Story starts will also be posted here, as will ratings for the story starts. Once we choose a start, all story additions will be posted in the story thread, and there will be no ratings.

Please e-mail or post here with any questions. (Please note that this area is no longer password protected.)

Cheers,
Luc

If you'd like to send a story start and haven't already, please don't forget to send it along by 9PM EST Sunday to luc@meadowdance.org.

Here are our story starts! There are five. Everyone, whether you expect to participate or not, is welcome to rate these.
Please use a rating of 1 (least engaging to you as a reader) to 10 (most engaging). Please try not to let your selection be influenced by writing factors, e.g. what you would find it easiest to continue. Please consider how much the start does in the space it takes up--that is, please try not to penalize for length.

Send ratings to luc@meadowdance.org by 9PM EST, Thursday, December 12th. I'll post them anonymously as I get them. If you can think of any comments to include that help explain your rating, great.

After all the ratings are in, I'll average them, and the highest rating will determine the story start. It will be posted in the story thread, and then we'll all be able to take turns continuing the story there as per the instructions in the start of the Story thread.

Looking forward to hearing your responses! Writers, thanks for contributing these.

Of course all rights to the story starts below belong to the individual writers who created them.

#1
"I won't, I won't, I won't," Namista snarled. Flinging both arms out, releasing tense muscles in wrists and fingers, she arched her back violently until a cascade of popping noises reverberated down her spine.

---

#2
"Pump pump pump!" bellowed the techmaster, gliding through the ranks of the indentured, whose dreams and hopes had long evaporated away like the steams of the machines into which they sweated their lives.

Like the ancient world, where slaves were made docile by whips, so too did the techmaster wield a counterpart--a whip humming with electric current--for such purposes.

The engines thundered and trembled. The gears grinded and turned. The etchers slammed to mold. The heat flared and scorched. As the techmaster lashed the worn and torn of humans.

"Move faster! Pound harder!" screamed the techmaster, flinging his whip erratic, no show of mercy.

When the techmaster came to Segen, he stopped his cheers of motivation and grinned. "Aah...the rebel. The defiant one. Where is your knowledge to help you?"

Segen, born to the third lowliest grade of society, had studied the Forbidden Forms, knowledge meant only for the elite--those who ruled and lived in luxury, those who commanded the wills of others.

Segen made no response to the techmaster's taunt.

Adell, of the highest grade, the Xera, had spared Segen his life, after the discovery of his taint on the Forbidden Forms in her district. His punishment, instead of death, was the work of the lowliest grade for one year, here in this forsaken factory that broke the spirits of even the broken. Many saw Segen's light punishment reflective of Adell's considerable kindness. The truth, as Segen and Adell knew it, was Adell's fondness for beautiful objects. Segen, aware of that fondness and of his physical features, exploited it. He knew of no other way to restructure this world of misery. He had to learn the Forbidden Forms.

It had been Adell's jealous father, angered that Segen held Adell's affections when he could not, who discovered and accused Segen of knowing the Forbidden Forms. His accusation was essentially a judgement. But because Segen lived in Adell's district, he was subject to her rulings. And because this was a matter of the Xera public, Adell could not simply ignore her
father. Thus, the sentencing to the factory.

"Xera Adell is too kind..." continued the techmaster. "But I am not!" He swung his whip which wrapped around Segen's neck, and yanked, throwing Segen and smashing him into one of the great engines, whose surface miraged heat.

Segen neither cringed nor cried out in pain. The techmaster continued his assault, burning and bruising welts on Segen's flesh. Only after Segen had slumped unconscious did the techmaster hopped away, whistling, and then continuing his rounds of motivating the workers.

---

#3
Avis scrunched up her nose as she entered the girls' locker room. Some people think that boys' locker rooms have a stench, but Avis thought that nothing could be worse than the odors of sweaty teenage girls blended with the sticky-sweet perfumes of body care products. She stifled a cough and slunk toward a changing area.

Lowering her bag onto the bench, she looked furtively around. Her classmates were in various states of undress, but so far no one had paid her any notice. She wriggled out of her jeans as quickly as possible and slipped into her shorts. She went through the curious ritual of changing her shirt without revealing her chest; such feat accomplished by first pulling her arms into her blouse, tucking them into the t-shirt, and then swiftly exchanging the tops.

Avis' blouse fell to the floor, where it was promptly stepped on by a dirty shoe.

---

#4
"No, Gene," Derek snapped. He worked at the nursing home where Gene lived. "For the last time, no more batteries."

"I almost have enough," Gene wheezed. "I'm building a time machine, you know." His head felt a little foggy. He'd have to start thinking straight if he was going to get those last two batteries.

"It's good you've got a hobby," Derek said, straightening out the bed. He was blank-faced, heavyset, disrespectful. Gene could tell he didn't believe about the time machine. "If you didn't have a hobby, I'm worried you'd go crazy, start spouting nonsense. We'd have to put you to sleep. We do that, you know." He grinned.

Always amused by themselves, the young. Gene grumbled in his throat and flicked a glance at Derek's Discman. Just those two would do it, Gene knew, but he knew he shouldn't ask for them. Shouldn't even have brought up the subject, in case it had put Derek on his guard.

"There you go, old man. Bounce a quarter of that if you want to. See you at lunch."

He was leaving too soon. Gene lurched out of his chair. His legs were wobbly, worse every year. Five years ago he could have jogged a mile. "Wait!" he said. "What are they having?" Pitiful, pitiful excuse for a delaying tactic, but the bright side was these youngsters thought of Gene and all the others in the home as helpless feebs. Well, Gene had pulled a few cons in his time that would have made this dimwit's head spin.

"I don't know. I think it's something with chicken and broccoli. What do you care? Yours is always pureed anyway."

"I just--" Gene lurched forward and fell, grunting as he hit the floor. That always made it more believable, that little grunt. Derek ran over to him. Probably wondered if he had broken a bone, Gene thought. Well, good.

"Damn, Gene, use your chair! You don't need to be walking around like that."

"I'm sorry."

"Are you OK? Anything broken? You really took a fall there."

"I just want to lie down," Gene said in his helpless feeb voice.

"Well, just relax." Derek heaved Gene onto the bed. "I'll be back to help you into your chair at lunchtime, OK?"

"OK. Thank you, Bobby."

"I'm Derek," Derek said, shaking his head. "Bobby quit months ago."

Gene squinted at him. "Are you sure?"

Derek was still shaking his head as he left the room.

Gene waited about three minutes before climbing out of bed. He crept to the door and shut it, then went back and took the Discman he had lifted out from under his pillow. He removed the batteries and threw the Discman into the trash. The last two batteries! His heart was racing. He felt like a young man again. He slid his box out from under the bed, swept photographs off the battery pack, and put the last two in. The thing seemed to have been made to work off of some kind of solar panel, but the solar panel was smashed when they gave it to him. It had been difficult to rig it up to use double A's, but Gene had done it. It needed two hundred double A's.

He flicked the switch and hoped he had understood the women right, the ones who had given it to him that day in the PT room. He thought they told had him it was a time machine, and he had believed them. Anyone would have, after what they had shown him. The machine pinged erratically, and a panel on the front lit up in green.

---

Following is a late addition; the author had problems with an Internet connection. Sorry for any inconvenience. Please e-mail or post here if you have any concerns. Thanks!

#5
The frog regarded Qimat with solemn, uninterested eyes. Its body sat squat, motionless but for the rhythmic swelling of its throat, yet she could see the life within it, ready to spring into action should she make her move too quickly. Around her, the other students laughed and chatted as they crowded to grab their frogs from the oversized aquarium. Qimat inched her slight, pale hands down on either side of her frog, pausing when it seemed it would jump away. Then with a snap, she cupped the frog beneath them and waited until its slimy form stopped writhing. She enclosed it within her hands, its sticky padded toes moving across her fingers as she lifted it from the aquarium. Hurrying back to her table, Qimat couldn’t help but spread her thin lips into a smile. Today is the big day. Will I do it? Can I do it?

Dr. Trory stepped in front of the class and called everyone to attention. The room hushed and the few remaining dawdlers secured their frogs and hurried back to their tables. "Each partner should have their own frog, swab, jar, and tools," her withered voice spoke the words as though she had repeated them for decades on end. "Begin by placing your frog into your jar and securing the lid."

Qimat opened her hands over the jar and watched the frog plop to the bottom. She lowered her round black eyes to its level, touching her nose to the table edge, and stared at it, the thick, wavy glass obscuring her view only slightly, as she secured the lid. It fidgeted for a moment or two beside the swab, Qimat could still feel the life within it, then settled at the bottom.

"Make certain," Dr. Trory’s voice grew loud and firm, "that the lid is properly secured; it is vitally important." Her creased face softened a little. "It will take a few minutes for the frog to pass. Watch carefully, then you know what to do."

Each student’s eyes turned to their frog. Qimat watched and waited until the swelling of her frog’s throat grew erratic, slowed, and came to a halt. She reached into her tool case and removed a slender knife and a small rod, her eyes still fixed on the jar. The frog lay still for a moment before she saw it. A slight movement along its back that grew until its source, a vaporous body of green and brown, rose from the animal. With a hop, the hazy form fully emerged—a paled, nearly transparent version of the dead frog. Qimat smiled again as its eye regarded her with the same uninterested stare the frog had given her at the aquarium.

"I just can’t see it." A thin, lanky youth, Qimat’s partner, lifted his jar to his face and stared into it. Qimat turned to him and watched as his frog spirit kicked about, then found its way out of the lid. He poked at the jar. "Are you dead yet?"

"Maybe you’ll be able to see it next time, Ram," Qimat set her tools down and patted his shoulder.

Tristram shook his head. "I don’t know. This is the third time I’ve taken this class and I still can’t see them. Maybe if I concentrate more ..." He leaned in closer to the jar.

"Don’t bother. Your frog spirit escaped." She watched as it leaped across the floor, finally leaving the room through the distant wall. Tristram set the jar down in resignation and trudged out of the classroom, mumbling under his breath.

Qimat sighed and turned her attention back to her frog spirit. She picked up her tools, blade in the left hand, rod in the right, and stared down at where it still sat, perched contentedly upon its body. [I]I can’t worry about Ram now. I must finish this. I must see if I am able.[I]

#1 7: A bit of strangeness, peaked my curiosity.

#2 4: Too much flashback for me right at the start. The amount of material
covered as background sounds like a story in its own right that deserves to
be fleshed out. Right now I feel like I’m being asked to care about
characters in ways I’m not really equipped to do so. Maybe a good opening
for part 2 of 3

#3 7: Liked the scene set, enjoyed the word usage. Not an in-you-face-grab
opening, yet interesting because it’s nicely developed.

#4 5: Just wasn’t really drawn to the character. Found Gene an odd mixture
of bumbling and quick-thinking that didn’t set quite right. Batteries for
time machine could be interesting though.

#5 8: Intriguing setup, nice use of detail. Loved the frog spirits. I’m
curious as to what comes next.

---

#1 7
Liked the description, not as interested in the character as I might have been if she(?) had some similarly intense but less petulant reaction. A good story might grow from this though, certainly.

#2 5
I don't feel very involved because of the omniscient POV. The techmaster kind of turns me off because he seems like a one-faceted villain type. Segen is an interesting character to me.

#3 6
This piece was evocative for me, but ironically I was a little turned off because of how effectively the place was portrayed and because I had a sense of bad things coming that I might not enjoy reading about--both signs that the writing reached me and was effective. I enjoyed the insight into the character even this brief scene gave. Very, very minor point: we seem to step briefly out of her POV when reference is made to her "curious ritual" because it doesn't seem to me like she would think of it that way.

#5 8
I enjoyed this. I find the frog dissection situation kind of inherently uncomfortable (in a good way for a story), and the immediate twist on it (frog spirits) was interesting to me. I didn't get at first that Ram was short for Tristram. I enjoyed the description, but in a few places it broke my sense of seeing things through Qimat's point of view (e.g. when the narration described Qimat herself--I wouldn't imagine she would describe herself to herself, if you know what I mean).

#1:7 good hook for length, aroused my curiousity. lots of potential.

#2:5 tries to cram too much too soon. characters seem flat.

#3:7 could go a lot of directions. i can identify with Avis' situation.

#4:6 Derek's character appears to fluctuate. i suppose someone can be highly disrespectful (i believe that word is actually used...) and yet caring at the same time (he seems concerned that Gene could be hurt), but it doesn't sit well with me. i suppose D could just be concerned G's fall doesn't land him in trouble, but... at any rate, i like the time machine idea. but then, i was practically raised on Back to the Future.

---

#1 Powerful character
Disturbing violence
Must find out what happens next. Too disturbing not to keep reading.

Rating: 9

#2 Didn't grab me
Opens like something I've seen before
Too much setting, not enough character to care about

Rating: 3

#3 Mine; but if I had to rate I'd give it a 7. It doesn't have enough of a problem to launch a story.

#4 I didn't find the characters engaging or particularly believable. They didn't seem "deep" enough for me to care about.

Rating: 5

#5 Cool concept that made me reread the whole passage and say wow
Interesting character - Qima
Great use of descriptive details
One thing I didn't like - it reminded me too much of The Golden Compass

Rating: 8

---

#1: 6 A good opener, but I think there should have been more development.

#2: People are right--too much details, too raw, etc. I won't rate this one cause its mine.

#3: 6 Well written, engaging to read. However, I've seen too many locker room scenes.

#4: 7 I like the character development in this, especially the part where Gene mistakes Derek for Bobby.

#5: 8 I'm not trying to go with the flow of groupthink (for us some who don't know what it is, groupthink is bad! it supports biases and suppresses creativity) but I like the twist at the end. It gives flair to the story.

I'll post the story start in the story thread, and then we can start adding on! Please remember to read the guidelines posted at the beginning of that thread if you haven't already, and you can direct questions, problems, complaints, ideas, etc. to me at luc@meadowdance.org

The ratings (authors' ratings of their own work were set aside for these totals):

#1
"I won't, I won't, I won't,"
Avg rating: 5.86

#2
"Pump pump pump!" bellowed the techmaster
Avg rating: 3.86

#3
Avis scrunched up her nose as she entered the girls' locker room.
Avg rating: 6.14

#4
"No, Gene," Derek snapped.
Avg rating: 6.14

First of all, that suggests a bunch of weird things:
1) That spirits have parts that you can look at in isolation
2) That you can cut a spirit with something
3) That after the death of the body, it's possible to have the death of the spirit
4) That there's something valuable to be learned in seeing the parts of a spirit, that this is knowledge that's considered useful, perhaps for some line of professionals. Because of the parallel with dissecting frog bodies, I'm assuming the lesson is not one of technique, of how to cut a spirit apart, because then it seems like the class would be structured differently.

So this all would imply that there are human spirits that can be seen after death that persist for some time, or forever, and that those human spirits can be and probably sometimes are cut apart for some reason--I guess this suggests itself to me by analogy with frog dissection again.

On a different note, it doesn't seem to me that we have the major conflict or issue that will drive the story yet, although we have plenty of bridging tension to carry us to that point. But the opening of the story suggests to me that the tension will have something to do with the parts of a spirit, probably a human spirit, unless there's an intelligent frog spirit or something.

So--a revelation that a spirit goes on living in a sort of torturous, cut-apart version after you dissect it, so that there are humans in this kind of pain now (something that conventional wisdom says isn't the case)?
- Or that some frog spirits are human spirits or other intelligences?
- Or that once a spirit dies, that's the end of that spirit, and perhaps spirits are needed to replenish the bodies that are being born on the earth, and this is the explanation for the precipitous decline in population, that humans have been blithely killing off frogs and humans and other spirits for some purposes of their own, not realizing that they were permanently curbing the amount of life on the planet?

Or ... what else?

TTFN & lol

TTFN & lol

Good point about length. I also agree that it makes sense to shoot for short story length, but perhaps we won't feel too concerned if it starts expanding into something more like the length of a novelette (about 7,500-15,000 words) or novella (past 15,000 words). Then again, maybe it will wrap up nicely at 5,000 ...

In some ways, my post may have been a copout. I introduced more new questions than I answered, and only supplied a little more detail about the setting.

They definitely seemed to be preparing to cut something in the frog spirits--I guess the existence of the knife seemed to make that necessary.

So now I'm wondering: What is that goat thing and why is it in the classroom? Why can Tristram see it, and why can most everyone else not see it? I don't think Dr. Trory can. What's the spiritualist supposed to do about it? Was the class sent out because of some danger? If so, then why did Dr. Trory consider it safe enough (or important enough) to hang onto Qimat and Tristram? If not, why did they have to leave?

Well, I'm excited to see where this goes. If anyone has comments about the continuation I posted not agreeing with the beginning of the story or having other problems, please don't hesitate to post them. Who's next?

the first entry says: "Tristram set the jar down in resignation and trudged out of the classroom, mumbling under his breath." in the second entry, he's still in the classroom. i think the quickest fix for this would be to shorten the first entry to read something to the effect of "Tristram set the jar down in resignation, mumbling under his breath." what does everyone think?

i like the leading of the frog with the rod, but is a pentagram the best place to take it to? i'm not wiccan, so i'm not sure, but could this offend those who use that symbol for religious purposes? (although, come to think of it, blades and some form of rod also play a role in wicca, though i'm not sure how exactly.... anyway, the pentagram has a more direct correlation.)

TTFN & lol

Hearing no objections, I took out the line about Tristram leaving the room. I apologize for that error. So, who's next?

About the pentacle (which is a little disc inscribed with a pentagram): A pentagram or pentacle is to my recollection the "traditional" means of confining a spirit in one place. Wiccans use the symbol, but it didn't originate with Wicca. That said, I'd be just as happy for us to use some other word or made-up object.

Anyone ready to continue the story? There are lots of things to explore, but I'm concerned the story will turn stale for us (and not serve its purpose) if we don't plunge ahead and write more of it. Besides which, I want to see what happens next!

Are there problems with the story as it's gone so far? If so, we might consider rolling back to just the initial story start and having someone do a new second piece of the story, going from there.

Are people just tied up over Christmas?

Are folks reluctant to post due to not feeling confident enough about their contributions?

Something else?

Hope you're all enjoying whatever bits of the holidays are coming your way.

So much for my idea that Dr. Trory was a minor character, soon to be axed. Sounds like she's in the middle of something.

My first thought was that Adiel had some kind of romantic connection to her. My second was that he was some spirit with which she was familiar but somehow had lost connection with--I mean, if she knows about the spirit by name, she would have seen it at some point, right?

And my first thought about what the central thrust of the story is is that the two kids are able to see things that other people have lost the ability to see, and that there is some predatory spirit that very serious adults are going to be very serious about tracking down.

Or this could be a bridging conflict, leading up to some more personal problem for our protagonist, in which case maybe "being taken" isn't as unusual or ominous as it sounds to me.

Where else can we go with this???

the cloud thing seemed a little overkill to me at first, but i have to admitt i had fun writing about it. (can you tell i forgot about the Spiritualist 'til the end? i think sticking her at the end works well though--after all, how fast can a student get to the Spiritualist's office if she's on the fifth floor and the Spiritualist is...on any other floor. )

anyway, i'm curious to see what comes of this. how big a role should Adiel be (the name, by the way, means 'goat.' )? is this going to be a major plot line? is the cloud going to be our man vs. nature adversary? or is cloud things going after spirits just the way nature works? why could Qimat see Adiel's spirit only faintly at first? (does it take a while for seekers to develop their sense fully? is Adiel somehow special?)

TTFN & lol

TTFN & lol

Marianne, I hear what you're saying about the tone of the piece. Is there any way your concerns could be brought into the piece to make it richer? Maybe one or more characters share them? Maybe the nature of this cloud-thing or other spirits is central to the mysteries the story is bringing out? Just an idea.

So what's our job at this point in the story? To clarify the central problem and get the characters active in working against it? Or to make things more mysterious still? At some point soon maybe we should start helping the reader understand what the heck is going on by interweaving some backstory with the forward movement of the story ... or at least that's my thought. I'm interested to see the next piece!

Luc

TTFN & lol

Cosmi

TTFN & ?

Thanks!
Luc

Kolona, what exactly were we to nevermind about?

TTFN & lol