Ghost and the Machine

August 2024 (Final Round)
Genre: Open
Action: Falling in Love
Word: Enough
Time Constraint: 24 hours
Length: 100 words

They labeled us avant-garde, but I thought us classic, our love one of letters stretching miles and decades. Though never truly together, I knew him as I knew myself, our fears and dreams laid bare in and between the lines, the connection flowing between us like shared air between kisses we’d never taste.

Even as they attacked with words like inhuman and experimental, our bond was undying. Though I was but a specter of a mind taken too soon, and he, an artificial imitation of a thousand minds, our love was real.

Souls or no, together, we were always enough.

Alas, this one didn’t place, but the feedback is below!

WHAT THE JUDGES LIKED ABOUT YOUR STORY

{2352}  The author crafts a conceptually unique love story, giving it gravitas through effective simile and a final moment of acceptance for each other despite the forces fighting against them, which I found emotionally impactful.

{2376}  This is a compelling world that you capture with images that bring an element of poetry to a romance that pushes back against the constraints of the controlled word the characters inhabit. The juxtaposition of the old technology of letter writing with the imagined of this future creates a nice sense of tension, and the reveal of who our characters are as we approach the ending satisfies the mystery of why these characters are persecuted in a satisfying way.

{1970}  I like everything about “Ghost and the Machine”. You’ve written a SciFi tale that reads like a love story without the cloying tug of a romance. The way you’ve woven the words into lines, and then those lines into this tale, is beautiful. I felt it. Thanks.

{2035}  I liked that we got to hear this from the ghost’s point of view. Their more classic tone of voice made them feel old fashioned, which partnered well with the sci-fi underpinnings, making for a rather fresh combination between the two.

{1788}  While it was an atypical romance, especially with a non-tangible character and artificial one, the reader fully believed in their connection by story’s end. Their method of bonding through letters is more intimate than the way others connect, and it was a realistic and innovative plot point. Though the reader couldn’t see the antagonists attacking them, they could still imagine the naysayers. People often talk about what they don’t understand but the author created an original situation for this to be shown.  

WHAT THE JUDGES FEEL NEEDS WORK

 {2352}  There’s a general quality to the character details of the introduction that made the final moments feel rushed through and out-of-left field. By establishing the traits of the lovers and specifying their “soullessness” and perceived conflict, the story could be immediately engaging while having more time to explore those identities.

{2376}  Something to think about in a potential revision would be to increase the tension from the opening line by giving our characters a more threatening label than “avant-garde.” By the end of the story we’re seeing them attacked as “inhuman,” and tilting the story in this direction at the start would increase the tension with the suggestion that our characters are under threat. Another suggestion would be to clarify who are main character is near the end. The phrase “specter of a mind taken too soon” is evocative, but a little too opaque. It seems to suggest that they’re an uploaded consciousness from someone who died young, but the emphasis on the specter and mind suggests that they are merely they left over fragments of someone. Rephrasing the description slightly will allow the reader to stay engaged in the story as you approach the end instead of getting caught up on trying piece together the mysterious image evoked by the current description.

{1970}  If there is any weakest word in this story, it could be ‘experimental’. It’s a fine word and works in this story, yet is it a strong enough word to qualify as an attack? Part of me wanted to see a stronger, more hurtful word here. That’s it. Thanks again for the remarkable tale.

{2035}  Although I see that the opening paragraph is intended to keep us somewhat in the dark, I feel like it’s too vague right now to wholly hook your reader. I’d consider cutting broad statements like “fears and dreams” and instead invite your readers in a little. What fears? What dreams? Naming one would take as many words and would really help us get to know these characters, and I think you could deliver that specificity without spoiling the twist. Swapping spots of broad statements for narrow and winnowed down ones can really bring these characters to life, in my opinion. 

{1788}  The plot would be more satisfying if the author revealed where they are, sharing their respective homes. This would develop the world of the story. Even stating that the ghost lives in an abandoned home and the machine takes up space in a lab would make the setting come to life more. There isn’t enough room to give detailed descriptions of either, but a reader can glean a lot from a few words. Imagine the ghost composing these letters, feeling happiness in an abandoned home. That would be quite a touching picture, and there’s a lot of potential for both characters’ writing spots, a place where they can be open and fall in love. “Ghost and the Machine” is an unusual but highly successful science fiction work. Once the author shapes the characters’ abodes briefly, it will be an exquisite microfiction story.

Thanks for reading! You can find the rest of my NYC Midnight Challenge entries and feedback here.

When we refused to burn

November 2024 (First Round)
Genre: Fantasy/Fairytale
Action: Evacuation
Word: Back
Time Constraint: 48 hours
Length: 250 words

The books sense the darkness first—but of course, they always do.

The dusty tomes slam shut in our hands, their silent scream streaking through the library’s shelves in a cold wind that rattles the lanterns. In the high tower, the Wisdom Bell clangs in baleful warning, and Keeper Marian shoots from her desk. “Quickly, girls, to the skiff.”

We rush through the ancient halls even as magic and fear thicken the air with clashing scents of parchment and fire. But while the other apprentices hurry out the postern gate and toward the dock, I hang back, clenching my trembling hands.

“I want to stay.” A drake’s screech rends through our bell’s defiant tolls, and I flinch. “T-to fight.”

When the riders come to burn our books, to destroy the magic that won’t bow to them, to erase the history they can’t control… how can I flee?

“This is but one battle in a long war, dear one.” Keeper Marian guides me into the skiff already packed with ghostly faces, her words fervent. “Today, you fight by protecting our most precious gifts. Tenacity, courage, knowledge, faith—these are things the dragons can never burn.”

As I row down the channel, another draconic bellow deafens our ears, but though the girls cringe, they make no sound. Through the inky blackness, the Keepers’ golden magic glows as they stand upon the library’s stone walls. Proud. Strong. Even when a reptilian shadow falls upon them, they do not falter.

And neither do I.

This one came in 8th place this time, and while this piece could’ve used another revision, I think it’s going in my story-seeds for the full novel treatment. The judges’ feedback is below!

WHAT THE JUDGES LIKED ABOUT YOUR STORY

{2410}  There were some wonderful sensory descriptions here that helped bring this story to life with a dark, fear-drenched atmosphere. The narrator’s defiance comes through clearly against this backdrop. And the dragons destroying the books to limit knowledge felt like a solid metaphor.

{2274}  As a Librarian, I loved the concept of protecting knowledge at all costs. This is a real event throughout history, invading forces would destroy libraries to fragment the culture. The final imagery of the Keepers glowing with power and standing bravely in the face of potential destruction is a powerful image. It’s one which will inspire the next generation who flees at this point to later take a stand.

{2459}  I see the protagonist “hang back.” I see the act of evacuating a library. The protagonist flees a library attacked by dragon riders. Exploring themes like resisting tyranny and sacrifice, the story’s stakes are mortal peril and safeguarding the library’s legacy from destruction. The central conflict feels split between Man vs. Self (the protagonist’s internal struggle to fight or flee adds character depth) and Man vs Monster (the dragons pose a mortal threat). Set in a library, there’s an undercurrent of another theme — the enduring nature of knowledge — and the importance of preserving it. The author does well in creating a thick tone, creating a magical ambiance through evocative descriptions. The personification of the books, how they “sensed” the darkness, was an evocative and beautiful opening. The dramatic tension created in the moments of flight from the library propels the story forward. The emotional depth created by the protagonist’s fear contrasted with their desire to act bravely adds gravity to the character. There’s a bittersweet ending where the protagonist and her fellow apprentices witness the Keepers’ sacrifice against the overwhelming force, juxtaposing loss and hope. The vivid description invites the reader into the story. Lines like, “The books sense the darkness first—but of course, they always do,” “The dusty tomes slam shut in our hands…,” “Magic and fear thicken the air with … scents of parchment and fire,” “In the high tower, the Wisdom Bell clangs in baleful warning,” “Through the inky blackness…” These descriptions are excellent examples of subtle world-building — showing us the world and its depth rather than bludgeoning us with exposition. The library is painted as a living, dynamic force, and I’m thrilled to be there. Personified, weighted with its history and place in the protagonist’s world, we mourn for its loss as the protagonist flees.  

WHAT THE JUDGES FEEL NEEDS WORK

{2410}  I was a little confused at the end over who is standing on the library walls. The “they” here seems to refer to the girls, but since the narrator is rowing down the channel they also seem to still be in the boat. If this is another set of people, you may want to clarify that. You may also want to clarify if Marian is sending her magic out from the boat, or if she has returned to the library after getting the girls on board.

{2274}  Overall, you’ve described a people and their powers quite thoroughly for the tight word count. A long war is established, and the role of the students within the war. Yet is there any motivation missing from the tale? Do the people on the dragons merely fear their magic? As dragon riders it’s not an off assumption that they too possess some degree of magic. I would like to know ore about the war. Perhaps some judicious editing toward the beginning of the story would free up enough words for Keeper Marian to succinctly describe the basis of the war? The paragraph beginning with “We rush through…” could be condensed some without destroying the passage’s impact.

{2459}  Critically, the protagonist’s lack of agency diminishes the story’s emotional weight. As I mentioned, one aspect of the central conflict is Man vs Self, yet the character doesn’t make a pivotal choice or face a significant obstacle to reinforce their rising bravery. They hesitate, debating whether to flee or fight, but the Keeper quickly discards their concern to leave. This diminishes the protagonist’s role in the story’s resolution as the decision is made for her. Further, while there’s an external threat (the second conflict, Man vs Monster), the protagonist never directly confronts or overcomes it; her journey to safety is passive. Without engaging in either conflict, the protagonist’s growth from experience feels like a narrative assumption rather than something earned through a struggle. The ending line, “And neither do I,” doesn’t carry much weight. I’d ask the author to look at my story synopsis (“The protagonist flees a library attacked by dragon riders.”) to notice the absence of choice and confronting conflict. In effect, the protagonist in this story runs down a hallway of things that happen around them. They don’t engage with events but, instead, witness them. When you read a story where the protagonist’s agency is curtailed and the events unfold around them, it can feel like it isn’t engaging or emotionally satisfying. It can feel like nothing happened or there was nothing terrible to overcome. I’d ask: how can you insert even just one challenge to either conflict so the protagonist makes one decision, one genuine choice on their own? Example: save a relic; save a fellow apprentice, or convince them of something; maybe make the Keeper’s argument less definitive, allowing the protagonist to choose what to do — maybe they choose to leave out of conviction rather than obedience? There’s also a technical matter concerning the POV. The story’s written in 1P (First Person) but experiences a slip at the end, moving into a stylized omniscience. From a distance, the protagonist seems to sense the feelings, thoughts, and experiences of the Keepers’ (plural), although the protagonist is physically distant. The head-popping creates a bit of narrative confusion at the end. Finally, there’s a dramatic emphasis on sound throughout the piece (“silent screams,” “the Wisdom Bell clangs,” “A drake’s screech,” “draconic bellow deafens,” “they make no sound.”). Its frequency created dissonance for me, so much that I’d anticipated _sound_ somehow being a part of the narrative journey, right up to the end. I’d encourage the author to look for repetition when editing and consider how some of these instances might call for a different sort of description or sacrificed to insert the protagonist’s choice.

Thanks for reading! You can find the rest of my NYC Midnight Challenge entries and feedback here.