[Writing Contest] - THE ARENA

me-skywalker

pickarooney wrote: »

He's thrown the belt in the bin!

haha Ill retire gracefull with my 100% record thank you very much ;-)

Ah no.. I'm heading off for 2 weeks holidays on Sunday so will be bsuy al lthsi week getting stuff ready for it and new book out tomorrow Ill be reading all week so unfortunatley I wont have the time.

Hopefully will still be running in 2/3 weeks and I'll try get my belt back from whoever the Champ may be.

me-skywalker

Since I vacated the belt while on my sabbatical and nobody has taken up the task I shall return for a Battle Royal for the Title. All Challengers 1 Theme, 1 winner.

Anyone still interested in this?

furzebush

me-skywalker wrote: »

Since I vacated the belt while on my sabbatical and nobody has taken up the task I shall return for a Battle Royal for the Title. All Challengers 1 Theme, 1 winner.

Anyone still interested in this?

I'm new to this. How do you read the entries? All I see is your chat, challenging in itself. Has a new theme been decided? Still 300 words? And do you put your entry in a reply like this?

me-skywalker

Hello furzebrush. You write your entry in here in this thread as a normal post. IT can be 300-600 words(as far as I know). The challenger propses the theme to the current holder. Once the holder accepts the challenge the 24hours starts, once both entries are submitted people vote for their favourite by 'Thanking' that post, and after the 24hours from when challenge accepted the person with the most 'Thanks' wins. You can 'Thank' a post after you have post 10 times on boards.ie as I see you have posted under 10 times Im not sure you have this functionality yet.

[Writing Contest] - THE ARENA

---

In an effort to provide an outlet and a little side entertainment during the down periods between (rounds of) the bigger writing contests, this is an experiment in a new format of one on one writing battles. My idea is to give this a shot in a fairly rough format and to tweak the rules as it goes on. Here's how it works:

We start off with the first two contestants to throw their hats in the wring. A theme is given and the two have 24 hours to write around 300 words on that theme. Voting then begins, using the thanks button, and runs for 24 hours. The winner then stays on and faces the next challenger.

angelll

I'd be interested in the title holder v everyone else

furzebush

Thanks for quick explanation. I'll keep watching and reading, and maybe by the time I've ten posts I'll have the courage to take part. Looking forward to reading the next two challengers

partnership

Thanks for the explanation - not sure how many posts I have but will try to get them up in order to be able to vote. Well done to all participants to date - keep it going!

slavetothegrind

in a fit of madness i'll have a go.

no writing history and very much in admiration of the standard here, antilles really writes well if you are published point me to it and i'll buy it!!!!

if nothing else it will restart the thread.

i can't check back here untill late tonight but i will do so then

thanks for the pointer in your sig pickarooney!

mari2222

The Disappeared

Slavetothegrind.

The End

slavetothegrind

????

is that a title or a remark?

i was waiting for the last winner to post

i'm game if you are?

FewFew

slavetothegrind wrote: »

????

is that a title or a remark?

i was waiting for the last winner to post

i'm game if you are?

Nah, think it was just a comment on you restarting the thread and then disappearing.

If you're the challenger, then you pick the theme. Then the champ has 24 hrs to accept, then you've 24hrs to post up your pieces from the time he/she accepts. Then there's 24hrs of voting. Rinse and repeat.

me-skywalker

slavetothegrind wrote: »

????


i was waiting for the last winner to post

sorry about the delay havnt had much time recently.

slavetothegrind wrote:

hi,

you up for it?

Lets get the ball rolling on this!! Theme please?

smcgiff

me-skywalker wrote: »

Lets get the ball rolling on this!! Theme please?

Procrastination

me-skywalker Vs slavetothegrind

slavetothegrind

procrastination it is!

i am regretting this now having read all of the previous posts again...but what the hey....

me-skywalker

I was closer now than I had ever been since the dance began, since I began to dance. I had felt this fever build in me every week now. The wave coursing its way through my body, relentlessly gathering momentum, my pulse raced, my fingers itched. I skipped around another challenger. My ankle was on fire it was bruised and gashed, it ached with every footfall. I persisted through the agonizing pain. I had no choice, I was blind to it. My eyes set, hawking the line. Victory was closer. I was pursued by another challenger, dumb to my determination. Underestimating my steel.

My empire, I graced year on year, in the blistering heat and the skin starching freeze. My grass, my concrete, my steel, my people, my birds; each of it all built to recognize my presence. My name echoed through its halls, around its walls and onto its fields and out of his doors. My soldiers, my slaves and my masters; all took seat to watch my dance, my spectacle, my glorious victory. Week in week out I was the man they came to see. The man they feared and longed to be.

The lights gleamed and seemed to converge on my figure. The rain meshed above my arena and dripped, each like crystal with my reflection. The baying voices screamed at me in support. They blurred into one voice, I could feel their boom vibrating through my pain, pushing me on, willing me to succeed. With my people all throbbing and singing in a religious unison, I felt like a giant. I could skip over water, through mountains and through fire, with this passion how could I fail? I never had. This was bigger; this was the pinnacle of every man’s dream. I felt electricity charging in my veins, pulsing from every corner of my body, my brain, my heart, my mind. Concentrating my body to follow its instincts. My will to succeed was etched into my eyes you could see the grimace brushed off. The rain had made a slick glimmer on the grass; it splashed and sprayed as I took a drop of the shoulder to the right and rounded my final foe.


I was looking out the window. The panes fogged up form my warm stale breath. It hadn’t been washed in at least 3years, as long as I had been in this morgue. The great tree in the garden had been feeling the winter. I turned oaken limbs to the sink two feet from the edge of my bed. I washed the cobwebs from mind and the gut leaden feeling I had let myself fall asleep with. I watched that tape at least once every 2 months. I could never watch the last 5seconds. The other residents would sometimes insist I had done the right thing. I had to turn it off and sleep. How things could’ve been.


I had worked so hard, committed so much time to honing my skills, been resolute in my methods and mentally have never switched off from the price. I could almost reach out and touch it. My face was shining back at me on the trophy. My name was going to be in the annals. I could tell I was already a hero, now I would be legend. Now I would be the man that led his team to glory. This was the moment I had waited for, I could hear the cheers already before I unleashed my final blow, I breathed in, I arched and pulled my trigger back, my eyes saw the lights, my name in billboards, on screens in magazines, the masses in awe of my arrival. I came back the now and my eyes glazed in the arena lights, I took an extra step, I could feel the flare of agony rise in my ankle as I slipped and my foot timidly connected with the ball…. It rolled dead to a stop on the line as I lay on my back blinded by the lights. The glory, faded.

I had given up that future of glory and revelry for a moment of pure procrastination. However small it was I had been needlessly distracted and careless. Like a river when it reaches the sea, it meanders, afraid to enter that vast ocean of wonder, delaying its inevitable consumption until it is consumed unto itself by itself.

slavetothegrind

His hands rested gently on the new strings of his choice guitar, just enough to ground the slight hum reverberating through the speakers. He waited.
Slowly his fingers flexed to individual positions on the fretboard as his muse relaxed his mind and slowly opened the tap to bleed his soul.
The first chord was a plea in A minor, answered tentatively with a questioning phrase then reinforced assertively and authoritatively all the time rising.
.
Eyes closed now he moved into that easy rhythmic flow that had gotten him so far, and in so deep.
It was the moment, and he wanted it to last.
He became aware of the others as they joined in, he didn’t need to look at them he knew they would be in sync, they always were.
They were building now and he was becoming aware of the crowd breaking into his serenity with their fickle cries.

He opened his eyes and let them fall on the audience.
As his pupils adjusted to the rainbow glare he saw them in the front row.
Wide eyed and skull smiling they shimmered in his vision.
Moving with the music now and glancing off one of the others he noticed the floor was melting
“not yet!” he cried as the room pulsed arhythmically.
The gutar slipped from is grasp and he was powerless to catch it, the audience roared like a waterfall in his ears and he felt the by now familiar slide.
The cold hit him. Then, worst of all, despair gripped him in a heightened panic he coud not tolerate. Eyes wide open and silently screaming he lands on the cold wet concrete.

“**** this! No more” he roared as he pulled the needle from his arm tossing it at the bin across the alley. .
He thought of the band and of all the success he had, though of the many ways he could get it all back, just kick this and do it.
But then more pressing thoughts overcame him, as they always did.

slavetothegrind

me-skywalker yours is excellent, unsurprisingly

i posted because i said i would, not because i believe i could hold a candle to your talent.:o

smcgiff

Succint, slave. me-skywalker, accomplished writing, but in this instance the lily was truly gilded.

Carter P Fly

Skywalkers was excellent but some lines I just couldn't make out what was being painted with the words.

While to short I found slaves to be more straightforward and it just worked well as a short piece.

Oryx

There was a tendency towards trying too hard in skywalkers. I got fed up reading the description and wanted to get to the point of the story.

In sttg, some of the phrasing is a little overblown, theres too much effort and description, you can see the mechanics of the writing. But I liked it best.

me-skywalker

Looks like you win Slave. I liked your piece it was direct and articulated your point more definitive than mine.

I probably should should have kept mine for a larger piece of work rather than a shorter format. I feel due to the character's cocky arrogance people would have become unhinged and didn't car what happened, hence just wanting it to end.

Thanks for the feedback. I'll take them all on board regardless subjectively.

pickarooney

I wanted to prefer me-skywalker's but jsut couldn't make any sense of it.

Mr E

sttg's drew me in more, so I went for that.

me-skywalker - you have good style and a definite way with words.
Looking forward to reading more from you here in the future.

slavetothegrind

thanks very much for the comments.

i take it onboard and thanks for the experience, have never done that before and probably should have put more time into it.

In this case the pleasure for me was definitely participation, actually posting that took me a few moments of debate. That was the only winning for me!:)

pickarooney

Well, you have to defend it now, so...

Carter P Fly

I'd be up for a challange as I havent written in ages but I have no spare time until saturday

slavetothegrind

sound carter i'll check in then!

Carter P Fly

Ok, topic,

blue eyes

slavetothegrind

Blue eyes eh?

Bugger. Hmmmmm.

much head scratching to be done, i'll be back later, much later.:)

Antilles

slavetothegrind wrote: »

Blue eyes eh?

Bugger. Hmmmmm.

much head scratching to be done, i'll be back later, much later.:)

Time for a Dune fan fic!

slavetothegrind

upping the spice intake overnight i reckon!

Ben Moore

Hi I'm fairly new here and just saw this topic, I read the first two and last two entries so I'm not sure how it works.

Do we vote just by replying to the thread?

Looking forward to Blue Eyes.

Carter P Fly

Sometimes when I’m in a deep melancholy I try to remember more about her and I sink deeper into the abyss that is my own self loathing. I swim down, down deep and try to grasp at the memories, to pull them to the surface but I cannot breathe and have to return to the surface empty handed.

I think I used to be able to remember absolutely everything about her but more often than not a memory I thought was of her I realise is my mind playing tricks on me when I see those same images in magazines, billboards or on TV. I pull at my hair and beat my face and curse the trickery and deceit of the media for painting pictures of grace and beauty that burn deep into the mind’s eye.

The only thing I clearly remember about her is her eyes. I see them in perfect clarity and minute detail every single time I try to sleep. Sometimes when I look at myself in the mirror it’s her eyes that stare back at me in the reflection. I splash water on myself and sometimes the image goes away, but only sometimes. I walk around with my head tucked down low for fear I’ll see her eyes on a strangers face.

When the car went off the road she hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt as she had been applying her make-up in the vanity mirror on the sun visor. Her body was thrown around the car like a raggedy doll and when we finally came to stop upside-down in a field her face was inches from mine. She was dead, battered and contorted horrifically. I was trapped, alive and bound by the twisted fabric and metal that was crushed in around me. With my arms broken, trapped and useless I couldn’t turn her face which lay mere inches from mine, her eyes wide open staring right at me. I hung there for God knows how long staring into her unblinking pale blue eyes until the paramedics cut us free.

slavetothegrind

Ben Moore wrote: »

Hi I'm fairly new here and just saw this topic, I read the first two and last two entries so I'm not sure how it works.

Do we vote just by replying to the thread?

Looking forward to Blue Eyes.

you vote by thanking the story you like best and you can optionally, and preferably, reply with your views on the stories , opinions welcome good and bad!

then you bravely put yourself forward for the next round ( optional):p

slavetothegrind

I hated everything and everyone. I did it with a sense of righteousness and it gave me a place in this world.
I felt I had distributed my hate with an even hand, neither favouring one race over another nor one place over another.I thought that deserved respect. If you didn’t well hell I would show you the error of your ways because, mother****er, I hate you too!

I came from a regular home with regular folks and had a regular old life until the first time I got mad.
Nothing was the same after that. I had found my strength, and it was mighty and all consuming. The boy should have read the signs, but no he kept on. At first I was flailing wildly to get his big fat sweaty stinking frame off me but a focus came on me, a clarity of violence, a singular thought and I brought a world of pain into that boys life. When they pulled me off him some puked, there was screaming and there was elation.
I loved the sweet smell of success, blood and faeces mixed was a heady aroma indeed with the wonderful soundtrack of outrage to accompany it.

My first stint in lockup was ok. Got a little respect, but not much. Heresay and rumour don’t do it inside it’s what you show them that counts. I showed them. In style.
Much respect followed when I got back to genpop. Sure solitary is hard but it gives you time to think, and ,you know, plan stuff. My new buddy was helping me. He had good ideas. He was a trustee, he came to my cell slot every day same time. Slid open the slot and peered in at me with those piercing big blue eyes of his. He was no doper either, pupils like ****ing millstones he had! But he and I shared a vision.

I got out after a while and reintegrated into society and reasserted myself to lead the life I was made for. I had a trade now and I gathered my tools and went to work. It began to feel almost religious in nature. I moved around a lot but I had still much to learn and I got caught. Back to the big house for me! Some fool in a white jacket said I was deluded and put me in with the crazies. It was harder to earn their respect, they were not in their right minds. Still after the third attempt even they got it! Solitary again, for longer this time.

My old friend blue eyes was back soon enough doing his rounds, heard his mop slapping the floor with that familiar pattern as he approached. Was I glad to see those eyes again! A brother in a world of others! We caught up like old buddies and I couldn’t believe I could share with someone else like this, someone who understood, who was the same.
We hatched a plan for my escape once out of solitary, he set up my route and left me a key so I could get out. It went perfectly, with the added bonus of some payback on the way.

I was more careful now, and I had been a good pupil in solitary, i learned real fast on the job. I loved my work, my vocation. I was famous, on the news every night and the papers were full of praise for my work, well that’s how it read to me! I loved the attention and upped my game to see just how much of it I could get. I adopted a catchphrase and left it after me where I went. Media loved it! I loved it! Cops loved it too because it was my downfall. This time they were really upset. Judge said I was to die, and soon.
That was ok, I know death and I do not fear it.

Death row was another solitary cell, and there it was that familiar sound!
He came to my cell and looked at me with bloodshot blue eyes.
“you ok brother?” I asked him.
“me? I’m the finest. Couldn’t be more proud of you brother. You have excelled in your ministry and for that you will be rewarded”
I felt strange, sick, I shook slightly and it was alarmingly uncomfortable. He moved away from the door leaving the slot open this time.
I saw my brother for the first time, my only family, as he strode down the corridor.
My stomach cramped up and my bowels loosened as the familiar slapping sound took up it’s rhythm. It was not a mop.

There is only one thing in this world more powerful than hate and it is fear.
You might say love, but I have never known it. Closest I came was a blue eyed trustee.
I hate him now too, almost as much as I fear him.

Now I fear death, and death is coming, I can smell it.
But most of all I fear what I have never known, what I have seen in his eyes, that which lies beyond death.

Mr E

sttg's story was clever... a real 'a-ha!' moment at the end.

I really liked Carter's story up until the last paragraph. It was really sweet up to that point, but the last paragraph was a bit jarring.... the reason for the lost love should have been just hinted at, and the rest should have been left up to the imagination of the reader (IMO, etc.)

me-skywalker

Well done Carter for submitting your piece. As constructive crit, I unfortunatly had zero connection with this piece. I felt there was no emotional connection with the protagonist and the story had no depth. For me the character didn't portray any feeling other than token gestures. With a bit more time and a re-read you could improve on it as it seems you just hit the send button once you got to the end.


Slave, well done. Enjoyable piece, good yearn to the piece and rolled along at a good pace. As above didn't feel any connection with the character rather I kept reading to find out the why's or what next, which never really came but still a good concise piece.

Carter P Fly

me-skywalker wrote: »

Well done Carter for submitting your piece. As constructive crit, I unfortunatly had zero connection with this piece. I felt there was no emotional connection with the protagonist and the story had no depth. For me the character didn't portray any feeling other than token gestures. With a bit more time and a re-read you could improve on it as it seems you just hit the send button once you got to the end.


Slave, well done. Enjoyable piece, good yearn to the piece and rolled along at a good pace. As above didn't feel any connection with the character rather I kept reading to find out the why's or what next, which never really came but still a good concise piece.

I agree with that, the piece was much longer but I hacked it down to circe 300 words ( I think 340 ). I also didnt like some of my sentance structure as they ran on a bit.

Theres always next time:)

Well done Slave!!!

pickarooney

STTG's story is well over the limit and Carter's well under. I think a misunderstanding of the ever-evolving rules may have scuppered this round a bit.

Carter P Fly

pickarooney wrote: »

STTG's story is well over the limit and Carter's well under. I think a misunderstanding of the ever-evolving rules may have scuppered this round a bit.

what is the guide limit? the OP says 300. In the prev one the same trend was there, slaves was way shorter then skywalkers.

pickarooney

Apologies. I've updated the OP with the change which came into effect sometime after post 50 on the thread.

alchemist33

Possibly too late but I voted for sttg. I preferred the structure of the story and the writing and characterisation felt that little bit better.

But good job, both of you.

slavetothegrind

firstly thanks for the comments all!

secondly i would like to apologise, i got carried away when finishing it and didn't even think of wordcount so i am obviously disqualified that round.
it would be unfair any other way as i went way over and Carter said he cut his to be under 300, probably not helping him at all.

So i suggest carter go forward and i look forward to challenging again after a few others have had a go.

Thanks very much people for reading and commenting, it has been a revelation to me that i can string a story together and encourages me to try more, which i will. Boards sometimes excels itself and this forum is a prime example.:)

Carter P Fly

That be crazy talk, You won hands down!!!!

How about A re-challange? you pick title

slavetothegrind

fightin' talk Carter!!!:p I'm your huckleberry!

Better let mr Pickarooney call it as he could have us fed to the lions with a simple thumbs down.:(

pickarooney

I think a rematch is a good idea especially as there's nobody waiting to challenge that I can see. I keep missing the voting deadlines on these.

slavetothegrind

ok so, title wise i do not know......

oh wait, in respectful reference to a retired (for now) champion of the arena i propose the title "the box" .

Carter P Fly

Ive been buggered with an epic flu today and haven't written anything. My submission may be a little late. sincere apologies.

Antilles

slavetothegrind wrote: »

ok so, title wise i do not know......

oh wait, in respectful reference to a retired (for now) champion of the arena i propose the title "the box" .

I'm not retired, I'm building suspense. It's called showmanship?

slavetothegrind

carter you get yourself well, we'll all be here when you are ready, i haven't done anything yet myself so no bother moving the deadline.;)


We may have to move to the secondary stage as i think antilles is building towards a champions finale of some sort with bluewolf!:p