anotherronism

Folks...

I think the many suggestions from ThinkWrite - A Thought Writ are worthwhile. I've been trying to maintain control so we don't get word lists every other hour.

But I do not want to pick winners.

So this is an open contest. Anyone can provide wordlists and word counts but please be reasonable. If someone has just posted a new list we've got to have some time to get entries in before another list is submitted.

I have this idea. Soloslater get a late entry in on ThinkWrite1 and provided the word list being used along with the story being submitted.

I think this should be a valid way to proceed. Anyone can write any story using any word list/count but they should reference the list/count they are using.

Thoughts?

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I'm totally with you on trying to keep ThinkWrite under control, Ron. It's a really good excercise for the imagination and, although I am not being at all creative at the moment, I am enjoying all the contributions, without exception.
You have laid down a few rules but may I suggest that, after solosater has submitted her late entry on your first list (and I hope she is willing to do so) and she then sets the new word list together with her story for the new list, perhaps she could set an 'end date'. The last person submitting an entry on solosater's 'end date' (and we will adhere to TD date and time) will be the next person to submit a new word list, together with their entry for it.
This is only a suggestion ... it's still your baby.

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-C

Dragon

Here's a thought, why don't we submit our suggestions for a word list and then Ron chooses from them which words he's like to use. That way Ron maintains control of how often a new list comes into play but doesn't always have to think up the list. He could choose someones whole list, or words out of different lists that strike his fancy.
We could post our submissions on this thread and when Ron decides on the next list he can post it and the word count on the original thread (just thought that might keep suggestions all together without crowding the thread with the actual writing on it.)

solosater

Hey Ron, I like you, really, but some times your mind works way different than mine and I'm guessing a lot of others'.

My point is I like the whole set a limit on time thing (say a week or whatever), and then a best effort is chosen and that person is then able to choose the next word list & rules.

I also think the person should have the option to delegate the word list & other rules for that week to someone else if they choose to.

The reason behind my thinking is that we would get a real variety of topics/words/rules this way because we are all so different.

I also think there should be (and this won't be popular) a little pre-censoring. I mean that no word list should contain obviously offensive words or be so full of religious type words that you couldn't do a story/poem about something else.

solosater

I think that's sometimes, huh? Not some times. Yeah, well ya'all get the idea.

solosater

And Another Thing!

I do think people should feel free to submit their writings late if they missed something that they really wanted to tackle. It wouldn't be in the running of course but then we’d all get to read it even if it wasn’t on the current “challenge”.

Dragon

solosater has a good idea there. We could run it kind of like the Mugdots challenges.
She also makes a good point about not using offensive words- though I don't suspect any of the people involved would do that, it's always a good idea to make clear from the beginning.
We should make it clear that some words are nearly impossible to use, a word list probably shouldn't include supercalifragilisticexpialidociuos or atrioventricular or such like. I don't have a problem with made up words (loved fitting Elsewhen into stories) so long as it's feasible to fit in.

solosater

Oh, come on, I had the perfect story for supercalifragilisticexpialidociuos! ;-)

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... and floccinaucinihilipilification.

anotherronism

Alright. I'm not getting a concencus. So I'm gonna do it this way:

We'll frame it on the mugdots idea.

I'll provide a list and word count this time.

Stories will be submitted for, say, a week.

I'll pick a winner so look at my stuff and write what I'll like (this is why I don't like the idea of picking a winner...)

Actually there will be no winner named. Instead - we will "Pass the Torch"

Passing the Torch in no way suggests anyone "Won" the challenge. It just implies that someone touched the right nerve with the list-author.

One rule is this: The winner of one week may not pick the person he or she won from the previous week as the winner of the following week.

Otherwise - no rules.

Oh yes - I still think anyone can use ANY previous list so long as they indicate which list with their submission. This way someone who has a good idea but no time to execute can still get their idea submitted. It's up to the Torch Bearer to include these submissions in the weeks work.

So let's get started...

anotherronism

10 Words this time:

Anger
Triangle
Profound
Excellent
Adverse
Melancholy
Magical
Evil Dwarf
Beeswax
Floral Pattern

Word count is set at 200 again.

I'll Pass The Torch sometime on May 2, 2009 (Saturday) to whatever tickles my fancy. I will NOT say anyone has the "best" piece. The new torch bearer will create a list/word count and we will continue from there.

Let the games begin.

Dragon

Should we post on this thread or on the original thread?

anotherronism

Post here - this is officially ThinkWrite II

anotherronism

First entry (I will not pick my own...) 200 words exactly not including title:


“The Band”

The boy sat quietly in the corner tracing the floral pattern of the wallpaper with his finger. Eyes staring blankly he sniffled again.

He glanced back at the enormous room, all the other kids tuning and fiddling with their instruments. He spied his evil dwarf of a music teacher with those stupid beeswax dreads and he felt a profound sense of melancholy.

Why had he been given the triangle? He was an excellent drummer. But Kenny Jones got the drums and he had been given a stupid triangle.

Maybe his adverse reaction had been wrong. Maybe he should’ve taken that stupid triangle and wow’d them with his magical tinging skillz!

Ting ta ting ta ting ting ting! Yeah!

Who was he kidding? Ting ting ting ting more like it.

His sarcasm ignited his anger and he became sullen, drifting towards insolence – tracing the floral pattern again. He sniffled twice.

Then the band started.

He listened to the strings.

He glanced back.

The teacher’s dreadlocks were flying as he got into it. Man was he passionate.

The music swelled.

Kenny started wailing on the drums and the boy couldn’t help himself. His foot started tapping.

Man! That Kenny kid was good!

anotherronism

And another...

“Soup”

Of course, there could be no witnesses.

The pool was still. Any ‘witnesses’ would come from the pool. Their arrival would take time – a lot of time.

Still though it may be… The pool was not dead.

But it was hardly alive. At least in any ‘normal’ sense…

A profound thing was happening there - in the pool.

An excellent thing; yes - but an accident still.

This compound bounced off that compound. Some clung and some repelled.

What happened was magical; as if some evil dwarf stirred the pot.

What is life? What is a floral pattern? Fauna only can say this thing.

We must move up the chain - up the chain to the top.

Beeswax is one result; useful to the bee for sure – but put to higher purpose by higher beings.

But that purpose might be adverse to the bee – his issue being taken and all…

Look at the triangle: amino acid, catalyst and cellular development… What do you think?

Where do these things lead?

Starting at the pool – we arrive, eventually, at anger and melancholy.

Only at the top of the chain can we know such things.

Yet sill, the pool is stirred. Why not?

anotherronism

And another...

“Push”

Mother said they were beeswax candles.

They burned forever. It was hard finding them.

We drove from this five-and-dime to that Woolworth’s. She had to have beeswax; something about Easter when she was young.

My Dad was patient with her. He was patient with me.

He used to tell stories; magical stories about evil dwarves and wizards –always battling.

The odd triangle that formed between her anger, my melancholy and Dad’s profound desire for “normal” was, at times, exhausting.

I remember driving to the church. They said; it’s okay to cry.

They went on and on… It was not my fault.

It never occurred to me that it was.

So I should cry? What an excellent thing to do. I mean – there would be no adverse results. Right?

It was win-win for me.

So we got the candles and got to the church.

She was there - in her floral-pattern dress and cute little curls.

She looked asleep.

Mother fumbled with the tissue but got the candles into their brass holders and lit them.

The service began.

She was an “innocent” taken by God himself.

She was a child; only five years old.

It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t.

Nope!

anotherronism

And another... I'm on a roll...


“Puke-o-Rama”

I have never been in space before. This is so exciting!

Or it should be. Here I am puking in my suit – globs of lunch floating about my facemask. Ugh – the thought makes me: Urgh! Here I go again!

This should be a profound experience. My anger grows as I realize I’m just a pussy. This so-excellent experience reduced to plain nausea.

My belly screams. I’m falling, falling – always falling. There’s nothing “magical” about this. I’m just falling – all the time falling.

I remember the salesroom – the posters, the pamphlets – the evil dwarf who sold me this stupid trip - beeswax in my ears when he mentioned “disorientation”.

“Possible Adverse Reactions”

I remember reading something about that.

Duh!

There’s a vomit bag in the pouch in front of me. Why choose a triangle as the universal symbol for barf?

I fish out the bag. I stare at the horrible floral pattern on the seat-back. I retch again.

I ponder this whole trip and fall into a deep melancholy.

I spent so, so much money on this. It was supposed to be exciting.

Why provide barf bags when we are required to wear spacesuits.

I throw up in my mask again…

anotherronism

My last entry tonight (I keep waiting for someone else to jump in - must be a slow evening on TD. Alas...)


“Need-To-Know”

“We currently offer over 200 furniture-grade fabrics. You can choose from solids, stripes, floral patterns and other decorative fabrics to boost your indoor and outdoor decor!

“Curtains from Custom Curtain Source provide a simple yet elegant splash of color that you have been looking for.”

He re-read the copy.

What could he add?

He hated his job. His profound anger invaded his every thought.

He’d won the Dean’s Award for Excellent Writing not once or even twice but three times. His short story “Beeswax and The Evil Dwarf on Pluto” had won the Schwimmer-Hooper award for God’s sake!

And here he was – schlepping out copy for some obscure furniture fabric website???

How did this happen?

He thumbed the swatches on his desk – noticing the rather nice triangle pattern with the burnt-umber and orange highlights.

His melancholy turned to excitement.

He hurriedly typed out “Magical colors and interlocking shapes melding and combining with your own personal and private color palette”…

He re-read the copy.

His reaction was not adverse. He COULD do this. He could enjoy himself.

He was a good writer? Right?

No “Pluto” BS here. This was real. This was meaningful. People had to know about this… This what?

midnightpoet

Evil dwarves should not wear floral patterns. It’s one of the basic rules of fantasy fashion. Yet there he stood, that short, bearded menace, wearing a loud Hawaiian-style shirt, bedecked with brightly colored flowers. I cringed at the sight of it.

He seemed melancholy today, and that only served to further increase my anger. What right did he have to be melancholy? After the news of his love triangle involving the widowed queen and her cousin, he became a hero to the kingdom -- a kingdom full of fashion-challenged, lust-driven, magical beings.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not adverse to love triangles, but he had sinister plans far beyond bedding the queen and her cousin, and I feared for the fate of the land. As much as I loathed the creatures I lived among, I loved the kingdom I lived in. The land was covered with excellent glittery trees, and the flowers sparked in a way that made everything feel more profound.

The evil dwarf stared at me, waiting for me to speak first. I waited for him. He turned to light a beeswax candle, and I took that opportunity to plunge my dagger into his throat. He died.