Creating a Female Superhero Challenge

This is my entry for the Creating a Female Superhero Challenge. An excellent idea - and one I could also set my students to work on. I got quite a few Puppy Girls from them, and a pair of Iron Men from the ring-in second grade boys that were in my class that day (even though I kept pointing out the gender, but hey, what are you going to do with 7 year-olds?)

Author: David Ashton
Word count: 397 for the character bio, 412 for the story
Anthology: Yes
Charity: Any of them, they all sound good

Yeah, I can't draw, so some outlines thrown over
textures is the best you're going to get

Name of female superhero: Darkweaver

Name of human alter ego: Glynnis Carr

Human alter ego appearance: As Glynnis, her clothing ranges the gamut of colours and shades. She doesn't wear the complete opposite of her costume - all rainbows all the time - nor does it echo its monochromatic scheme. She wears a pewter necklace: a meaningless sigil of her own devising to remind her of how lucky she is. When asked about it, she always tucks it back under her top and says it was a keepsake given to her long ago.

Superhero Appearance: Completely concealed by her costume.

Costume:  A form fitting suit of swirling greys and blacks with indigo highlights and ultramarine lenses.

Personality as Darkweaver: Vengeful and angry at the injustice at the world. There are no snappy one liners from this heroine.

Personality as Glynnis Carr: Often downcast, but at times happy in that deceptively brittle way that signifies that you're trying, but there is still a lot of healing to go

Brief description of how the superheroine gets her powers: In an attempt to rebel during her college days Glynnis dabbled in mysticism and the occult. It was meant to be harmless fun, but the rituals she was following became increasingly extreme and depraved. Something was listening - luckily not the dark and twisted gods she thought she was praying to - and granted her powers with no further explanation or instructions about what to do with them. Out of a guilty conscience about the rites she had conducted and a hope to expunge these acts from her soul’s record, Gylnnis works for good.... though not always in a way that is acceptable in the eyes of the law.

Powers: She can become insubstantial and two dimensional, allowing her to pass through objects and avoid physical injury. She can possess and control shadows. She can teleport by leaping from shadow to shadow. For short periods of time, She can be in multiple places at once if what she is targeting has more than one shadow.

Anything else important: Bright lights are not her kryptonite. Often they cast larger, darker shadows and so that plays into her hands.  Her weapons are a garrote, cosh and kris - the knife is yet another reminder to herself of her old ways. She is the type of vigilante that leaves corpses, not criminals caught red-handed.

A night on the town

The alley was dark but not deserted. A late night reveller was trying to spell his name on the side of the dumpster, copiously splashing urine in loops as he raced through the final letters. A door banged open, causing him to piss on his shoes.

“What the FUCK are you...” he snarled to the empty alley, “...goddamned wind...”

Zipping up, he continues on his way, trying to peer through the doorway as he draws opposite. There is just enough time for him to blink owlishly before the impact. A shower of his blood coats the wall behind him. When finished, the hulking figure pauses long enough to pick up one of the larger chunks in chitinous claws before stuffing the gobbet into its mandibles. Turning, it slams the door shut once again.

Glynnis was glad she’d finally given that friend of a friend’s friend the slip. As if buying a few drinks for her could make up for the appalling and unending self-indulgent commentary. It was times like these that she was glad she could walk through walls. The park wasn’t really on her way home, but she always made a point of walking through it at night. Slowly, thanks to her actions, it was being reclaimed by couples and families - though not at this hour. When she heard footsteps and mocking laughter behind her Glynnis was surprised and a little disappointed. Her relaxed pace continued, until she was surrounded.

“It ain’t safe, walking alone here at night,” leered one of the thugs, eyeing her up and down.

Glynnis nodded, then winked into his shadow, engulfed by her outfit of greys and blacks, kris appearing in her hand.

“Yes, you’re right,” she whispered into his ear, her smile hidden beneath her mask. Slowly, she slid the blade along his throat.

The morning news made no mention of her escapades in the park, but she was sure the message was received loud and clear in certain circles. The television was full of the usual fluff pieces about celebrities and grumbling about the economy.When they recapped the morning headlines -  a lurid dismemberment, fuzzily caught in a security camera - Glynnis froze in mid bite, her toast forgotten. Those pincers... the spines... it couldn’t be, could it? She had burned all the books and smashed the figurine! It seemed Glynnis wasn’t the only acolyte who dabbled successfully in in the dark arts. But unlike her the other had embraced the monstrosity.

Trifecta Introduction

What is your name (real or otherwise)?
Snellopy. It comes from a starship pilot from an alien race in a computer game called Star Control 2, that I loved in high school.

Describe your writing style in three words. 
Aliens! Dragons! Humour!

How long have you been writing online? 
Flash fiction since 2011. A few one-off pieces before that, but they were on forums that have since been shuttered. And long ago, DMing in Never Winter Nights. That sort of counts, right?

Which, if any, other writing challenges do you participate in? 
I'm erratic, flitting around between various challenges, based on the prompts and what time I can scrounge to write in. More often than not, I only get to outline in my head what I'd write for it. Most of them have fairly low word counts, so that I am more likely to complete them as I have a short attention span. Here's a partial list:

The 100 Word Challenge

Tobias Mastrgrave posts plenty of prompts


Lillie McFerrin's Five Sentence Fiction

The Parking lot Confessional

Jeffrey Hollar's Monday Mixer

Mid-Week Blues-Buster

Business Card Fiction (though it seems to be dead)

Chuck Wendig has a prompt every Friday on Terrible Minds, and it was his site that got me back into writing.

Describe one way in which you could improve your writing. 
A lot less commas.

What is the best writing advice you’ve ever been given? 
I love Chuck Wendig's Terrible Minds blog. All his advice is awesome. One excellent bit of advice he has is: Finish your Shit. I've a bunch of unfinished pieces that I'm slowly completing. When they're all done, I'll feel a lot better about how infrequently I write.

Who is your favorite author?  
Terry Pratchett, hands down. I loved him as a kid, and when I've revisited him, I've still enjoyed his books immensely (that hasn't always been the case when I've revisited some authors I was nostalgic about).

How do you make time to write?
Spare moments and downtime at work. Weekends and evenings is family time. My wife has said that I can have typing time if I want it at home, but I use that sparingly at the moment - maybe when I'm writing my third omnibus for my fifth series I'll take her up on that more frequently.

Give us one word we should consider using as a prompt. Remember--it must have a third definition.
Pendulous

Direct us to one blog post of yours that we shouldn't miss reading.
I had a lot of fun writing this one: Progress report on Research Subject C1-MMA 

Thịt chó

The meat sat there in her bowl, an anathema.

“Go on, have a bite! Be brave! You’re a tourist, do touristy stuff! This is an experience you can’t get at home.”
“It’s not one I am sure that I want.” A grimace. “What does it taste like?”
“It depends how it’s cooked, like most things. The one in the bowl is fairly rank - too much ginger and lemongrass. And there’s still the occasional hair on the skin. If you liked black pudding like Dad, I would have given you the stuffed barbequed intestines. But the sliced, boiled meat is like a gamey roast beef.”

Picture sourced from here The dishes at 12:00, 1:00, 30:00 6:00, 7:00 and 11:00 are to be found on the reasonable to delicious side of the scale. The soupy one I can take or leave, and the lemongrass and ginger one I'm not a fan of, nor another one which seems to be cooked with small sticks of yuck (but again, that's the fault of the spice).

This is obviously fiction, as my mother has categorically stated she won’t try dog, for the same reasons she won’t eat kangaroo. It wouldn’t be fair to trick her. The rest of it is true though. Mắm tôm, the purple dipping sauce can take a bit of a run-up as well, if you’re not Australian. It puts me in mind of a liquid Vegemite. An old wives tale here is that eating dog’s feet is meant to increase a nursing mother’s milk supply. Tho declined, but her sister was gnawing on two or three a day for a while there, not that it seemed to help.

The prompt for this piece was ...what does it taste like... for week number 78 of the 100 Word Challenge. I shouldn’t have written it before breakfast though, as now I’m hungry.

Silver Tongue

I’ve just recently stumbled onto the Monday Mixer, which due to time-zones is a productive way to spend my Tuesday mornings. The idea is to pick one word from each of the three lists: location, thing, adjective and do a piece of flash fiction that's exactly 150 words. You can be a sucker for punishment and try and jam all nine prompt words in, but I figure that's a bit much when I'm trying to mark tests.

Picture from Wikimedia

The wind howled over the remnants of the battlefield causing banners to flutter listlessly. The moor was littered with the dead and dying. Broken shields, hacked limbs and viscera were scattered about, the bulk of them displaying the insignia of the Renegades.

Victory was not yet secured though, as Silver Tongue was yet to be accounted for. With luck, his corpse would be amongst the fallen, and this miscarriage of a revolution would finally end. Inspecting the dead was gristly work, but the reward posted for his head more than made up for it.

Behind a clump of furze a pair of boots kicked feebly as their owner tried to rise. Teeth gritted and a bandana pressed against his side in a futile attempt to staunch the flow of blood, Silver Tongue looked up at my approach. “Not so loquacious now, ye bloody bastard!”

The land would know peace once more.

Winter Wonderland

I love Chuck Wendig’s style of ranting and raving and encouraging us to write, devouring his posts and thinking “shit, yeah!” His Friday Flash Fiction challenges got me writing again after an atrocious first attempt at nano. All of his books that I’ve bought so far (haven’t got them all yet, booze money and random purchases have been vetoed in favour being funneled into baby nest-egging) have been awesome. About the only parts I don’t read straight away are search term bingo (as its sometimes a little too NSFW) and his author interviews. At first, I wasn’t reading the interviews because it was making me pissed off, since buying books here can be hit or miss. Then when I got a kindle and it became oh so easy, I still didn’t really take to them because dammit, it wasn’t Chuck! Sure, I’d look at the favourite swearword, and for a new cocktail recipe, but that’s about it.

That all changed last week, because it was a name I knew. Dan O’Shea. I recognised it because I’d read his posts on Terrible Minds already, so not only was this guy famous (at least to me), he was famous because he was participating in the challenges as well. Awesome. If he can do it, I can do it too! What better motivation! And then to cap it all off, he gives back to the people that read the interview and click through to his site, by giving away a copies of his book if you participate in his flash fiction challenge, on the topic of snow. What more could you ask for?

Picture taken from the aptly named picturesofwinter.net website

Winter Wonderland

If snow was like sand I could see the appeal. Dry, warm, and while it can be annoying to get it in your shoes or clothes, it can be removed with minimal effort. I thought we were going to enjoy our first trip to the snowfields, but it just goes to show how much I know.

Jess is at that tricky age, where parents are always an embarrassment and sartorial choices can make or break you. When she was younger, she loved my dress-sense; the way bright orange contrasted with vivid green and were nearly drowned out by the peacock blue - and that was just in my handkerchief. Today though she just mumbles something incomprehensible (all I caught was the word sucks but I ignored it, trying for peace) and changes song on her ipod. Kids these days.

At least Timmy would enjoy it, I thought, what with snowball fights and making igloos and snow men and all that winter wonderland razzamatazz. But once he got some snow in his shoe he was inconsolable, and wanted nothing more than to be held for the rest of the damn trip. To be honest, after doing snow angels, I can see his point. I can still feel the chill down my butt crack - and I’m not even a plumber, you know what I mean?

The build-up to this holiday had been better, but the road-trip had killed all the excitement. Three days in the car was just too much. We’re flying everywhere from now on. I tried to get everyone excited again, and suggested a sled race, but was met by sullen silence. I admit I lost it a bit there, and ordered the whole family to march on over to the hill where I would demonstrate how much fun it would be. Then there’d be squeals of happiness, goofy family photos, and plain old fun just like in a Christmas Special.

That was the plan, at least. I didn’t realise sleds were so damn hard to steer. Stupid tree. The doctor said the cast shouldn’t be on too long, and I’ll be up and walking in no time. By then I’ll be ready for another holiday. Hawaii I think. I’ll stay safely ensconced in a hammock drinking cocktails.

Present Tense: Why the hell not?

A late entry - due to Tet and no internet at home. Chuck Wendig's soon to be released book Blackbirds is all about death, and written in the present tense. So he asked us to write in the present tense too. 

Why the hell not?

"Same again," I mumble to the barman, my gaze skittering away before I can catch the knowing sneer in his eyes... the same drink, and the same shitty luck trying to pull a bird. I probably should head home instead of having this roadie, as there's not likely to be anything apart from swamp donkeys still out at 2 AM - especially in this joint - but hope has gotta spring eternal. A swig or two, and I decide its time to have a slash. I've learnt my lesson from previous evenings here, and take my beer with me. The dunny is none too clean, but that's better than some dickwit making off with my drink.

As usual, the pisser is covered in chunder. More than one person's spew, by the amount. I go into the cubicle, but of course the door doesn't lock. The usual cigarette butts are accompanied by a huge turd bobbing in the bowl like a baby hippo on a mudflap. Its moments like these I'm glad I'm a bloke. I light a smoke and glance around at all the graffiti. There's something new from last week, its not just the same old I FUCKED YER MUM bullshit. Down low, scrawled in bright red lipstick is For a good time call... a number, and then Why the hell not? Why the hell not? I think to myself. It'll probably just be a random number, some geezer with his teeth in a glass on the bedside table, but should still be good for a laugh.

I fish my phone out of my pocket, and use the motion to give my todger a shake dry. I punch in the number, cackling to myself. "Why hello, there," a voice purrs in my ear, all throaty and suggestive. My jaw literally drops, and the durrie falls unmourned into the toilet. My. Fucking. God. I pull myself together, it's probably just a bloody phone-sex chat line, and I'm racking up a bill of five bucks a minute or something. I look at my phone, and the number, but no, it's legit. I stutter and stumble through a conversation that’s almost incoherent due to her sultry tones. As luck would have it, she’s out tonight too, just a few blocks down from here, so I’m off like a bullet, hand’s shoved into my pants to conceal my boner as I walk out the door, smirking at the bloke behind the bar.

The sea breeze helps to sober me up somewhat as I trot along the foreshore, but I needn’t have worried as the bouncers here don’t do much unless your shirt is caked with chunks. A casual nod as I walk in then I’m scanning the bar for someone fitting her description, black hair, red outfit. There by the bar is a vision in fuck-me-boots, a short skirt and a top laced up the back like a corset. I’ve just the right amount of dutch courage in me, so I saunter up all casual like and say “Hi. I’m Steve, we talked on the phone...” hoping against hope it’s her. She smiles and leans in so she can be heard above the music, pressing her boobs against me “Hello there, I’m Nikki!”

We shout a bit back and forth for a while but while it seems she’s digging my company it’s hard to carry out a conversation like this. “Do you want a drink?” I yell, thinking maybe we can move to a table away from the music and yarn. She nods and smiles then shouts something to the barman. When her order arrives, she lifts her skirt scandalously high - but I’m not complaining - and pulls a twenty from a flame-red garter belt, waving away the change. She passes me a shot glass, and a feel a twinge in my guts... tequila and I haven’t been on speaking terms since my graduation party. But watching her jam the slice of lemon between her tits I’m raring to go. I come up smiling (of course), loving the jealous looks from all the other guys around. She puts another slice in my mouth, and throws back her shot, kissing me hard on the lips. “Lets get out of here, go somewhere a bit more quiet, yeah?” I nod hell yes, draping my arm around her waist and chance my luck giving her arse a squeeze.

We go down the steps and start heading towards the obvious destination - the beach. I’m trying to think of angles I can use to try and get her home. But even though she seems keen I’m worried she’s a hooker, because I’ve drunk most of this week’s pay already. Luck like this isn’t normal for me, so it feels strange. We walk over the dunes, towards the lighthouse and I say the first stupid thing that pops into my head “It’s a shame we don’t have lighthouses that warn us from bad decisions isn’t it?” Nikki laughs quietly and I rush on, trying to cover up, “Sorry... I was just trying to be romantic.” With a shrug she pulls me into a kiss and we tumble down onto the dunes. That tequila must have hit me harder than I think, as I follow up with this clanger “Sorry Nikki, but I’ve gotta ask, what’s your job? You’re not a prostitute are you? I’m broke.” I grin sheepishly, going red with embarrassment. Another small laugh escapes her lips, and I look up, hopefully. “No,” she answers “I’m a succubus!” Her eyes glow red and a mouthful of fangs are the last thing I see.

*****

The start for me was a doddle to write, as I know the inside of all sorts of bars, some quite well. An easy part of write what you know. Picking someone up in a bar? Not such an expert. I know what my face looks like, so I rarely bothered in the past, pretty certain I'd get shot down. And its not like I want to practice it now, seeing as how I'm happily married and all. So the end of my story feels a lot weaker to me. And while I speak with a fairly foul mouth, I don't often write fiction with it (I do in emails and instant messages and such), so that was a change too.

Full house

Since I’m new to Julia’s Place and the 100 Word Challenges, I figured what better way to introduce myself than by doing this week’s challenge (of critiquing someone’s story from last week) than by writing about everyone’s story. It helps that I love the sound of my own voice - or should that be the gentle patter of my fingers on the keys - and I’m full of boundless optimism. It’s a slow week at work too, so plenty of typing time. 

Rather than critiques that can be taken to heart and cause anguish, these are more uplifting nice comments, either about the piece itself, or what it lead my train of thoughts to. If I’ve only tangentially touched on an entry it isn’t a case of “If you can’t say anything nice say nothing at all,” more that that piece got my mind going on a different topic. 

Too saccharine, overly gushy and a one-eyed one-man cheer-squad? Quite likely guilty as charged but I figure we all need more happiness and support in our life. Due to the naming, I’m still not sure if it’s meant to be 100 words or less, or exactly 100 words, so I went with the latter to be on the safe side and each one is 100 words on the dot. Don’t feel obliged to wade through the whole shebang though. If you haven't read that story yet, click on the title and it should take you to it.

This was a fun exercise and gave me something to shoot for before heading off to the in-laws for Tết, where I’ll try to distract myself from the lack of internet connectivity by pitting hypothermia against insobriety. 

 

*****

Acceptance Speech

It rings true for me, I can remember being in a nativity play as one of the three other kings (we had a big class, I wasn’t one of the wise kings, I was more along the lines of Curly from the Three Stooges). I tripped on my robe, and a button fell off, and I remember wagging my finger at it and telling it off rather loudly while an angel was supposed to be centre stage declaiming. The stage doesn’t call to me though, I have a good face for radio, but the voice of a silent movie actor.

*****
Blockbuster

A damn fine piece of writing! Like pretty much all the commenters on his page said, it definitely reads like a movie blurb... but we mean that in the best way possible. Nailed the format, good choice of wording, and the potted summary suits the 100 words we are allowed changing it from a limitation to something  that just feels right. The choice of actors makes it interesting too, maybe an older movie of his that went straight to video, or maybe they’ve kissed and made up and are cashing in on the punters counting on sparks flying once more.

*****

It Falls

Generally, poetry doesn’t do it for me, but I was really impressed by the extra effort (or maybe creativity is a better word to use for It Falls. I do like alliteration though, but I agree that when the seeding idea is so similar (all those A’s!), its going over the top doing too much, and it’ll cause it to grate on the ear. The swap from bird to plane was a nice touch and make you think differently about it right at the end. The five words are slotted in to the poem well, without feeling shoehorned or forced.

*****
Aquamarine

Planes in the first paragraph, yet whisked away by magic in the end - but done deliciously without a whiff of deus ex machina. Instead, it draws the reader in along with all that such a combination implies. The poise of the heroine makes her a very strong lead (and in such few words too) especially when the blokey bloke (maybe a servant, as he is the only one devoid of a title) thought he was taking her under her wing for protection. This is one where I definitely want to read more, it is a very enticing short story.

*****

Survivor

This is one of those pieces where less is more. The first few days penned by our chronicler were probably hectic. The next fortnight or so are likely unpleasant for those of us that don’t like horror. Skimming the comments everyone is complimenting the writing, saying how the implied actions he has carried out are creepy and unsettling but I can’t help thinking... in the the previous story, we had a strong female lead, and there’s the only pronoun the scribe uses is I... what if it’s a lady that’s doing the deeds, does that make it even more disturbing?

*****
Agatha

Wow, I wasn’t expecting the ending there. I must admit I’m a sucker for a happily ever after (and why the hell not? I’m living one right now and intend to for the rest of my life!) and so I’m glad there’s relief mixed in with her tears. I like the extra sartorial detail, it adds to the story. The first line is really powerful, sucking you into the action right away. The seed words are used early on in the piece, allowing more freedom with word choices towards the powerful ending. Green highlighting should be aquamarine though, I reckon.

*****
An Unplanned Descent

We are jolted out of a nice peaceful start by a serious (but only small) problem. At first I was thinking of doing something similar, but with the plane splattering over the landscape - I’m glad I didn’t as this is much more powerful as it’s grounded in reality. It’s also refreshing to hear that the pilot got lauded for saving everyone - rather than lambasted and dragged over the coals in a  multi-party law suit for technical difficulty as may well be the case today. Harking back to Blockbuster, I wonder if Tom Cruise would take this role too?

*****

Cocktails

Modesty prevents me from flapping my gums about this entry. It's OK, I already know how awesome I am.

*****
Weight a Minute

I’m metric so 175 pounds sounded like a lot until I converted it... merely 80kg. But even then I’ve only got a hazy grasp of weight as I’m a bloke so naturally oblivious. But I can hear my wife’s plaintive cries, especially as she’s entering her third trimester and is skyrocketing. It isn’t the batteries fault, nor the scales fault, but my fault. I love the way the internal voice keeps on ratcheting up the equivalent size to get something more appropriate. But you know what, I don’t really think aquamarine was your colour, I think turquoise is more you.

*****
Dangerous Creature

I love the additional “photoshopping” done to the picture, it really adds to it. I especially like the two-tone tail - it makes it looks like it’s snapped off and grown back a few times  making me think that it’s been in a few scraps before and is an experienced brawler. I agree with the commenters, acting inappropriately is a fantastic word choice. I also like lizard-like and can only hope that It Came From Outer Space... dun Dun DUN! There’s probably a more mundane explanation of where it is from. But I can still hope. Keep watching the stars!

*****
Translation Issues

Nicely done poking fun at language! It is interesting seeing teaching jobs advertised over here in Vietnam when they’re looking for Native English Speakers. There’s no anti-discrimination laws of any sort over here, so they can specify all sorts of things they’d get sued into oblivion back home. Because I look the part, they’d rather my slang-stained Aussie accent over obviously more qualified and competent teachers simply due to their nationality, irregardless of their linguistic ability. It drives us wild especially when our own company does it and should know better, we’re trying to change their thinking from the inside.

*****
Departure Gate

The descriptive clothing is a great start, and sounds like something I’d wear too (though my wife has hidden a lot of my more striking pieces - taking a leaf from my mother’s play-book as she burned a heap of my fathers clothes when they married). I agree with what some other people said, it flows on nicely from my entry too. I’m also pleased that her imperious attitude wasn’t enough to bring back the plane. It’s good when even minor villains get their comeuppance. Cleaning the planes with a toothbrush was a nice, pouty touch to the temper tantrum.

*****
The Celebrity

After the last diva spat in Departure Gate it is good to see someone more interested on mending fences at the end of the flight. Though depending on the size and breed of the dog, making amends might not be too effective - yes for something cute but maybe not as popular with a Great Dane. Traveling with animals can often be tricky, we did a five hour bike trip once with a couple of live chickens lashed to the back in a wicker cage due to their breed being especially tender and juicy but I couldn’t taste the difference.

*****
Life in Hollywood: Advertising

I like Aeroplane Jelly, Aeroplane Jelly for me! Being overseas for an extended period, the main thing I miss is food. My parents visit once a year, I’ve been back a couple of times, and friends are still an email or IM away, just like when I was out bush. But food, ahh... food. That is a completely different kettle of fish! Especially when some essential ingredients or tools are scarce here. Every time I go home it is with a long list of food I either want my mother to cook for me or dishes to order and enjoy.

*****

Mile High Meltdown

A prime example of write what you know. I’m thinking if it’d been me then physical violence, not words, would have been my response to snooty cow. Yes, it sucks for other passengers when there is a cantankerous kid on the flight, but it has to be much worse for the parents when everything they try fails to have any effect and they have to deal with snide comments and accusatory glares while still trying to pacify their kid and put out the fires. I’m glad that in the end she fell asleep, and gave you some much needed respite.

*****
The Aftermath...

Nicely done, it expressed sadness and humour tinged with love. It must be difficult for people whose loved ones go through such changes on so many levels. I especially liked the sausages, but in person hearing the description of the milk would have me guffawing with laughter, making it tricky to explain away any chagrin. I occasionally get flashes of similar situations since my kids are largely ESL... “Can you spell redacted?” “uhh... care to put that in a sentence? … Oh, you mean peanuts. An elephant likes eating peanuts! You weren’t saying the male appendage for procreation after all.”

*****

Swim or Die

 
I loved this entry, as it has the feel to me of some hard science-fiction a la Robert Heinlein even though there’s nary a spaceship in sight. I like the way she’s taken the word marine in aquamarine and run with it, it gives her story a different direction. With planning like this though, I’m wondering just how seasoned the grizzled veterans are. I have to thank Buddhafulkat for showing me Julia’s Place and introducing me to these fun challenges. She’s a fan of the hundred word format, and is going to be cranking out lots more of her own.

*****
The Perpetrator

Excellent cold descriptive imagery in this one that give me chills of fear down my spine. I definitely love the way the eyes have been singled out for attention. This is not someone with whom I’d like to cross paths - at least at the moment. Maybe normally she’s sweet and kind and was driven to to something completely out of character, but still I’d prefer to keep my distance. I’ve noticed a recurring theme in the about me blurb - there’s an awful lot us teachers participating in these hundred word challenges! I wish my class had the ability.

*****

 
All The A’s

This is a good example of alliteration focusing on one letter done well.  A task that is easier said than done. I hope that her sense of excitement and happiness remains - that she uses her new found magical powers for good, not evil. I first misread it as Andy acting unphased about it, but I’m sure that given a demonstration he’d be a wide-eyed convert. The choice of anklet instead of the more usual magic ring was a good touch. I wonder how she worked out that the anklet was magic, since the place of purchase was so mundane.

*****
Its Not Lupus!

A unique take on the prompts that is most effective. The reader ends up full of sympathy and can feel the annoyance caused by the quacks poking and prodding. Hopefully it all gets sorted soon without medical textbooks devoting a chapter to her in the future as they discuss her rare case. After the banter with the comments, I took a liberty to title the piece rather than name it after the blog - but due to the vagaries of TV programming over here, I’m unfamiliar with it - but it sounds like a running gag (something that everyone enjoys).
*****
How I Met My Husband

I love it! Another one based on fact, with a fairy-tale happily ever after ending. Such serendipitous   stories are fantastic stories for the retelling to loved ones. The author’s unsureness at the beginning is completely understandable, as the wonderous  buoyancy property of the waters of the Dead Sea fly in the face of what you’re used to. The seed words are fitted into the story seamlessly. It is nice that such a kind, simple gesture lead to something amazing, and sets a good example for all of us to improve our interactions with others... who knows where it may lead?

*****

The Glider

Vibrant and lyrical in the description, you can feel the pilot’s exultation and enjoyment in their hobby. It seemed tempting until things began going wrong - but luckily there’s the option of restarting or reloading... if only Real Life had that, too. We have  definitely come along way graphics-wise since games like Pong and Asteroids. But even with all raw power in video cards and processing power maybe the graphics in text based adventures like Zork are still better - how could mere polygons and pixels render something more impressive than the grue you conjure up yourself? Imagination trumps CGI.

*****
The A Challenge

 
These sort of stories are always fun to read to my students, particularly when introduced as “we’ll just have a quick story then go on excursion/to PE/our computer class/early play time” and watch the ripple of understanding spread out amongst them. The starting scene captures the weather in the doldrums very well sticky and unpleasant - that’s part of what makes the water so much more appealing. I hope after they go round and round a few times they manage to get to the bottom of what actually did happen, which I hope is nothing too serious.

*****
The Monster from the Deep

First thing I saw that blew me away was the professional banner. Wow, it looks great, and makes me want to have a rummage in your back catalogue of posts to find some gems. I know people say don’t judge a book by a cover, but we almost always do. Horror isn’t really my cup of tea though, so I might have to click away quickly, but it does draw me in. The mist from the lake is a great touch - one I thought was poetic license until this year when my new route to work wended past one.

*****

Autumn’s Auction Shocker

Having a troublesome kid can be difficult at any age, and bankrolling their exploits with cherished family heirlooms adds an extra level most people don’t have to deal with. Surely desecrating a burger bar by turning it into a vegetarian joint would be enough mischief? If someone I loved did that, I’d be furious (but then again I’m a raging carnivore and have jammed a wide range of animals into my slavering maw than just about anyone I know - missing out on cat recently since this is still the Year of the Cat so chowing down would be unlucky).

*****
Be Careful What You Wish For

It’s a commonly enough expressed wish, not to croak in a nursing home. I’m sure Jane is a competent pilot but nature and events conspired against them making what would normally be a a harmless flight of fancy (both verbally and physically). Of the options of strange places to die, I’ve heard “someone else’s bed” the most often. I like where this story is going if there is a chance for them to be dragged into some sort of urban-fantasy slash magical crossover as that waterspout was rather sudden in its appearance. Not so interested If they die horribly, though.

*****
The Letter

This one flew over my head at first, being new to Julia’s Place. But I figured it was something of an in-joke, so after a bit of sleuthing I put together enough clues to at least grok some of the edges. I like the tongue-in-cheek attitude of this piece, and would suggest that the appropriate response would be to get yourself elected in his stead, ousting him from his seat. I’m certain you could do a better job, though you may not enjoy it much. But think of all the good you could do, all the wrongs you could right!

*****

 
Blue Engagement

I like that the swain knew his best beloved well enough to forego the more popular diamond for an aquamarine. Engagement rings aren’t really done here, as you need family permission first, so we did the wedding ring shopping first, and then later I went to a jewellery shop I like and had one made: They melted down my One Ring (the Lord of the Rings Ring) and took my opal out of my custom Quake necklace and bunged on a few small diamonds. My wife doesn’t like wearing it much, but she loves the thought I put into it.

*****
Drowning

A fateful end full to an adventure that started out with altruistic good-will. Without the calming influence of his twin, I hope Karl doesn’t further self-destruct. Maybe this tragedy will bring them closer together whereas the accident seems to be forcing them apart. It is touching to see such a caring sister drop everything instantly to hurtle to their aid. I feel sorry for all of them, and wish that things could turn out for the better. Personalised sadness like this is effective writing - there would be other people on the plane, but their untold stories move us less.

*****

And that's a wrap! Much obliged if you read all the way to the bottom. A Happy Tết to you, Chúc Mừng Năm Mới!