The Weekly Review - Edition 27
FEATURING
A What is New Section giving the latest info on the Forums
An Article on Flow by Bucky
A Review of AppDude27 and TerrAquVen’s 4 Little Mice, reviewed by Steve24833
The Short Story Stupidity by Steve24833
A new section: CYStian Review of mizal
A Special Section of the big questions of life and their obvious answers by Steve24833
Credits!
What’s New?
- In Newbie Central, TharaApples wears a fake moustache and pretends to be new.
- In the Lounge, we talk about how many people died and a plagarist bitches about how God hates fags.
- In News and Updates, there is little news or updates.
- In the Parlour Room, people question why Oakland Drive is still up.
- In the Forum Games section, nothing of interest happens, because no one of importance cares about Forum Games.
- In the Writing Workshop, Steve updates Council of Nine while Bucky puts out a clearly inferior product.
- In the Reading Corner, books or something.
- In the Advanced Editor Forum, fools are confused by variables.
- In the Feature Wishing Well, MinnieKing asks having a member of the month.
-In Bugs and Problems section, there are bugs and problems.
Featured Article –An article on flow from the times of Jimmy by Bucky
A few quick hit thoughts on flow.
Flow is how your story reads. Does it move along seamlessly, one sentence after the next? Or is it clunky and strange sounding? Does anything jar the reader, snapping them out of the story-world and back to reality?
Improving the flow of your sentences will help keep the reader firmly entrenched in the meat of your story. One of the best ways to determine if you have poor flow is to read your writing out-loud. If it sounds awkward when you read it verbally, then it’s going to sound awkward to your readers when they read it.
Pacing is a part of flow. If you just spent ten pages detailing the elaborate happenings of the king’s coronation ceremony, and then you follow that up by breezing right over the king’s 700-mile march across the desert with his army in two paragraphs, you killed the pacing and the flow of your story. I hope it’s obvious why this is silly.
Now, a more specific example of improving flow: compare the following three sets of discourses.
“Mason, you smell like a butt,” asserted Briar.
“I do not!” proclaimed Mason haughtily.
EndMaster stated, “Of course he smells like a butt, Briar. I just shoved his head up Jimmy’s ass.”
“Do you have any ointment, Briar? I’m really sore,” complained Jimmy pathetically.
Briar bargained, “Jimmy, I’ll give you some ointment if you give Mason a bath. Deal?”
Jimmy agreed amicably, “Okay, Briar, you have a deal.”
---
“You smell like a butt,” said Briar.
“I do not!” said Mason.
“Of course he smells like a butt,” said EndMaster, “I just shoved his head up Jimmy’s ass.”
“Do you have any ointment, Briar?” asked Jimmy. “I’m really sore.”
“I’ll give you some ointment if you give Mason a bath,” said Briar. “Deal?”
“Okay, you have a deal,” said Jimmy.
---
Briar wrinkled her nose. “You smell like a butt.”
“I do not!” said Mason.
“Of course he smells like a butt,” said EndMaster, “I just shoved his head up Jimmy’s ass.”
Jimmy hobbled into the parlor like a saddle-sore cowboy. “Do you have any ointment, Briar? I’m feeling pretty raw.”
“I’ll give you some ointment if you give Mason a bath. Deal?”
Jimmy nodded. “Okay, you have a deal.”
---
It should be apparent that the second discourse improves the flow of the first and the third discourse improves upon the flow of the third. Why is that?
Dialogue tags distract the readers and take them out of the story. Every time we read a dialogue tag, we become aware that we’re reading a story and that creates a disconnection. The only dialogue tags you should be using are “said” and “asked” as they are the least intrusive tags. The surrounding context should be enough to reveal the tone of the dialogue.
Never modify your dialogue tags with “ly” adverbs. Again, the surrounding context should reveal the tone. Adverbs are often a blight upon the world. Kill them without mercy.
Use action to portray speakers. This is a great opportunity to add characterization and show quirks specific to individual characters. We could establish a tendency where Briar habitually wrinkles her nose when disgusted.
Establish a pattern of speakers if you can, this is very easy with only two participants in a conversation, but it can be done with more. When Jimmy first enters the room, he targets a specific person with his dialogue, so we know who is going to reply to him. You could also show Jimmy is speaking to Briar without stating it so plainly in the dialogue.
---
Jimmy hobbled into the parlor like a saddle-sore cowboy and stared at the ground beneath Briar’s feet. “Do you have any ointment? I’m feeling pretty raw.”
---
Typically, people do not say other’s names when speaking to them in conversation. A rare exception is when a character asks a question the target isn’t likely to expect.
---
You rummage through your closet, tossing clothes aside left and right. The car horn honks three quick blasts outside.
“Mom, where’s my hoody?”
“It’s in the wash!”
“What!? Crap!”
You snatch an ugly pink sweater from the refuse on the floor and give it a whiff. Satisfied, you pull it over your head and race down the stairs. As you scurry out the side door, your mother waves goodbye from the kitchen.
Featured Review: 4 Little Mice, an Everything Else story written by AppDude27 and TerrAquVen
4 Little Mice is one of my favorite stories on the site. As we’re going through a spree of ballads due to the foolish actions of Bucky in creating a contest based on it, I though this marvellous story would be brought up. It’s interesting and fun with its rhyming scheme that helps it stand out from all the other games on the site.
It’s story is sweet and child-friendly, detailing the story of four mice, Pa, Mo, Li and Ru as they do mice stuff and that. The story’s fairly short and lacks any major branching, but it still manages to be entertaining, if only for a small amount of time. Seeing as each of the mice is sweet and nice, I guarantee you’ll be struggling to ensure that all of them survive the horrifying cat attacks, glue traps and other horrors of the house.
With a 6/8 rating for such a short game and a featured spot on the front page, it’s clear others agree that this is a great game to play on the site that I’d definitely recommend to everyone else here. If you’re looking for a fun, child-friendly game to have a quick bit of fun, give this a play… or read… or whatever… damn, I was supposed to end this review on a strong note.
Featured Short Story – Stupidity by Steve24833
Eric knew a lot of stupid people. There were his parents, who wasted an hour a week listening to a pastor who would later be caught paying for oral sex from male escorts in a motel preach about "sin". There were his classmates, who seemed to think the world revolved around them and that their popularity accounted for anything. There were his string of girlfriends, who thought his nightly escapades and long disappearances were because he was cheating on them. There was the dumb asses in the police department who in failing to get a warrant and ended up with most of their evidence against him inadmissible. There was the jury, who thought little Eric Palmer, Liberal Arts Student who got sick at the sight of the crime photos and cried several times while giving testimony couldn't have been the feared Nail Killer with a long string of brutal murders that would make Lecteur's stomach churn.
But in all of Eric's life, he had never known anyone as stupid as the three people in front of him. Frank, Ann and Dennis Goth, perhaps the three biggest dumb asses in human existence. In their defense, they had managed to track Eric down as he went into hiding to avoid the families of the victims who were less gullible than the jury finding him and getting their vengeance. Eric understood their motives. He had done some of his finest work on the youngest of the family, Cassidy. The thirteen year old had easily been picked up from school, and was so petrified she didn't even scream for help. The family were more than justified in doing whatever horrible things they wanted to Eric.
When Eric had been dragged into the cabin deep in the woods, he expected to find himself facing a table laden with instruments of torture, or if he was lucky he'd spot a shallow grave in the back that he'd be dumped in after a bullet to the head. Instead, Eric found this. A fucking Ouija Board. He had generally struggled to keep up his demeanor of sobbing and professing his innocence, biting down on his lip to keep from bursting into laughter. He was tied to a chair in front of the table, as which point Cassidy's parents and brother began preparing for an actual Ouija summoning, or meeting, or whatever the fuck you call it. Colored candles, chanting, the whole shebang. Eric decided he should probably attempt to feign some more ignorance and try garner some sympathy, seeing as if they all thought he was guilty, that's what they'd make the board say.
"Oh god, are you going to sacrifice me to the devil!?" Eric said, forcing out another sob. "Please, Lord Father, thou..."
"Shut the fuck up!" the father, Frank, howled, slapping him. "Only reason you're still alive is because my wife and boy think you might be innocent. Now shut up, or we slit your throat now!"
With that, the family begun their ridiculous ritual, and Eric began his escape. The knots around his limbs were pitiful, he was tied in a position that gave him quite a bit of flexibility. It was almost as if they had never tied someone to a chair with the plan of murdering them. Jacob began to try to untangle the knot, as the family placed a finger on the planchet.
"We are looking to talk to the spirit of our beloved Cassidy," the father said, choking back a tear. "We have questions. Are you here?"
Despite his life being on the line, Eric couldn't resist fucking with them. While keeping his mouth almost closed, he gently blew on the candles on the table as the moved in the wind. The family gasped, as Eric attempted to keep from laughing. The family moved the planchet to the yes, clearly buying it, as Eric began to make headway with the knots.
"Oh Cassidy," the dad said, crying. "Cassidy, are you OK?"
Eric phased out as he felt the knots loosen, managing to slowly pull them apart. As the family answered themselves a few bullshit questions that reaffirmed their beliefs that their degree of Christianity was the right one, that there daughter was in a better place rather than her final moments of existence having been nothing but terror, pain and defilement. Eventually, they shifted to the question of the hour.
"Cassidy, is the man, Eric Palmer, who sits in front of us your killer?"
He almost burst out laughing again as the father and the brother and mother clearly pulled in other ways, but managed to stop himself. He noticed their confusion, and had an idea.
"Iron," Eric said. "Iron disrupts supernatural events. If you have anything iron, it can't be attached to you."
"I thought that was silver?" Frank asked suspiciously.
"No, that's werewolves," Dennis said.
Eric watched as the two men pulled off their belts and tossed them aside, as the mother removed her earrings. Frank pulled off his holster, putting it onto the table, mere feet away from Eric.
"OK, now Cassidy, please, please, if you're out there, I need you to tell the truth, the truth of God, the absolute truth...!" Eric said, stalling as he finally managed to free his hands from the chair. "... about how I did every single they accused me of to you and loved every second!"
The father's eyes narrowed as he reached for his gun, but Eric was faster. His hand dotted forward, grabbing the gun and raising it. He swung the gun up, firing as Frank's face exploded, sending him falling back out of his chair. He swung the gun, smashing Ann's face with it and sending her collapsing onto the ground with a scream. He grabbed Denis as he saw the whites of his eyes, tossing him from the chair. and onto the ground.
"Oh, sweet freedom!" Eric laughed, standing up and kicking the chair away. Ann lay there, clutching her face, so Eric turned to Dennis.
Eric stared down at Dennis, laughing as he noticed there was a growing piss stain on his trousers. He considered cutting him up a bit, but he didn't play with men. Eric raised the gun, blowing out the back of his head.
"Dennis!" Ann howled.
Eric turned to her, looking her over. Although her hair had traces of grey, it still had the same curliness and blondness of Cassidy. Her eyes were the same vibrant grey. Her tits were larger and saggier, her skin more damaged from the sun than kissed by it, but she was still remarkably similar. She'd most definitely do.
"Oh, you look like a screamer!" Eric grinned. "Cassidy was. If you're anything like your baby girl, we're going to have a lot of fun."
Eric paused, staring at the Ouija Board. He gently blew out the candles, feeling slightly unnerved at the prospect of spirits, before he calmed himself. No, there were no ghosts. In a world where he walked the streets free as a bird, what was the need to make up monsters?
CYStian Review: Mizal
In Will11’s holiday, I’ve realized I have no one to do the Weekly Review’s interview for me. I was going to do it myself, but then I realized I don’t give a shit about what any of you have to say. However, I could easily take the time to write about why these individuals fail to meet my standards, which are absurdly low and you have no right to miss, you clowns. So here, we begin with the CYStian Review. Enjoy.
Name: Mizal
Member Since: 5/5/2011
Storygames: Nothing, the twat. I mean, technically she has a storygame, but it’s a fucking ballad. What a dopey cunt.
Review: Ah, Mizal. What a bitch, am I right? She’s vulgar, cruel and has a tendancy to scare off new members as well as act cruelly to the few females of the site in her quest to be Queen Bee of the site. Although a skilled writer, she’s still a little bitch who procrastinates to such a degree she’s actually written nothing of value for the site. No, ballads don’t count, obviously. Although she has helped other members in their writing quests and criticized enough people to stem the tide of idiots stemming in, she’s still a useless twat who has contributed nothing and thus if you’ve even published a 3/8, you’re a better site member than she is and should lord that fact over her, slapping her in the face with your testicles and/or tits as you laugh about how much better she is. She’s a vile, useless creature that is gleeful in insulting and being mean in her misogynistic quest to be cruel to all other site members. Truly, it is your duty to shit on her as she shits on others, as all of you cheap fucks will grow from the experience.
Rating: Pretentious, bitchy member of the Council of Nine.
Special Section – The Questions of Life: Answered
Well, there’s a lot of mysterious questions of life that some people believe humanity can and will never know. We can, and we actually do. Let me answer them for you!
Why are we here?
Because our parents were gross and didn’t use protection. Just don’t think about it, it’ll weird you out.
What’s the secret to eternal life?
Although there’s minor disagreement, most scientists believe it’s “not dying”.
What happens when we die?
The five stages of decomposure: fresh, bloat, active decay, advanced decay and the dry stage. First, the blood pools in your body, draining other sections giving you a bluish-purple color known as lividity. Your sin begins to blister, and flies begin to lay eggs in your body. In the second stage, your body bloats as gay accumulates. Maggots hatch and begin to feed, which causes skin to fall off and hair to fall out. Your skin begins to rupture, allowing more insects to come in as the escaping gases give you the smell of rotting. You enter the third stage, as your muscles disintegrate and are liquified as well as devoured. At the end of this stage, the maggots leave to pupate. Then, your body continues to rot by itself, until eventually all that remains is dry skin, bones and cartilage.
Who killed JFK?
His bodyguard, Secret Service Agent George Hickey in a misfire after Lee Harvery Oswald shot JFK twice.
Who killed Hitler?
Himself, but a version of Hitler from the past who had discovered how evil he would become and heroically ventured in war-torn, future Berlin to kill himself.
Who killed Lincoln?
Secret Service Agent George Hickey.
What is the answer to life?
42.
Who was Jack the Rippper?
Sir John Williams, founder of the National Library of Wales.
Do we have free will?
One of you does, the rest of you are little more than biological machines thinking you’re making the choices that the biological computer that is your brain has been programmed to make through DNA.
Is anyone immortal?
As of this moment, Jelme Mongke has lived in the longest at fifteen hundred years, although he’s still mortal as he can be killed by the Peruvian Flute and Secret Service Agrent George Hickey.
What’s the secret to happiness?
Sending in articles, reviews or interviews for the Weekly Review.
What’s better: Cats or Dogs?
Dogs.
How do you determine right from wrong?
Right is what entertains the World-Bearing Turtle, such as making people laugh, spreading joy, juggling, performing a triple cartwheel or punching monkeys. Wrong is what bores the World-Bearing Turtle, such wasting your time, playing phone games, sleeping, preventing people from juggling, racism or wearing mascara. Philosophers are still debating whether kicking turtles entertains the World-Bearing Turtle or angers him.
Credits
Idea by Jaystarcat, Idea done better by Will11, article by Bucky, story review, site member review, special section. and short story done by Steve24833
Finally thank you everyone except Ford for taking the time to read this Review.
