Page 1 of 7
#1
Hey there writers of UG! This is for you. We've been hosting an ongoing competition for short stories! Unlike last round though, we're hoping that this thread will continue on. If you've any interest in writing, even if you've never tried, this is where to start! We will tell you how to do better.

The first one went very well, with 25 entrants and three judges, and the winner was dann_blood. The second round went just as well, and Sir Anonymous was crowned victor. In the third, Neopowell the PUSO was first place finisher. In the fourth round, webbtje took first place. In the fifth, Todd Hart pulled an upset for first with his first entry into this competition. The 6th round found vintage x metal victorious. The 7th was thebaron####. The most recent competition crowned Todd Hart first place finisher. All the threads can be found in the searchbar, and you can read the old stories in the threads and see old results there as well.


This tenth round will be Flash Fictions, just as the first round.


The last few rounds we used 500 words, and to keep that tradition going we'll do 500 again. There is no cap on entrances, but you're limited to one story per user.

We need judges, however. Go ahead and volunteer to judge.

The theme this round is "Repetition."

To explain, it doesn't mean you have to write a poem or anything, in fact it probably would be a bad idea as they usually finish either near last or middle of the pack.
#2
There once was a man who had to babysit his young nephew. The child was very well-behaved, but when it was time for him to go to sleep, he insisted on having a story read to him. "How about this book?", the uncle asked. "No!", said the lad. "How about this magazine?", the uncle asked. "No!", said the lad. "I want you to make one up!"
The uncle thought for a short while, then began: "There once was a man who had to babysit his young nephew. The child was very well-behaved, but when it was time for him to go to sleep, he insisted on having a story read to him. "How about this book?", the uncle asked. "No!", said the lad. "How about this magazine?", the uncle asked. "No!", said the lad. "I want you to make one up!"
The uncle thought for a short while, then began:..."

I'm obviously not going to pretend that I wrote this, but as far as repetitive short stories go, this is about as repetitive as they get. My dad always pulled this one on me when I wanted a story as a kid to piss me off

So can I volunteer to judge, instead?
#3
Quote by CoreysMonster
I'm obviously not going to pretend that I wrote this, but as far as repetitive short stories go, this is about as repetitive as they get. My dad always pulled this one on me when I wanted a story as a kid to piss me off

So can I volunteer to judge, instead?

Yes you can. And I'd imagine most people will do the theme by writing a story about a repetitive task or deja vu or the daily grind or something. I think it will result is some less exciting stories but hopefully still with good depth like we've had.
#6
I'll take part in this, but I don't know if I'll do it as a judge or an entrant because I am interested in writing and in evaluating other people's writing

If there's no cap on entrants I'll give it some time to decide.
#7
In.


Quote by Mistress_Ibanez
I'll take part in this, but I don't know if I'll do it as a judge or an entrant because I am interested in writing and in evaluating other people's writing

If there's no cap on entrants I'll give it some time to decide.

There's no cap.
████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████
█████████████████████████
██████████████████████████
███████████████████████████
███████████████████████████
███████████████████████████
███████████████████████████
#8
Quote by Mistress_Ibanez
I'll take part in this, but I don't know if I'll do it as a judge or an entrant because I am interested in writing and in evaluating other people's writing

If there's no cap on entrants I'll give it some time to decide.

I wouldn't place a cap unless we got to around 40 entrants, which is double our usual.
#11
When's the deadline?
Hull City A.F.C

Quote by Thrashtastic15
crunkym toy diuckl;ess ass ****igkjn ****** **** bitch ass pussy ****er douchecanoe ****** **** you s omn cnt you lieet le biutch
#13
Right, here's my story, which I'll probably change around at times:

Ordinary Life

I wake up at 7.30am, and drag myself out of bed a few minutes after that. I stumble around in a pre-caffeine trance, with the usual routine: Shower, shave, get dressed, get breakfast, leave for work. The supermarket brand coffee that I have just before I leave stimulates me a little, and I head to work feeling slightly more awake than when I got up.

I step onto the bus, and go through the same motions as I do every day, and sit in around the same seat. Although there aren' t the same people , they have the same lack of importance to me. They're just drones who're there to fill the spaces, they mean nothing to me.

I do the same mundane tasks at work: filing, copying, sorting. It's of no importance to anyone really. My work is never really noticed, it's just something that is done, and will only be noticed if it's not done. My work is as noticable as breathing, which you only think about when it's mentioned.

I have no real hobbies out of work. I used to be part of a local badmintion team, but age and a recent increase in waistline rule out doing that now. When I get home, I sit on the same sofa, watching some irrelevant TV programme. There's no variety in my evening activites really, apart from the rare occasion that someone visits, maybe a family member who remembers my existance, or some 'friend' who needs a favour.

I sometimes sit with the TV still on, and think about what I could've been. I was a good student back in my college days, well, at first anyway. But I was taken over by a feeling of apathy for doing work. What was the point of doing work when I could hang around with friends?

The look in my mother's eyes when I sheepishly walked in after I got the letter from College will haunt me to this day. The disappointment icily slipped down to the pit of my stomach like a dead weight. She'd worked all of her life to try and help me become successful, and she thoughy that she'd done it when I got into college. But my adolescent foolishness threw her hard work back at her like a book slamming shut on her, and my prospects.

Occasionally on a night, when the day's worries have passed me by, I'll drift back to this moment in my life in my mind, replaying it constantly like a broken video player. A few foolish mistakes have thrown my life into an endless cycle of disappointment and worthlessness. It's the one time that my mind isn't spent vaguely doing meaningless tasks.

I don't look back at my life looking at what I achieved, I look back, and just see my mother's face looking back.

Eventually my thoughts will dissipate into deep sleep, where I'll be free from the disappointments that's resting upon me.

Then at 7.30am, I'll wake up again.
Hull City A.F.C

Quote by Thrashtastic15
crunkym toy diuckl;ess ass ****igkjn ****** **** bitch ass pussy ****er douchecanoe ****** **** you s omn cnt you lieet le biutch
Last edited by cam_sampbell at Apr 18, 2011,
#15
It's what you get when you have absolutely nothing to do
Hull City A.F.C

Quote by Thrashtastic15
crunkym toy diuckl;ess ass ****igkjn ****** **** bitch ass pussy ****er douchecanoe ****** **** you s omn cnt you lieet le biutch
#17
I'm going to wait a bit, haven't decided if I'll skip this round and judge. I'll judge if not enough step up.

Is there an approximate deadline as of yet?
#18
Quote by severed-metal
I'll judge again.

Is that a very short story or are you volunteering as a judge?
████████████████████████████
███████████████████████████
█████████████████████████
██████████████████████████
███████████████████████████
███████████████████████████
███████████████████████████
███████████████████████████
#20
Quote by kid meatball
I'm going to wait a bit, haven't decided if I'll skip this round and judge. I'll judge if not enough step up.

Is there an approximate deadline as of yet?

Deadline will be no sooner than april first, but will very likely be more like april 15th. Depends on how fast the entries pour in.
#21
I am in like Pabst Blue Ribbon.

Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell;
And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep
Still threatening to devour me opens wide,
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven.



Bored? read these, or this
#22
I'll enter. Worst topic choice of all time though. When's the deadline?
Quote by yellowfrizbee
What does a girl have to do to get it in the butt thats all I ever wanted from you. Why, Ace? Why? I clean my asshole every night hoping and wishing and it never happens.
Bitches be Crazy.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
#23
In again.
...it was bright as the sun, but with ten times the heat
#24
Quote by Kensai
Is that a very short story or are you volunteering as a judge?


Note: Make sure to give Kensai first place...
#28
I had an idea, but then I realized Christopher Nolan already made a movie about it. So...any free ideas?

Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell;
And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep
Still threatening to devour me opens wide,
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven.



Bored? read these, or this
#29
Can I use a story that I wrote a few days ago, that happens to fit the theme perfectly? Cause if so, I'm in, if not, I'm probably not in.
Tool
Sleep
Gojira
Puscifer
Neurosis
Sunn O)))
Meshuggah
Modest Mouse
Electric Wizard
Mammoth Grinder


Lucid Dreaming Thread
#30
Quote by chaos13
Can I use a story that I wrote a few days ago, that happens to fit the theme perfectly? Cause if so, I'm in, if not, I'm probably not in.

Yurp.

Every idea I've had has magically turned into 4000 word bastards. I never shoulda taken a flash fic break...
#31
Quote by chaos13
Can I use a story that I wrote a few days ago, that happens to fit the theme perfectly? Cause if so, I'm in, if not, I'm probably not in.

Yeah you can. We would have no way of knowing one way or the other so it's silly to require that.
#33
I'll join in.
So the deadline is unconfirmed and we just post our entries in this thread?
So come on in
it ain't no sin
take off your skin
and dance around in your bones

#35
A bit short, but whatever.

Sea of Bells

Minutes before his death, Jed awoke and began trying to unfetter himself from his various lines and tubes. Maria had thought she could keep herself together, but watching her grandfather struggle weakly against the machines keeping him alive, she began to cry. Was a quiet, dignified end to his suffering too much to ask for? Maria’s husband wrapped an arm around her. She wanted to plunge her face into his shoulder, but she forced herself to keep watching the thin, wasted man who had once been so noble. A nurse was gently fending off Jed’s attempts to unhook himself. The look of vapid patience on her face as she pushed Jed’s hands down over and over was too much for Maria to bear; she turned away, pressing her face into her husband’s chest. As she stood like that, shivering with the force of her grief, Jed’s struggling ceased.
He was drifting in a vast sea of blackness. He was devoid of any physical sensation whatsoever, and his thoughts seemed to ring like bells in the silence. He had the feeling of being in a dream that has been dreamt before. He drifted for minutes, decades, how could he tell? Was there a difference even if he could? He became aware that he could sense (not see, but that was close enough) lights below him. He focused on them, and the bells of his thoughts became sirens shattering the gloom. Stretching into the infinite distance below, glowing and moving and playing out forever more, were all the countless lives he had lived before, the unnumbered identities his being had taken up and cast off. It was like looking into a mirror facing another mirror. This thought jarred him, and he looked up. Above him, reaching on and on into the darkness, were the lives he had yet to live, thousands and thousands of them. He was filled with a weariness too deep for even his throbbing thoughts to contemplate. As the sable ocean pulled him toward his next incarnation, he despaired.

Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell;
And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep
Still threatening to devour me opens wide,
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven.



Bored? read these, or this
#36
Patterns

n the beginning there was nothing besides a remote speck of awareness, the faintest sense of self. I was satisfied just to exist.

Innumerable eons passed.

And between one moment and another, there was a new sensation. An agony so profound I would have screamed for the immensity of it, for the consuming passion with which it enveloped me, had I possessed a voice. Through the pain shot tendrils of ecstasy, ripping through the fiber of my being, flooding me in waves of pleasure. It drained, leaving me exhausted.

For ages more, I drifted.

My awareness was more intense, but it lacked a purpose. I recalled something that had happened long ago that gave me focus, but I had no idea how to find it again. So I drifted, searching.

The wandering stopped, after a time. There was something to be found where I was at. So I waited, confused, wondering how I felt like this. Then somehow I reached a part of myself, pulled it away from the rest. It encountered something else. My mind reeled, and I fled.

More time passed.

I could no longer remember how I came to be, but I retained one vivid memory, of a time I touched something else. This singular thought remained clear. My curiosity grew, creating an emptiness in my center that fed on itself, becoming larger with each passing moment.

So I returned.

I reached out cautiously, feeling prepared for anything. A greasy dust crumbled beneath my touch, collected on me. What happened next was something I could never have prepared for, as it was nothing I could have imagined.
My mind burst into countless shards as I saw light, and color. I saw the outline of where I brushed away the film of my blindness, and reached out again to expand my view.

I spent another eternity watching those colors swirl madly around each other.

Patterns began to make themselves recognized. I eventually learned that I was looking at your world. My first trip into it was a harrowing experience. All my energy compressed into a single body, one that resisted movement, and savored stillness. This was anathema to everything I knew. I grew into it, and learned it. I would return to my home often, but I always came back. You delighted me.

You taught me to understand time, and separation. I learned of sorrow, happiness, anger. My gift to you was love, compassion, and truth. But where I learned of you gratefully, you cast my knowledge aside scornfully.

On my last visit here, I glance at the cracked skin of the flesh I wear, once pure and whole. My knuckles are broken and bleeding, but the patterns in the lines of my palms still fascinate me. Patterns still fascinate me. You have drained me of all I have to offer, and I accept that I will die in your world. The unknown awaits me, or perhaps nothing does.

Patterns fascinate me.
Tool
Sleep
Gojira
Puscifer
Neurosis
Sunn O)))
Meshuggah
Modest Mouse
Electric Wizard
Mammoth Grinder


Lucid Dreaming Thread
Last edited by chaos13 at May 2, 2011,
#38
I think this needs a serious bump.
Hull City A.F.C

Quote by Thrashtastic15
crunkym toy diuckl;ess ass ****igkjn ****** **** bitch ass pussy ****er douchecanoe ****** **** you s omn cnt you lieet le biutch