Current winner @ColdFusion180 has chosen the following for this one:
I'd set the deadline at December 28, 11 pm CET
I'd set the deadline at December 28, 11 pm CET
Contest: ENTER November/December Challenge: With or Without
- Thread starter Count Zero
- Start date
Hmmm...
Maybe I have my dunce cap on this morning, but what does that prompt even mean?
The theme is defined by the writer's imagination. Have fun and be creative!
How can we submit to this challenge?
I am sorry, new here.
Post your story in a thread here in this forum. then post a link to it in this thread.
Thank you!
Two things:
1) If you're going to say "with or without," you have to define "with or without WHAT."
2) If the challenge is to write whatever we want, why don't just say "Write whatever you want?"
Going on duty with or without your underwear on, going to the Academy with or without your childhood stuffed toy, struggling through an addiction or mental health issue with or without support, carrying on in Starfleet with or without the person you love the most in this universe, there are loads of ways it could be interpreted. One thing that springs to my mind is writing two stories that explore what someone's life might be like with or without something, sort of like "Turn Left" from Doctor Who (or take a canon event and see what might've happened if something had changed (eg Data and Worf were unable to get to Locutus to bring him back to the E-D)).
Some challenges have been very specific and ended up with no interest from folk, providing an expansive near enough blank canvas might provide more ideas and inspiration for people to give it a go.
I’m feeling inspired.
Required word count/ count limit?
Right. I understand why someone would issue a "write what you want" challenge. What I meant was the issuer should be clear that that's the challenge from the outset. "With or without" is more specific than "write what you want," yet when someone upthread asked the meaning of "with or without," "write what you want" was the answer given. It's a mixed signal that requires proper clarification.
There isn't one. It can be as short or long as you want it to be.
The answer was "The theme is defined by the writer's imagination." which isn't the same as "write what you want". I took it to mean what @Bry_Sinclair explained, that it's up to one's imagination to make it more concrete.
So...with or without whatever we want?
Yeah, for example. That's certainly one way of looking at the theme. For what it's worth, I felt like the question in your first post in this thread - "with or without WHAT" - could be a great starting point for brain-storming the plot or theme of a story.
It really got me thinking about how to go on without someone important and continue to serve, or how much better an officer one might be with a dear one at one’s side. Thank you.
Here's my hat in the ring: "Enough for Now"
https://www.trekbbs.com/threads/november-december-challenge-entry-enough-for-now.309849/
https://www.trekbbs.com/threads/november-december-challenge-entry-enough-for-now.309849/
Also, I feel a core qualification for a story is that it be clearly prompted by the prompt. That you shouldn't just post any story with a justification that "Uh, Kirk went without a hat" tagged onto the end. It should be somewhat obvious how it ties into the prompt, even a vague one.
November/December Challenge: With or Without
A Real Bad Penny
Now, after all of this time, since you asked, I can tell you-I hated him. He came to the house. Everyone’s seen the footage, of course. Hell, they show it in history classes all over Earth. You wouldn’t even be here if they didn’t. I’ve seen and done a few things in my life but nothing to warrant attention if it weren’t for his visit. So, he came to the house to tell me that Mom was dead.
He must have known that the reporters would follow him. I know for a long time I thought he had come to see me just for the favorable press. He certainly knew they’d follow, with their hoverball cameras and their eye-cams. I do remember, he knelt in front of me even though he didn’t really need to. I was twelve and stood almost five feet tall at the time. Girls grow faster than boys for their age. He looked into my eyes and I can admit, now, that he had pain in his eyes. I don’t know if it was the pain of having to tell me about Mom, facing the family as it were, the difficulty of delivering the news in front of all those cameras or just a personal thing. I’ve read about him and checked the records available to the public. I think, now…, after all this time, I think it just tore him apart to lose a member of his crew. Back then-I hated him for telling me Mom was dead. He told me, and then he transported up to the Enterprise-B and he died. That’s why you’re interviewing me. I was one of the last to interact with him on a human level-and that’s what you want to hear about. It’s been a hundred years since his death-although I’ve heard rumors that may not be accurate.
You don’t know? Please, you’re one of the most famous reporters in the Alpha Quadrant. You know what I’m talking about. That thing with Ambassador Picard back when he was captain of the Enterprise. How ironic-his ship. We heard what leaked out of Starfleet’s old boy’s club. That he came back and helped once again, that he made things better even as he died, finally died. But he hasn’t, has he? He’s still alive in so many hearts across the cosmos you felt it necessary to come and talk to me. Just because I’m one of the last to see him alive. It’s the hundredth anniversary of his official death and you’re talking to someone who saw him for ten minutes a century ago. I’ve seen a lot. I was in San Francisco when the Breen attacked, I was there when the Borg came and killed my brother at Wolf 359, him and a lot of other good men and women, I stood with the first official time-travel team as they returned. All you care about is what I thought about him, though, right?
Fine. He was interesting. He affected my life for decades. I finally distanced myself and made a life of my own but he always lurked in the background. That moment, when he told me about Mom-there was pain in his eyes. You want to know what it looked like? Ok, fine, look into my eyes. I’ve lived one hundred and twelve years and the doctors say I won’t see one hundred and thirteen. I’m dying, and he was too. Not from an incurable disease like Garov’s Syndrome, but from ennui. He hated his life. It took me fifty years to realize that the pain in his eyes was from telling too many children Mommy or Daddy wasn’t coming home. Too many years of flying a desk. I can say that now. I’ve moved beyond. Soon, I’ll cross the Great Beyond. I’m at peace. But you know, these stupid interviews-it’s like he won’t go away. Even now, after a century, y’all are still badgering me. Read the logs, look at the historical holos, and examine the studied professor’s analysis. He is what you make of him. Personally, I wish he hadn’t come to me that day. I have to keep doing this and it’s like I’m reliving Mom’s death over and over for a century. Do you have any idea what that’s like? He visited for a few minutes. He left. He died. I went out and lived a full life. This repeated questioning is useless-he lived and you can judge him by the results. My perspective means nothing. I wish I’d never met him. He’s some kind of bad penny that just keeps cropping up. I think you need to leave now, my blood pressure is rising and my doctor says that’s not helping my situation. Good-bye.
A Real Bad Penny
Now, after all of this time, since you asked, I can tell you-I hated him. He came to the house. Everyone’s seen the footage, of course. Hell, they show it in history classes all over Earth. You wouldn’t even be here if they didn’t. I’ve seen and done a few things in my life but nothing to warrant attention if it weren’t for his visit. So, he came to the house to tell me that Mom was dead.
He must have known that the reporters would follow him. I know for a long time I thought he had come to see me just for the favorable press. He certainly knew they’d follow, with their hoverball cameras and their eye-cams. I do remember, he knelt in front of me even though he didn’t really need to. I was twelve and stood almost five feet tall at the time. Girls grow faster than boys for their age. He looked into my eyes and I can admit, now, that he had pain in his eyes. I don’t know if it was the pain of having to tell me about Mom, facing the family as it were, the difficulty of delivering the news in front of all those cameras or just a personal thing. I’ve read about him and checked the records available to the public. I think, now…, after all this time, I think it just tore him apart to lose a member of his crew. Back then-I hated him for telling me Mom was dead. He told me, and then he transported up to the Enterprise-B and he died. That’s why you’re interviewing me. I was one of the last to interact with him on a human level-and that’s what you want to hear about. It’s been a hundred years since his death-although I’ve heard rumors that may not be accurate.
You don’t know? Please, you’re one of the most famous reporters in the Alpha Quadrant. You know what I’m talking about. That thing with Ambassador Picard back when he was captain of the Enterprise. How ironic-his ship. We heard what leaked out of Starfleet’s old boy’s club. That he came back and helped once again, that he made things better even as he died, finally died. But he hasn’t, has he? He’s still alive in so many hearts across the cosmos you felt it necessary to come and talk to me. Just because I’m one of the last to see him alive. It’s the hundredth anniversary of his official death and you’re talking to someone who saw him for ten minutes a century ago. I’ve seen a lot. I was in San Francisco when the Breen attacked, I was there when the Borg came and killed my brother at Wolf 359, him and a lot of other good men and women, I stood with the first official time-travel team as they returned. All you care about is what I thought about him, though, right?
Fine. He was interesting. He affected my life for decades. I finally distanced myself and made a life of my own but he always lurked in the background. That moment, when he told me about Mom-there was pain in his eyes. You want to know what it looked like? Ok, fine, look into my eyes. I’ve lived one hundred and twelve years and the doctors say I won’t see one hundred and thirteen. I’m dying, and he was too. Not from an incurable disease like Garov’s Syndrome, but from ennui. He hated his life. It took me fifty years to realize that the pain in his eyes was from telling too many children Mommy or Daddy wasn’t coming home. Too many years of flying a desk. I can say that now. I’ve moved beyond. Soon, I’ll cross the Great Beyond. I’m at peace. But you know, these stupid interviews-it’s like he won’t go away. Even now, after a century, y’all are still badgering me. Read the logs, look at the historical holos, and examine the studied professor’s analysis. He is what you make of him. Personally, I wish he hadn’t come to me that day. I have to keep doing this and it’s like I’m reliving Mom’s death over and over for a century. Do you have any idea what that’s like? He visited for a few minutes. He left. He died. I went out and lived a full life. This repeated questioning is useless-he lived and you can judge him by the results. My perspective means nothing. I wish I’d never met him. He’s some kind of bad penny that just keeps cropping up. I think you need to leave now, my blood pressure is rising and my doctor says that’s not helping my situation. Good-bye.
Similar threads
