VOTE: October '08 Challenge

[kailhofer]

[area]What follows is intended for Mature Audiences only.[/area]

The challenge was to craft a classic-style horror story that explained the motivations of an evil henchman in 1000 words or less.


THE FOLLOWING ENTRIES WERE RECEIVED:


_
HE



IT got done because HE ordered it, with a nod; not wanting to be trapped by words.

At first I thought HE was just a nut when he said HE wanted to rule. HE was tired of being second fiddle to his parents, useless as they were. To me HE was lonely, just another harmless wacko that told interesting if not bizarre stories. HE claimed he had money and power. I was the only one who didn’t ridicule Him at the coffee shop. I just drank my drink and nodded my head.

One day I received an invitation to a foreign government affair. I’ve never been to a government gala or anything. I rented a tux. As I entered I was escorted to a table in front and sitting there was HE Himself dressed up as I had never witnessed. HE was son of the late rulers of his country. HE in his street garb and manner made mention; I didn’t believe Him. I just humored Him. This was a funeral and coronation all in one. His parents, the Extreme Rulers died in a plane crash. Was HE sad?. Not sure. I espied a glint in His eye. HE nodded for me to follow Him announcing to great fanfare, that even in this time of ‘mourning’ I was the guest of honor because I truly befriended Him.
_____________________________

Lacking a job I could say I enjoyed, I accepted His invitation and moved to His country. He gave me many duties and tutored me in the ways of government. I carried out all manner of His dictates some strange and others border line. A test?

HE had ultimate control over the lives of everyone. I was to realize, so did I. I found solace in becoming the second most powerful person in His country. I was wanted, even loved for the first time in my life.

One day I hit my stride and found my calling, my bliss, through Him. HE felt that a number of His military were about to conduct a coup. Responding immediately to His suggestions I ordered their torture and execution, “On his behest”. He watched as I conducted the activities. He Nodded smiling as I went along.

I learned much from Mao, Hitler, Pol Pot, Stalin and The Americans at GITMO. History is replete with artists in this line of work. I chose to work in a modern setting ignoring the past greats like tomas de Torquemada. HE was happy, ergo was I. I never knew I had it in me. What a wonderful discovery. I always denied it. No not I, but yes! HE gave me the freedom. With His nod and smile, I just let it rip.

I then purged all the intellectuals, writers, artist and the like since they don’t ever color in the lines. In our country the loss didn’t matter. A cultural wasteland? Who really cared anyway. We had enough human capital. I loved it. I loved Him for letting the real me come alive!

I staged lavish entertainment extravaganzas for Him where by the Piece de Resistance would be the public execution of the current enemies of the state while rewarding those who turned in the most people. He once mentioned something about traitors and spies. I soothed his worries. I made it happen. What joy on His face when HE beheld it.

HE allowed me my most creative ideas. I could work in the arts, music, military anywhere. HE just had to hint, any situation, Nod. It was taken care of, on earth as in my most dreamed of heaven. Real, Power a drug once injected never leaves the blood stream, propagating itself, a virus, growing in intensity and need. I did anything HE needed and wanted.
__________________________________

This was His country. I was His Loyal Servant. His only true friend. HE cared for me treated me with respect. I would never do a thing to hurt my best only real friend, ever. I was acting under His command and I WAS IMPORTANT, I was RECOGNIZED. Yes I was. HE was the LAW and I … It’s arm

I was once questioned about guilt? Not at all. And I sleep very well. The interorrogator, he died.

Once, I though of inquiring as to why he disliked, distrusted and despised so many. I knew to question Him in any manner was to begin the spiral down in His estimation. So to keep my head, others lost theirs. Oh well so be it.

I was not a hermit by any means. I had my share of lovers. I discovered power is an aphrodisiac. My affairs were short lived, figuratively as well as reality. Most were abhorrent to Him. He liked to play ‘The Game’: When introduced they were asked to leave immediately. Any word of pain, disenchantment usually meant I would have to have them “put to sleep” as HE liked to say. He got a kick out of the American euphemism for destroying animals as “being put to sleep”. “Wake up NOW!” he would yell. We just had to laugh. I would echo his command. He was just so crazy.

___________________________________________


As we aged HE was less and less open with His staff. I became the conduit for communication. HE Himself was depressed and slightly paranoid. I did my best for Him. I was loyal to my benefactor, my ruler.

As I end my days a content old man, retired to this lovely island HE purchased for me, I can reminisce. He made me artist, a creator, and a weaver of real stories. The main characters usually died, and not too nicely I will add. Oh how we loved those endings. The surprise on the faces. Each one I made a bit different with a twist here or there.

And in my bliss I do yet for Him. HE still smiles with a nod.


[align=center]The End[/align]



* * *



The Uncommon Bodgewick



“…just a common bludger doing an honest day's work Gov’nor.”

Edwin Bodgewick’s sooty spider-like fingers curled around the money and snatched it from the Doctor’s hand. Doctor Trago stared down at Edwin and the slouched bundle at his feet with visible disgust. Edwin stared back, but couldn’t bring himself to meet the Doctor’s glare. Instead his eyes followed the buttons of the Doctor’s frock coat down and finally settled on the gold chain of his pocket watch… what a beautiful pocket watch, Edwin wondered at its weight.

The Doctor was a nervous man, of melancholic humor, perhaps genius. Prone to vacillation, the Doctor had only recently determined to vet his theories, and to accomplish that goal he needed a man of Edwin’s temperament. It was obvious to Edwin that the Doctor felt it beneath a man of science to associate with a common flue-faker. But the common man capable of the occasional uncommon task was exactly what the good Doctor needed. Necessity does make strange bedfellows after all. Edwin cared little for the Doctor’s ultimate ends, but his means were very… provocative. “Bring her to my operating theatre then.” The Doctor’s voice curdled with derision, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled. This always made Edwin self-conscious of the ever-present smell of soot that lingered about him.

The Doctor strutted to the table as he removed his coat, donned an apron, and pulled on his surgical gloves with taut precision. His hair, grey at the temples, was slicked back except for a few stray strands that dangled madly in front of his face and gave him a disheveled look in spite of his impeccable and proper demeanor. It gave the impression that something was not quite balanced in the Victorian gentleman’s mind. Edwin followed, dropping their commerce on the table with a thud that rattled the Doctor’s delicate instruments. The Doctor immediately opened the pouch revealing a beautiful young body, cold with death.

“She looks young for a prostitute. She’s not dead more than four hours?” the Doctor finally asked shakily, after a moment’s lapse of composure. Edwin nodded. The Doctor ran his hands along her pale cheek. Then turning her head to the side he examined the sooty smudges and bruising all around her neck. Edwin nervously suppressed a giggle, a kinetic spasm, that started in the pit of his paunch and threatened to race up into the back of his throat. He looked down at his soot covered hands and picked at an open gory slice in his thumb, bright crimson through the black. A smile pulled back the corners of his mouth. The Doctor was too preoccupied to notice. Edwin’s tongue worked its way around his snaggletooth until, biting down, he managed to regain control of himself. The gaslight incandesced gloomily.

The Doctor opened the makeshift body bag further and began to nervously unbutton her blouse; his eyes pulsed with scientific fervor. Three times he looked at her maniacally from crown to heel, his hands groping delicately here and there. Edwin watched on lasciviously.

“Where did you find this one?” the Doctor asked as if talking to a stool. His hand fumbled for a scalpel on the metal tray at his side. The grate of metal made Edwin’s eye twitch… or was it the Doctor’s question?

“Dorset Street near Doss House… it’s crawlin’ with dollymops Gov’nor,” he mumbled.

“Is that not where you did the last?” The Doctor’s head was turned to the side as if he was listening. He was bent forward over the girl cutting and connecting wires and tubing from the arcane machinery at his side. A drizzle of blood ran off the edge of the table and began to puddle on the floor.

“Aye,” Edwin began to feel sheepish. The Doctor couldn’t know. Edwin watched as the drizzle of blood increased to a steady stream, the puddle… a pool. The Doctor had only unbuttoned the top few buttons of her blouse, so that he could better expose her neck. Edwin could barely control his lust as he watched the Doctor’s bloodied hands feeling for the glands inside her neck, then vigorously driving thick metal needles in.

“Did we not discuss finding specimens in different location?”

“Aye,” Edwin felt a moment of relief. That was all this questioning was about. Never on the same street the Doctor had said; best to be discreet. For a moment Edwin thought the Doctor had suspected; the Doctor would not have approved. His mind began to replay the events of the afternoon. He could see the chimney brush in his hands, in front of the fireplace the drop cloth covered with soot. The girl… this girl… was in the next room, sitting at the piano. She had eyed him when he walked in, following her father. He had recognized the wanton look for what it was… or had he? It was all he could think of while he worked.

The Doctor stood up, wiping blood from his hands with a cloth. “I think this time it shall work.” His eyes popped with anticipation. Reaching to the machine he turned a large dial and a clicking static whir began. A pump began to work slowly at first, then faster. Edwin watched. Tubes and wires protruded from her neck. The tubes jumped and jiggled as fluids flowed from her to the machine and back. The devilish vacuum machine made an odd sucking sound on and off. Edwin watched glass jars begin to fill with bile and blood. Then somehow the sound of a death rattle began to swell in the girl’s throat. Edwin recognized it; he had heard it earlier the same day. He couldn’t help but come closer, until he was standing right above her.

And then her eyes opened, and she stared deep into Edwin’s soul, her eyes like shallow pools on a moonlit night. A tear ran down the side of her cheek… and Edwin fought to suppress the urge to strangle his love again.


[align=center]The End[/align]



* * *



Unhinged!



Lightning flashed across the darkening sky over the castle of the mysterious Lord Baron Duke of Earl Von Hitchercock, the evil, corrupt, villainous, rat bastard and generally unpleasant mad scientist of Dungmeister Retreat, the swanky get away for vain seeking, jet setting, evil thrill seekers. The rapid thunder rippled in and out of the silence, reverberating through the ancient stonewalls of his diabolical laboratory, nestled in the castle’s dungeon, which was similar in design to other laboratories of that day. The realtors of Century 17 wouldn’t consider selling a castle without one.

In an obscure corner of the castle, was the lone figure of a half man, half gremlin like troll, who spent much of his waking hours with his imaginary thoughts that were more real to him than reality is to the rest of us. He rarely bathed for filth was one of the few things he could call his own.

Morley merely existed. He had no ambition, no purpose and no passion for anything except for the momentary exhilaration with each new curiosity he discovered. He separated himself from reality, exploring his musings as if the rules of society did not apply to him. But he had affection for the castle. It was his soul. He couldn’t see himself living without the comfort of these ancient stonewalls, a place where he intended to rot the rest of his life away in servitude to the evil Baron. His service was the price of his security and his castle home.

Like a trained animal, he bolted whenever his master summoned him.

“Morley” the evil one called, “Bring me the plans for the village orphanage.”

Von Hitchercock was currently entertaining the charming Ingrid DeWeatherborn, Lady of Downspinster Township with stories of his generosity toward orphans and the financially deprived. There were no such plans, but it sounded good in the telling and he wanted to impress her right down to her tightly fitted corset.

Morley came into the room without the plans, for there never were any plans and to the surprise of the Baron, with his penis hanging out. Obviously, the Baron had interrupted him at an awkward moment and Morley did not have the presence of mind to give much attention to details of that nature.

“What were your plans looking for?” Morley mumbled. “Not enuff nuff nuff” he said incoherently.

The Baron became anxious that Miss DeWeatherborn might turn around and become incensed by the total absurdity of the predicament, so he continued to position himself between Morley and Lady Ingrid in order to prevent the disaster that was seemingly begging to happen. Then suddenly, Morley walked over to the wall with his back to the both of them appearing to be off in his own world. The Baron thought Morley was merely talking to himself as usual, however in actuality he was relieving himself against the wall.

As the Baron began to whisk Lady Ingrid toward the door before she found out about Morley’s indiscretion, she slipped in a puddle of Morley’s urine and fell backwards hitting her head on the hard stone floor. When she awoke some hours later, she stormed out of the castle with a bandage tied around her head and her dress reeking from the foul stench of Morley’s untimely imprudence.

The Baron screamed, “Morley, get your ass in here now!” Then, with the visual image of Morley walking in backwards sporting a naked ass, he changed his summons to, “Morley, may I see you for a moment?”

Without hearing a sound, the Baron began a room-by-room search throughout the castle until he found Morley focusing intently on drops of water as they cascaded downward in the castle’s cellar. Instead of scolding him, the Baron sent Morley to search for a recently deceased person to use in one of his experiments, thinking this would keep him busy and out of the way while he hand mopped the ballroom floor.

Within the hour, Morley was back at the castle with a corpse draped over his shoulder. As the Baron inspected the body, he noticed that it had no eyes, just sockets where the eyes should have been. He asked Morley, “What happened to the eyes?” Morley said to the Baron, “They’re in my pocket,” proud of himself that he knew the answer to the question. And with that, Morley removed the two eyes and held them up so the Baron could see they were in good condition.

“Why did you cut out his eyes and put them in your pocket?” his master asked angrily. “So they wouldn’t get dirty,” Morley answered with indignation.

Upon further inspection of the corpse, he noticed that the eye sockets were filled with graham cracker crumbs. The Baron pointed this out to Morley, who answered in exasperation, “Where else was I to put the crumbs that was in my pocket.” And with that, he walked out of the room feeling unappreciated.

The Baron decided to use Morley as the next specimen for his experiment seeing that it was always his intent to do something about Morley’s mental inconsistencies. He strapped Morley to the laboratory table and placed the brain wave alignment apparatus on his head and the second one on himself. The outcome was supposed to be that Morley’s lack of mental prowess would be replaced by a copy of the Baron’s brainwave patterns, giving Morley stronger focus and reinforcing his mental capabilities. He thought that maybe if Morley had an efficient brain, he could serve in a more intelligent way without the usual mishaps.

The Baron pulled the switch to his mind transference machine only to have Morley’s mentality transferred to him and Morley’s mind remained unchanged.

Now, with both of them having the same simple-minded, slow-witted, mentality, they decided to do the only thing that was left for them to do…they went into politics.


[align=center]The End[/align]

[kailhofer]

Voting has now closed.

Congratulations to J. Davidson Hero, winner of the "Evil Henchman" Challenge, for the story "The Uncommon Bodgewick".


For the record, these were the authors of the stories this month:

HE by Richard Tornello
The Uncommon Bodgewick by J. Davidson Hero
Unhinged! by Mark Edgemon


Thank you to each of these writers. Your continued time and effort makes these contests possible.


Be looking for Discount Magic Challenge November 7th!

[kailhofer]

Last year, this challenge was rated mature. There were 7 stories, 28 votes, and 58 messages about the challenge.

All I can guess is that as the zine slumps, so do the challenges. Numbers seem down in views, topics, and posts the last 2 months.

Then again, since I pick something different each time to write about, maybe it's that. Maybe because the topic and genre bounce so much, we never pick up a steady audience. I dunno. I try to pick things that are different so people stay interested... Maybe that's exactly opposite of what I should be doing.

Still, horror was very popular last time. Why should it not be so now? It's Halloween, fer crissakes.

It's also hard to tell since sometimes those who flash are big parts of the discussion of the month. Other times, we seem like a different crowd entirely.

Let me point it back at the market. What would you writers out there like to see in these challenges? If you didn't go for this one, what about it didn't trip your trigger?

Nate

[kailhofer]

The response to this also allows the readers to delve into the minds of the writer. I sent mine out to 2 people that QC my writings as well as my wife. They were relieved when I explained the Contest. They had never heard me speak nor write in that vein. They thought I was in need of some heavy drugs.

I guess that means as the person who thought it up, I'd need medication as well... Plus, my wife told me my example was just darn creepy.

In yours, I liked that something so simple as affection led to trust and that took an ordinary person and turned him into a monster.

In Hero's, I liked how he came up with a marriage of convenience. Bodgewick need to kill, his master needed someone who came up with bodies. Good reveal, too.

In Mark's, I must confess my favorite part was the punchline. Horror and political satire blended was not what I expected, and thus was pleasantly surprised.

Nate

[kailhofer]

In response to Nate:

I like having the genre/requirements change each month. First of all its a good exercise. We can all benefit from trying to write in different genres/subgenres even if we have a favorite that we typically like to stick with. Secondly, by having the challenge be different each month you may draw new people in who might be interested in one genre and not another. However, those writers should then consider my first point and continue with the challenge in future months. Finally, I think that repeating the same challenge too often may lead to fatigue and decline in interest. [snip]

Now back to my original response. Nate I think the way you are running the challenge is great. I think you have excellent examples that are very enjoyable to read and I don't think I'd change the challenge a bit. It was a good idea to post the topics ahead as you did in previous months (give teasers at least) and I would think it should help draw people in.

Thanks. I try to come up with things that interest me, figuring others should be interested, too. Plus, writing those examples makes me keep writing every month, too.

The only two suggestions I can make (please take with a grain of NaCl) is to maybe, every few months, repeat one of the most successful challenges from the past. If the repeats were successful again you'd at least know that the type of challenge is a factor. The other suggestion is to put some challenge ideas or genres/subgenres up in a poll and ask which ones people would like to participate in.

I think from the name of it, it should be obvious that next month's genre is fantasy. That was based on the success of the Fantasy Subgenre Challenge, so I am kind of doing as you suggested. Horror was a big hit last time, so I repeated it for the Halloween season this year. Holiday theme was a hot one last December, so I hope it hits big again.

I know some of the other writers on Aphelion may be busy working on longer stories and don't have time for a flash story. Being a father of three kids under three years of age, the flash contest is one of the only things I do have time for and having a monthly regular deadline instead of a nebulous some-day-this-will-be-published kind of deadline works well for me.

That my 2 cents.

Hero

I understand completely. My three kids are now 10-14, but they really don't demand less on your time as they grow. Plus work is just hectic. I had 3 twelve-hour days and 2 eights in the last week. Which turns you into a zombie who doesn't want to write.

Myself, I can't write unless I can blot out everything else. If my wife has a meeting or something, and I have to keep half an ear out on the kids (even though I know they're just watching tv or something innocuous like that) I can't write. If people are talking in the room, I can't write unless I can crank up the iPod until I can't hear them... which hurts my ears.

So, luckily, I had 24 hours in August all to myself at my parent's cottage, where I wrote September's and October's examples, plus the challenge announcements for those months as well as November's. That made it a whole lot easier to tease the upcoming months. Since then, I've had enough time to write 250 words of November's example, which I need to post on the 7th... I haven't missed the mark yet, but someday I know it's coming...

I probably could have put off posting the Index, but I felt I waited long enough trying to get something 'official' done with all those parts. That burned a weekend, but darn it, I thought it was morally the right thing to do.

Anyhow, here's hoping I get some writing done today.

[kailhofer]

Natalie, perhaps you would have felt differently about the quality of stories this month if one of your many prolific relatives had submitted...

Now, I don't support a statement like that. She's entitled to her opinion, even if it hurts to hear. There are a lot of good writers putting out excellent pieces, and understandably some competitiveness. Nobody likes to hear bad news.

Hopefully, she will elaborate... but give her the chance. I find that negative comments are actually the most helpful in improving one's craft. Even if you don't agree, there are bound to be kernels of truth that can be useful.

BTW, she may not know who wrote which stories when she votes. There's a good chance she might be voting for someone she's not related to.

If you want to see a really thorough evisceration, look at one that was handed to me by a pro, right here in this forum: http://aphelion-webzine.com/forum/viewt ... =1533#1533
Some of the formatting is messed up now, but I've never seen someone handed their hat quite as thoroughly by someone who clearly knew more about it than me.

[kailhofer]

And to the ed:
I'm not realy a writer, in fact i really dont enjoy it, but i do usually enjoy reading the stories. I enjoy the everchanging topics too, though i really did feel that this months stories were way below the quality of what we have seen in the past few months...
I'll also add my 2c though if you dont mind. I think you should ralther enter your 'example' stories in the contest, a couple of times now i would much ralther have voted for yours than those on the blog! another idea - if you ever run out of them, instead of giving a topic, give a list of ten random items that must be included in the story such as a mug, a scared little girl, a shark, etc...

First off, I'm not an editor. I have no official status beyond Pain in the Butt. I would not be surprised one day to see Rob Wynne change my profile to say that.

Secondly, thank you for your evaluation of the quality of my story. Much as any of the others, I try to please the audience, too.

However, I don't feel it would be right to enter them. Sometimes, I would love to put them head to head. I like to compete, too. Last time I wrote one that could, for part 2 of the Aphelion Project Challenge, Bill Wolfe called me the Red Baron because I was hard to shoot down, and I was humbled by the praise. But the thing is, I've thought about the challenge (sometimes for months) before it's posted. Occasionally, the challenge changes a couple of times because after trying it myself I thought it was too difficult or not interesting enough. Plus, I write a separate challenge announcement to go with it that hopefully garners enough interest in those who see it that they want to enter. Those deep, dark recesses of my subconscious had way more time than anyone who enters the challenge. That's not fair to everyone else.

So, much as I'd like to, I just can't. It wouldn't be right.

Nate

[Robert_Moriyama]

It will be pretty impressive if Mark E. can adapt or polish something suitable that fast -- if he can come up with something from scratch, it'll be downright amazing. (To say nothing of being helpful with no expectation of reward...)

Feeling lazy and unproductive by comparison,

RM

[kailhofer]

Perhaps, Gator, you just fell prey to her buttering up.

Well, you do your homework. I give you that.

Nate: I hear where youre comming from on not entering your own work, but maybe every so often you should do some arm twisting to get someone else to post the topic so that you can enter to? just a thought...

So far there's been a real lack of anyone volunteering to help run challenges, or most other things around Aphelion.

But, not to hurt Nate's feelings, I didn't think his example was particulary chilling. It was enjoyable to read and I could compliment it in a number of other ways (although I won't because I don't think Nate deserves any more ego stroking in this thread), but I was not chilled by it.

Sure, the closest thing I've come to a fan in 25 years of writing, and you think it would actually go to my head? I've half a mind to leave the shrine to Natalie I'm building and demand a duel.

As to chilling, that's a highly subjective thing. According to my better half, it was creepy to her because he's someone you begin to root for, then you find he steals dead bodies, strips and feels them up, and then you learn he's kept her alive through it all and raped her while she was still helpless. Plus, she was then going to be his prisoner in a dungeon until she fell in love with him. I thought that would be disturbing. However, everybody fears different things.

I emphatically agree with Tornello on this point. My interpretation of the challenge didn't include trying to make the character sympathetic in any way, at least not Bodgewick.

I disagree. I think you did. So did Rick, and so did Mark, each to a different extent.

Bodgewick is a subordinate with a crappy job, lower class, and being scolded by his employer. Most people can get into that.

In HE, the protagonist was lesser class who hates his job, an average Joe in comparison to the villain. He's also someone extremely happy to receive the affection of another. He gains a good friend. People like making friends, and get into that.

For Mark's, Morley was clearly damaged goods--a retarded individual in lost to his own world. He portrayed as pathetic: " the lone figure of a half man, half gremlin like troll, who spent much of his waking hours with his imaginary thoughts that were more real to him than reality is to the rest of us. He rarely bathed for filth was one of the few things he could call his own." People get behind such individuals.

Not only do I believe that you all started off making your characters sympathetic, I believe you all needed to. A monochromatic player composed of only dislikable evil would, well, suck to read, and be boring. The characters needed the "lighter" side to make the other side all the more dark--it was vital for the emotional impact you needed to invoke in the audience. Your goal, after all, was to chill the reader.

Think about your favorite villains from fiction. The thing about them is no matter what else you might have felt about them, you also liked them, I'm almost certain. For example, Hannibal Lecter is damn scary, but also charismatic. He has a set of rules he follows--he won't kill his foes if they're challenging and polite. At the very least, you can respect the villain's skill level at whatever they do.

Our characters here may not have been the uber-villain, but they needed to be the lead in the stories, so they needed to be a little liked, IMO.


There, I think that gets me caught up again, other than to say good luck to Mark, since now there's a lot of pressure on him to not make his play stink. While I acted in many plays in high school, I hate writing them. Last one I had to do became 2 mountain climbers on a ledge, one of whom murdered the other by page 3. Kept me from having to write any more.

Nate

[kailhofer]

I'll post a topic for one month if you like...
i'm just volunteering for one for now though, so don't get your hopes up too much! only thing is, i'm not going to post an example stroy like you usually do... cos i'm not that much into the writing thing - and i promise my relatives will have NO advantage!
you would just need ot brief me on teh rules, dates, time limits usualy set etc.... if you want...

N

I suppose I'm not opposed to a "guest host" once in a while, although you may not want to volunteer until you've seen all that's involved:

1) You have to think of a topic to write about. Said topic has to be interesting enough to make people want to read the stories, as well as appeal to writers on several different continents. By and large, the readership here is writers, and you have to cater to that audience. Generally, I try to make all the stories focus on some part of the writing process, so by entering, the writers can be assured they are improving their art in some way. This last time, it focused on the motivations of a supporting character. Motivations aren't as important to a reader, but they are vital to writing a good story.

2) Whatever it is you thought of, you have to make it harder, and more specific. You can't just tell them to write about winter, or a feeling of sadness. That's not challenging enough for the writers who enter this. You have to give them something hard. Witness those spoon stories that were your favorite. I thought I'd be lucky to get 2 with that, but there were a bunch that came in--and they were good.

3) Throw in an extra requirement or two that has to be in the story. That helps the author's form the plot into some linear path in their mind. For extra challenge, you may want one of them to be a really oddball item like an Oscar statuette or a bag of moldy grapes.

4) Evaluate what you have. Can it be done in a thousand words? Is it impossible to finish? Change if necessary.

5) You can copy the rules from an earlier challenge, but you have to write an introduction just like you would for one of your toastmasters pieces. You may have a great idea, but you still have to wrap it in a pretty package to garner interest.

6) Generally, the challenges are set to come out about a week after the first Sunday of a month. Aphelion is supposed to come out on the first Sunday, and then that would give the zine a week's worth of undivided attention. For two weeks writers send you their stories by PM, and you have to read them and decide if they meet the requirements or not. Send messages to all of them, letting them know they got through, and also advising anyone if they have to revise their story. (They will try to stretch the rules to the utmost and you have to stand your ground on it or another author will be upset that they didn't get the same options.) You have to format the stories a little (you notice they all have the same size fonts & number of spaces down before the story starts, etc.). That's so everybody is even for the voting. No bias due to the way it looks.

7) After the 2 weeks, you need to write a small summary of the challenge for when they are all posted. You need to pick the stories in random order and remove the bylines. You post them, adding the poll question of which did they like best. Each story name is added one poll option at a time. You set the poll for 6 days. That gives you the day you entered it plus 6 days, then the poll closes automatically on the 7th day at the same time it was first posted.

8 ) When the poll closes, you need to post a list of the stories and the authors, along with a short congratulatory note. People will be lurking online to see the names as soon as it closes.

And that's about it. Still game?

Nate

[kailhofer]

If the powers that be, and you, being the flash challenge organiser, will let it go through, then yes, I'm still game (for once only though, i must add!!)

And now that i know the criteria, I'll try some stuff out and come up with something... maybe for january? that gives me enough time to think, i think?

I may also need a lesson or two in making the poll thing work... but i'm sure thats not a difficult bridge to cross...

its your call!

Actually, you don't need anyone's approval. Anyone at any time can post a challenge. That was part of the point when Rob Wynne made this folder.

I was just the first to do it.

I received a few nervous PMs about this, worried that I was leaving the challenges for good, and that the challenges could be in jeopardy.

I'm not quitting the challenges, and I think the notion behind them would stand up to a guest host, even if it was to go totally awry (but I don't think it would).

In thinking about it, though, the challenges (as they are) were right for me. Luckily, enough other people have liked the ideas, and it's caught on, but doing it as I would have isn't perfect fit for someone else.

Before trying it my way, why not try one your own way? It could be anything. Best first line, best poem, best short, or best novella. Stories of any length, any topic. Maybe something about living teddy bears. Anything.

There's no limit on how many writing challenges run at one time. No matter what is posted, it's all about community involvement. A different idea may draw out more writers, old friends, or maybe a whole new crowd.

You could do something like GDJ's Blind Collaborators, where everyone wrote a part of the story without knowing what everyone else did. Or maybe everyone can only write one paragraph of a continuing story. Maybe they can enter all they can write in one hour or one day. The possibilities are endless.

Whatever you come up with, I'm more than willing to try it, too.

Then, if you still want to do one like I do, fine. By then the market (aka the writers out there) would be reassured and on board with you.

What do you think?

[kailhofer]

As Nate has so ably proved time and time again with the Flash Fiction challenges, running this sort of writing challenge is no easy prospect. *I* couldn't do it, and it's my e-zine!

And Nate, if I haven't publicly praised you enough for giving your time to this excellent method of helping writers to focus, I do so now. With vigor! I'll not soon forget how your comments on the rough draft of "Fly By Wire" helped me keep focused on the real requirements of the story. Only Jeff had more influence on me as I was crafting that tale, even though I carefully listened to everyone on the Nightwatch team who was reading the roughs over my shoulder. I knew that there were only three people who needed to really be satisfied that I'd turned in my best effort. Myself, yourself, and Jeff - not necessarily in that order, of course.

Nor will I forget that it was a Flash challenge here that pulled me out of my doldrums and got me back writing again after all my personal trials and tribulations of the past six years. That "sequels" challenge proved to me that not only could I get back on the horse again, but that I could make that bugger gallop off towards new horizons.

Thanks for giving me my writing back. When I get the draft 0 of the new story done, I'm going to count on you, Jeff, Bill, Wishbone, Bob, Rob, Jaimie, and Kate to drag me over the coals until I have something that I can offer up to sell.

OK, I have airships and pirates and world-dominating madmen to direct on my tiny little stage. See you soon!

Dan

I'm all a-blush. If you folks don't stop with this praise, it's all going to go straight to my head.

Thank you for your kind words.

I love fiction. I love flash. I love the Aphelion community.

The work involved seems like a small price to be a part of it and help it grow as much as it can.

Nate