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First day at college and I was about to be expelled. Here I was in the dean’s office, sweating profusely, a singularity box in my backpack, and the card to the boys’ dorm on my keychain. It was inevitable that I'd be caught. Schools such as this had a reputation to uphold.
“Miss Pangelica,” the dean began from behind her desk. She was old as my grandmother and five times as scary. Rumor had it that she'd been working at the academy for seven generations. “How would you explain this?” She tapped on my keychain with her cane.
“Err, I have a perfectly valid explanation for this, Dean M’Bo.” I shuffled uncomfortably. “But first, let us talk about parallel universes.”
The dean’s frown deepened. She wasn't buying my rhetoric. At this point, however, I was so deep in shit that it didn't matter. I had to keep going.
“Scarsnatchers have always tried to find a way to break the universal embargo,” I started. The dean arched a brow. “Yes, I know about them. My grandfather was a Proxy Marshal during the war, so he’d often tell stories about it. I know what Scarsnatchers are. That's how I noticed one at the opening ceremony.”
“The blonde in the corner of the hall.” The dean nodded. “Which you were instrumental in capturing. Paradox authorities are still trying to piece together her background. How exactly did you find out she was a Scarsnatcher, might I ask?”
“The pew.” I smiled. “Espera Nova is one of the few colleges that has wooden pews. Every graduate scribbles their name on it at some point. My mother carved out hers when she was here. Yet there were no marks anywhere near the blonde girl, so I knew something was off. Later when I followed her to the nurse's office, I saw her tap a fellow student on the shoulder. He had scars on his neck this morning, but they were gone after she tapped him.”
“Hmm…”
“You must understand, I’m fully aware how stupid my actions were. I would never have broken into the science lab if I had any choice.” The lie was so obvious that even I wouldn't believe myself. In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess. From here on the only way I could go was up. “I remember my grandfather telling me that singularities would cause Scarsnatchers lose their perception in our universe, and as I didn't have a singularity cannon—“
“You helped yourself to one of our singularity boxes,” the dean sighed with the shake of her head.
“I was going to return it!” I insisted. “Actually, I was on my way to return it right when the invigilators caught me.” The truth was that I didn't think there would be any mind-readers present on the first day. “Still, it was funny how the Scarsnatcher ran into a wall when she realized she was found out.” I started laughing. The dean didn't join in, so I stopped.
“To summarize,” the dean said. “You—a recently joined scholarship student—noticed a Scarsnatcher on campus on your first day. You knew what she was, thanks to the stories your grandfather, a war hero, used to tell you when you were young, and instead of choosing to inform me or the authorities set off to stop her on your own.” She paused for a moment to increase the tension. I felt as if the true weight of the black hole was on my back. “Not only that, but you broke into one of our lab facilities, helped yourself to a singularity box, and released a colony of inquats from our xenomorphic study rooms, and set a cafeteria fountain on fire?”
“Err, mostly?” I put on my most innocent smile. I had totally forgotten about the inquat incident, thought it wasn't like the little creatures didn't appreciate being let loose. If I had the money I would definitely buy one as a pet. “The fountain had nothing to do with me! I was just at the wrong place at—“
“Very well!” she cut me short. “In light of the arrest and subsequent investigation of the Scarsnatcher, I am willing to show some leniency on the matter.”
Yes! I let out a sigh of relief.
“However, that wouldn't explain why you’re in possession of a keycard to the boys’ dormitory.” The dean narrowed her eyes. “Care to explain that,”
“Well…” I swallowed. It was going to be a long night.
“Miss Pangelica,” the dean began from behind her desk. She was old as my grandmother and five times as scary. Rumor had it that she'd been working at the academy for seven generations. “How would you explain this?” She tapped on my keychain with her cane.
“Err, I have a perfectly valid explanation for this, Dean M’Bo.” I shuffled uncomfortably. “But first, let us talk about parallel universes.”
The dean’s frown deepened. She wasn't buying my rhetoric. At this point, however, I was so deep in shit that it didn't matter. I had to keep going.
“Scarsnatchers have always tried to find a way to break the universal embargo,” I started. The dean arched a brow. “Yes, I know about them. My grandfather was a Proxy Marshal during the war, so he’d often tell stories about it. I know what Scarsnatchers are. That's how I noticed one at the opening ceremony.”
“The blonde in the corner of the hall.” The dean nodded. “Which you were instrumental in capturing. Paradox authorities are still trying to piece together her background. How exactly did you find out she was a Scarsnatcher, might I ask?”
“The pew.” I smiled. “Espera Nova is one of the few colleges that has wooden pews. Every graduate scribbles their name on it at some point. My mother carved out hers when she was here. Yet there were no marks anywhere near the blonde girl, so I knew something was off. Later when I followed her to the nurse's office, I saw her tap a fellow student on the shoulder. He had scars on his neck this morning, but they were gone after she tapped him.”
“Hmm…”
“You must understand, I’m fully aware how stupid my actions were. I would never have broken into the science lab if I had any choice.” The lie was so obvious that even I wouldn't believe myself. In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess. From here on the only way I could go was up. “I remember my grandfather telling me that singularities would cause Scarsnatchers lose their perception in our universe, and as I didn't have a singularity cannon—“
“You helped yourself to one of our singularity boxes,” the dean sighed with the shake of her head.
“I was going to return it!” I insisted. “Actually, I was on my way to return it right when the invigilators caught me.” The truth was that I didn't think there would be any mind-readers present on the first day. “Still, it was funny how the Scarsnatcher ran into a wall when she realized she was found out.” I started laughing. The dean didn't join in, so I stopped.
“To summarize,” the dean said. “You—a recently joined scholarship student—noticed a Scarsnatcher on campus on your first day. You knew what she was, thanks to the stories your grandfather, a war hero, used to tell you when you were young, and instead of choosing to inform me or the authorities set off to stop her on your own.” She paused for a moment to increase the tension. I felt as if the true weight of the black hole was on my back. “Not only that, but you broke into one of our lab facilities, helped yourself to a singularity box, and released a colony of inquats from our xenomorphic study rooms, and set a cafeteria fountain on fire?”
“Err, mostly?” I put on my most innocent smile. I had totally forgotten about the inquat incident, thought it wasn't like the little creatures didn't appreciate being let loose. If I had the money I would definitely buy one as a pet. “The fountain had nothing to do with me! I was just at the wrong place at—“
“Very well!” she cut me short. “In light of the arrest and subsequent investigation of the Scarsnatcher, I am willing to show some leniency on the matter.”
Yes! I let out a sigh of relief.
“However, that wouldn't explain why you’re in possession of a keycard to the boys’ dormitory.” The dean narrowed her eyes. “Care to explain that,”
“Well…” I swallowed. It was going to be a long night.
This is an interesting story with a lot of fun ideas that left me wanting more. It did have some issues for me, though.
I feel the main problem in this work is the ratio of unexplained terminology and sci-fi concepts to the story's length. We aren't given enough information to determine what the universal embargo is, or Scarsnatchers, or a singularity box, etc. It felt a like there were a lot of very interesting but incomplete ideas invoked solely to tell a whimsical story. Unfortunately, the story seems to rest almost entirely on those ideas, because the framework of the story did not feel particularly novel or interesting to me (naughty kid gets caught, lies).
In particular, I was troubled by the fact that we never learn the protagonist's true motivations. We know she lied throughout her explanation, but we don't learn anything about what she was actually trying to do. Is she a Scarsnatcher? Is she trying to sneak into the dormitory for casual sex? Is she a pyromaniac who likes having weaponized singularities? I don't know enough to say for sure.
How could she forget the inquat incident if it happened earlier on that same day? I agree this is a lot of hijinks to perform in a single day, but why would a scholarship student intentionally cause so much chaos?
".' The dean nodded." made it sound to me like she was nodding in response to something the student said, which made it seem like the student and dean were talking in the same paragraph until I reread it twice. I think something like, ",' said the Dean, nodding." might work better.
I feel the main problem in this work is the ratio of unexplained terminology and sci-fi concepts to the story's length. We aren't given enough information to determine what the universal embargo is, or Scarsnatchers, or a singularity box, etc. It felt a like there were a lot of very interesting but incomplete ideas invoked solely to tell a whimsical story. Unfortunately, the story seems to rest almost entirely on those ideas, because the framework of the story did not feel particularly novel or interesting to me (naughty kid gets caught, lies).
In particular, I was troubled by the fact that we never learn the protagonist's true motivations. We know she lied throughout her explanation, but we don't learn anything about what she was actually trying to do. Is she a Scarsnatcher? Is she trying to sneak into the dormitory for casual sex? Is she a pyromaniac who likes having weaponized singularities? I don't know enough to say for sure.
How could she forget the inquat incident if it happened earlier on that same day? I agree this is a lot of hijinks to perform in a single day, but why would a scholarship student intentionally cause so much chaos?
“The blonde in the corner of the hall.” The dean nodded. “Which you were instrumental in capturing...”
".' The dean nodded." made it sound to me like she was nodding in response to something the student said, which made it seem like the student and dean were talking in the same paragraph until I reread it twice. I think something like, ",' said the Dean, nodding." might work better.
(sigh) I need to rip into this story for something that boils down to a nitpick — because it's a problem I've seen in virtually every story I've read this round. I'm not picking on you, author, you just happened to pile the straw on that broke me:
ADFHJASHTGWJRGWJRBTJLWAGHTAWL*ASDGAQT$H IF THE SCHOOL HAS MIND-READERS ON STAFF THEN *WHY IS THE DEAN QUESTIONING HER ABOUT THE KEY IN THE FIRST PLACE*?
FOR ALL STARS' LOVE, PEOPLE, WILL YOU PLEASE STOP THROWING IN COOL DETAILS THAT COMPLETELY BREAK YOUR STORY'S PREMISE?!?
(*breathes*)
(*breathes*)
(*Twilight/Cadance hoof-chest salute thing*)
Look — as story faults go, this is really not a large one. It's fixable in its entirety by simply changing the word mind-readers to "guardian spirits" or something. The reason that I'm focusing on it is that it's a small visible symptom of a much deeper, invisible problem that sinks stories faster than almost anything I can name.
That problem is: Not understanding the implications of your premise and setting.
The Writeoffs tend to encourage seat-of-pants writing — which can be a good thing! That forces you to kick your creativity into high gear, and avoid dithering over ideas and procrastinating via worldbuilding. But you can't make a story work on just Rule of Cool, because your readers are trying to assemble a single coherent narrative from your text. If you frame your entire story as an old-school interrogation, but you throw in mind-readers as a little bonus detail in the second scene, the instant that someone asks why the protagonist didn't just get mind-ripped you've kicked out all of your foundations. (This is not to say that mind-readers are incompatible on their face with an interrogation scene: but you have to realize that there's a contradiction there, and lampshade a reason why the mind-readers can't be used, e.g. this is now a formal judicial proceeding and mind-rips aren't admissible as evidence.)
Mind-readers aren't the only consistency problem here, which is the big impetus behind my rant. For example:
1) If inquats are foreign/exotic enough to be under "xenomorphic study", who in hell is selling them as pets (at rates affordable by new students, no less making them common enough that the narrator identifies only money as the stumbling block)?
2) Does the narrator really not realize the contradiction of acknowledging that inquats want to be free, and then in the next breath wanting to own one?
3) See >>Trick_Question's complaint about forgetting something that literally just happened.
Why is the dean surprised that the person instrumental in capturing a Scarsnatcher knows what they are?
For that matter, why is it treated like a twist that the Dean decides to be lenient due to the Scarsnatcher capture? You're framing your story in a way that makes the Scarsnatcher a big freaking deal; I found myself wondering halfway through why the protagonist had opened with expulsion worries when by all rights this conversation should be about her being a hero. The Dean directly gives her credit for it! Brushing off that accomplishment to challenge her on the details is a really dick move. This would have been a much less awkward read if it was framed more like:
"Miss Pangelica," the Dean said without waiting for me to sit down, "first, I must express the school's — nay, the nation's — unending gratitude that you were able to help us capture a Scarsnatcher. I have awarded House Snufflepuff three brazillion points, and I will put in a personal commendation with the Wizarding Proletariat. That said…" The smile dropped from her face. I started to sweat, remembering the singularity box in my backpack. "…We need to have a discussion as to the methods you used."
That would also have the fringe benefit of letting Pangelica twist in the wind the entire time, volunteering incriminating detail after incriminating detail, with the Dean looking more and more surprised, only to have her brush off everything at the end and focus on Pangelica's dorm room key (which she'd totally forgotten about because it wasn't related to the capture).
But back to "not understanding the implications of your premise and setting". The reason that it's such an insidious problem is that it's very easy with seat-of-pants writing to have your characters react to whatever's happening in that moment — which makes sense in the moment, and it's only when you look at it in the larger context that you realize they're acting in ways no rational human would act. If you don't have that larger context fixed in your brain as you write, you can end up with them saying something snappy and cool in the moment that makes them look like idiots in the story-as-a-whole. See, for example, my last review, where Alternate Ingrid behaves at various points like 1) either she or Protagonist Ingrid are in danger but not both; 2) they're both in danger; 3) she's not in danger but Protagonist Ingrid and a third party both are. See also any number of stories in which a character goes from snarling to sobbing to happy in the course of three lines of dialogue. Kurt Vonnegut (as usual) has a rule for this: "Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water." You can't understand what your characters want unless you understand what the situation is that they're reacting to. If you haven't defined that situation, you can't write them consistently — and your characterization will suffer along with your worldbuilding.
Look, author. This is a story that is so close to being excellent. You've got a lot of cool and unique ideas, like the Scarsnatchers in the first place. You've got some clever commentary on the Harry Potter wonder-magical-student genre. The prose is snappy, and in contrast to >>Trick_Question, I felt that for the most part there was enough edge-context to explain the various techno/thaumibabble terms we run across. But it's throwing out so many cool ideas that it's tripping on the extras as it runs around the stage. Keep track of all your components — you'll have fewer stumbles.
Mmmh. I'm hitting so many stories this round without any attempt at internal consistency that the ones which get that right are gonna shoot to the top of my slate just by virtue of standing out from the pack. :\
Tier: Almost There
The truth was that I didn't think there would be any mind-readers present on the first day.
ADFHJASHTGWJRGWJRBTJLWAGHTAWL*ASDGAQT$H IF THE SCHOOL HAS MIND-READERS ON STAFF THEN *WHY IS THE DEAN QUESTIONING HER ABOUT THE KEY IN THE FIRST PLACE*?
FOR ALL STARS' LOVE, PEOPLE, WILL YOU PLEASE STOP THROWING IN COOL DETAILS THAT COMPLETELY BREAK YOUR STORY'S PREMISE?!?
(*breathes*)
(*breathes*)
(*Twilight/Cadance hoof-chest salute thing*)
Look — as story faults go, this is really not a large one. It's fixable in its entirety by simply changing the word mind-readers to "guardian spirits" or something. The reason that I'm focusing on it is that it's a small visible symptom of a much deeper, invisible problem that sinks stories faster than almost anything I can name.
That problem is: Not understanding the implications of your premise and setting.
The Writeoffs tend to encourage seat-of-pants writing — which can be a good thing! That forces you to kick your creativity into high gear, and avoid dithering over ideas and procrastinating via worldbuilding. But you can't make a story work on just Rule of Cool, because your readers are trying to assemble a single coherent narrative from your text. If you frame your entire story as an old-school interrogation, but you throw in mind-readers as a little bonus detail in the second scene, the instant that someone asks why the protagonist didn't just get mind-ripped you've kicked out all of your foundations. (This is not to say that mind-readers are incompatible on their face with an interrogation scene: but you have to realize that there's a contradiction there, and lampshade a reason why the mind-readers can't be used, e.g. this is now a formal judicial proceeding and mind-rips aren't admissible as evidence.)
Mind-readers aren't the only consistency problem here, which is the big impetus behind my rant. For example:
… released a colony of inquats from our xenomorphic study rooms, and set a cafeteria fountain on fire?”
“Err, mostly?” I put on my most innocent smile. I had totally forgotten about the inquat incident, thought it wasn't like the little creatures didn't appreciate being let loose. If I had the money I would definitely buy one as a pet.
1) If inquats are foreign/exotic enough to be under "xenomorphic study", who in hell is selling them as pets (
2) Does the narrator really not realize the contradiction of acknowledging that inquats want to be free, and then in the next breath wanting to own one?
3) See >>Trick_Question's complaint about forgetting something that literally just happened.
“Scarsnatchers have always tried to find a way to break the universal embargo,” I started. The dean arched a brow. “Yes, I know about them. My grandfather was a Proxy Marshal during the war, so he’d often tell stories about it. I know what Scarsnatchers are. That's how I noticed one at the opening ceremony.”
“The blonde in the corner of the hall.” The dean nodded. “Which you were instrumental in capturing…"
Why is the dean surprised that the person instrumental in capturing a Scarsnatcher knows what they are?
For that matter, why is it treated like a twist that the Dean decides to be lenient due to the Scarsnatcher capture? You're framing your story in a way that makes the Scarsnatcher a big freaking deal; I found myself wondering halfway through why the protagonist had opened with expulsion worries when by all rights this conversation should be about her being a hero. The Dean directly gives her credit for it! Brushing off that accomplishment to challenge her on the details is a really dick move. This would have been a much less awkward read if it was framed more like:
"Miss Pangelica," the Dean said without waiting for me to sit down, "first, I must express the school's — nay, the nation's — unending gratitude that you were able to help us capture a Scarsnatcher. I have awarded House Snufflepuff three brazillion points, and I will put in a personal commendation with the Wizarding Proletariat. That said…" The smile dropped from her face. I started to sweat, remembering the singularity box in my backpack. "…We need to have a discussion as to the methods you used."
That would also have the fringe benefit of letting Pangelica twist in the wind the entire time, volunteering incriminating detail after incriminating detail, with the Dean looking more and more surprised, only to have her brush off everything at the end and focus on Pangelica's dorm room key (which she'd totally forgotten about because it wasn't related to the capture).
But back to "not understanding the implications of your premise and setting". The reason that it's such an insidious problem is that it's very easy with seat-of-pants writing to have your characters react to whatever's happening in that moment — which makes sense in the moment, and it's only when you look at it in the larger context that you realize they're acting in ways no rational human would act. If you don't have that larger context fixed in your brain as you write, you can end up with them saying something snappy and cool in the moment that makes them look like idiots in the story-as-a-whole. See, for example, my last review, where Alternate Ingrid behaves at various points like 1) either she or Protagonist Ingrid are in danger but not both; 2) they're both in danger; 3) she's not in danger but Protagonist Ingrid and a third party both are. See also any number of stories in which a character goes from snarling to sobbing to happy in the course of three lines of dialogue. Kurt Vonnegut (as usual) has a rule for this: "Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water." You can't understand what your characters want unless you understand what the situation is that they're reacting to. If you haven't defined that situation, you can't write them consistently — and your characterization will suffer along with your worldbuilding.
Look, author. This is a story that is so close to being excellent. You've got a lot of cool and unique ideas, like the Scarsnatchers in the first place. You've got some clever commentary on the Harry Potter wonder-magical-student genre. The prose is snappy, and in contrast to >>Trick_Question, I felt that for the most part there was enough edge-context to explain the various techno/thaumibabble terms we run across. But it's throwing out so many cool ideas that it's tripping on the extras as it runs around the stage. Keep track of all your components — you'll have fewer stumbles.
Mmmh. I'm hitting so many stories this round without any attempt at internal consistency that the ones which get that right are gonna shoot to the top of my slate just by virtue of standing out from the pack. :\
Tier: Almost There
>>horizon
*vague upwards arm gestures* Yeah, all that.
This story hits another one of my own pet peeves, though: it's barely a story on its own. Instead, it's a story about a much more interesting story, reliant on secondhand details for the bulk of its appeal.
That sounds amazing! I'd love to read that story! But I'm not reading that story. I'm reading an expository conversation that's trying to trick me into imagining that much cooler story and make me believe I read that instead.
This story, here, on the page, earns zero points from me for any of those referenced Cool Things and Events, because the story we actually get is all tell and no show. Maybe if we at least saw the Singularity Box in action, or got to see even a minor flashback, something, anything, I'd be able to extend some credit. But we don't get anything on the page.
Now, that probably sounds like I'm being a big meanyhead. Here's why it bothers me, though:
Q: Why didn't we get the full story of all these cool things happening?
A: That story couldn't fit in 750 words.
That's the real rub, and why I referred to it as a trick. An expository reduction of a longer work isn't a very good use of the mini format to me (even if said work doesn't actually exist). When I Imagine changing those fantasy details and exciting descriptions to something more mundane, refocusing the reader's lens on this conversation between Pangelica and the Dean, it becomes clear how little meat there really is here. As Trick Question pointed out, we don't even learn Pangie's real motivations, or how she feels about any of this beyond hoping she doesn't get expelled.
Harshness time over, though. The prose is great! Fantastic job at working in the details and unfamiliar terms in ways that read well and appear to make sense, even if they fall apart on examination. When I call it a trick, I don't mean that as an entirely negative thing. Tricking readers into thinking they read something much more exciting than they did is a very valuable skill, and this is quite a nice demonstration of it! There is definitely a school of thought that would hold that "cheating" format limitations is great and this style of story is a great way to do a mini - it's just not what I'm looking for in my own judging criteria. And even with all that, I think this is still making the top half of my slate so far. So, indeed, thanks for writing!
*vague upwards arm gestures* Yeah, all that.
This story hits another one of my own pet peeves, though: it's barely a story on its own. Instead, it's a story about a much more interesting story, reliant on secondhand details for the bulk of its appeal.
“To summarize,” the dean said. “You—a recently joined scholarship student—noticed a Scarsnatcher on campus on your first day. You knew what she was, thanks to the stories your grandfather, a war hero, used to tell you when you were young, and instead of choosing to inform me or the authorities set off to stop her on your own.” She paused for a moment to increase the tension. I felt as if the true weight of the black hole was on my back. “Not only that, but you broke into one of our lab facilities, helped yourself to a singularity box, and released a colony of inquats from our xenomorphic study rooms, and set a cafeteria fountain on fire?”
That sounds amazing! I'd love to read that story! But I'm not reading that story. I'm reading an expository conversation that's trying to trick me into imagining that much cooler story and make me believe I read that instead.
This story, here, on the page, earns zero points from me for any of those referenced Cool Things and Events, because the story we actually get is all tell and no show. Maybe if we at least saw the Singularity Box in action, or got to see even a minor flashback, something, anything, I'd be able to extend some credit. But we don't get anything on the page.
Now, that probably sounds like I'm being a big meanyhead. Here's why it bothers me, though:
Q: Why didn't we get the full story of all these cool things happening?
A: That story couldn't fit in 750 words.
That's the real rub, and why I referred to it as a trick. An expository reduction of a longer work isn't a very good use of the mini format to me (even if said work doesn't actually exist). When I Imagine changing those fantasy details and exciting descriptions to something more mundane, refocusing the reader's lens on this conversation between Pangelica and the Dean, it becomes clear how little meat there really is here. As Trick Question pointed out, we don't even learn Pangie's real motivations, or how she feels about any of this beyond hoping she doesn't get expelled.
Harshness time over, though. The prose is great! Fantastic job at working in the details and unfamiliar terms in ways that read well and appear to make sense, even if they fall apart on examination. When I call it a trick, I don't mean that as an entirely negative thing. Tricking readers into thinking they read something much more exciting than they did is a very valuable skill, and this is quite a nice demonstration of it! There is definitely a school of thought that would hold that "cheating" format limitations is great and this style of story is a great way to do a mini - it's just not what I'm looking for in my own judging criteria. And even with all that, I think this is still making the top half of my slate so far. So, indeed, thanks for writing!
Truth be told, I didn't read any of the above reviews because holy god are they long. However, I did CTRL-F for the word "title." No results. So, in order to be the least helpful person in the comment thread, I figure I should inform you, the author, the importance of making sure your title capitalization is correct. Now, this could be a situation where the author is knowingly disregarding the rules of proper title capitalization, but even if that is the case, I think it is a poor idea. When I first see the glorious write-off gallery at 7:05AM Central Standard Time, I always take note of which stories interest me the most based on their titles, but I also habitually scan the titles for mistakes, because there is always someone who fails to render their title correctly. Wrong capitalization is a kiss of death for my first impressions in any given story, and I always feel, "Wow if the author didn't capitalize the title right, what hope is there for the story?"
I also frequently yell at Mono to confirm that the improperly capitalized story isn't his, because he has made that mistake several times. Spare the Frenchman this agony by capitalizing your stories correctly.
So now that I've rambled on something that's probably of no interest to anyone, what did I think of the story proper?
Well, it builds to a punchline, and a pretty decent one at that, which is the contrast of all this fantastical magical shit that it is going on, the dean is more interested something that is completely mundane. I think it takes a bit too much time to get there, and as a result, the focus shifts from setting up a joke to relaying a story that the reader doesn't get to see, only hear about.
at this point Cassius goes back and reads other reviews to see if anyone mentions this punchline
Huh... Well author, tell me if I'm getting the right read here, because if so I guess the joke just went everyone's head... That seems unlikely. Perhaps it is because I am of a different demeanor from >>Ranmilia, >>horizon, and >>Trick_Question that I just sort of had my eyes glaze over a lot of these fantastical details as >>Not_A_Hat mentions in his audio review. I'm more a "big picture" kind of guy.
If this is played completely straight, I can't say it is particularly interesting as is. It simply doesn't function as a 750 word story. It's like reading a news report in the form of dialogue. Very expository, with very long paragraphs of dialogue informing the reader of events that already transpired in a pretty straightforward manner. Puts me to sleep. I do appreciate the small details the author works into the prose in order to establish character with the protagonist as a reprobate. It gives a little bit of flavor to what would otherwise be a pretty boring scene.
Hm, there were a lot of comments about the prose here, but I didn't really think of it as too standout. Sorry! There are some good lines, and as I said, the narrative voice that establishes characterization does do wonders for the overall story, but dialogue mostly crowds out description here, and I'm not really left with much prose to mull over and think about. You're pretty much maxed on the word limit, and while I would have preferred a more balanced story in terms of dialogue vs. description, I think you were stuck in between a rock and a hard place here, since you chose a story in which you had to explain a ton of details.
I can't say I was as bothered by the lack of internal congruence of the characterization of the setting as the others, although I do think some details, particularly the comment about the mind reader, do detract from the piece and really indicate that the author probably needed to chill out with how many fantastical things they were throwing in the story. Kind of like fantasy sci-fi gumbo.
I think the end saves the story for me.
I also frequently yell at Mono to confirm that the improperly capitalized story isn't his, because he has made that mistake several times. Spare the Frenchman this agony by capitalizing your stories correctly.
So now that I've rambled on something that's probably of no interest to anyone, what did I think of the story proper?
Well, it builds to a punchline, and a pretty decent one at that, which is the contrast of all this fantastical magical shit that it is going on, the dean is more interested something that is completely mundane. I think it takes a bit too much time to get there, and as a result, the focus shifts from setting up a joke to relaying a story that the reader doesn't get to see, only hear about.
at this point Cassius goes back and reads other reviews to see if anyone mentions this punchline
Huh... Well author, tell me if I'm getting the right read here, because if so I guess the joke just went everyone's head... That seems unlikely. Perhaps it is because I am of a different demeanor from >>Ranmilia, >>horizon, and >>Trick_Question that I just sort of had my eyes glaze over a lot of these fantastical details as >>Not_A_Hat mentions in his audio review. I'm more a "big picture" kind of guy.
If this is played completely straight, I can't say it is particularly interesting as is. It simply doesn't function as a 750 word story. It's like reading a news report in the form of dialogue. Very expository, with very long paragraphs of dialogue informing the reader of events that already transpired in a pretty straightforward manner. Puts me to sleep. I do appreciate the small details the author works into the prose in order to establish character with the protagonist as a reprobate. It gives a little bit of flavor to what would otherwise be a pretty boring scene.
Hm, there were a lot of comments about the prose here, but I didn't really think of it as too standout. Sorry! There are some good lines, and as I said, the narrative voice that establishes characterization does do wonders for the overall story, but dialogue mostly crowds out description here, and I'm not really left with much prose to mull over and think about. You're pretty much maxed on the word limit, and while I would have preferred a more balanced story in terms of dialogue vs. description, I think you were stuck in between a rock and a hard place here, since you chose a story in which you had to explain a ton of details.
I can't say I was as bothered by the lack of internal congruence of the characterization of the setting as the others, although I do think some details, particularly the comment about the mind reader, do detract from the piece and really indicate that the author probably needed to chill out with how many fantastical things they were throwing in the story. Kind of like fantasy sci-fi gumbo.
I think the end saves the story for me.
See the aboves for some very good thoughts re: structure and plot issues.
I do have something else to address here... that prompt drop is really, really, really bad. There are two big problems with it, the first being that it really draws attention to what I feel is relatively tenuous prompt connection. Now, after being in the WO for so many rounds? I've made my peace with tenuous prompt connections. I do it too. But actively calling attention to it is not a very good idea, in my opinion.
More importantly, the line really just kinda thuds into place, particularly because we do not actually talk about parallel univereses. I get that scarsnatchers may have some affiliation with them, but that, in and of itself, is not talking about parallel universes. If I said, "Let's talk about lizards" and proceeded to discuss cricket breeding, I think the listener would feel put out. Cricket breeding is related to lizard keeping, admittedly, but it is not really a "lizard" subject.
I do have something else to address here... that prompt drop is really, really, really bad. There are two big problems with it, the first being that it really draws attention to what I feel is relatively tenuous prompt connection. Now, after being in the WO for so many rounds? I've made my peace with tenuous prompt connections. I do it too. But actively calling attention to it is not a very good idea, in my opinion.
More importantly, the line really just kinda thuds into place, particularly because we do not actually talk about parallel univereses. I get that scarsnatchers may have some affiliation with them, but that, in and of itself, is not talking about parallel universes. If I said, "Let's talk about lizards" and proceeded to discuss cricket breeding, I think the listener would feel put out. Cricket breeding is related to lizard keeping, admittedly, but it is not really a "lizard" subject.
I'd rather see Pangelica's scarsnatcher hunt than just hear about it second-hand, after the fact.
Chiming in with ’Drew: point docked for dropping the prompt, and not very cleverly either.
Chiming in with Horizon: what's the point of the Dean scene if mind-readers/telepaths exist in this world?
Chiming in with Trick: There's a lot of vocabulary to guzzle down.
The ending drew a smile from me, but still, it looks like you were trying to shoot two birds with the same stone, but your stone was barely large enough to even stun one. As a result, we're left with the second arc dangling, and… that's unsatisfactory.
Chiming in with Horizon: what's the point of the Dean scene if mind-readers/telepaths exist in this world?
Chiming in with Trick: There's a lot of vocabulary to guzzle down.
The ending drew a smile from me, but still, it looks like you were trying to shoot two birds with the same stone, but your stone was barely large enough to even stun one. As a result, we're left with the second arc dangling, and… that's unsatisfactory.
>>Trick_Question
>>horizon
>>Not_A_Hat
>>Ranmilia
>>Cassius
>>AndrewRogue
>>Dubs_Rewatcher
>>Monokeras
You convinced me. I'll write the full adventure and force you to give feedback! Seriously, though, I'll try to start thus soonish and see how it goes :D
Yep about the mind readers. I just thought if them as anti cheat monitors, not full mind readers. Would have been better to skip that O:)
Huge thanks for all your feedback!
>>horizon
>>Not_A_Hat
>>Ranmilia
>>Cassius
>>AndrewRogue
>>Dubs_Rewatcher
>>Monokeras
You convinced me. I'll write the full adventure and force you to give feedback! Seriously, though, I'll try to start thus soonish and see how it goes :D
Yep about the mind readers. I just thought if them as anti cheat monitors, not full mind readers. Would have been better to skip that O:)
Huge thanks for all your feedback!