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chelydra
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Back again, because I feel I need to get this over with entirely before I can focus on cartoons or lunch, and because I want to get myself out of the way before ohhellnowiforgothisohnothatwasitworkingoutaname takes over (I really do forget every time, and then the name is on another page I can't see while writing).
(I alternate between addressing authors directly and addressing the other readers in what follows, which is probably annoying, but it seems my self-indulgent annoyingness is the paradoxical secret of my success as a (dis)organizer of groups, including this challenge, disastrous though it may be in other situations, so I won't bother editing.)
Ladyhwin,
Loved your second shorter story, still didn't get into the first (finding it hard to read new stuff at present). Easily could have been the winner of a less explosive challenge. You gotta settle for the Really Good Sport Award - I think any normal personal (which you clearly must not be) would have kicked up a fuss or let a hint of resentment show between the lines after such ill-treatment!
five:
My response to five's truly epic participation can be found here:
 http://www.thinkdraw.com/picture.php?pictureId=24449
...and a day earlier on another old picture:
"I didn't realizentil now, despite all our discussions, and despite glancing at your screeds on myartspace etc, that your writing could be as wildly original and uncompromising as your TD pix."
In my two years-plus of overt and shameless five-fandom here, I've never really been able to understand anything you do, and that was certainly true of most of these writings. It would appear that the mystery is part of your appeal, maybe a big part, because I can always sense a powerful intellect humming away, apparently operating at some level I can't follow (too high, too low, or maybe just too sideways, tilted at too odd an angle). Roughly half of what what you produce just leaves me scratching my head, a lot of the rest I just kind of appreciate in a bemused way, but what gets to me really really gets to me, and that was more true now than ever before. To tell the truth, you were leading Mum's second story by a nose or two for much of the last day, but you know what they say about sharing a stage with children or dogs—I knew those little devils were gonna snatch the trophy somehow no matter how hard I tried to hand it to you, and the MumClan really did have the trophy firmly in hand until I realized that the trophy they had (or were about to have) wasn't the trophy that really counted, which had already been awarded irrevokably. As for five, she gets the Humming Intellect Award.
Marg (her unfolding contributions adding up to another heroic epic) got some extremely positive public reactions from me along the way because I didn't realize her work was going to end up eligible in the end, and I guess there's not much to add, beyond wishing you a happy one-day annversary of course, and regretting that no one but me seems to be around to celebrate, but I want you to know that I am... I'll be gone later when people are showing up, but workingoutaname will probably be delighted to help you celebrate day two, day three, etc., as long you show respect for his word-counts. Party on! Incidentally, when I had another (third) look at your first zany little contribution, I saw it really was every bit as silly as you insisted it was and as I'd thought it was at first glance — and yet I see no reason to take back any of the madly enthusiastic weighty praise I heaped upon its frail little form. I hope you realize that your One Day Of Good Behavior Award is not to be sneezed at, and I hope everyone else gives it and you the respect you've earned through redemptive hard work.
As midnightpoet put it, both five and marg were on fire, getting hotter and brighter as that last day went on.
About Mum I'll just add that Story Number Two did exactly what the "short short story" form is supposed to do, pack its punch in the last sentence - in this case the last word, - which then resonates back up through all that preceded it, turning the whole thing in a surprisingly big and heavy bell that echoes in the air long after the impact. There's already an O. Henry Award, but you can have a counterfeit one from me and I wouldn't be surprised if your story could get the genuine article if you sent it in after some minimal tweaking and polishing, despite its being written to the specs here.
Marius,
My ability to give new entries the attention they deserve was flagging badly when your last-minute story arrived, so I used the wrong word-count as an excuse to set it aside after a cursory glance. I see now it's quite magical, and I'll have to read it several more times to make sense of it. (I laugh at jokes three days after hearing them; my not getting it yet is about me not you.) Since you so adroitly transformed our noble wollf/werewolf into a wooly worm of all things, it's the Gregor Sampsa Most Humiliating Metamorphorisis of the Year Award for you. Call it the Kafka Award if you want it to look more pretigious on your mantlepiece.
Mdawrcn,
I thought you might be getting the Joyce Kilmer Arboreal Essay Prize, but your response to this topic goes deeper than the treackly tree-appreciation Mr. Kilmer (Joyce was a mister) epitomizes. How deep? As deep as our own deepest arboreal roots, all the way back to the little ancestral creatures who first took our branch of the animal kingdom up into the trees (maybe to escape hungry little dinosaurs), where we acquired the binocular vision (the most striking feature of the human face is our two forward-looking eyes with their synchronized gaze) and the grasping hands (with which we do and make all the stuff humans are famous for) that are necessary for survival in the treetops. You get the Scandentia Award, but lest you think being assocated with tree shrews is a step backwards for a full-fledged human being such as yourself, consider this: the tree shrew's brain/body index (the ratio of brain to brawn) is higher than that of humans. It's a step back up !
Hazer,
I am looking through your story to identify what you'll be awarded, and it boils down to four choices: A Guiity Kiss, a Dusky Parrot, a Dusky Kiss, or a Guilty Parrot. If you don't mind, I think I'll give you the first choice, and if you do mind, that just adds to the guiltiness of it and thus to the magnitude of the award. If you'd prefer something more literay, you can add a Hemingway Award due to the your story's parallels with the last pages of A Farewell to Arms, also about a man trying to deal with a situation no one can ever deal with...
... but workingoutaname's story helped about as much as anything has, and I know the name of the award it earned in my mind, but other minds will probably have other names which, like the Melville Award, make only private sense, and anyway, Annabelle Lee is probably best for the author if I read his story and messages correctly, or if not. the ThinkWrite Challenge XC is all he gets, which is after all the only award anyone came here hoping to take home with them. Use it wisely.
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marius
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Chelydra, looks like you’ve hosted a hugely successful ThinkWrite … wow! And, much appreciation for the kind, thoughtful and funny feedback you gave to all.
Midnight, that’s the word I was looking for - SQUEE!!!!
It’s exactly how I felt to see everyone writing here. Ditto on the missing part. So wonderful to see your writing again! Have only skimmed but hope to savor all the contributions asap. And, just for fun, chelydra (even though you are ‘gone’now) … 216 and ½ word re-write below. ‘Moo’ is ½ of moonlit, all ten list words included. : )
Keep Playing
“Oh Mommy, don’t stop. I LIKE those songs.†Such a peculiar child, my Artemis. Most people don't enjoy listening to piano scales and arpeggios.
“Keep playing!†he bellows happily.
I wave to him out the open window. He smiles and blows a raspberry kiss. It really is raspberry; he’s apparently doing the blood thing again in his graveyard.
That’s another curiosity, the graveyard. When Wolf died (not many woolly worms will survive being coddled via the iron grip of a four year old) it wasn’t enough to have one grave. Artemis built a virtual tomb for a moth that would never be. Then we had to find dead ants, spiders, anything, and bury them so Wolf wouldn’t be lonely.
Artemis is hanging on the window now, begging to come in that way instead of the door.
“Last night I was in the treetops, Mommy. I was so high I caught some moo….moon … some moonlight. I buried it. See!â€
Emmy calls from across the street. “Hey, Art, c’mon over.†He flies. So has time since I heard the screeching brakes and felt the sounds that followed.
Last night I found a dead crow. “Keep playing,†it said. So, I buried the bird in Art’s old graveyard and that’s when I saw a moonbeam in the freshly-turned soil.
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Congrats to workingoutaname! Look forward to your challenge.
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I do hope you'll come back to see the next challenge.