Contest 4 }{ Midwinter Tales(Stories/Poetry/Art)

[ricci]

In the Pernese Canon that Anne McCaffrey left us as her legacy, there is no such thing as Christmas. Being an entire planet that is without religion, it is easy to understand why. However, some traditions die hard. Anne gave us a tale of midwinter gift-giving and reveling, the fact that Thread struggles to fall when the weather is so cold. Admittedly, this is the Southern hemisphere, so our midwinter is 6 months away from when most of Anne's characters were celebrating theirs. Technically six and a half, since Pern technically has 13 months in a turn, but that's a pain. >_> Anyways, all preface aside...

Welcome to the Two Part Midwinter Contest!

There are two parts to this Two Part contest (SHOCK, AWE, SURPRISE). A judged portion, and a non-judged portion. They are really two sides of the same coin, however, because you receive prizes for both of them (well, if you win the judged portion). You will be writing stories, haiku, poetry, ballads, anecdotes, anything you wish. Journal entries are welcome, as is art. But it must follow a theme.

Each entry submitted must somehow reference any one (or more) of the following: Midwinter, gift-giving, or the new year. Not too hard. You have a whole season and two holidays mashed together into one.

Please bear in mind that in the canon, Midwinter was celebrated for two sevendays, though I imagine the actual turnover day would be much more important than the rest.

Aaaand remember: There are different end dates for both parts of the contest. Please pay close attention!

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CONTEST PART 1 RULES:
1. You may enter as many projects as you like, but they MUST be completed in order to receive credit.
2. Haiku must follow with haiku rules. (Please see below.)
3. ..That is about it.

END DATE: January 9th, at 11:59pm.
PRIZES: (Unlimited)
Stories: 2 Marks per 100 Words (rounded to the nearest hundred; so 149 words would be treated as 100, while 150 would be treated as 200).
Poetry (Freeform; includes ballads): 2 Marks per 5 Lines
Haiku: 3 Marks per Haiku
Quatrain: 2 Marks per Quatrain
Triolet: 5 Marks per Triolet
Sonnet: 25 marks per sonnet (because they are damned hard, and I'll be impressed if someone writes one)
Other Styles of Poetry: Please ask!
Art (B&W Sketch): 5 Marks
Art (Color Sketch): 7 Marks
Art ("Final Draft" Art; color or B&W): 15 Marks
Poetry performed on YouTube: 200 Marks
Ballads with Musical Accompaniment on YouTube: 250 Marks

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CONTEST PART 2 RULES:
1. This contest will only be used if there are two or more entries in any one category (Stories, Poetry(etc), Art, YouTube Videos)
2. You may select only one of each of your entries of this section. That is, ONE story + ONE poem + ONE drawing + ONE YouTube video, but not TWO stories.
3. This section will be put up to be judged on

END DATE: Entries MUST be submitted by December 24th, at 11:59pm (Merry Christmas!)
Judging will be completed by December 29th, at 11:59pm (Happy New Year!)
PRIZES:
1 Small Midwinter Cracker
1 Randomized of the Following: 75% off Coupon for the Gather; Disallowed Impression; Pet Ticket (250 Mark value); 50% off Coupon for the Weyr Store

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Prize Logue

Name-
# Item(s): # Marks
Paid: #/# Marks as of DD/MM/YY

Dana-
1 Haiku - 5 marks
3 Haiku - 9 marks
Paid: 0/14 Marks as of 16/12/11
Note: Dana receives 5 marks for her first haiku, due to a prize change.

Ricci-
1 Story (669-->700) - 14 Marks
5 Haiku - 15 Marks
Paid: 0/29 Marks as of 03/12/11

[danaphantom]

Weyr Haikus
Chill sets through the air
Sparkling snow of High Reaches
Gifts to warm the heart

Tropical seasons
Sunny, toasty midwinter
Bring me to Ista!

Longest traditions
The Ancients' past remembered
Protected in Fort

The happiest time
More cheerful in Benden Weyr
Good wine, good laughter

Poem
A poem about Midwinter
Should be easy, right?
Jot down something easy
Rhyming out of sight

Something will go here soon
I'll think of something great
Here's a little placeholder
'Til I think of something neat

[ricci]

Table of Contents:
1. Story: "But Will we Have Presents, Mommy?" - Ansй's 6th Midwinter
2. Haiku: "S'rus' Midwinter Fires" - He's a closet creeper.
3. Triolet: "Untitled" - a French form of poetry with simple, but strict and difficult to achieve rules.
4. Triolet Triplet: "The Trader's Disdain" - a set of three triolets that are interwoven together to form a single poem. I...sorta think this one might deserve extra marks. <_<;;;

But Will we Have Presents, Mommy?
Word Count: 669

She's six turns old, and it is getting cold. She shivers as she rides astride her mother's runnerbeast, watching the cattle in the distance. The beast keeps her warm, as does the additional blankets wrapped around her shoulders. But she is not thinking about the cold. She is thinking about that myserious time of year that she knew was approaching, when her mother would give her gifts, when her father would slaughter a fattened calf and they would feast for days in the comfort of their tiny house. She is thinking of Deana, now heavy with puppies. She hopes that they'll be born before the big celebration, even if she does not know what the celebration is for.

She stares out over the snow-touched pasture. In this region, snow falls, but it falls sparingly, and the hardier grasses and weeds keep the cattle fed and healthy, but she knows that one calf is being fed strictly milk enriched with butter, and sweet grains. Every year, her father selects a calf. As far back as she can remember, for turns upon turns upon turns... Forever. She tries to seek out the calf, but she cannot find it. This year is the first year that she begins to wonder about the calf itself. Will it hurt, she wonders. She normally does not worry about such things, she normally sticks with the here and now, and she normally loves the meat of a fat calf, tender and sweet, especially when roasted and sliced thin in the stone and brick oven that her mother likes to use when they are home.

"Mommy," she asks, gazing out at the gray sky, the stark lifelessness of the trees bothering her down on ground-level. "When will we go home?"

"Very soon, Ansй. We take them to the Great Hill, then you and I will wait, just as we did last year, with our Midwinter calf. Your father will go into the Hold with our fattest heifers and our softest calves, and when he returns, we will have new blankets and suitable materials to help Deana with her pups," Ailurй responds. A patient woman, she answers every question Ansй poses her. She almost wishes Ansй would ask even more, but Ansй is a quiet child, more observant than inquisitive. No. That's not right. Ansй is merely inquisitive with her eyes, and she observes the answers she needs. Ailurй feels rather useless as a mother.

"Like last year?" Ansй finally asks after several moments of consideration. She remembers the feast, she remembers the warm smells of warm milk with orange zest and nutmeg and sweet brown sugar mixed in. She remembers something else, too. Before Ailurй has the opportunity to respond to Ansй, the girl carried on. "But will we have presents, Mommy? Like last year?"

At six turns of age, her fifth midwinter seems like it had been forever ago. But few things truly stick to a small child's mind like food and gifts. She notes the mild change in incline, going from nearly flat to slightly upward. The hill was beginning, even if it was not yet visually evident.

"Yes, Girl," Ailurй says with a chuckle. "We will have presents, and gifts. But best of all, we have eachother."

Ansй considers this for a moment. "Yes... that is a good thing. But we always have eachother, and we always will."

This axiom had held true for her life, every single day of it. Even when she was smaller and she and her mother did not join Mikaa on the journeys out to the world. But he always came home, and they were always together. This, she knew, would always be right. Her axiom, from which all other theorems of her life and her future arise.

Ailurй smiles, "I hope so, Ansй. I really do. But now, let us think of supper. We will purchase our food at the Hold, that we cannot produce ourselves. Does anything seem especially enticing to you?"

Ansй wonders on this, and answers eagerly, and the incline of the hill steepens.

S'rus' Midwinter Fires
Haiku Count: 5

1. The girls dance in snow;
Youthful, arrogant, serpents.
Midwinter beauties.

2. Tonight is too cold,
My hands tremble, my thoughts ache.
Cruel thoughts, a warm girl.

3. You, smiling, receiving.
Gifts beyond memories, joyous.
Give me what I want.

4. The lessons: postponed.
Brief sucrease, Gather draws near.
I need not watch them.

5. I see youth, lit soft,
The fire highlights my longings,
The fire highlights you.

Untitled Triolets
Triolets: 1

Information: A triolet is a French form of strict poetry with an ABaAabAB rhyme scheme, commonly written in iambic tetrameter. The 1st, 4th, and 7th lines are identical, as are the 2nd and 8th, making the first couplet and last couplet identical. A good example of a triolet creates a real "poem" in spite of these constraining rules.

1.
The dragon flies so far above
The wind surrounds, crackdust it blows
The Turn it makes it's final shove.
The dragon flies. So far above
The Gather and the dancing dove
The icestorm billows, icestorm grows.
The dragon flies: so far above
The wind surounds crackdust: it blows.

A Trader's Disdain
A Haiku Triplet

Snow and ice and winter gathers
I cannot bear these simple matters
With her makeup maiden slathers.
Snow and ice and... Winter gathers.
O'er long roads, it's cold, she rathers,
How her wheels the mud does smatters
Snow and ice and winter. Gathers:
I cannot bear these simple matters.

With her makeup maiden slathers
With her men to kiss and tether
Who's to say she loves no gathers
With their makeup maiden slathers?
It's been long a road, it's cold she rathers,
In spite complaint and cold weather
With her makeup maiden slathers
With her men to kiss and tether.

Who's to say she loves? No Gathers
With their riling dancing: madness!
And here she is, her makeup slathers...
Who's to say she loves no Gathers?
In the stalls she stalls and dithers,
As she claims the briskness, brashness
Who's to say she loves no Gathers,
With their riling dancing madness?