First up, a 2:1 consensus is still a consensus, so I've changed the doc. And actually, since it's Friday already, I'll be rolling it out onto the Wiki tonight. People are already using it, so that's not going to change anything - and I'll leave the table open for comments at the same address!
As to my 'sample'... well, for one, I object (StReNuOuSlY1!1) to the idea that you could swap in any two names. In fact, let's do it and see!
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"Department of Operations, Building Maintenance Division. Whaddaya want?"
Selene glanced at Dafydd, still leaning against the wall, and he nodded cheerfully. Taking a deep breath, Selene bent over the microphone.
"This is the Really Big Monkey Puzzle Tree," the vampire said, putting on her best breathy 'Flower' voice, and trying to give off a feel of being large, spikey, and wooden. "I require your assistance in-"
"Quit joking around," the voice from Building Maintenance said. "Do you need anything or not?"
"Er, no," Selene managed, dropping back into her normal voice. "Sorry. It... sorry." She hit the switch to cut the circuit, then turned and glared at her partner. "You knew that was going to happen."
"Oh, Selene," Dafydd said, grinning, "of course I did. I always know." He flicked his head slightly in the direction of the ceiling.
Selene looked up at the Generic Surface, and at the massive yellow-black stain that covered half of it. "Fine," she grumbled, "be like that. But have you got a better idea for getting it cleaned?"
"Always." Dafydd pushed off the wall and vanished into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a black towel. "There you go, get to work."
"... this is my towel."
"And it was your experiment," Dafydd said. "Come on, Selene, keep up."
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That would be wildly out of character for Selene (even though she fits into the same Junior Partner slot), and for Dafydd, too. Not just the situation as a whole - the words. You know, without even having to ask, how Selene would react to someone telling her to use her towel to clean the RC, and it ain't pretty. Narto, though, is submissive enough to potentially do it (though honestly, I suspect Lou will stop him before he actually ruins his towel).
More to the point, you say 'in the absence of any description'. I'm sure you're not suggesting that every writing sample - which are given in concert with a bio which contains a physical description - must state the colour of every character's hair and eyes, their general body shape, etc etc. But since there was a fair amount of movement in the story, can you clarify what you are suggesting? I'm a little lost.
But apart from all that... from what you're saying, I get the feeling you're wanting the writing samples to be complete stories - ie, you could come into them cold, with no supporting material, and 'get' them in their entirety. (Actually, that's not interpretation, is it? You said 'feels more like a complete, solid narrative') But... why? That means our requirement to get permission to write PPC stories is no longer 'you must be able to spell', but 'you must have written two complete stories set in the PPC universe which pass muster with your Permission Giver'. That's a very high bar to set for a universe we want people to write in - and to learn to improve their writing while writing in.
That was a lot of words (again!) so I'll close with a suggestion. How about we give the Control Prompt a high wordcount (500-1000), and an explicitly stated expectation that it be a complete story - ie, what people were doing anyway. But then we give the
random prompt a low count (300-500), and state that it's expected to be a snapshot - ie,
not a complete story. It's something that could be a scene in a mission or interlude, not a comprehensive story in itself.
That would mean our control prompts gave something like
this - Dafydd's introduction (which clocks in at around 600 words) - while the random prompts would be something more like
one partner apologises to the other:
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Dafydd wandered back to the response centre, meandering through the grey corridors, idly dreaming his dreams. Of course, as he was in no hurry to arrive at his destination, he was there within seconds. Opening the door, he stepped through and was greeted by the sight of someone he hadn’t seen in a long time.
Selene was slumped in the corner of the room, looking more tired than Dafydd had ever seen her before. Still, she was still glaring at him, and he did have a crossbow aimed at his head so she was obviously still mostly herself. Dafydd’s well-honed preservation instincts kicked in.
“I’msorryI’msorryI’msorrywhateverIdidIdidn’tmeantodoitpleasedon’tkillme!”
Selene raised an eyebrow at this performance and then put her crossbow down next to her, checking that the safety catch was on. Dafydd took this as a good sign and inched further into the room, Thanduril flapping forward to meet him. The two agents stared at each other before Selene broke the silence and said, “I’m sorry I shot at you. Thank you for the crossbow, anyway; it was a thoughtful gift.”
Dafydd relaxed a bit more. Remembering Vemi’s reaction to what he said he had done, he felt as if he should apologise again.
“I’m sorry for whatever I did wrong, I didn’t mean to do anything worthy of being shot at.”
Selene closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to regain her composure. The skills of self-control she had honed over centuries had been severely atrophied over the past month, and she did not want to lose those skills completely. She replied, “As a note for the future, if I come back from having a mutant plant lecture me on restraint and camaraderie, threaten me with even more probation, send me for counselling and group therapy, and
then reveal that my food has been drugged for at least six weeks, it’s not a good idea to say, ‘Oh, you got off lightly.’”
Dafydd winced, and was about to apologise again when he was cut off by the sound of a plot device masquerading as the console.
[BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]
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Taken from the opening of
Echoes of the Narbeleth, and clocking at around 350 words.
Thoughts? It would present two distinctly different challenges while not ramping up the word counts into 'well I'm not spending hours on
that' levels.
hS