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Routine
This time it’s going to be different.
That’s what you tell yourself.
You barely notice the notification in your e-mail as you scrolled by. Another writing competition this weekend. A surge of creativity and excitement that briefly resonates through your mind. A million different ideas spin and whirl in your brain, brilliant flashes of literary genius that you cannot wait to put on paper.
This time I’ll write something great!
The week passes quickly, work and school burning through the time.
It’s Thursday.
The discussion thread is alive and well with comments by the other various authors.
I can’t wait to discuss with these guys!
You submit your prompt. It sounds great. You haven’t really brainstormed a complete idea yet, but you’ll figure it out. There’s still another day after all.
It’s Friday. You get up for work and check the site. Writing opened at 12:00am in the morning and lasts 24 hours. You can’t start yet though.
As soon as I get home from work.
Work ends and you rush home. You open your apartment door, hang up your coat and sit down.
As soon as I finish dinner.
You heat up some leftovers for dinner and force them down quickly. You throw the dishes in the sink for later and head into your bedroom. You sit down in your chair and turn on your PC, idly watching it boot. You open your word processor.
And stare at the empty page for a few minutes. You still hadn’t thought of a full story yet. The earlier creativity stalls. You open up the internet. You need some inspiration.
After I watch some of these videos.
The sun dips down below the window, and soon your bedroom darkens. You open up a game.
After this match.
The clock ticks from the corner of your room, but you barely hear it over the sound coming through your headphones.
Seven…
Eight…
Nine…
I can rush that story in a few hour, no worries!
You keep clicking, surfing through the net, reading, watching, and listening.
After this…
After this…
After this…
You close out of what you were doing, finally putting your attention on your word processor. You look at the clock. It reads 11:17pm. You turn back to your computer, place your hands on the keyboard…
…And write nothing. That clever idea you had bits and pieces of earlier sounds stupid and forced now.
What’s the point in rushing a piece of crap? I’m just wasting my time.
11:31.
You stare blankly at the monitor. The indicator curser flashes on the empty page.
That prompt was stupid anyways. Mine should have won.
11:42.
It’s too late now anyways.
You sit in your chair and stare at the screen.
11:58. 11:59. 12:00.
It’s over.
The clock ticks from the corner of your room, the sound banging in your ears though your headphones. The empty page looks back at you from the monitor, the bright white screen illuminating your room.
I just didn’t have enough time, oh well…
You get up from the chair, turn off the screen and head to bed.
Next time it’s going to be different…
That’s what you tell yourself.
That’s what you tell yourself.
You barely notice the notification in your e-mail as you scrolled by. Another writing competition this weekend. A surge of creativity and excitement that briefly resonates through your mind. A million different ideas spin and whirl in your brain, brilliant flashes of literary genius that you cannot wait to put on paper.
This time I’ll write something great!
The week passes quickly, work and school burning through the time.
It’s Thursday.
The discussion thread is alive and well with comments by the other various authors.
I can’t wait to discuss with these guys!
You submit your prompt. It sounds great. You haven’t really brainstormed a complete idea yet, but you’ll figure it out. There’s still another day after all.
It’s Friday. You get up for work and check the site. Writing opened at 12:00am in the morning and lasts 24 hours. You can’t start yet though.
As soon as I get home from work.
Work ends and you rush home. You open your apartment door, hang up your coat and sit down.
As soon as I finish dinner.
You heat up some leftovers for dinner and force them down quickly. You throw the dishes in the sink for later and head into your bedroom. You sit down in your chair and turn on your PC, idly watching it boot. You open your word processor.
And stare at the empty page for a few minutes. You still hadn’t thought of a full story yet. The earlier creativity stalls. You open up the internet. You need some inspiration.
After I watch some of these videos.
The sun dips down below the window, and soon your bedroom darkens. You open up a game.
After this match.
The clock ticks from the corner of your room, but you barely hear it over the sound coming through your headphones.
Seven…
Eight…
Nine…
I can rush that story in a few hour, no worries!
You keep clicking, surfing through the net, reading, watching, and listening.
After this…
After this…
After this…
You close out of what you were doing, finally putting your attention on your word processor. You look at the clock. It reads 11:17pm. You turn back to your computer, place your hands on the keyboard…
…And write nothing. That clever idea you had bits and pieces of earlier sounds stupid and forced now.
What’s the point in rushing a piece of crap? I’m just wasting my time.
11:31.
You stare blankly at the monitor. The indicator curser flashes on the empty page.
That prompt was stupid anyways. Mine should have won.
11:42.
It’s too late now anyways.
You sit in your chair and stare at the screen.
11:58. 11:59. 12:00.
It’s over.
The clock ticks from the corner of your room, the sound banging in your ears though your headphones. The empty page looks back at you from the monitor, the bright white screen illuminating your room.
I just didn’t have enough time, oh well…
You get up from the chair, turn off the screen and head to bed.
Next time it’s going to be different…
That’s what you tell yourself.
0/10 hit too close to home.
Just kidding, though this happened to me far more than I care to admit, and why I haven't been in the Writeoff since two Octobers ago.
All good stories have some grounding in reality. This is a good story. Structurally, though, I didn't care for it. The issue with the second-person viewpoint—and the other viewpoints too, really—is the trap that people fall into with "X" sentences. X did Y. X did Z. It becomes monotonous and saps all energy from the story. Towards the end, this doesn't happen as much and the story is all the better for it. There's a tension present there that this piece needs elsewhere.
I was wondering if I would see a meta piece, and I'm glad to see that it's a successful one.
Just kidding, though this happened to me far more than I care to admit, and why I haven't been in the Writeoff since two Octobers ago.
All good stories have some grounding in reality. This is a good story. Structurally, though, I didn't care for it. The issue with the second-person viewpoint—and the other viewpoints too, really—is the trap that people fall into with "X" sentences. X did Y. X did Z. It becomes monotonous and saps all energy from the story. Towards the end, this doesn't happen as much and the story is all the better for it. There's a tension present there that this piece needs elsewhere.
I was wondering if I would see a meta piece, and I'm glad to see that it's a successful one.
While I'll always consider meta stories to be low hanging fruit, I'll never deny that I always manage to connect to them. You've plucked the strings of my heart, but my heart finds your plucking finger to be coarse. You did just get finished plucking the strings of everyone else in the room, after all.
So, I am sympathetic to the feelings in this story, and it does capture them well.
I just find myself a little... annoyed by them? If you're getting trapped in that cycle, it is wholly on you and a simple matter of you just not wanting it enough. That said, you as the author do definitely seem to understand this, which is good. But it means I (as someone who kicks this problem in the face regularly) walk away feeling annoyed, rather than a shameful camaraderie.
I just find myself a little... annoyed by them? If you're getting trapped in that cycle, it is wholly on you and a simple matter of you just not wanting it enough. That said, you as the author do definitely seem to understand this, which is good. But it means I (as someone who kicks this problem in the face regularly) walk away feeling annoyed, rather than a shameful camaraderie.
Submitted works to this event should fall under the following description:
Fiction not dependent on work under U.S. copyright.
NOT FICTION, NO SALE - okay okay okay I kid.
... Unfortunately, I don't kid by much. This is a very obvious idea, one of the most commonly repeated in Writeoff and similar competitions, and the execution here is bare bones. Relatability is a fine goal, but it has to be balanced with originality and flavor.
Congrats on completing an entry, though. Thanks for writing, and hope to see you back next time, taking on some more challenging material!
Fiction not dependent on work under U.S. copyright.
NOT FICTION, NO SALE - okay okay okay I kid.
... Unfortunately, I don't kid by much. This is a very obvious idea, one of the most commonly repeated in Writeoff and similar competitions, and the execution here is bare bones. Relatability is a fine goal, but it has to be balanced with originality and flavor.
Congrats on completing an entry, though. Thanks for writing, and hope to see you back next time, taking on some more challenging material!
I knew there was going to be one of these, especially because of this prompt.
It's not original. We've read this story before, in 'Original' rounds as well as MLP ones.
It's relatable, sure. I'm positive that whoever wrote this just needed to get an entry in for the sake of doing so, and went with the oldest idea in the books.
I'll probably abstain. Sorry.
It's not original. We've read this story before, in 'Original' rounds as well as MLP ones.
It's relatable, sure. I'm positive that whoever wrote this just needed to get an entry in for the sake of doing so, and went with the oldest idea in the books.
I'll probably abstain. Sorry.
Count me with >>Ranmilia.
The prose and the pace are actually good, but when it comes down to originality, errr...
The idea is very obvious and there is nothing to add some flare to your story. While relatable, this is somehow meta Writeoff entry 101.
So not a bottom slater, because of the prose and pace, but not a top tier either.
If you ever wish to submit a story like that again, try to add something new to it, and you'll definitely won some points from me.
Thank you for sharing.
The prose and the pace are actually good, but when it comes down to originality, errr...
The idea is very obvious and there is nothing to add some flare to your story. While relatable, this is somehow meta Writeoff entry 101.
So not a bottom slater, because of the prose and pace, but not a top tier either.
If you ever wish to submit a story like that again, try to add something new to it, and you'll definitely won some points from me.
Thank you for sharing.
Second person... ugh.
Meta... ugh.
About writer's block and procrastination... ugh.
Yeah, not much more to say. Well, it is well written (grammatically) for whatever that's worth. Otherwise, this is the sort of thing we've all written a hundred times. The secret is just to keep them all in your personal files and never show them to anyone.
Meta... ugh.
About writer's block and procrastination... ugh.
Yeah, not much more to say. Well, it is well written (grammatically) for whatever that's worth. Otherwise, this is the sort of thing we've all written a hundred times. The secret is just to keep them all in your personal files and never show them to anyone.