Hoppers Part Two
It was easy to see what Arnold meant when he said that people didn’t like winners. The extent of their dislike was visible on his face but what was the reason for the sadness in Susanne’s eyes?
Another beating. “When will I learn?” thought Arnold. He really believed that this time he had hidden it well but he guessed that, like all the other times, he had instead chosen a bet that was just a little too unlikely. Was it that last gamble on red again or had he been spotted earlier, perhaps at the Blackjack table? Either way, not only had it had hurt but he had had all his winnings taken as well. “There has to be an easier way to do this,” he muttered to himself.
Sakura raced through the bamboo forest towards unidentified cries of distress, heedless of the pain that throbbed in her left side. The steep mountain slope made the climb treacherous as she pulled herself along from oversized stone to oversized stone, hands and feet seeking any available hold. By the gods, she thought, someone besides myself here in the midst of this dense wilderness? Surely, I am thousands of li from any settlement.
This version is essentially the final draft/complete version. Everything's there, although I'm not 100% happy with the tacked on ending. I think it needs to be there, but it's not 100% where I want it to be. Something about implementing new plot-points at the last second. Figures, right? At any rate, I've certainly learned a great deal about writing seriously through this iterative process. I've got a few more MoD ideas that I'm going to be working on as time passes, and I'll hit them with this same process.
As always, feedback is appreciated.
By Tim Gulson
Two neighbours resolved one day to build a Thing. It wasn’t an easy decision to make – they were both well aware of how serious an undertaking it was – but in the end it seemed that it simply had to be done.
Fate, opined the first neighbour.
Destiny, agreed the second.
And so, one glorious Saturday morning at the height of summer, the two neighbours set off, armed with bin-liners, marigolds and scrubbing-brushes.
Introduction: This is for the same anthology, surprisingly, somebody else on here posted a story for. The premise can be found here:
I still plan to flesh it out a bit more, but this is the basic story. I'm looking for any critique or comments that might help me with the story, especially on my characterization. I don't feel I'm giving my characters enough depth.
UPDATE: This now has two versions- one with comments, and one without. To skip to the comments, click here.
This is the official "First Draft", complete with all of the major plot points that I want in the story. I'm looking for feedback on the general structure of the story as a whole, the specific characters that we've got, and the actual implementation of the core plot points.
*/Introduction: hi, this is a story I wrote today. I am new to writing, so I would appreciate any comments or suggestions. This short-short-story is a quick little dream I had about a million years hence. One possible future. I have done much reading about the singularity and other such stuff, which has some influence on this piece. Thanks! -R. B. Clements/*
By R.B. Clements
Alrighty, my first short story for the oort-cloud. Share and enjoy and let me know what it's missing, peas & queues.
The compressor growled louder and louder. Maximum pressure was at hand and soon the eardrum torture would finish. Life would resume normality. The process of filling the three go-tanks took only about two minutes, but the last thirty seconds was the longest as the turbo machinery struggled to pump more air at pressures just under liquefaction levels into the relatively small containers.
Chick Lit takes a critical hit. Josie is your typical young goblin, selling freshly grilled human hearts outside the mall, trying to survive her ruthless family, and pining after that dreamy hobgoblin who just stomped into town. Each week (ha) in this podcast, she describes part of her story to you, another human whose heart she will soon be selling on a stick.