Thanks for playing! Your stories were fantastic, as always. If you missed any of them, check them out here. Otherwise, let's get on to the judging:
No little green men were harmed in the judging of this
week's Finish That Thought. But a lot of other things happened:
Clive Tern begins an ambitious attempt to bridge three
different writing contests with one overarching story. Though the names and
geography of this world are different, the familiar touches in the story bring
us into the world just as it begins to fall apart. By the end, the story
achieves some closure for the protagonist, yet still builds tension for the
upcoming conflict.
Lauren Greene goes and lets California be swallowed by the
ocean. I enjoyed the nonplussed reactions of most of the characters. Their
concerns are with landmarks, sports teams, wine, and Amazon (which thankfully
is safe and sound in Seattle). The husband cannot even be bothered to wake up,
and the cat provides the ultimate perspective by simply continuing to groom
herself.
Holly Geely's protagonist reaction to whole planets vanishing
seems tragically realistic. After all the news reports, conspiracy theories,
and the arrival of aliens, this protagonist cannot even name the
"astronomists" or their "radar thingy". The irony of the
title is that even though Mars is literally missing, we see in the downer
ending that the protagonist is actually missing Earth.
Michael Simko's narrator editorializes about everything:
poets, hippies, even his friends' names. (Not that I judge. Even though technically
I am the judge.) I enjoyed the asides and the overall casual nature of the
narration in what otherwise ought to be a horror story. As with all good horror
stories, this one doesn't show us too much of the monster.
Michael Seese gives the most straightforward description of
a fat cat I've read all night: "four-legged bag of trouble".
Likewise, the description of small-town life and its boredom might be
exaggerated, but only slightly. As alien invasions go, this is a fun romp with
a rare happy ending for both Earth and the invaders.
Nancy Chenier packs a lot of family backstory into the word
limit, without it feeling like an info-dump. We see three generations of a
family: a fantasy-prone but sensible kid, a hard-hearted dad who softens with
the unexpected return of a long-lost pet, and a grandfather whose tall tales
turn out not quite so tall.
Christy skewers cheesy investigation shows. The
investigative team here is so jaded by hoaxers that, when they ultimately
stumble into a real close encounter and get plenty of video evidence, they
still worry about how to make it look better in post-production.
MRMacrum gives us all six special challenge prompts, along
with a bizarre glimpse into an alternate universe with a tabby mayor and canine
sheriff unaware of the puns their existence has set up, victimized by an alien
with a device that allows him to steal chocolate cake interdimensionally.
Ian P's "The Aliens" is notably the only story
that played the prompt completely straight, with no modifications. Written in
the form of an eyewitness account of a puzzling encounter, it raises a very
important question: why was Donald Schmidt taking infrared photos of an
overweight tabby cat in the dark with his friends?
Special Challenge Champion: MRMacrum: You included all six
words into the story, and in ways integral to the story. Without the overweight
cat and dog sheriff, much of the wordplay would have been lost. The chocolate
cake sets up the mystery for the story, and the Mars-bound freight-riding alien
hobo is, somehow, its natural solution.
Grand Champion: Nancy Chenier. You developed each of the
characters and their backstories smoothly and naturally: the kid who enjoys
sci-fi and his grandpa's wild tales, the emotionally-distant divorced dad struggling
with an alcohol problem. Even the "sandbag of a cat" with the
"milky-way stripe down its belly" is beautifully described. For a
story about a cat returning from space, this was a surprisingly down-to-earth
and touching story of a family in need of healing.