The Cocoon Effect

[Clarissa]

Okay, I have a contest. It's sort of an excercise to help writing, but with a prize! Yipee!

It's called the Cocoon Effect because it's turning something ordinary into something beautiful - catterpilar -> butterfly.

How it works:
You can enter a piece of writing, be it poetry or prose, that describes any ordinary object. The winner is the person who can turn this ordinary object into something extra-ordinary simply by describing it.
That was pretty badly explained but what I mean is you pick an ordinary object like a chair. Then you describe it and make it sound amazing eg the texture, the colour etc.
This is potentially quite hard, and I think prose would be easier to do, but if you're up for a challenge, give it a go.
This can be loosely interpreted, just stick with the main idea of ordinary -> extraordinary :)
PM me what you've written and I shall read and judge accordingly.

I shall be judging let's say 2 weeks from now (let me know if that's not enough) but I need at least 3 entries...
The winner shall receive the amazing prize of a free crit, an imaginary gold medal and the knowledge that they are awesome at writing....

So yah, get writing peoples!

[owl]

this sounds fun. I'm in for sure.

[Rose]

Count me in Clarissa, this sounds fun...
You want at least 3 posts:
3 things to be described,like for ex: first a chair
2nd post: bug
3rd post: pipes
Is that what you mean?

[Amour]

I think she means three entries?

[Clarissa]

Yeah I did mean three entries, not three objects, but feel free to do more than one entry :)

[Rouge]

Awesome, sign me up. :3

[KyleN]

I'm in! I'm working on it now.

[Clarissa]

I'm in! I'm working on it now.

And that is why I love you. Also because you're my singing in the shower buddy, but you are awesome :)

[Amour]

I shall work on this tonight. :)

[Rouge]

I'm practicing right now. May actually turn into my entry. :devious:

EDIT: Yeah, this is my submission. I'm kinda proud of myself, even if I won't win. :3

[Rose]

I'm in! I'm working on it now.

And that is why I love you. Also because you're my singing in the shower buddy, but you are awesome :)


How is it going singing in the shower gang?^_^ lol :P I love the name I gave us...I will start working on it...See ya later chatroom buddies.

[Majyk]

So, it's always good when people try to get contests going, which is why I'm going to try and get something written for this. Question, though: Is there a word limit or anything? Or can our submissions be as long or short as we want? (Because mine's looking pretty short right about now.)

[Clarissa]

So, it's always good when people try to get contests going, which is why I'm going to try and get something written for this. Question, though: Is there a word limit or anything? Or can our submissions be as long or short as we want? (Because mine's looking pretty short right about now.)

It's totally up to you. I will read and judge any and all :) Oh and you don't have to tell me what the object you're describing is. It makes it more interesting if I have to guess.

[Majyk]

All righty, then. Thanks!

[Clarissa]

No problem :) Thanks for bothering to enter something!

[Majyk]

People put effort into writing submissions and getting together a contest, so it's not really fair to them when not enough people submit.

I'll stop spamming now. :p

[Rouge]

People put effort into writing submissions and getting together a contest, so it's not really fair to them when not enough people submit.

Yeah, I've felt this burn before. :(

[Simmi]

Okay, I'm going to try this, no promises. I'll finally be free of a busy schedule next week or this weekend, I'll write somethin' up.

[Spacepirate]

I might do this. What's the prize :P

[Clarissa]

The prize is... Moi :) Kidding. The prize is a crit ticket, an imaginary gold medal and the assurance that you are a great writer :P It's not much, but it's all I have. Do it and I shall love you forever XD

[Lockmaker]

I might just throw my hat into the ring, it's intresting to say the least.

[Clarissa]

Right, this may seem like short notice, but y'all have 'til Monday (12th) to enter a piece. I've only had two entries so far, and I need at least one more to make it interesting.

Get a move on people :)

[Clarissa]

Okay, from the three entries I had, I have picked a winner.

*drumroll*

Majyk!! Round of applause please as I hand over the imaginary gold medal.

Her entry was:

Mirror reflecting light into the empty room, the dark wooden structure sat against one plain white wall. Its dark surface swirled and spiraled in the fading afternoon light that streamed in through the single, grime-covered window, unrecognizable patterns carved into the wood. Once, the designs might have been flowers, carefully drawn into the corners and the base, above the mirror, near the three drawers that lined the front of the rectangular structure. Now, they had faded. Time had left its mark, and the wood was worn and dull. Brass handles had once shone brilliantly, yet now they, too, were dull, fingerprints covering their surfaces. Clothes had once occupied the drawers, but they had long since been empty and hallow.

The last rays of sunlight disappeared, as did the glare reflecting off the dusty mirror. The wood faded into the dimness preceding total darkness, brass handles lingering longer until they finally disappeared, victims of the night, too. In the darkness, all that could be seen was a large shape against a white backdrop, no distinguishing features visible had anyone been in the room. Eventually, moonlight filtered through the grit that covered the windowpane, striking the mirror as the sunlight had done hours earlier. Features became somewhat perceptible: the lines indicating where each drawer started and ended, the swirling pattern carved into the dark wood, and the mirror, stationed above it all, its surface dusty, the entire piece of furniture forgotten.


The other two equally as brilliant entries are:

From Tsuki:


It sat there, nestled in a cocoon of some raffia that Mother had placed around it to look somewhat appealing. It wore its red like a jumpsuit, all snug. It was among its brothers, or some people would say brothers. It had a green spot, a stain on its perfect surface, and I desperately wanted to bite into it, to take away that mar on its perfection. Or maybe I should just turn it the other way, so no one could see it. That would make it beautiful again.

There, fixed. The green spot can’t show its ugly face any more. Now all that’s there is my beautiful little It. I like to call it It because I don’t know what It’s real name is. Mother hasn’t told me yet. Neither has my teacher. I think It is a good name for it. I like It, sitting there, in his red jumpsuit and skinny stick hat. It is quite charming, all snug in its raffia.

He’s so fat, too. Someday, I wish I could be as fat as It. He reminds me of my father, a rather rotund man. Many people refer to Father as “a whale of a man!” . But then again, I don’t think many people like my father… but why should they, when he has no feelings of affection for them, either?

Maybe It is not an “it.” Perhaps It could be a “he”. In fact, I think It shall be a “he” because I can make him whatever I want him to be. Sometimes I wish I had a basket like he does to lie in with my brothers and sisters snuggled in close with me. It would be the epitome of happiness, or at least for me it would.
No, in his case, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. In fact, I think that that is what he could be.

Oh dear, Mother is home. She walks over to me, smiling her big Cheshire smile, picks me up, and cradles me closely to her chest. She picks up my newest and dearest friend, It, and puts him in her mouth.

And I begin to cry.




And last, but in no way least, Simmi:

He could sing a song--
without a voice.

He could mesmerize a crowd--
with no expression.

He could grow--
with the turn of a knob.

He had only one leg--
that could easily be extended.

He had only four hairs--
and he was in his "teenage" years.

He had an hourglass figure--
which struck as odd to some.

He swelled with emotions
at a stroke of a hand--
at the strength of an arm.

At the touch of a bow.

Thanks to you three for entering, they were all great to read.

[Majyk]

Nice entries, guys (even if poetry usually escapes me). What did you two pick to write about?

[Simmi]

Congrazzles~

I wrote about a cello, albeit badly.

[Clarissa]

Simmi's is a cello, I'm pretty sure. And Tsuki's is an apple. :P

EDIT: Ah, you got there first. I used to play the cello. Dundundun....

[Simmi]

Haha, cellos are amazing. And music is my life.

[Majyk]

Ah, cool. Mine was a dresser.