Poll: Theme for May 2023

[Rubber Soul]

Okay gang. Here are the nominees (Thank you, robhr) for the May contest. Since we only have three nominees this time, you can vote for only one. Poll will stay up until next Saturday, April 22.

So, are you ready?

PS- also need two judges for May.

[Trollheart]

Should not the title say "Poll for MAY 2023"?

[Rubber Soul]

Yeah, how do you change titles?

[Trollheart]

Sorted...

[Rubber Soul]

Anyone else want to vote on the poll? Also, I need two judges or I will become an overpowering god. 

[Lexi Darling]

To be honest and blunt, if mourning wins I'm not sure if I'm gonna want to participate. I've been dealing with a lot of downer stuff in my personal life and I'm not sure if I can find it in me to write about dark subjects right now.

I don't mean to try to sway any votes, just giving a heads up in advance.

[Rubber Soul]

Sorry, Mrs. Waffles (like the new name) but mourning/loss seems to have hit a nerve with the majority of the voters.

So, the theme for May will be mourning/loss.

And now for some judges...

[Trollheart]

I don't think I have the time to devote to the judging this time, so I will recuse myself if that's ok.
And if it isn't ok, I will recuse myself.
Sorry; I'll be lucky to get the time to write a story, never mind judge all the others.

[Trollheart]

FYI Mrs. Waffles (absolutely love the new name by the way) you could always write a story where mourning is defeated, or about a place where mourning is not known. Or even someone mistaking the spelling and writing about morning instead. Just ideas.

[Lexi Darling]

FYI Mrs. Waffles (absolutely love the new name by the way) you could always write a story where mourning is defeated, or about a place where mourning is not known. Or even someone mistaking the spelling and writing about morning instead. Just ideas.

Thank you for the suggestions! I will think about it.

And thanks! I like the new name a lot too. I chose to focus on synths originally because The Other Site was a music forum, but this name feels a bit more fitting to what I'm all about.

[Rubber Soul]

I wouldn't go with "Morning" as that would insult the meaning of the theme (don't forget you're being judged on this) but Troll is right; you can use mourning in a lot of ways that might not be so depressing.

[Trollheart]

I'm not saying use morning as the theme; I'm saying for instance have a story about kids asked to write about mourning and misinterpeting it: I like morning cos the sun shines and I feel happy etc. Simple mistake, easy out.

Nobody's insulting your theme.
Oh no wait I am: your theme is fat and lazy and couldn't get a job if its life depended on it.
There.

[Trollheart]

Here's an example.
This is NOT for the competition: I'm literally writing this live right now.
It's also shite, but it just shows what you can do without having to have a sad story. I haven't bothered checking word count; again as I say, just an example.

JUST ANOTHER MOURNING HERE

"So you don't mourn your dead?"
Captain Foster faced the Yaphilite, the galactic translator making the otherwise meaningless sounds understandable to each of the two races. The Yaphiite shrugged its slim shoulders.
"Why should we?"
A frown creased Foster's face.
"Don't you miss them when they die?" she asked, trying not to sound judgemental. First Contact was always a time riddled with the potential for misundestandings, unintentional insults and (she shuddered at the memory) sometimes war.
The Yaphilite, who looked, through some amazing quirk of fate, as did every one of its race, exactly like Taylor Swift, smiled. It was, thought Foster, a nice smile.
"Well of course we do, Captain Fister." A slight annoyance chased itself across its smooth features. "Are you saying we don't value our dead?"
"Foster," said the captain automatically. This was not the first time the Yaphilite had got her name wrong, an error that she blamed on the galactic translator, but which she knew would have humorous implications back home.
"What?"
"Foster," she said again, speaking more clearly, as if somehow that would help the GT work better, which she knew it would not. "My name is Foster. Not Fister."
The Yaphilite, whose name seemed to translate to something approximating Clean White Boots, and who, as a consequence, Jen had decided to call Boots, looked annoyed again.
"That's what I said," it grumped. She decided to let it go. Wasn't that important anyway. Certainly not worth risking starting this relationship off on a sour note. One slip was all it took. Captain Deneuve had learned that, to his cost. And the lives of three hundred million Terrans.
"Anyway," she said, returning to the subject at hand, "of course you miss your people when they die. I just don't understand why you don't mourn them."
Boots shrugged. "Why should we do that?"
Foster was lost for words; she had no reply. And so Boots went on.
"Let me ask you this," it said. "When they were alive, did you have affection for those you now mourn?"
Jen nodded. "Of course."
"Did they contribute to your life?"
"Yes, they did."
"And was your life better for the part they played in it?"
"Yes."
"Then why," asked Boots, with what seemed genuine confusion, "do you choose to focus on the negative, the fact they are gone, instead of all the positive things they did when alive?"
Again, Jen Foster had no answer. She was beginning to wonder if these Nepholites - no, Yaphilites, get it right - if they were more intelligent than she had been led to believe. For a moment, she allowed her mind to wander, and consider how a world where everyone looked exactly like Taylor Swift could have no concept of what music was.
Then she thought, actually it makes perfect sense.
"Do you mourn your youth?" Boots was talking again.
"What?" Jen found her train of thought derailed, in fact she had been flung from it onto the tracks and now watched it vanish into the distance.
"Your youth," replied the Yaphilite patiently. "Do you mourn it?"
"Well," Foster thought, "I guess some do. But in general, no. It's gone, and there's no point in trying to wish it back."
Boots nodded. "And those you loved are gone, and cannot be brought back, correct?"
"Uh, yeah." She thought she saw where Boots was going.
"So what purpose does mourning serve," asked the Yaphilite, "if it cannot change the outcome? Is it not just wasted energy?"
A little defiantly, Foster replied, "The dead need to be remembered."
"Of course." Boots rose, the short audience coming to an end. "But they do not need to be mourned. Your memories are enough. The dead do not need your tears."

As the Yaphilite leader made his way back to the court, he found a great sadness coming over him. He had hoped these - what did they call themselves again? OOmans? - he had hoped they would have been more intelligent, that he could welcome them as part of the galactic brotherhood.
He shook his head, long brown hair swinging from side to side like twin pendulums.
It was unfortunate, but there it was.
They were just too immature.

[Rubber Soul]

I still need two judges. The contest starts on Monday.

[Rubber Soul]

Just two more days before the May contest kicks off. I'm still the only judge so you should know I'm very fond of flying cows.

Or two (or even one person) can volunteer to be a judge and save the world from essays about dead flying cows.