Member Survivor: Fan Fiction Challenge

[ckeaton]

Posted: 4/21/05 at 7:51pm

What follows are the entries composed by the players of Member "Off-Topic" Survivor. They are being posted here as a central repository for the judges, currently anonymously.

If the judges will PM me with their results in the following format:

Please rank the following: (1 being poor, 5 average, 10 excellent)

1. Creativity (1 - 10) ____ (The idea of the story, and its "voice".)
   
2. Quality (1 - 10) ____ (Grammar, Narrative)
   
3. Continuity (1 - 10) ____ (How well does it represent the characters/story involved?)
   

If you would like to be a judge and you are an unbiased member who is not involved in the game, please feel free to PM me with your input. But, if you rate one story... please rate them all.

(And I hope I don't have to say this, but be nice on this thread.)

Updated On: 4/21/05 at 07:51 PM

[ckeaton]

Posted: 4/21/05 at 7:52pm

Dear Editor, NY Times Living Arts:

My name is Caroline Thibodeaux, and there ain't no real reason you should know me. I been in your paper a few times, and still read it on occasion when they leave it laying around the house. Gives me something else to do on my cigarette breaks from ironing, if I can't play the radio if SOMEBODY got another dang migraine. Is that some kind of Jewish-only headache? Anyway, I don't know all that much about your city, but last year I was there for a while, first down in the Public Village I think you call it, and later just for a while uptown at Gene O'Neill's boarding house (though truth to tell I couldn't afford the going rate there as long as I would have liked). I even got out to that City of Angels way cross the country, which was a nice spell. But I mainly know Louisiana, where I know we're sixteen feet below the sea, but we at least don't have our head up our behind like some of your writers for that paper of yours.

I barely met that Mr. Ben Brantley while I was in town, but I do recall he took somewhat of a liking to me. I was just wondering where he got off saying in his gossip column recently that this Mrs. Margaret Johnson, who I gather likes pizza, is the only real flesh-n-blood woman on the musical stage in a while. What am I, a Fig Mint? (that's one of those expressions Noah, or Tony like I knew him, likes to use, I thought it might impress you Yankees some).

I mean, I know Mrs. Johnson apparently is white enough and rich enough to get her and her daughter over to Europe (like white folks need to travel somewhere to be unhappy and complain), so maybe this Brantley S-O-B feels like she is more real than me. And I tried to get with his thinking about how the music we get to do works out, with that nice Jeanine girl and that Rodgers grandson getting all high-faluting with their melodies and that harmony like I never heard in church and us almost never speaking without some kind of tune going on underneath or mainly just singing what we got to say. He seems to think the rest of those musical shows you got going up there sound like they came off the radio, which frankly is fine by me. My radio sounds good, and sometimes I sing along, like some of those audiences at that Italian Mamma show or the one that just closed, about the surfers. Ain't nothing wrong with that. I prefer my children listen to the music at church, of course, but once you got a tune going in your head, who am I to judge what is good and ain't? At least you got a song coming out your mouth instead of some cuss word all the time, like in some of those "plays" I read about in your paper. How you can call them a PLAY when it's hard work to sit still for such language I just don't know.

Anyway, outside your paper too, I keep hearing this Mrs. Johnson might get to know some man up there who seems pretty important, this Tony fellow. I almost got to meet him too, but there were all kinds of tales about how I was losing my voice and maybe he didn't want to meet me. That Indigo girl (or some dang color, could of been green) met him instead, but she ended up with a cracked rib from her trouble. I hear Tony might like some other young girls this year too, one of them limping like Indigo - she hurt her foot or something, fooling around on a lamppost, poor little charity case. She barely made it into town, some weasels I think they said kept messing with her. Hear tell it's her first time to that Way Broad, so maybe Tony will take some pity on her. There's some other young girl too, but it sounds like Tony already married her - she's the little woman they say, and I know she already met Tony once - her name's Milly Modern or some such.

I just think if this Mrs. Johnson gets to meet Tony because Brantley says she's real, that ain't fair (or kosher, like these Gellmans always say). At least the tale I got to tell last year was new, and not stories from the picture shows like this one about going light on the pizza. Since I been there, your town has had shows about bullfrogs and lunch meat and con men who need their stinking laundry done (don't look at me for that, I got enough on my hands). At that ain't even counting what you call revivals, which have nothing to do with my kind of churching at all (especially with those fancy men wearing their mother's good Sunday clothes and prancing around like they was French or something). We all of us just trying to sing out what we know, and sometimes the choir joins along and the church attendance goes up, and sometimes it don't. Don't change the scripture much, just who likes hearing it.

Anyway, I thought I would let you know what a short memory your Mr. Brantley apparently got. I don't tell nobody but my children (and little Noah, whether he likes it or not) their own business, but if Brantley wants to keep writing for your paper about all of us, he might want to tell people they should try meeting us all more. Else they won't be no things for him to write about in the first place---some people might want to just go to Vegas and gamble at casinos and see puppets with smart mouths. And if you see Tony, you might tell him he don't know yet what he missed with me. Time will tell, time will tell. The dryer's done---and I got some more wrinkles to press out. And there's always change to look for, you never know what you might get.

Caroline

Updated On: 4/22/05 at 07:52 PM

[ckeaton]

Posted: 4/21/05 at 7:52pm

Rediscovering the Secret Garden

Colin Craven's hands twitched nervously as he held them in his lap and stared out the window of the train, watching miles and miles of the seemingly never-ending moor fly by. His hat lay on the seat next to him, preserving his isolation from the other passengers. He had not returned to Misselthwaite Manor since he left ten years ago to go to school. His father died the year before he left, leaving Colin devastated and eager to remove himself from memories of a happier time with Archibald. He was not quite sure why he was returning; Mary's invitation had caught him at his most vulnerable moment, only days after Clara broken off her engagement to him. Sitting on the train, he became irritated with himself for succumbing to his feelings of restlessness and instability and taking a vacation. He was not one to miss work often and was considered to be one of the company's most devoted and arduous bankers. Clara's tirade had hurt him more than he cared to admit. She said she refused to marry him until he showed her that he truly cared for her. She had accused him of being unfeeling and not devoted to her; he did not understand her claims. He was working hard so that they could build a comfortable home together! Wasn't that the utmost sign of devotion? He pushed these troublesome thoughts aside and focused on seeing his childhood friends again. Yes, a visit with Mary and Dickon's family would do him good. He deserved to spend some time with them.

As Colin stepped off the train, he was almost knocked down by the force of Mary's embrace.

"You've got no meat on your bones!" Was the first thing that escaped her mouth, followed closely by "I'm sure I could beat you in a race now!" He remembered their races through the garden at Misselthwaite and how much they invigorated him after he had discovered his own strength.

"It's good to see you," he managed to say.
"You too. I really missed you, Colin." She paused a second before adding, "Well come on, we've got go get going."

Colin followed his cousin, amazed at the transformations she had continued to make in his absence. When she first came to stay with them as a young girl, she was a sour, contrary, quiet, unhealthy creature. She had changed in every possible manner since then, exuding confidence and an endearing optimism. The only qualities she retained were her blonde hair and her hauntingly familiar eyes (which she got from Colin's mother, Mary's Aunt Lily) that caused shivers to creep down Colin's back.

When they arrived at Misselthwaite Manor, the home of Mary and Dickon, Mary dragged Colin not into the home but around the back and towards the gardens. Colin knew at once where she was leading him, and he was filled with a mix of dread and excitement at the same time. Mary's secret garden was where he learned to walk, to run, and to, in a sense, grab hold of life. It was also the site of the beginning of his close relationship with his father. They bonded in Lily's former garden, enjoying its beauty and getting to know each other as Colin's father told him about Lily. Now that Archibald was dead, Colin feared that the pain of loss would overwhelm him. But Mary pulled him along and so Colin followed.

As they approached the gate, a whirlwind of life soared out and collided with Colin. The child must have been about seven years old, and wisps of her curly blonde hair that had escaped from her braid framed her face, which had an angelic quality but seemed infused with a touch of mischief. She was the spitting image of Mary. She turned her surprised eyes up towards Colin, and he found himself looking back at Lily's inescapable eyes.

"Hello," the girl amiably said. "Will you come play with me?" Without waiting for a response, she took his hand and led him into the garden. As they walked into the secret garden, his mother's garden, Mary's garden, Colin felt overcome with...life.
"I could live for ever and ever," he whispered, echoing sentiments that the same garden had instilled in him years ago which he had since buried somewhere deep inside him.

"Clusters of crocus, purple and gold?" the girl sang. And Colin joined her, for of course he knew the words.
"Blankets of pansies, up from the cold. Lilies and iris, safe from the chill. Safe in my garden, snowdrops so still."

[ckeaton]

Posted: 4/21/05 at 7:53pm

LAST NIGHT I WITNESSED A BRAWL. it was a musical theatre brawl like none other. it was a battle for broadway...

i was having a nice dinner in new york after seeing a show. it was a very pleasant evening thus far. suddenly the whole restaurant started staring at the people who had just walked into the bar. it was idina, kristin and norbert. they kindly thanked everyone for their enthusiasm at seeing them. they told the crowd that they were all back in the city and wanted to reunite for a dinner after they went to see wicked together, to see how it was doing and see michelle who was still performing. they sat down at the bar and proceeded to have a quiet conversation. then it happened. a rowdy crowd walked in laughing and yelling. the whole restaurant turned to see who it was. it was none other than the whole original cast of avenue q: john, stephanie, jordan, ann, rick, jennifer and natalie. a hush came over the crowd and those seven proceeded to the bar where they saw the wicked threesome sitting at the bar, staring back at them. suddenly johnny tags yelled out "hey norbert, you still going to dinner with the group of tony losers?" idina: "hey, i won a tony!"
kristin: "i did too! and i should have won again this year! oops, just kidding idina baby! you totally deserved it..."
stephanie: "oh, do i smell dissension in the ranks?"
rick: "come on guys... attack!"
the avenue q gang suddenly all pulled out puppets and raced towards idina, norbert and kristin, hoping to take them out by making them uglier since the q gang was very jealous that they weren't the prettiest musical on broadway.
suddenly idina pulled out broom from behind the bar! she said "well kristin and norbert, are you coming?" kristin and norbert then sang to each other a little and then norbert went to hide behind the bar. idina flew off while kristin bravely stayed to fight the q gang by herself and prove to the world that wicked was indeed a force for good in the world!
after she succeeded she went to the bathroom to clean up. idina came flying back and norbert popped out. the two were reunited and flew off happily ever after. as they were leaving the crowd cheered for them, tears of joy spreading throughout the crowd. just then kristin came out of the bathroom, quickly assessed the situation, and started crying and yelling and having a great fit... "it was me! i did it! i saved the restaurant from that other horrible musical! i made you laugh, i made you cry. I SANG BETTER! don't cheer for her... IT WAS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE."
but the crowd would only remember idina, and all that she had done that night!

the end.

[ckeaton]

Posted: 4/21/05 at 7:54pm

The grass was green, the sky was Blue it was a cheerful vacation unlike the last time they saw each other. They had all come together to mourn the death of Yente.

Zidal has 6 sons they all have her eyes and Motels lips. Zon the oldest was climbing a tree. "ZON!" Tevye yelled as he came out of the car. "GET DOWN and kiss your grand father!" Tevye had recognized them from his pictures.

Golda comes out, a bitter old woman, screeching at Zidal...
"Whats the matter you to busy to write to your own mother?".

Motel defending his wife... "Tzeitel is very busy caring for the children and the house Golda".

Tzeitel looked at Hodel, still married to Perchick but had no kids. They remembered being girls having fun in the yard dreaming about what Yenta would bring them for a husband. Holdel has tried to have kids but can't. Hodel explained to Perchik that the tailor shop would have to close and that they had no money. Perchick asked why, Motel was a good tailor. Hodel told Perchick about his difficulties living in the United States learning English.

They walked in to the Temple The funeral was being held. They mourned and cried and reminisced for hours. They all left promising that they would keep in touch and meet more.

[ckeaton]

Posted: 4/21/05 at 8:06pm

Alright these are the entries. Two members failed to participate in time, so they will not be in the running for immunity.

If I have spoken to you about being a judge, send me your votes and comments (in PM) before the end of the day tomorrow. (Or you would like to be one, please send me a PM)

[apdarcey]

Posted: 4/21/05 at 8:32pm

good job everyone!

[TxTwoStep]

Posted: 4/21/05 at 11:53pm

very enjoyable reading...i wished all the survivor players had entered, though. "you got to be in it to win it..."

Updated On: 4/21/05 at 11:53 PM

[#1Elphie]

Posted: 4/21/05 at 11:58pm

Yeah, the two who didn't enter should have! They're very fun to read. They're all so different, yet so creative! I've never written fan-fic before, so it was a cool challenge.

[Justice]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 2:46am

Actually, I am very upset at the time given. I had to work this evening, and had to be there at 4, which did not give me enough time, especially to turn it in before the deadline - as I got off of work at 1. This is going to hurt me, and I wish the deadline would have been tomorrow at 8, instead of tonight.

[ckeaton]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 8:15am

Part of the challenge was to see who could be the most "creative" under "pressure" I made it 1pm - 8pm so that the afternoon folks could have 3-4 hours, and the evening folks could have 3-4 hours.

I'm sorry it didn't work out for you this time.

[ckeaton]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 10:55am

Recruiting another judge... anyone?

[NYadgal]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 10:57am

I'm reading right now! (not that I'm a judge or anything...)

Updated On: 4/22/05 at 10:57 AM

[bwaysinger]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 11:15am

Good job, guys.

[kissmycookie]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 11:16am

Great work given the time constraints...

[apdarcey]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 1:00pm

i'm interested to see which was each person's... though i have my guesses...

[#1Elphie]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 1:13pm

These are my guesses:
TwoStep's was #1, mine was #2, yours (apdarcey) was #3, and Liam's was #4.

[apdarcey]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 1:21pm

and elphie......










you are right! i did write number 3... i originally had written a true fan story until ck alerted me to the fact that it was supposed to be fiction. i had to quickly make up a story because i had to go out for the night. i had no idea that spelling and grammar would count.. oh well. i don't mind coming in last this round i guess. i thought i gave it a good go for not understanding the question!

[#1Elphie]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 1:25pm

I thought it was creative, apdarcey! Very funny. And very well done under those time constraints.

[apdarcey]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 1:27pm

thanks! apparently the judges did not agree. i bow to your secret garden and tx's caroline letter.

[TxTwoStep]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 1:27pm

so by process of elimination, (since we know JUSTICE had a bad day to try and write), does that mean LIAM wrote the fourth?

[Liam]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 1:28pm

mine was bad

[apdarcey]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 1:29pm

it wasn't liam! it beat mine...

[#1Elphie]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 1:31pm

What do you mean it beat yours? How do you know the scores?

[TxTwoStep]

Posted: 4/22/05 at 1:31pm

i think "bad" is too harsh a word. i truly don't know whether the language use that has become your trademark on here is intentional or not (or how old you really are), but i do think IF you made an effort for more normalized language use (carefully, i did not say "better" just more commonplace) in the submission, then i think you are to be congratulated for that effort, Liam.