric power. Miles away, he observed a couple on a private sandy beach of Florida, basking nude in the afternoon sun. He ran an incorporeal hand along the inner thigh of the woman, and for a perverse moment indulged an even more taboo sensation as he rubbed his fingers across the bronzed backside of the man. As typical, the couple failed to notice Shelby’s ghostly presence, and he watched in voyeuristic delight as they quenched their passion on a large terry towel.
Remote viewing had become more than a notion for Shelby. After the university studies, he had continued the relaxation exercises and the solemn meditations that freed his thoughts from the confines of his flesh. With painstaking care he had documented his every excursion to other locales, determined to prove the validity of the experiences. Sometime during it all, between the fifth and sixth volume of his personal notebook, he had wanted more.
The reality of viewing strangers in distant places proved more enticing than his present life, so he had stopped showing at work without notice, and discontinued phone service. He filmed his adventures, but the only visible affect that method of documentation captured was his still form drifting into a meditative state. Shelby wanted to touch the strangers he viewed in these instances, and he wanted them to acknowledge his presence. That was when he discovered the couple that lived in the sumptuous beach house in Florida.
The bulk of his experiences consisted of brief images, sensations of structures or ill-formed ideas of foreign people and distant surroundings. He had written all these down in painstaking detail. Over the course of time, his outings had grown lengthier, and the images clearer inside his mind’s eye. On the night of September 17th he had drifted into his remote viewer’s state, and encountered the woman on the beach. Her form was sharp and distinct, and she was beautiful. He had watched her until his own body called him back to urinate. It took him three weeks to find her again.
His perseverance paid off when he recognized the sliding glass doors of the house, opening onto the private expanse of sand bathed by the caress of the ocean. The woman had exited through those doors, and drifted past Shelby. Her hair sparkled in the sun, washed by its rays to a brassy red glow and streaked with the occasional grey of age. She had looked in Shelby’s direction and delicate lines had creased the corners of her eyes when she smiled. For one heart-stopping moment he thought she had seen him standing there, but then the man had walked through Shelby’s insubstantial form to join the woman on the beach.
He was much younger than the woman, close to Shelby’s age, with the same sun-kissed bronze skin as the woman, and a sleek mass of thick black hair. The mismatched couple had embraced and kissed there on the sand, and once free of their clothes they had entered the cold crystalline waters a brief while. Upon returning to the beach, the couple had then ignited the white sands with their ardent love, and Shelby had been unable to tear his eyes from the passionate scene. All this he carefully documented once his mind returned to his ramshackle house.
By late November, he found his way daily to the isolated beach in Florida, and with remarkable ease. He didn’t notice or care that the stack of unpaid bills on his kitchen table mounted, or that his last shower had taken place in mid-October. Aside from a few hasty snacks on stale crackers and expired lunchmeat, Shelby remained in a meditative state. Often toileting was neglected, and he could now ignore those urges his body sent into the mind to void the bladder or evacuate the bowel, and such necessary functions would occur spontaneously without his conscious consent. This did not trouble him. He had found that he could not only see this beautiful pair on the beach, he could feel them if he touched them with his imagined hand!
On the sixth of December Shelby entered his last comment into the carefully kept notebook. He intended to make the couple aware of his presence. He wanted them to know he was there sharing in their idyllic lives, but most of all he wanted to touch these people as they lay naked on the beach, and to experience their responsive pleasure at his familiar touch. Surely they must know that he had watched them, caressed them, loved them every day for the past few months? That was where Shelby stood when the technician from the utility had knocked at his door.
The muted chill of the Florida winter drove the couple from the beach and into the house. Shelby followed, speaking softly into the woman’s ear. Still no acknowledgement or response. As the day progressed, he tried shouting and even moving trinkets or furniture. The shouts went unheard, and his insubstantial hands could not manipulate the surroundings. He would not admit defeat.
He watched the steady breathing of the man and woman as they slept, and repeated his activities the subsequent day. Eventually he lost count of the days that passed in this manner. His mood alternated between delight and frustration, and finally Shelby realized that he felt more than a little tired. As the man and woman sat quietly in the house, listening to the smooth sounds of soft jazz, Shelby decided to indulge a small rest. He no longer knew how to return to his body, so he allowed his mind to drift into sleep as he imagined lying on the couple’s bed.
Shelby Hawkins’ sister discovered his body when she paid a holiday visit. Her wrapped presents scattered on the floor, she had called the hospital although she knew from first sight that her brother no longer lived. She was told later that he had frozen in the early part of December, most likely the day after his electric had been terminated. Apparently he hadn’t moved from his recliner or tried to cover himself for warmth. He had simply sat in the chair oblivious to the cold, until death claimed him. His sister boxed his carefully penned volumes of notes, and stored them in the basement.
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Key
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| Posted: Tue Jul 19, 2005 8:43 pm Post subject: |
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| I liked that one, ethereal. It was sad...
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saxon215
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| Posted: Tue Jul 19, 2005 10:18 pm Post subject: |
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| first one i'vbe read and i liked it alot
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Reiso
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| Posted: Wed Jul 20, 2005 2:35 am Post subject: |
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Some amazing writing going on here, real cream of the crop stuff. I have to make a point to check this out more often. It's been brought up that there aren't enough linear stories, and I agree, so I will (to directly steal Key's own words), throw my hat in as well, at least with a shot at a regular short story. I don't know if I am going to try for the belt or not, but will definitely toss something in the mix.
The City is evolving and moving forward so quickly that despite working on a storygame and being a moderator, I am starting to feel like a stranger here again. If I'm not careful, I'll get left behind, but there is so much writing to do... eh, gripe gripe gripe.
My Reviews, in concentrate. Add water and elaboration; stir.
Painting is an excellent metaphor for taking control of your life.
God is convenient to blame for our problems - are we so irresponsible? God is convenient to praise for our victories - are we so unworthy of credit for our own efforts?
And I agree with Key on the last one, it is very sad - so much so that the sadness is almost tangible.
_________________
Sector 17 -- Rebuilding... ... ...
In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter--bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter
And because it is my heart." -- Stephen Crane
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Wed Jul 20, 2005 2:54 am Post subject: |
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Thanks guys...but was it sad enough to make you cry? :wink:
_________________
The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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saxon215
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| Posted: Wed Jul 20, 2005 2:58 am Post subject: |
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| man i could never compete with you guys this stuff in exvelent
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Reiso
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| Posted: Wed Jul 20, 2005 3:25 am Post subject: |
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Nope, but I'm a tough nut to crack in the crying Dept. It's not really a tough guy thing either, it's more that I internalize a lot. There has been one movie, and two books that got me blubberin' like a babe, and I ain't telling more than they involved the senseless deaths of animals.
I think it's because they don't even understand why a thing is happening to them, or even what it is sometimes, but it's probably mostly my affinity for fuzzy things. But the atrocities that humans commit against themselves and each other? They should know better.
Screw 'em.
_________________
Sector 17 -- Rebuilding... ... ...
In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter--bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter
And because it is my heart." -- Stephen Crane
Last edited by Reiso on Wed Jul 20, 2005 11:09 pm; edited 1 time in total
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saxon215
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| Posted: Wed Jul 20, 2005 3:51 am Post subject: |
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i agree with you there
life is such a precious thing and i was looking after someones child when they asked me is life wqssted on animals because theyn cant apreciate it and i rmeber thinking life is wasteed on humans because we have the power to apreciate it and dont and we ruin eachothers lives senselessly
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| Posted: Tue Jul 26, 2005 10:46 am Post subject: |
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Hi All,
I'm going to leave the contest open until Wendesday. Then there will be the editing process and the poll will go up by Friday. On Moday we will announce this month's winner and hopefully by next Tuesday or Wednesday we will have a new topic!
So you have one more day to get your stories in!
Good luck to all!
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Tue Jul 26, 2005 11:39 am Post subject: |
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Wonderful! I hope we have a couple more authors slide a last minute entry under the door.
*Looks lovingly at the belt one last time before it goes back up for grabs*
_________________
The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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saxon215
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| Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2005 4:06 am Post subject: |
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| hahahaa
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Smee
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| Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2005 4:19 am Post subject: |
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What happened to the poll and recent posts?
_________________
The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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Fauna
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| Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2005 5:19 am Post subject: |
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| Smee wrote: | | What happened to the poll and recent posts? |
They are Here love... they haven't disappeared. 
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Smee
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| Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2005 7:39 am Post subject: |
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Ah - the dangers of using 'new posts' and being distracted at work - I don't notice what forum I'm in.  
_________________
The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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| Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2005 3:01 am Post subject: |
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| Fauna wrote: | | Smee wrote: | | What happened to the poll and recent posts? |
They are Here love... they haven't disappeared. |
HAH i KNEW there was SOMETHING going on BETWEEN smee and fauna
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Phang
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| Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2005 12:42 pm Post subject: |
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| saxon215 wrote: | | Fauna wrote: | | Smee wrote: | | What happened to the poll and recent posts? |
They are Here love... they haven't disappeared. |
HAH i KNEW there was SOMETHING going on BETWEEN smee and fauna |
You've only just realised?
*begins cloning more Incubi-Smees for Fauna, hoping the evil-hating do-gooder magic people (*cough*Storm and IM*cough*) won't kill them all and break Fauna's heart*
_________________
Stuff here
Da Huuuuub
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saxon215
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| Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2005 7:56 pm Post subject: |
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| oh no i knew i just needed proof
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Sun Jul 31, 2005 5:26 am Post subject: |
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Saxon dear, there's nothing going on! Phang honey, your Incubi-Smees are truly impressive, but I must say everyones imaginations are getting away from them! 
Drat, now I've become familiar with saxon and Phang...people will start gossiping. 
_________________
The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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| Posted: Wed Aug 03, 2005 11:48 am Post subject: |
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New Challenge Time! WHOO HOO!
This challenge will remain open until August 24th. That gives you three weeks to complete a story and submit it for editing and review! On Agust 25th, the poll will go up and on the 29th the new winner will be annunced.
Edit: Since this has had such little discussion I'm going to change the genre from Humor to whatever genre you prefer to write.
Topic: Gary, a plumber from the Bronx is mistaken as someone extremely famous. Who he is mistaken for and why are all up to you.
Word Length: 1400
Best of luck to you all! Feel free to ask any clarification questions you have!
Last edited by Random on Tue Aug 09, 2005 8:04 am; edited 1 time in total
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| Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2005 7:41 pm Post subject: |
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| woah i cant wait to read these new ones
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| Posted: Tue Aug 09, 2005 8:04 am Post subject: |
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Please note there has been a change in the contest for this month.
Thanks!
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Tue Aug 09, 2005 8:20 am Post subject: |
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Change noted, but mine will still probably be humor.
_________________
The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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| Posted: Tue Aug 09, 2005 1:30 pm Post subject: |
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I'm really hoping will give it a try. Humopr can be the biggest challenge of all and I became concerned that it might scare some folks away.
My entry will also be in the humor genre but I want anyone who wishes to join in the fun
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Smee
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| Posted: Tue Aug 09, 2005 1:36 pm Post subject: |
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I really want to enter this month - it's been ages since I've managed to get an entry in.
If I do manage it, I will be attempting humour as well - although if that is the case I can't read any of the other entrys before otherwise the same jokes will be stuck in my head. 
Happy Writing
_________________
The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Tue Aug 09, 2005 2:18 pm Post subject: |
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| Smee wrote: | | I really want to enter this month - it's been ages since I've managed to get an entry in. |
I hope you do as well. 
*looks forward to a Smee story*
It would be nice to have quite a few more entries this month. Last time we only had three entries, but I'd like to see more. These short stories are generally very creative, and fun to read. Maybe Key will be enticed to submit another tale as well.
_________________
The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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saxon215
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| Posted: Tue Aug 09, 2005 10:44 pm Post subject: |
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i cant wait to see what kind of humour people use dry whit, slapsatick, sarcasmic, ironic, balsamic, oh waitn thats a type of vineager
anyway get writting so i can get reading
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saxon215
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| Posted: Mon Aug 15, 2005 2:06 am Post subject: |
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| yeah i think humour will be quite hartd but a nice attempt
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Smee
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| Posted: Mon Aug 15, 2005 4:04 am Post subject: |
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NOTLD223:
I don't think your chapter should go here. This is the linear story competition and you need to write about Gary the Plumber from the Bronx - yours definately doesn't seem to be that.
Sax - can you move it to his own thread or delete as appropriate?
Happy Writing.
_________________
The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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saxon215
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| Posted: Mon Aug 15, 2005 4:06 am Post subject: |
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| ummmm yeah i know hoiw tom do that, oooh big red button
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ethereal_fauna
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Joined: 16 Feb 2005
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| Posted: Mon Aug 15, 2005 4:37 am Post subject: |
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| Smee wrote: | NOTLD223:
I don't think your chapter should go here. This is the linear story competition and you need to write about Gary the Plumber from the Bronx - yours definately doesn't seem to be that.
Sax - can you move it to his own thread or delete as appropriate?
Happy Writing. |
Actually, I think that the submission addressed the very first linear comp topic, the grizzled old warrior Felix. Perhaps this thread should be split from Random's post of the current comp topic, and titled something along the lines of: August's Linear Stories Competition. Just my thoughts.
_________________
The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Smee
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| Posted: Mon Aug 15, 2005 6:14 am Post subject: |
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Ah - I knew the name Felix meant something - I felt the ringing of memory bells but couldn't place it.
Bad luck NOTLD - well done for joining in. It's finally made us realise how confusing this thread must be for a new person.
You are right Fauna - we need to split out the latest challenge into a new thread.
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The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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The Powers That Be
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Joined: 19 May 2005
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| Posted: Mon Aug 15, 2005 6:31 am Post subject: |
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| ethereal_fauna wrote: | | Perhaps this thread should be split from Random's post of the current comp topic, and titled something along the lines of: August's Linear Stories Competition. Just my thoughts. |
What a fabulous idea!
I wish somebody had thought of that earlier!
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Abduction! is in the Stasis Hall, but read it anyway!
Got a problem? Write to Dear Dotty!
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