Saturday, May 28, 2016

Cracked Flash: Year 1, Week 43!

One month to the birthday of the Cracked Flash Fiction Competition! (Mars & Si might forget, yes.) I think we should do something special. BUT WHAT? (Feel free to leave a suggestion above/below your submission!)


Judge This Week: Mars

Word Count: 300 max

How: Submit your stories as a comment to this post, along with your name, word count, and title (and Twitter handle or blog if you've got 'em!). One entry per person.

Deadline: Midnight tonight, PDT!

Results announced: Next Wednesday afternoon.

Remember: Your entry must begin with the prompt! The prompt can be mutilated, but not beyond recognition. (Pictures do not need to be incorporated into your stories, they're for inspiration (and sometimes our amusement)).


Prompt

"Don't feel bad. I'm pretty hard to kill."

There is a commercial for this.
And it is hilarious.
The Internet is a little obsessed with
animal-related memes.

Thursday, May 26, 2016

Year 1, Week 42: Results!

This is my favorite meme.

YO this is Si and it is time for CFFC Y1W42 WINNERS! Thanks to everyone for participating and let's get right to it!

Honorable Mention

Leara Morris-Clark's Party to the Crime

A fun little snippet of a story! I like how it's quickly established what the relationship between the main character and the teen (or so I assume) is. With a minimum of explanation the reader can see exactly what the situation is in this story--great "show not tell"! The ending amused me--"I am not very good at this adulting thing." (I sympathize!). I liked the balance of dialogue in this story. I would have liked to see more interaction between the characters, or had a bit more of a backstory/description woven into the piece. At the moment it is a bit abrupt--what is "You" like? Overall, great flash piece!


First Runner Up

Catherine Custard's Time

This was a very interesting take on Mother Nature. Usually we see her as a loving, necessary entity, here the piece points out some of the cruel dichotomies of the world brought about by her. There are some great lines here--" Even when you are happy your bounty is inequitable" for example. I don't think I've read a vengeful piece against Mother Nature before so this was quite original! We can feel the narrator's bitterness and anticipation of Mother Nature's demise. One suggestion I would make is to weave in these lines a little more clearly: " There is one on whom you depend. The Sun— he is your king, your lover. ". This was unexpected from the previous line: " You are queen but your reign will not last forever." Here I was expecting to see imagery of climate change, or even Time as you have later in the piece. I especially liked that the ultimate enemy here is Time, which will destroy all in the end. Great imagery and excellent piece!

Y1W41 Winner

Bill Engleson

with The Caller

Okay, I really loved this piece. Excellent job with the tension especially. I love how you start out with the frightening call, then while we wonder why the narrator received such a call we hear about how unexpected it is to them. The varying lengths of the paragraphs follow the tension of the story very well--great pacing. We can feel the narrator's confusion and fear. What had they done to deserve this? And finally the twist--it was a wrong number! One suggestion I have is to work with the lines following "it belonged to one of those wretched creatures burdened with a tonal deficit"--the tone here doesn't fit the rest of the piece, and I wondered why the narrator had such strong feelings against someone with this kind of voice. I like how you give just enough background for the reader, but we switch back to the suspenseful present quickly.  The sentence fragments do a great job building up suspense. Excellent story!

The Caller
“I see you. You don’t think I can but believe me, I do. There is nowhere you can hide.”

And then, click.

Even though the message was clear. I replayed it just to be sure I’d heard it right. The voice was unfamiliar. It had a high-pitched whine to it, muffled perhaps, or, more likely, it belonged to one of those wretched creatures burdened with a tonal deficit, inflicted from birth with a soprano screech, a castrato, perhaps, a shriek destined to shatter the simple pleasures of life by driving anyone within earshot away with their violently unpleasant, fingernail-on-blackboard lilt.

It screamed ME! ME! ME! Feed me! Love! Obey me!

The threat was beyond me.

I had lived, up to that moment, the most spotless of lives. I opened doors for old ladies, for old men, for strangers who were half a block down the street in the oft chance that they wanted to enter the building, any building I happened to be entering, and, occasionally, even buildings I had no intention of entering.

But beyond that, I had never, to my knowledge, interfered with anyone.

I lived an ascetic life. It was not necessarily by choice. Rather, my childhood was constrained. Home-schooled, a rural upbringing, a community nearly childless, a situation driven by economics.

I was surrounded by ancients, most uninterested in my uncomplicated ways.

Life as an adult followed much the same isolated pattern. I became a practical nurse and gravitated to the care of the elderly, nursing homes for the most part, homes increasingly occupied by the demented, elders unable to recall their lives.

I felt in good company.

But never had I been threatened like this.

My heart was racing.

And then…the phone rang again.

Time passed.

The same piercing voice.

“Oops, sorry. Wrong number again.”


 Congratulations, everyone! JOIN US ON SATURDAY FOR ANOTHER ROUND WITH MARS!

Saturday, May 21, 2016

Cracked Flash: Year 1, Week 42



Should we have a countdown until the 1 Year mark of CFFC?

I THINK WE SHOULD.

(Si & Mars reserve the right to totally forget)

I can't believe it's been nearly a YEAR of CFFC! Thank you all for participating and keeping our lovely crazy contest going.

Let's get right to the prompt for WEEK 42!



Judge This Week: Si

Word Count: 300 max

How: Submit your stories as a comment to this post, along with your name, word count, and title (and Twitter handle or blog if you've got 'em!). One entry per person.

Deadline: Midnight tonight, PDT!

Results announced: Next Wednesday afternoon.

Remember: Your entry must begin with the prompt! The prompt can be mutilated, but not beyond recognition. (Pictures do not need to be incorporated into your stories, they're for inspiration (and sometimes our amusement)).


Prompt

"I see you."

 

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Year 1, Week 41: Results!

Honorable Mention

Sara Codair's Dragon's Bane

Ah, classic hunter becomes prey! This is certainly an unexpected role reversal--a cat ending up murderizing a dragon. This short piece is packed with a lot of questions and not too many answers; a line or two of context on how this situation came about for the unfortunate dragon would go a long way. The image here, however, is very poignant and reminds everyone that the cat is not to be trifled with. 

First Runner Up

Daisy Warwick's How to Tranquilize a Dragon

It's really nice here that the dragon is not impervious to leading to its own demise--a welcome turn from dragons being traditionally killed by humans (sucks for him that dragons are able to be affected adversely by fire in this story!). I also wonder what else the dragon has been doing in these last one hundred years other than terrorizing--it seems awfully foolish to burn down something that has properties you have no idea about!

I really like the writing of this piece--it's very fluid and steady, consistent until the end where there's the reveal to what's going on. The pacing is nice, and the internal beffudlement is done well. 

Y1W41 Winner

Ronel Janse van Vuuren

with Dragon Flight

I enjoy the thought of mythical species all getting together to play games, and it intrigues me as to how the rules of these games work. Do they dictate who gets to rule over the humans until the next while? Who can win what prizes? How did this gaming tradition come about, with different species and everything? It's definitely a brilliant spectacle to imagine this all in my head. 

I like the formatting of the piece--the relatively short paragraphs with even shorter lines to punctuate the action. The line that bothered me the most out of this piece, however, was "And then..." The punctuation here seems incongruous with the action of the story; an ellipse (...) indicates a pause or hesitation. Here, an em-dash (--) seems more appropriate for a more "jarring" sensation. (I have a thing about punctuation >.>) 

The ending line amused me; it reminds me fondly of a game I like to play (Choice of the Dragon). The way this piece is written has a light-hearted tone to it, which is apt for the game. Good job!

(P.S. Your name is fun to type)
Dragon Flight 
The dragon was too slow. The wyvern had already intercepted the flaming pearl and was heading to the goal post. If the blue team won again, he wasn’t going to hear the end of it. Flapping for all he’s worth, he raced after the wyvern. 
Down below, the crowd was roaring and blasting illegal flames toward the players. The phoenix on the dragon’s team took a quick fire-bath to rid himself of parasites. The dragon closed his eyes briefly as the amphithere laughed so hard that he shook from his feathery frill to his sparkling goldish tail. The Asian Lung hadn’t closed its eyes and was momentarily blinded by his teammate’s glitter. 
The dragon swerved. As captain of his team, it seemed that everyone else had it out for him. Especially the fire-crazy crowd. Another fireball barely missed him and crashed into the wyvern; who dropped the flaming pearl. The dragon swooped down, caught it and flew back towards the opposite goal post. 
This was it. 
The crowd cheered and jeered. His team protected him against fireballs and opponents. Dragons crashed to the ground. The flaming pearl was burning his paw. 
And then… 
Score! 
The crowd went wild. The Lung fell out of the air in shock. The phoenix flashed through all the fireballs and caught fire. 
And the dragon finally prevailed. As team captain he won the pearl. And he finally acquired his fire. Now he could be a real dragon: he could have a lair, treasure and terrified humans.

 Congratulations, winners!

Thank you all who participated!

(Mars promises to be more punctual and on-top of the game next time, now that she's mostly moved into her new home!) 

See you next Saturday for a round with Si!

Saturday, May 14, 2016

Cracked Flash: Year 1, Week 41

Heeeey, everybody! Welcome back to a round of CFFC. Little did I know I would be writing this introduction on only 12% battery, so no fancy opening for you, haha. See you (and all your fabulous posts) tomorrow! 

Beware the Rules that Lurk

Judge This Week: Mars

Word Count: 300 max

How: Submit your stories as a comment to this post, along with your name, word count, and title (and Twitter handle or blog if you've got 'em!). One entry per person.

Deadline: Midnight tonight, PDT!

Results announced: Next Wednesday afternoon.

Remember: Your entry must begin with the prompt! The prompt can be mutilated, but not beyond recognition. (Pictures do not need to be incorporated into your stories, they're for inspiration (and sometimes our amusement)).

Prompt

The dragon was too slow.


Toothless is adorable (remember: no fanfiction)

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Year 1, Week 40: Results!


IT'S CFFC AWARDS DAY! 

Si was highly amused by all your entries this week.

And without further ado, THE WINNERS!

Honorable Mention

Sara Codair's Flying mouse-squirrel-bird Thing

Sometimes the dumbest assassin is actually brilliant in its stupidity! I loved the dichotomy between the main character's reaction and Marcy's reaction to the assassin. Serious threat, or ridiculous joke? I would have liked a bit more description of the character's expressions--I imagine Marcy was frowning, pissed off--and some information on who they were talking to. I like how the reason for calling the assassin dumb is first the ridiculous appearance of the assassin--but later, the fact that the assassin signs his name to the weapon! And who is it but Dr. Horrible! Great job keeping a balance between dialogue and description, and presenting two very different characters with a common goal. I want to know what happens next!

First Runner Up

Bill Engleson's Petulant Days

Cat assassins! I really like the tone of this story and the way you give the cat main character a distinct accent. Great job telling us just enough about Al's previous and current personalities--and the cats' predicament. It moves the story's tone from humorous to grim--the cats don't want to off poor Al, but given the choices--! Great last line, it fits perfectly. I would like to see more dialogue between the cats before the story heads to reminiscing about what Al used to be like. But here you do an excellent job balancing what details to tell and what to let the readers imagine. Your transitions work very well from recent events, to past memories, to reflection on what the situation is now. Well done!

Y1W40 WINNER!

Daisy Warwick
with Unauthorized Assassination

This was hilarious. I love that you don't outright tell us the main characters are a bunch of aliens. Funny: "it’s stupid to disguise yourself as something that doesn’t even exist on that planet." I liked the way the story of what happened comes out from the dialogue of various (nervous) aliens explaining their mistake to Captain Buskle. Great show-not-tell. The reference to the alien bachelorette party gone awry, this line "“So, you believe the sudden appearance of a frantic elephant at a presidential speech was preferable to a mutated mouse?” ", and the final shape choice of the Captain all amused me greatly. As a reader, I felt sympathy for the poor Officer Anabub who clearly made a terrible mistake. I also liked how the alien's logic attempted to make sense of Earth logic but got it horribly wrong. Excellent story!

Unauthorized Assassination

“That was the dumbest assassin she’d ever seen. What else could Officer Anabub have done? It’s one thing to disguise yourself to get near to the president, but it’s stupid to disguise yourself as something that doesn’t even exist on that planet. Captain, I believe Officer Anabub acted accordingly by assassinating the other assassin,” explained Lieutenant Fribble.

Captain Buskle turned all of his eight magenta-coloured eyestalks to peer down on the Lieutenant.

“Lieutenant, that dumb assassin you refer to was the granddaughter of one of our Elders. I believe that she accidentally navigated to Earth during a wayward bachelorette party and that her intention was not to assassinate anybody.”

“Oh.”

“Why couldn’t Officer Anabub think of something less ridiculous to shape-shift into?”

“It was a tactical ploy, Captain,” replied Fribble. A nervous musky odour began to dribble out of his face gills.

Captain Buskle’s eyestalks grew upwards another few inches and he glared at the Lieutenant.

“Explain!”

“Humans all know that elephants are afraid of mice, so it seemed logical that an elephant would react and sit on the creature,” said Fribble.

“I thought you said she hadn’t changed into an Earth creature?”

“Yes and no. Maybe the alcohol interfered with her knowledge of Earth creatures. She resembled a mouse with the tail and the ears, but according to Officer Anabub, she had four heads and was the size of a badger,” explained Fribble.

“So, you believe the sudden appearance of a frantic elephant at a presidential speech was preferable to a mutated mouse?” asked the Captain, his eyes turning a darker shade of red.

“Well…”

“And how exactly did the officer imagine a marginally over-sized and disfigured rodent would assassinate anybody?”

“Um…”

Suddenly shape-shifting into a giant mouse, Captain Buskle towered over Fribble and hissed,

“Send in Officer Anabub.”


Join us this Saturday for another sleeplessness-fuelled, slightly mad flash fiction competition! Si out *swirls black cloak and vanishes in a puff of purple smoke*

Saturday, May 7, 2016

Cracked Flash: Year 1, Week 40!

SPAAAACE

I was going to put a picture from Google Deep Dream there but got freaked out so you get pretty space! Be glad.

WELCOME! To Week 40 (!) of the esteemed Cracked Flash Fiction Contest! I should warn y'all I had roughly 4 hours sleep and therefore am dancing on the line between insanity and sanity. A perfect state of mind to cut the ribbons to CFFC #40!

You have but one task here, agents: To write 300 words before the deadline. Well, and follow the rules we've helpfully linked below but DETAILS. Are you up to it? Can YOU rise to this week's challenge?

This week you find the prompt within a black cloak. It smells faintly coppery, like old blood. It's written in a code only you can decipher. You get the sense that a lot of money changed hands to get this prompt where it needed to be.

There's only you, and the prompt. Can you assassinate THIS challenge?

(Yes, everyone knows Si's jumping up and down because ASSASSIN PROMPT hushhhhh)

Beware the Rules that Lurk

Judge This Week: Si

Word Count: 300 max

How: Submit your stories as a comment to this post, along with your name, word count, and title (and Twitter handle or blog if you've got 'em!). One entry per person.

Deadline: Midnight tonight, PDT!

Results announced: Next Wednesday afternoon.

Remember: Your entry must begin with the prompt! The prompt can be mutilated, but not beyond recognition. (Pictures do not need to be incorporated into your stories, they're for inspiration (and sometimes our amusement)).

Prompt
That was the dumbest assassin she'd ever seen.

INSPIRATION


 

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Year 1, Week 39: Results!

I regret nothing.
Mars apologizes for her tardiness in beginning to write the reviews (working two jobs seems to suck the time out of everything (and she's gonna move from her parent's house to her aunt's house (which is really only about 15 minutes away, but packing is still a thing))). 

She thanks you all for participating last Saturday (and putting up with varying schedules)! (As to any questions as to why there's only one judge this week: Rin might not be joining us as a judge again, so Si and Mars will alternate weeks).

And, without further ado, here are your results for Y1W39! 

Honorable Mention

Sara Codair's Deceit in the Dark

The rivalry here between pixies and vampires intrigues me and raises a number of questions: Why does the rivalry exist? Are they all out to murder one another? Are vampires or pixies evil in this story? It's a nice little hook (and the eyebrow raise amuses me). The use of the prompt in this piece fell a little flat for me; I keep re-reading the story and not understanding how the first few lines fit into the story; I feel like it begins as Victoria hisses. I do like the character emotions here, however (the pixie being all elfin and fantastical and Victoria just being shocked at being murdered and falling to pieces (can you imagine that? Terrifying)). Good job!

First Runner Up

Daisy Warwick's Needs Must

I've been there. Those days where I forgot to eat breakfast and forgot to pack a lunch. Soon enough, the only thing I can think about is food (and the rumbling stomach doesn't help), and it's impossible to not fixate on the thought or mention of food. I can sympathize with the vampire in this piece (though I probably would give a second thought about nomming a human . . . ), and I was amused by the main character's nonchalant demeanor. I wondered why s/he couldn't find a graveyard shift job, since it seems like that would be perfect kind of job for a vampire (work during the night, sleep during the day?) and hardly anyone wants to work that shift. I like the image I get of Edward Banks; I'm actually a little sad he got nommed because he seemed like an okay guy. Nice work.

Y1W39 WINNER!

Timothy Davis

with The Orchard

So, usually when I read the pieces, the title is the last thing I look at (if I do look at them, oops). I was pleasantly surprised to find that the title of this piece is "The Orchard", since my favorite line of the piece seems to be exactly what the title was referencing: "The bottles were beginning to form a row like an orchard of brown glass." The imagery here is very sharp and I get a feeling of dusty light filtering into this crapsack of a room and over this depressed man, hitting the glass and throwing pale brown, glass shadows everywhere. It's a very sentimental line for a very sentimental piece. 

I, too, wonder where Sally is, and what happened to make them divorce. The bittersweet reflection on the past tugs at the heartstrings, but also instills a deep curiosity for what occurred in between then and now to have brought Jared to this low point in his life. From the last uttered line, "What have I done?" the reader might infer that it was Jared's fault (he said or did something to Sally that caused her to leave), and the guilt that seeps into the darkness is poignant. The skull is another curiosity (it reminds me of Wilson from Castaway, and turns this piece into a psychological puzzle for me), and everything about this piece is such stark emotion and imagery (I can envision Jared sitting on his couch and despondently staring down at this skull, as if he wants it to explain why life is so crappy, but that answer won't ever come, because it's just a skull). (I didn't realize how much I like this piece until just now, by the way, as I write this review. Well done, Sir, well done.)
The Orchard

“But the nights belong to me,” he whispered to the skull on the center of Sally’s, his ex-wife, coffee table. They had picked it out together before they were married, before they were dating, and in that innocent-just-friends-awkward stage of development where holding hands seemed better than sex. It was one of those stories they told their friends, whom they had over for wine or dinner; a joke, really, because the salesperson thought they were a couple, which was always the punchline: "We were destined to be together," and then the room would erupt with laughter.

Now Jared was watching The Fifth Element on TBS and conversing with a novelty skull he had acquired via an online auction. He wondered where she was, took a swig of beer, and washed the thought away. He watched Bruce Willis over the round hilltop of his belly and sat the empty bottle next to the skull. The bottles were beginning to form a row like an orchard of brown glass. Jared pushed himself up from the cushions and brushed off his shirt. Sally would be more than livid if she saw the house like this. He leaned back, turned off the TV, and let the darkness sink on him. He could hear the neighborhood as if it were a singular organism, each kid’s squeal or dog’s bark or car’s horn a breath that seemed to have more gravity than the darkness of his living room. Even the chitter of katydids made him feel less alive, as though Sally were an essential part of his existence. 
“What have I done?” Jared asked the darkness, but there was nothing to reply.

Congratulations, all! 
See you this Saturday :)