The Ultimate Snowdogging Competition flies in the face of this concept, though. When you can choose to revisit any of the previous challenges, it becomes very difficult to form meaningful comparative and qualitative assessments. It's not just a matter of apples to oranges; sometimes, it's more like apples to battleships. Maybe that is the reason why I never announced a winner in the First Annual Ultimate Snowdogging Competition, or maybe there was another reason. I really don't remember.
In any case, as we consider the Second Annual Ultimate Snowdogging Competition, I'm really pleased by the range of entries, at the same time as I'm relieved that no one chose to use any of the more problematic challenges. The legendary Snowdog himself gets special kudos for suggesting this idea in the first place, and secondly for going all the way back to the beginning and pulling up Sedna 90377 one more time. Clever answer, my friend, and expressed in wonderfully succinct form. But isn't the Big Crunch supposed to begin on December 21, 2012?
Sedna 90377, by the way, happens to be one of my favorite sparkplugs for ideas. It features into a script treatment I wrote but could never sell, which subsequently became a novel proposal I pitched but could never sell, and ultimately became an on-spec novel I started but never finished. Good grief, though; March 8, 2005? Have I really been doing some variation on The Friday Challenge for that long? And has that novel really been back-burnered for that long? I really must get back to work on it and finish it, one of these days.
Next, as I work up the list in LIFO order: Henry, you gave me the creeps twice with "The Gift." First, when the unnamed narrator flicked the safety off and then stuffed a loaded and cocked handgun down the front of his pants—
Er, doing that often leads to what police pathologists call "explosive castration," and it's a lot more common than you might think. There have been cases—and of course, now that I want to cite one, I can't find one—of men being identified by the DNA evidence obtained from the testicle left at the scene of the crime.
Oh, never mind that. The story is technically slick but emotionally cold. The narrator can heal with a touch—or slaughter six men without a second thought? He and Jane have done this before, to the point where they have the drill all worked out and ready to go. Doesn't he feel something? Weariness, at least? It's pretty clear that he personally is never in any risk; he and Jane are in control the entire time. Doesn't he at least try to find another solution?
This one left me cold. Impressed with your technique, yes, but with something just this side of dislike for the narrator. Why does he go around healing if he also feels such contempt for other's lives? There's something missing here, although I can't quite put my finger on it.
Further discussion, anyone?
Continuing up the list, Al: "The First Rule" is very cute and too clever by half, but fortunately you've made it silly enough that no one could possibly take it seriously, therefore The Agency has decided that no punitive action is required this time. They did, however, ask me to remind you about what happened the last time you got a little too free with classified information. I believe their exact words were: "Nice camera you got there. It would be a shame if something happened to it."
Also, as I've said many times before, it's not a cybernetic implant, it's a mutant power. I'm a little touchy on that point, so try to keep it straight, okay?
Arisia: "The Fatal Cup of Coffee" also gave me a cold chill, but mostly because for some reason it got me thinking of The Twyford V.I.P.. Follow the link; read and shudder; and then tell me if that, coupled in a feedback loop with your foodbot, wouldn't be the most horribly intrusive health promotion system possible.
In general, I liked the story, although I was disappointed by the ending. You started off on an interesting tangent—
All of Martha's friends and relatives were now using foodbots. One by one, they had converted over, some eager for the easier lifestyle, some resisting as long as possible. But all of them got sick. She could see it, but they evidently could not.—but then swerved off into Twilight Zone ironic twist ending territory. I appreciate the humor of the punchline ending, but it's a let-down. I'd be far more interested in seeing you follow-up on and develop what apparently was your original intent.
Finally, Torainfor: All I can say about "LifeLine" is, Wow.
Okay, I can find a few nitpicks. For example, there's one scene where multiple characters are speaking and you get your attributions confused between Geoff and Ian, and another point where you confuse "sheer" and "shear," and I'm sure if I read it another time I'd find an embarrassing typo or something. But on the whole, this is a really well-imagined, fully developed story. I like the hierarchy: apprentices are even lower in the pecking order than sidekicks, and the sidekicks use it, even if they're morons. I like the opening scene, the development, and the conclusion. Things do get confusing at the end of the bank robbery scene: the business between the time he delivers the woman to the police officer and the time he collides with Crashcart could stand to be expanded and clarified. I also have a quibble with the end of that scene. I've had the experience of grabbing onto a potent electrical source; when that happens, there's no need to grit your teeth and hang on. In fact, you really don't have much choice in the matter, as all your muscles are locked in contractions no amount of will-power can break.
But never mind that. It's a really terrific, well-developed superhero origin story, and you've accomplished the rather remarkable task of coming up with what appears to be a truly original super-power. (On the other hand, Karen asks, "What happens to this guy if he gets near a Planned Parenthood clinic?" So perhaps there's a reason why an ability like this is thus far unused.) Ergo, Torainfor, you are hereby decreed the Winner of the Second Annual Ultimate Snowdogging Competition, and for your convenience we have arranged for you to pick up your crown at any convenient Burger King.
Oh yeah, there's also the matter of a prize. Well, you could either pick something from behind Door #3, or you could—heh heh heh—trust me. Let me know your decision.
And once again, thanks to everyone who participated, and thanks especially to Snowdog, for suggesting the idea and graciously giving this competition its name!
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