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Ceramic DM Winter 07 (Final Judgment Posted)
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<blockquote data-quote="yangnome" data-source="post: 3333008" data-attributes="member: 7413"><p><strong>Roud 1 Match 1 judgement Aris Dragonborn vs. Miles Pilitus</strong></p><p></p><p>Round 1 Match 1:</p><p>Aris Dragonborn vs. Miles Pilitus</p><p></p><p>Orchid Blossom:</p><p></p><p></p><p>Aris Dragonborn</p><p></p><p>I'm sorry the virus took you down, but kudos to you for turning in what you finished.</p><p></p><p>It was great to see that you were putting effort into setting your scene and helping the reader find their place at the table. Since St. Patrick's is a lucky day and the lottery was the discussion, my guess is someone was going to come into some money.</p><p></p><p>The one thing I noticed to comment on in this small sample is that you have a couple superfluous sentences; something that was starting to look like a pattern. the end of the second paragraph, "After all, everyone loved to dream about hitting it big," is an example. Later on, "We had a good laugh at that," and "What a wonderful thing to do on St. Patrick's Day!" all could be cut. The reason being that you've already communicated those ideas through your writing. We already learned the lottery is a favorite discussion, so we know they like to dream about it.</p><p></p><p>By the way, I'm a fellow sufferer from Superfluous Sentence Syndrome (SSS). Judicious editing is the best cure I've found. I just let myself write them and come back later and rip them out.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Miles Pilitus</p><p></p><p>We've all been through something like this story, a family reunion, wedding, holiday, anytime you have to spend time with strangers who happen to be related to you, or people you know but don't like. Right off you start from a place that almost any reader can relate to, which makes it easy to slip into the story.</p><p></p><p>A lot of time is devoted to telling us just how hellish this reunion is, but since it's a familiar scene to us already it's much more exposition than we need. And while it is presented as a potential debacle, it is really an ordinary family gathering.</p><p></p><p>The crux of the story seems to be the moment when the family is able to agree on what to do (row on the lake). But the A to B to C style of the story doesn't change when that happens, so that change is presented just as everything else that happened. At this point I should admit that I'm not a fan of first person present point of view. It always makes a story feel like a report to me, and when we are hearing a protagonist's thoughts and end up changing tenses I keep having to change gears. Is that a fault? Maybe not. For me it's a style preference.</p><p></p><p>One other note, be careful of using the same descriptors too often and close together. For example (emphasis mine) "At least the family managed to get the old family house in Virginia. It's an old colonial house near the Roanoke Rapids on the southern border of the state. It's a nice old place..."</p><p></p><p>The pictures fit in the story without jarring the reading, a good thing, but also don't illustrate anything that notes an important point in the story. The leprechaun is the only one that sticks out and illustrates something about the character and the place he's in.</p><p></p><p>Aris I hope you'll come back and try Ceramic DM again.</p><p></p><p>-----</p><p>Herremann:</p><p></p><p>Round One - Match One Judgment</p><p>Aris Dragonborn vs. Miles Pilitus</p><p></p><p>Well hello again everyone, it’s been an interesting week of preparation at the “Herremann” residence, getting equipped and ready for judging another Ceramic DM competition. As some of you may know, judging took me a little by surprise the first time around. I sent away for a judging stick excited about the prospect of giving it a few critical whacks but instead, I received a rather large scythe.</p><p></p><p>There wasn’t too much of a problem with this until the scythe (better known as ‘Lady Death’) began to talk to me, take possession of my mind, toy with my motivations and rack up debts with the netherworld in my name. These debts have been increasingly difficult to pay off - one soul is just simply not enough to bargain with against some of the bigger players down there. Fortunately, my wife never learned about it and since she’s used to strange things lying around here and there (I am a pretty hard-core gamer after all), all went well enough. When ‘Death’ arrived at the end of the competition to get his scythe back, we shared a quick quip before he left, both knowing that my time was not quite up. You wouldn’t have thought it but ‘Death’ is a pretty humourous guy, as long as you get to meet him outside of business hours.</p><p></p><p>Anyway, this time around, my wife took one look at the scythe and just wondered what the hell I had been doing on eBay again before moving on to her own amusements. The imps aren’t quite as bad as you would imagine either as we have a large backyard with a garage right down the back. I have been able to contain them reasonably successfully in there. They’re dead scared of our dog “Bella” for some reason and that keeps them in check, only sporting occasional glances out of the garage window. Fortunately my wife and baby daughter are yet to notice such antics. The imp shipment was complete at thirty-seven and so this should be more than adequate for the competition ahead. Sometimes though, you never know, particularly with the high number of matches to be judged; strange things always seem to happen to these imps during a competition.</p><p></p><p>Well anyway, this is going to be one hell of a night to start with: four judgments to be made and four contestants to be reaped. I’ll have to start early.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Down the end of my backyard, behind the clad garage and underneath the massive Elm tree, sheltered a small conclave of the netherworld. While “Hell” on Earth is not nearly as dramatic as it sounds, it was still quite a sight. Several torches sprinkled as much light as shadow about the place while several fiendish helpers were running this way and that in preparation. While the thirty-seven imps making up the “enhanced” jury waited in the garage for their presence to be required, ‘Lady Death’s entourage of imps, fey, Gnopfs and minor daemons were busy readying the place.</p><p></p><p>And there she was waiting, carefully addressed upon the granite altar’s surface. Several daemons of obviously minor rank were seeing to her needs as they luxuriated her length with good oil while a flying imp saw to her blade. Cursed by vanity and normally wielded by Death, she was obviously in a good mood awaiting the evening’s activities.</p><p></p><p>To the side carefully overseeing the final manoeuvring of his equipment was my friend the Gnopf. I have no idea of his name, as conversing with him in a common tongue was impossible, but as far as producing images for the fiendish jury to see, his service was pretty good if a little strange. He’s a pretty animated fellow so I can normally get the gist of what he’s trying to communicate. If nothing else, he seems to have a disproportionate level of faith in me. He looked back at me, barked a few commands to his sub-ordinates before nodding. He was obviously ready to go.</p><p></p><p>And so, with the moon at its highest point and the jury finally having been coaxed from the garage, everything was at the ready; the judging of the Ceramic DM Contest of Winter 2007 was about to commence.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>I lifted “Lady Death’; her solid weight pulsing me with an attitude of eagerness. I tapped her gently against the altar.</p><p></p><p>“Good evening Ladies and Daemons of the court, Servants of the afore-mentioned, minor functionaries of little consequence and of course our Infernal Jury for the night’s proceedings. It is incumbent upon you the jury to deliberate with both care and attention so as you may carefully select the offering of tastiest composition for her Dark Grace, Our ‘Lady Death’. Attend to the evidence and details to be presented and with firm resolve, cast your opinion with strong feet and defined purpose. Such I charge you with, or forever may you reside in a pit to be toyed with by Beelzebub.”</p><p></p><p>“In out first contest of penmanship, we have Aris Dragonborn contending with Miles Pilitus. If their offerings may be presented immediately to the Altar of Judgment, the court shall proceed.” At this, two imps garbed in ridiculous finery stepped towards the front with several pages in their grasp. A hidden functionary of the court quickly tapped my shoulder and addressed my attention with several facts and elements of law as I took the offerings. Informed, I then placed both offerings, (one noticeably thinner than the other) upon the stone and delicately tapped the scythe with a dull ringing.</p><p></p><p>“It would appear that one of our contestants has presented the absolute minimum expected. Let it be known that while this is disappointing, it is at least satisfactory. Woe be to the churlish competitor who attempts to hide his offering from the jury’s consideration or skulks and sneaks about attempting to escape her Dark Grace’s attention. Aris Dragonborn has at least offered what he could which is more than some in competitions past. Unfortunately, this will mean a shorter round of jury deliberation for this match.”</p><p></p><p>“Aris has presented us with a simple bar scene, pondering the possibilities of fortune and fate, where as Miles has elected for a drab weekend with relatives. On the surface, Aris has trundled along the more fascinating path but unfortunately the story was never able to get beyond its opening premise. Miles has given us a piece where the groundwork has been suitably laid but regrettably without significant pay-off. I was left waiting for the story to find top gear but it barely ventured past first. Where was the twist? Where did the tension go? I prefer a story that makes me wonder where the writer is taking me? What surprise awaits my enraptured gaze? Where will the writer catch me out with his or her cleverness? Such are the things I yearn for when I read.”</p><p></p><p>“Anyway, both stories have been related with good voice but in all seriousness, I believe I can only give adequate response to Miles’s submission. However, I will make my comments general so that they may be of use to all newcomers in this competition. The set of pictures for this match were difficult in their own way.” I nodded to the Gnopf who with a majestic swing pulled the primary lever, projecting the images in cascading display upon the garage. As if reading my mind and requirements, he rotated between them at suitable intervals for the jury’s consideration.</p><p></p><p>“As you can see, there is nothing obtusely strange with these images, nothing easily grasped and flung in some bizarre direction. This is where you the writer must whip the most out of them. Unfortunately, Miles has interpreted these photos in the most literal and conservative way. For example, image three was simply a snapshot pose of two family members pretending to knife a family member in the back. Well damn it; why not have them go through with it? Too risqué? Throwing too much caution to the wind? You must be the judge but at some point, your tale should twist and turn with tension. What about image two and the leprechaun pouring some fluid into someone’s gullet. You thought that was beer!? Bah! It was truth serum, or some strange concoction so that for a year a month and a day, whenever someone was told to do something, they had to obey!”</p><p></p><p>“Now I appreciate that your story was of a more laidback nature, but all the better for contrasting with the completely bizarre and unusual. You will find that the images from this point on in the competition only get worse and the more you try to conservatively straighten them into a story, the more they will want to pull you in ten different directions. My advice: don’t fight it and instead take a few risks. Cast the cat amongst the pigeons. Roll the dice, Take…” I now noticed that the entire front row of the jury was asleep while the back row on the left were trying to start up a Mexican wave.</p><p></p><p>I tapped ‘Lady Death’ to the altar. Nothing. I struck her hard to the stone producing a neat little concussive rumble. The jury now somewhat more attentive awaited my final instruction for the match.</p><p></p><p>“And so, it is with resignation, I ask the jury to step to the right, awarding the privilege to continue to Miles Pilitus.” In no hurry (in fact they seemed totally bored by the affair), the majority moved to award Miles the victory with several stragglers barely bothering to move. I tapped ‘Lady Death’ once more to the altar and such was her first victim of the competition. If nothing else Aris Dragonborn, you pleased her Dark Grace as a tasty meal. I hope to see you compete at fuller health in the future.</p><p></p><p></p><p>-----</p><p>Yangnome: </p><p></p><p>Aris,</p><p></p><p>Thanks again for submitting a partial story. Much better than abandoning the competition all together. I won't put comments on the start as you didn't have a chance to work it into a whole. If you would like comments on that portion, let me know and I'll give them.</p><p></p><p>Miles Pilitus – Family Reunion</p><p></p><p>You write the story of a family reunion in a stream of consciousness style, so I won’t fault you for show vs. tell. The voice of your narrator works and flows well. The story is easy to read and I like the level of description you provide. However, there is no conflict, nothing driving me to make me want to continue reading. I won’t say that this can’t work—I’m a fan of literary fiction and realize you don’t always need a plot, but it would be nice to have some conflict or character motivation to help push the story along. </p><p></p><p>You hinted at some conflict, you mentioned that past reunions have gone bad. This one didn’t. There was slight apprehension, but nothing to drag me along for the ride. It would have been nice to see some potential for things to blow up, only to have the reunion be worthwhile in the end.</p><p></p><p>I thought you made good use of the pictures considering what you turned them into ordinary events at the family reunion. They certainly blended well enough, but like the story, they lacked impact. I thought that the first picture (the clouds over the house) was your strongest picture, mainly due to the fact that you use the small portion of the house in the picture to set the scene for your story.</p><p></p><p>My decision is for Miles </p><p></p><p>Miles wins this round 3-0, congrats.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="yangnome, post: 3333008, member: 7413"] [b]Roud 1 Match 1 judgement Aris Dragonborn vs. Miles Pilitus[/b] Round 1 Match 1: Aris Dragonborn vs. Miles Pilitus Orchid Blossom: Aris Dragonborn I'm sorry the virus took you down, but kudos to you for turning in what you finished. It was great to see that you were putting effort into setting your scene and helping the reader find their place at the table. Since St. Patrick's is a lucky day and the lottery was the discussion, my guess is someone was going to come into some money. The one thing I noticed to comment on in this small sample is that you have a couple superfluous sentences; something that was starting to look like a pattern. the end of the second paragraph, "After all, everyone loved to dream about hitting it big," is an example. Later on, "We had a good laugh at that," and "What a wonderful thing to do on St. Patrick's Day!" all could be cut. The reason being that you've already communicated those ideas through your writing. We already learned the lottery is a favorite discussion, so we know they like to dream about it. By the way, I'm a fellow sufferer from Superfluous Sentence Syndrome (SSS). Judicious editing is the best cure I've found. I just let myself write them and come back later and rip them out. Miles Pilitus We've all been through something like this story, a family reunion, wedding, holiday, anytime you have to spend time with strangers who happen to be related to you, or people you know but don't like. Right off you start from a place that almost any reader can relate to, which makes it easy to slip into the story. A lot of time is devoted to telling us just how hellish this reunion is, but since it's a familiar scene to us already it's much more exposition than we need. And while it is presented as a potential debacle, it is really an ordinary family gathering. The crux of the story seems to be the moment when the family is able to agree on what to do (row on the lake). But the A to B to C style of the story doesn't change when that happens, so that change is presented just as everything else that happened. At this point I should admit that I'm not a fan of first person present point of view. It always makes a story feel like a report to me, and when we are hearing a protagonist's thoughts and end up changing tenses I keep having to change gears. Is that a fault? Maybe not. For me it's a style preference. One other note, be careful of using the same descriptors too often and close together. For example (emphasis mine) "At least the family managed to get the old family house in Virginia. It's an old colonial house near the Roanoke Rapids on the southern border of the state. It's a nice old place..." The pictures fit in the story without jarring the reading, a good thing, but also don't illustrate anything that notes an important point in the story. The leprechaun is the only one that sticks out and illustrates something about the character and the place he's in. Aris I hope you'll come back and try Ceramic DM again. ----- Herremann: Round One - Match One Judgment Aris Dragonborn vs. Miles Pilitus Well hello again everyone, it’s been an interesting week of preparation at the “Herremann” residence, getting equipped and ready for judging another Ceramic DM competition. As some of you may know, judging took me a little by surprise the first time around. I sent away for a judging stick excited about the prospect of giving it a few critical whacks but instead, I received a rather large scythe. There wasn’t too much of a problem with this until the scythe (better known as ‘Lady Death’) began to talk to me, take possession of my mind, toy with my motivations and rack up debts with the netherworld in my name. These debts have been increasingly difficult to pay off - one soul is just simply not enough to bargain with against some of the bigger players down there. Fortunately, my wife never learned about it and since she’s used to strange things lying around here and there (I am a pretty hard-core gamer after all), all went well enough. When ‘Death’ arrived at the end of the competition to get his scythe back, we shared a quick quip before he left, both knowing that my time was not quite up. You wouldn’t have thought it but ‘Death’ is a pretty humourous guy, as long as you get to meet him outside of business hours. Anyway, this time around, my wife took one look at the scythe and just wondered what the hell I had been doing on eBay again before moving on to her own amusements. The imps aren’t quite as bad as you would imagine either as we have a large backyard with a garage right down the back. I have been able to contain them reasonably successfully in there. They’re dead scared of our dog “Bella” for some reason and that keeps them in check, only sporting occasional glances out of the garage window. Fortunately my wife and baby daughter are yet to notice such antics. The imp shipment was complete at thirty-seven and so this should be more than adequate for the competition ahead. Sometimes though, you never know, particularly with the high number of matches to be judged; strange things always seem to happen to these imps during a competition. Well anyway, this is going to be one hell of a night to start with: four judgments to be made and four contestants to be reaped. I’ll have to start early. *** Down the end of my backyard, behind the clad garage and underneath the massive Elm tree, sheltered a small conclave of the netherworld. While “Hell” on Earth is not nearly as dramatic as it sounds, it was still quite a sight. Several torches sprinkled as much light as shadow about the place while several fiendish helpers were running this way and that in preparation. While the thirty-seven imps making up the “enhanced” jury waited in the garage for their presence to be required, ‘Lady Death’s entourage of imps, fey, Gnopfs and minor daemons were busy readying the place. And there she was waiting, carefully addressed upon the granite altar’s surface. Several daemons of obviously minor rank were seeing to her needs as they luxuriated her length with good oil while a flying imp saw to her blade. Cursed by vanity and normally wielded by Death, she was obviously in a good mood awaiting the evening’s activities. To the side carefully overseeing the final manoeuvring of his equipment was my friend the Gnopf. I have no idea of his name, as conversing with him in a common tongue was impossible, but as far as producing images for the fiendish jury to see, his service was pretty good if a little strange. He’s a pretty animated fellow so I can normally get the gist of what he’s trying to communicate. If nothing else, he seems to have a disproportionate level of faith in me. He looked back at me, barked a few commands to his sub-ordinates before nodding. He was obviously ready to go. And so, with the moon at its highest point and the jury finally having been coaxed from the garage, everything was at the ready; the judging of the Ceramic DM Contest of Winter 2007 was about to commence. *** I lifted “Lady Death’; her solid weight pulsing me with an attitude of eagerness. I tapped her gently against the altar. “Good evening Ladies and Daemons of the court, Servants of the afore-mentioned, minor functionaries of little consequence and of course our Infernal Jury for the night’s proceedings. It is incumbent upon you the jury to deliberate with both care and attention so as you may carefully select the offering of tastiest composition for her Dark Grace, Our ‘Lady Death’. Attend to the evidence and details to be presented and with firm resolve, cast your opinion with strong feet and defined purpose. Such I charge you with, or forever may you reside in a pit to be toyed with by Beelzebub.” “In out first contest of penmanship, we have Aris Dragonborn contending with Miles Pilitus. If their offerings may be presented immediately to the Altar of Judgment, the court shall proceed.” At this, two imps garbed in ridiculous finery stepped towards the front with several pages in their grasp. A hidden functionary of the court quickly tapped my shoulder and addressed my attention with several facts and elements of law as I took the offerings. Informed, I then placed both offerings, (one noticeably thinner than the other) upon the stone and delicately tapped the scythe with a dull ringing. “It would appear that one of our contestants has presented the absolute minimum expected. Let it be known that while this is disappointing, it is at least satisfactory. Woe be to the churlish competitor who attempts to hide his offering from the jury’s consideration or skulks and sneaks about attempting to escape her Dark Grace’s attention. Aris Dragonborn has at least offered what he could which is more than some in competitions past. Unfortunately, this will mean a shorter round of jury deliberation for this match.” “Aris has presented us with a simple bar scene, pondering the possibilities of fortune and fate, where as Miles has elected for a drab weekend with relatives. On the surface, Aris has trundled along the more fascinating path but unfortunately the story was never able to get beyond its opening premise. Miles has given us a piece where the groundwork has been suitably laid but regrettably without significant pay-off. I was left waiting for the story to find top gear but it barely ventured past first. Where was the twist? Where did the tension go? I prefer a story that makes me wonder where the writer is taking me? What surprise awaits my enraptured gaze? Where will the writer catch me out with his or her cleverness? Such are the things I yearn for when I read.” “Anyway, both stories have been related with good voice but in all seriousness, I believe I can only give adequate response to Miles’s submission. However, I will make my comments general so that they may be of use to all newcomers in this competition. The set of pictures for this match were difficult in their own way.” I nodded to the Gnopf who with a majestic swing pulled the primary lever, projecting the images in cascading display upon the garage. As if reading my mind and requirements, he rotated between them at suitable intervals for the jury’s consideration. “As you can see, there is nothing obtusely strange with these images, nothing easily grasped and flung in some bizarre direction. This is where you the writer must whip the most out of them. Unfortunately, Miles has interpreted these photos in the most literal and conservative way. For example, image three was simply a snapshot pose of two family members pretending to knife a family member in the back. Well damn it; why not have them go through with it? Too risqué? Throwing too much caution to the wind? You must be the judge but at some point, your tale should twist and turn with tension. What about image two and the leprechaun pouring some fluid into someone’s gullet. You thought that was beer!? Bah! It was truth serum, or some strange concoction so that for a year a month and a day, whenever someone was told to do something, they had to obey!” “Now I appreciate that your story was of a more laidback nature, but all the better for contrasting with the completely bizarre and unusual. You will find that the images from this point on in the competition only get worse and the more you try to conservatively straighten them into a story, the more they will want to pull you in ten different directions. My advice: don’t fight it and instead take a few risks. Cast the cat amongst the pigeons. Roll the dice, Take…” I now noticed that the entire front row of the jury was asleep while the back row on the left were trying to start up a Mexican wave. I tapped ‘Lady Death’ to the altar. Nothing. I struck her hard to the stone producing a neat little concussive rumble. The jury now somewhat more attentive awaited my final instruction for the match. “And so, it is with resignation, I ask the jury to step to the right, awarding the privilege to continue to Miles Pilitus.” In no hurry (in fact they seemed totally bored by the affair), the majority moved to award Miles the victory with several stragglers barely bothering to move. I tapped ‘Lady Death’ once more to the altar and such was her first victim of the competition. If nothing else Aris Dragonborn, you pleased her Dark Grace as a tasty meal. I hope to see you compete at fuller health in the future. ----- Yangnome: Aris, Thanks again for submitting a partial story. Much better than abandoning the competition all together. I won't put comments on the start as you didn't have a chance to work it into a whole. If you would like comments on that portion, let me know and I'll give them. Miles Pilitus – Family Reunion You write the story of a family reunion in a stream of consciousness style, so I won’t fault you for show vs. tell. The voice of your narrator works and flows well. The story is easy to read and I like the level of description you provide. However, there is no conflict, nothing driving me to make me want to continue reading. I won’t say that this can’t work—I’m a fan of literary fiction and realize you don’t always need a plot, but it would be nice to have some conflict or character motivation to help push the story along. You hinted at some conflict, you mentioned that past reunions have gone bad. This one didn’t. There was slight apprehension, but nothing to drag me along for the ride. It would have been nice to see some potential for things to blow up, only to have the reunion be worthwhile in the end. I thought you made good use of the pictures considering what you turned them into ordinary events at the family reunion. They certainly blended well enough, but like the story, they lacked impact. I thought that the first picture (the clouds over the house) was your strongest picture, mainly due to the fact that you use the small portion of the house in the picture to set the scene for your story. My decision is for Miles Miles wins this round 3-0, congrats. [/QUOTE]
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Ceramic DM Winter 07 (Final Judgment Posted)
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