Cederak

@TNTOS: Thanks for reading. This story is the chronological beginning of the miniseries, and it's those last few lines that really allow it to take flight as a piece of the Crystal Chronicles collection. Without that event, without the promise of hope on the horizon, Garrett's life seems very unimportant. But indeed, he unwittingly sets in motion many events that will change his universe and others as well. @Nuile: You really took to heart all of those things I wanted the reader to feel and understand and experience. That reminds me I'm doing my job correctly. Romance isn't something I work with often and, I think I've been putting off a story like this for quite some time. Also, playing Walnut Tree in the background as I read it for myself added to the sort of melancholy mood Garrett cannot escape for the entire story. I would assume he goes on to live a normal life, ignorant of his very special teardrop and maybe, just maybe, he finds a love worth holding on to. This isn't a story that easily lends itself to a sequel, so I can keep that little bit of hope to myself. Thanks for reading. @Aderia: Hey, fan mail! Dear Ms. Aderia, Thank you for another wonderful letter! I will assure you, not a single piece of fan mail has arrived on my desk that outshines yours. I imagine correspondence will be infrequent in the coming months while I'm working from a mobile desk. Perhaps you'll have time to write and I'll send you a letter about it… It's interesting. Valerie is a combination of a lot of the worst sorts of people I've known in my brief life, and she plays her part so perfectly. Having met and chatted with the handful of women I based her on, I can safely say Valerie as a character felt easy to work with by comparison. I don't know why people like Valerie are out there, ruining the lives of others, but they are, and that makes me sad. So tread carefully, Aderia, they can be very…persuasive. I'll admit, Little Broken Words is a sad note to end on, but it's really not the end at all. There is so much ahead of the Crystal Core beyond forming into a liquid memory that becomes something even more amazing. So too, there is so much ahead for all of us – only now, like Garrett, we must go out and discover what it is. I'm glad Walnut Tree painted a picture for you as you read, it's such a short song of so few lyrics, but I couldn't think of anything more appropriate. You may be jealous to learn I wrote this letter in a single draft, but I value your candor about trying to write a response that felt acceptable. Better late than never suits me nicely as well and, I have a surprise for you. In light of all your assistance in the past several months and spending so much behind-the-scenes time as my editor, I thought to put together a little gift for you. As you read this, an envelope is en route to your address containing a printed copy of each Crystal Chronicles story, including handwritten commentary for each story that sheds some light on parts of these stories I may have glossed over or downplayed, and explains some of the motivation regarding each piece. I cannot thank you enough for how much of my work you've read and revised, and I thought this would be a thoughtful token of my appreciation. I hope you like it and I happily await our next exchange. Yours Sincerely, Cederak

I have reviewed Ether by Nuile: The Wiseguy. Requesting a review for Little Broken Words by Cederak.

I appreciate the inadvertent dedication to me in your introduction; it's a nice gesture on your part. Anyway, let's get this Review Pass moving, yeah? I've heard of one-sided conversations before, but you really took it to another level entirely in this piece. You painted a very vivid, beautiful picture of the night, employing your usual degree of descriptiveness. It paid off here in a relatively brief story, because I still like a strong sense of setting even when the subjects turn as heavy as time and space. I don't have any negative criticism to offer on this one, which is why this review is going to be rather brief. I read it, I read it again, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Your "love conquers all" message came across loud and clear, really capturing the depth of the lead's affection for his wife, half the world away. Your title struck me as a fine word choice (I prefer aether, but it's an arbitrary decision) and I like how reflective the tone of the conversation became. A man alone with the stars and the thoughts of his wife, which are more than mere thoughts, and I think the ambiguity there adds to the appeal of why I enjoyed this story. I couldn't be sure whether the connection of love went beyond metaphor or not, but with all that talk of the ether, I like to think there was more to it and the reader was listening to one end of a sort of phone call. Anyway, nicely written story, Nuile. -Ced

I'm going to be away for most of this year, and I took a moment to finish my Crystal Chronicles mini-series with this piece. Romance, tragedy, and a songfic all in one, this is my last planned story for a long time. An explanation to the Crystal Core's origin and a stark tale of a broken relationship, I present to you "Little Broken Words," with the lyrics of "Walnut Tree" by Keane and a title inspired by their work as well. -Ced Little Broken Words A mighty walnut tree stood before a tiny pond in late autumn, separated by a hill of grass and a very old wooden bench. On that ancient bench sat a young man of twenty four by the name of Garrett. Garrett had visited before, often alone, and the calm wind seemed to sing of his return. He made his way down the hill and stared into the still water, the pond he had known since childhood. It stared back, reflecting his bright, cerulean eyes and a sea of memories. As Garrett gently pushed his messy, jet black hair from his forehead, one of those memories swam to the surface of his mind. Once, there was a great storm Pushed my head beneath the waves I was gone Garrett pressed a kiss to Valerie's lips, retreating and slowly opening his eyes, reveling in her beauty. Her wavy, raven hair and sea foam eyes were absolutely stunning and Garrett couldn't help but kiss her again. Valerie playfully pushed him away, giggling as she did. "Why do you do that?" she asked. "You know I have to get going." "I like kissing you. I like everything about you." "So I've heard," Valerie replied casually. Garrett frowned. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but he considered how forced it might come out. She hadn't said those words to him in weeks—not in person, calls, or texts—and Garrett could tell something was wrong. He forced a smile and held her head in his hands. "I'll see you at dinner tonight?" "6:30," Valerie said mechanically. "I'll be there." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and fetched her purse near the bedroom door, heading on her way. Garrett remained there for several minutes, sitting on his knees as he rocked back and forth atop his mattress. He had tried to have the conversation with Valerie before, to ask what was going on with her. She gave him nothing, but Garrett was a bright man. Every time she inched away from a kiss, avoided his eyes, made a remark about how he might love her too much, it put a strain on his emotions. Taking a deep sigh, Garrett could feel his eyes growing warm, angry tears welling up inside. His chest felt tight and painful and a familiar sense of depression and loneliness welled up within him. Valerie had been affecting him like this for some time now, but Garrett feared to address their problems. Most of all, he feared losing her. And so he said nothing. Garrett arrived at the restaurant around 6:15, taking his seat alone and having a sip of water. Dressed in a button-down shirt with a tie, his hair combed neatly to one side, he looked very handsome. Reaching into his pocket, Garrett clutched an engagement ring case in his hand, carefully turning it over as he waited. The minutes passed like hours and Garrett felt his impatience growing, taking another sip of his water before pulling out his phone. The time read 6:53 and Garrett lowered his head a bit. It wouldn't be the first time Valerie had failed to arrive for a dinner date, but this one was different. This one had an importance of its own. He went through the standard procedure of being stood up, stalling for time with the waiter, occasionally asking for a refill of water, and trying to avoid the stares of other guests that seemed to scream, "I feel so bad for him. Look at that, his date couldn't even be bothered to show up. What a sad life." It was 8:01 when Garrett couldn't take it anymore. He felt his hand shaking as he pulled up the options for Valerie on his phone's contact list. He could call her, text her, add an attachment, or delete her information. How simple it would be to delete her from his phone and move on. It was also impossibly difficult. Garrett had attempted to remove Valerie from his life the way it seemed she was doing now. Unlike Garrett, however, Valerie always found a way back in, always had those special words mixed with the most careful behavior to secure her place in his life. He could not be done with her so easily, and so Garrett opted to text her, saying, "Going home. Guess you're busy tonight. Love you." Underneath the walnut tree Where you said you'd wait for me And I waited, a long, long time Garrett let the memory fade back into the obscurity of his brief life, a moment in time from four years prior. And then it washed ashore again, fighting to remind Garrett of his own reality. He had come to the pond to let go, and so he did, releasing those thoughts into the forefront of his mind. Garrett remembered returning to the parking lot on that dreary, winter evening, his car running through three attempts before it would start. As he headed home, a feeling of suspicion and concern overtook him. Before he knew what he was doing, his car was exiting the highway toward Valerie's house, a matter of minutes separating him from her door. The road was dark and lonely, the occasional street lamp illuminating a small section of asphalt. On approach, Garrett could see the outline of an unfamiliar vehicle outside Valerie's home, parked in front of her car. He parked his own vehicle next to it, studying the dark crimson finish before leaving the car. Garrett fumbled for the key to Valerie's house, closing his car door with his foot. Able to discern it from the distant porch light above Valerie's front door, Garrett held it apart from the rest of his keys and marched up to the entrance, placing the key in and turning it quickly. The door opened with a soft sound and Garrett stepped inside. Flipping on the light, he set his shoes on the mat and rapidly blinked his eyes, adjusting to the fluorescent glow. Around the corner, a man slightly taller than Garrett nearly ran right into him, stumbling back in surprise and nearly releasing a yell. Garrett stared at him, frozen. The man wore a leather jacket and appeared to have put off shaving for a few days, possessing a ruggedness that existed in stark contrast to Garrett's clean-cut style. "Hi," he whispered to Garrett, still a bit shaken. "Who are you?" "Garrett. I was just…um…I was. Who are you?" "Derek," the man replied. "Valerie didn't say she was expecting company." Garrett raised an eyebrow at his remark. "Comes with giving your boyfriend a house key, I suppose." Derek looked down into Garrett's hand, staring at the key set aside from the others. In an instant, he turned his head back up and punched Garrett across the face. Garrett felt himself stumble backward before smacking against the refrigerator, falling in a slump before it. Derek scooped him back up and held him by the shirt collar, giving him a punch to the jaw this time. Garrett felt his head spinning, the sight of little blips in his vision often referred to as "stars." "What're you doing down here?" Valerie entered the kitchen and immediately took stock of the situation, running at Derek before grabbing his arm, trying to pull him away from Garrett. "Do you want to explain what's going on here, babe?" Valerie gave Derek a guilty look, turning to Garrett for a moment. She wrapped her arms around Derek and whispered something to him that Garrett couldn't hear. He couldn't imagine what it might've been, but it was enough to keep him from throwing another punch. Derek stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the front door before the engine of his crimson vehicle roared to life. Garrett listened to the sound of a car peeling out over loose gravel and Derek drove off into the night. Garrett looked at Valerie, admiring her flowing, violet nightgown before studying her eyes. The amazing green that lived within them was alive with emotion and Valerie said nothing for a short eternity. Finally, she bent down next to Garrett and kissed his forehead. "I'm so sorry, baby, I really am." "I can't believe this," Garrett muttered, heartbroken. "I can't believe you, of all people, would do something like this to me." "Garrett, please listen," Valerie pleaded. "Derek is just some guy-" "Really?" Garrett released a bitter chuckle. "Just some guy? Valerie, I trusted you and I loved you and…why would you do this to me?" "I don't know," Valerie said flatly. Garrett felt the angry tears coming on again and finally let everything out, sobbing on the kitchen floor as months of insecurity, inadequacy, and anxiety all poured out of him. He held his face in his hands while Valerie gently patted him on the back a few times. "I told you, Derek meant nothing to me. It was just…a thing. It wasn't that big of a deal." "You must be joking," Garrett cried, sniffling on the floor. "I'm really not." Valerie's tone had become irritated. "This won't happen again, so you should probably get over it." "That's a lot easier to say than do." Valerie kissed Garrett's head a few times, running a hand up and down his back. "Garrett, I know you love me. Don't make a reckless mistake over this little incident. I wasn't feeling like dinner and…then Derek called me up and…things just led to other things and I found myself here." "I hate you." "You don't mean that." Garrett sighed, revealing the cerulean eyes that had turned puffy and red. All the signs were telling Garrett his girlfriend had just cheated on him, but he could tell she had already won him back, barely lifting a finger to do so. Valerie treated him so badly at times and this was par for the course, really. He looked at her, amazed by the beauty that was so impossible to leave. "You're right. And that's why my heart feels like dying." "Let's draw back on the melodrama a bit, honey," Valerie replied. "I had a guest; no one has a terminal illness or anything." Garrett rose to his feet and gulped hard, trying not to cry again as he held Valerie around her shoulders. She hugged him and brought him in close, pressing kisses to his neck as he stood there, feeling nothing but dejected. "I love you so much," Garrett whispered, "I'm just scared of losing you." "Then let's put this behind us. We never have to talk about it again, all right?" Garrett nodded his head against Valerie's shoulder, wiping his eyes. "Okay. We'll move on." I waited a long, long time I waited a long, long time I waited a long, long time I waited a long, long time Garrett picked up a golden, reddish leaf and turned it over a few times. He glanced back up at the hill, toward the walnut tree that stood nearly bare as fall came to a close. He pulled an engagement ring case from his pocket and brought it up to eye-level. It was a trinket he had carried for four years now, a constant reminder of a woman who was once very important to him. He flicked the case open and shut a few times, comforted by the soft pop it would make when he exposed the inner pedestal—a throne where a diamond ring was meant to sit. Garrett could never bring himself to part with it. The case was perfect and wrapped in dark velvet; all it lacked was a ring. That circular treasure was long gone, so unexpectedly. Garrett lowered the case when a single teardrop trickled down his cheek, dangling from the edge of his chin before dropping into the ring case. Garrett hadn't noticed. Standing there alone by the pond, on the outskirts of the quiet, woodland realm, he shut the case one final time. Garrett spun back then, and hurled the case away, sending it out into the pond where it sunk unceremoniously to the very bottom. Garrett watched the ripples on the water, satisfied. He turned and began making his way up the hill, toward the walnut tree and the lonely bench. Sunset would come soon and it was time to go. Why, why do I come here? Seeking out the memories I hold dear 'Cause you put your spell on me Made me live in memory And I'm frozen, in just the wrong time Garrett stood over Valerie's body, a sick feeling in his stomach as he stared into her open casket. She had reluctantly agreed to marry him a week prior, and then…this. It stung enough to have found a sales slip that revealed Valerie sold the ring, but that was the least of Garrett's concerns. There was so much he wished he could ask her. Why had she been drinking so much the night she died? Where was she going? Why didn't she ask someone to just drive her home? Garrett extended a hand toward her face, pausing before he touched her. Valerie was pale and still, unable to hurt him ever again. It took her own poor judgment to release Garrett from her control, to provide him an opportunity to move on. "I really did love you, you know," Garrett whispered. "And I'm sorry things ended like this. Wherever you are…whatever you're doing…please, don't let someone fall for you the way I did." Garrett walked away from the casket, allowing a few other mourners to approach and say their own quiet farewells. He scanned the room, searching for the faces of the other men Valerie had replaced him with from time to time. Derek may have been the first, but eventually, Garrett learned of Leon, Chris, Wayne, Zack, and a few others whose names he no longer knew. None were present for Valerie's funeral – no one came to see the unfaithful woman they spent a brief time with. "Excuse me." Garrett turned around and came face to face with a middle-aged woman. She greatly resembled Valerie, but the luster of her beauty had been zapped away by the passing of the years. They never met before, but there was no mistaking that Garrett was standing before Valerie's mother. "Hello," Garrett told her. "I'm…I'm sorry for your loss." "You're Garrett, aren't you?" she asked, her voice hushed and calm. "You were in my daughter's profile picture for quite some time." "Yes. We dated a while." Valerie's mother gave Garrett a hug, an action he presumed was more for her sake than his. She just lost her daughter, and so Garrett had enough of a heart to pat her on the back a few times, to awkwardly state with his hand that everything would be all right. Valerie's mother sniffled against Garrett's shoulder. "It's okay, you know. It's okay to cry, Garrett." "I've done enough crying over Valerie, ma'am. We all run out of tears some time." She looked up at him, a miserable expression on her face. "Did my daughter treat you poorly?" Garrett had a decision to make. There was the honest truth and the words he thought she needed to hear. He chose the latter. "Valerie was kind, and sweet, and beautiful. I was just…afraid to lose someone so perfect. But now that I have, it's…a strange feeling. I'm sad, but I cannot cry." The woman nodded. "We all grieve in our own way. Thank you for coming, Garrett." Garrett forced a meek smile. "You're welcome." I waited a long, long time I waited a long, long time I waited a long, long time I waited a long, long time Garrett left the pond and the grass and the walnut tree all behind, never to return. Beneath the water, tiny minnows and polliwogs were an audience to a magnificent sight. The ring case popped back open, Garrett's teardrop having turned to a golden material. It shined beautifully there, sparkling as it expanded and cracked through the case. Its transformation complete, the droplet of memories, born of a misguided adoration, had become a crystal sun. The spiny, glowing gem possessed a brilliant core at the center, ascending out of the pond and into the sky, undetected by Garrett. It would sail far away, carrying Garrett's love—however foolish and painful it might have been—off into the depths of the universe. In the end, we cannot help who we love and that power tends to get away from us, giving birth to a thousand crystal chronicles made up of our hopes and fears.

An Open Letter to the Patrons of the Epics Forum The Library has been marked by such inactivity as of late, and we sought to inspire action through our charity reviews and a concerted effort alongside many others to make the OTC a reality. This was a moment of victory for all authors on BZPower, an opportunity to be explored. We are the ECC, the proud servants of this sub-forum through which writers have prospered and developed under our careful guidance. The insight of seven incarnations has always emphasized a strong rapport with those we serve, those who provide us a reason for our collective's existence, and those we hold most important. We stand before you, accused of bringing harm to those we wish only to elevate. We have been informed that our charity work is an unbecoming statement, a sea of criticism where there ought to exist a brilliant reaction. In light of this determination, we know only unease—a concern for this forum, as our words are forced to recede. The Library's greatest threat is inactivity, trailed by poor writing as a close second. However, we have been asked to step back, to refocus our lens to a wider view. The state of the epics sub-forum is a staff matter before it is an ECC one, but like the staff, this is a responsibility we selected for ourselves. We have made every attempt to be approachable, to remind you that we are your supporters, and yet we were made privy to your disregard from the powers above us. I have spent years in the company of writers here, and only in this instance do I feel a sense of failure lingers over the ECC. And so we have come to a decision we choose to share publicly. Charity reviews will be reworked into a format we believe writers will find more comfortable, while also promoting the critiquing efforts of others in this sub-forum. If you feel we have done your work or the work of others any dishonor, please speak to us. We are always here, ready to listen and grow together with you as we continue to reshape our methodology. We are only young men and women, nothing so special outside of the hours we have spent refining our ability to critique. Our primary objective is to serve you and, with your advice, we predict our endeavors can only improve from here. Thank you.

New Beginning has been reviewed. -Ced

I don't think we've met before. My name is Cederak and this is an ECC Charity Review. It's a lot like a regular ECC review, except we're coming to you. It's like delivery pizza that you never even put a call in for, and the best part is that it's totally free. How great is that? Anyway, introductions out of the way, I'd like to run through some errors first. Spelling: old-fashioned Spelling: wandering Comma after "ground." Comma after "late." Numbers fewer than one hundred should be written out, as in "fifty." So, "New Beginning," huh? I placed the title in quotes on the assumption you didn't plan to reach the standard novel length—an ironic term considering the standard remains a topic of debate among writers—but that's neither here nor there. I have longed to see more work focus on the world of Spherus Magna post-Teridax-death in a way that really speaks to me. In this case, it felt like speaking with a child, and I think I can shed some light on the reason why. Before we even touch the actual plot (not that there's much written in three chapters topping out around a total of 1,500 words, give or take a bit), I want to discuss some of your aesthetic decisions. By that I mean the use of words in all-caps to stress importance or shouting or whatever, and just an excessive among of exclamation points. Did you know there are online articles suggesting a writer should be allowed a single exclamation point per novel? And all-caps or bolded words are off-limits entirely. I'll tell you now, I'm not at that single exclamation point level yet (nor do I entirely agree with the philosophy), but I think I'm justified in saying you could draw back on some of your own. When dialogue is written in a strong way, it doesn't require all this bolding, or italics, or all-caps words to support the point the writer is trying to drive home. Strong dialogue speaks for itself, it flows powerfully and smoothly. The same could be said of character and scenery description, of which there is very little. The characters are mostly those known from the canon, but you've made them very flat here, running on the belief that the reader will already know enough about them that you don't have to make them stand out. And that's a problem, because you really, really need to make them stand out. I'm not saying to write your stories here as though the audience knows nothing of Bionicle, goodness no. But write your characters, canon or otherwise, as though they are brand new. Give them color, personality, viewpoints, individuality, and let them express all that as people would in real life. Repeat with your landscapes and throw some paint on the canvas. It's in dire need here, I'm afraid. Back to your plot…it's confusing to say the least. And yet it's almost painfully basic. It's that point where you deviate from canon (Skakdi Fusion is actually Teridax? Really?) that completely lost me. Had I just been skimming stories and not been on assignment, I would've kept searching through epics because of how basic your description of Spherus Magna and the faces inhabiting it are. If I had made it far enough to realize where the plot was going, however, I would've been able to see it just really didn't appeal to me and would've promptly moved on. And on that note, there's really nothing you can do. Not everyone is going to like your plotlines, simple as that. So my best advice here is to work on your characters, scenery, and dialogue especially. Best of luck. -Ced

The story is staying consistent in terms of your description of the environment, and I really love the relationship you've continued to build between Light Teridax and Toa Hahli. The tension and slight discomfort between them feels very natural, but they make a great team as well. I only found one error in the second chapter: Hahli kept Intended or not (and I hope it was intended), I love that Light Teridax brought up this parallel to Antroz's musing (variety is the spice of destruction). It further establishes the variance between Hahli's companion and the entities that turned their back on Mata Nui. It feels like a true staple of Bionicle canon, really, the way this whole story is turning out. I eagerly await the conclusion to your tale, GSR. Wonderful as ever. -Ced UPDATE...Chapter 3 was outstanding and a perfect way to wrap the story up. In particular, that paragraph where Light Teridax talks about the danger of going down a road of darkness and Hahli's realization that she could never forgive what his other self had done, that was such a well-done passage. Let me just run through a few errors and then...more good news. In both quotes, the first line ending is missing an end quotation mark, but the second line has one. Pretty sure that's not okay, but there could also be so obscure grammar rule I forgot about. I don't know. "grabbed her body" Being such a pleasure to read, I took a moment to advertise your epic on my blog--not something I do often, I'll have you know, but this was really great, GSR. -Ced

@Tolkien: I must say, that introduction is hilariously awesome. Very cool of you to commit like that. Also, thank you so much for the review. I edited in many of the changes you suggested, and I'll have to work on the pacing in the latter half of the story when I have more free time. Glad you enjoyed the story. @Yukiko: Excessive nitpicking understood, from one critic to another. I made the edit as per your last suggestion. -Ced

You're quite welcome. Also, the board cuts posts off around 8,000 words. You were nowhere near the danger zone. -Ced

Resident flatterer? Have I told you how nice you look today? Also, you were right, turned in long before the 25th. -Ced

Look, up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's a rather average-rate ECC review. A little odd that anyone thought it resembled the shape of a bird or plane, but I digress. Let's tackle some grammatical and spelling errors first, then we'll talk turkey about your story's plot. set up by Lowercase the word "he" As the opposite of what you say is a complete sentence, your statement must be a fragment. By that I mean to replace your semicolon with a comma. Once again, replace the semicolon with a comma. "all right" is the term you want. The single word version is less accepted as correct. As a rule of thumb, it wouldn't hurt to get in the habit of writing it as two words. Third incorrect semicolon usage. Commas are your friend, really! then why Numbers below one hundred should be written out (ex: twenty) Just a personal opinion, but I think this would work better as a single word. It may not be a real word, but this is your fictional story. You're allowed to play around with nouns a bit. "a" or "the" should precede royal guard. they're arguing about and see what Simply for the sake of reading this epic, I kind of wish you'd requested it after this hero in your title does some rising. Or at least does something. Also, I wanted to point out that your approach to this epic in a present tense format is most irregular around here. As it were, it made things feel very, very off as opposed to the standard past tense format used by third person narrators. It's not to say that present tense is an impossibility, but I do think it worked against you in this case. In regards to your constant lowercase spelling of Matoran and Kanohi, I was willing to let that slide. My philosophy with things like that is one mistake is an error, but consistency is style. Moving on to your actual story though, there's room for a lot of potential in there. The real issue comes from how little you're actually doing. Somewhere between the balance of assuming your reader is an intelligent, coherent person and knowing they won't predict every little twist and turn of your plot, you need to be prepared to give back. I'm not talking about holding their hand and walking them through what your story is supposed to be, but I mean really rewarding your audience. The story feels very drained of color, stilted as well. It's bland, if I have to come right out and be frank about it. There's little to no sensory experience for your characters, details are locales and cities are sparse beyond what sounds like the advertisement on some kind of alien world's travel brochure. I find myself saying this more often than I like, but for all the hard facts of the story, you really need to churn out details. The basic plot and all the foundational elements in it, that's the "broccoli" if you'll work with my analogy for a moment. But details, rich, colorful, fantastic descriptions of the world built up around your characters, that's your "ice cream." The trick is to give your readers just enough broccoli, and plenty of ice cream. Because most people totally love ice cream, correct? Now, I could probably say something similar for your characters, because outside of their names and some vague words about their armor/species/size, there's really nothing to make them feel genuine. They could be faceless entities just chit-chatting with one another, and I know that isn't what you wanted them to come across as. Give them character, feelings, emotional reactions, curiosities, likes/dislikes, idiosyncrasies, the sky is the limit! Just make them unique, whole embodiments of your writing. I'll level with you, it's tough to stare your work down and admit that it has its shortcomings, but take the opportunity to really ask yourself "If I were reading this story rather than writing it, knowing absolutely nothing about the rest of the story other than what I've seen thus far, how invested would I be in continuing to read it?" You may find yourself dissatisfied with the answer you receive and I couldn't think of a better reaction really. Complacency is the perfect barrier to improvement, and a writer always has room for improvement. Trust me when I say that I've seen work like yours in the past, in the same way I'm trusting myself right now when I say I'll probably see more like it in the future. And I'll wind up writing another review like this, talking about scenery and characters that need a dose of life injected into them, as if I'm living some kind of weird critiquing version of Groundhog Day. So here's the facts. Writing isn't easy. If it were, I'd have made enough money off it to be in a mansion somewhere right now rushing down an indoor water slide with a loop in the middle while classic rock tunes blare in the background. And second of all, writing demands a lot of a writer. If you don't put all of yourself into the story and everything that encompasses it, your readers will receive even less than that. You're a storyteller, and the written word is the conduit through which you will tell it. If something doesn't come out the way it looked in your head, the audience will never know. So writing is a matter of getting back what you give. And if you give everything, I'd wager dollars to donuts that your audience will reward the effort. Anyway, that's the long version of it. Let that sink in for a little bit…think it over. And best of luck, fellow writer. -Ced

My apologies that we did not attend to this request sooner, KtU. Your story is being assigned to our lovely director, the one and only, Hahli Historian. By my clock, she has until Wednesday, January 16th to give you the full, in-depth review you came for. Trust me when I say she won't disappoint. Also, thank you for choosing the ECC. -Ced

Hello, SSCC. Just stopping in to get my latest piece critiqued. Thanks! The Garden by Cederak -Ced

@Peach: Yeah, the edit is fine. I figured there was a good reason for the slip. No big deal. I am happily surprised to see my Google searching actually sent me in the right direction on the town name thing. Anyway, get well soon (if you haven't already) and you're quite welcome for the review. @Sky: Where have I seen that method of reviewing before? Oh wait, I know exactly where. And rather than point them out so obviously in front of everyone, I want to say something really quick. As a long-time critic, the style, the very voice of a critique is sacred business. When you copy that voice (be it through emulation, homage, or whatever) it's like you're stealing and repackaging someone's signature. It comes off as insincere and contrived, especially like this. Much of your criticism was tied to arbitrary aesthetics, and you had the foresight to put corrections in air quotes for that. But I'll agree with you on this: I enjoyed the story. -Ced

Dear Ms. Aderia, Thank you for saying such kind words. It seems fate has once again separated me from seeing your Christmas pens at work. I've had quite a busy holiday myself, what with people to visit and dishes to prepare. Somehow in the midst of all this, I found a moment to break away and get some writing done. A Happy New Year to you as well, miss. May it be an improvement to all of your 2012. I am glad you brought up my use of names. I happened upon your request in the OTC to hear about how writers develop their names and I'd like to personally answer you here. The process is one of wondrous chaos, drawing inspiration as my eyes scan the keyboard, gliding my vision from letter to letter. In a matter of moments, the process builds such names as Verolais, Diventia, Emphyon - words that mean nothing to me until I give them purpose. Born from such happy coincidence, these serendipitous names are just another facet in the writing process. I think it's quite special that they merited colorful stickers and holiday paper (Vivez pendant le moment, oui?). The Garden is as much a story of family and legacy as it is an adventure, so I understand the "plush-ness" you spoke of. Verolais embarks on a journey that challenges her resolve and character, coming out the other side as the strong woman she always was on the inside. Or as much of a woman as a female biomechanical life form can be. At any rate, each Crystal Chronicle has a lesson to be learned and you've explored them nicely thus far. It's easy to hamper a female lead by forcing her to rely on others, but Verolais is lone traveler, prepared to wage a one-woman war on anyone who stands in her way. She's endearing and sweet, but not to be crossed. In short, I wrote her as something of an ideal human in my eyes - flawed, but far from broken. Thanks again for your beautiful letter; I do hope to hear from you again soon. Yours Sincerely, Cederak

Well that took a cold (freezing, even) turn for the unexpected. For a man guilted into writing for the FFFC, I would agree with your anonymous readers that told you it's "a nice story." Not a "nice" story, necessarily, but well-written for what it accomplishes. I would like to point out how clunky "The twilight lit sky had vanished by now" sounded. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the term, but "twilit" as in "twilit sky" would've worked better in my opinion. Just a casual though, I guess. Ah, how you can create a drama from the potency of teenage hormones made into emotions. The eye line of the misunderstood will have you looking at everything through strange, dreamy windows at a world of utter darkness and confusion. That appears to be the world your protagonist lives in, and I particularly liked all of her reflection on life throughout the tale. Just as the light reflects off the newly fallen snow, glittering across the atmosphere, so too does this young woman reflect on her futility to live as she might like in a world run by adults. To end it like that…wow. Gun to the head seems the quick—somewhat messy—option, but if you were looking for bonus points with that dramatic, ice shattering instant, you certainly won them fair and square. I don't think I've ever encountered anyone taking that particular route with suicide (perhaps because it's a little bit specific, but still) and a rather theatrical performance to conclude in drowning. It hearkens back to how much the young man from the story really meant to her, and what being with him meant. I won't talk about order of priorities regarding this girl, because fiction often requires a suspension of disbelief to work, but the ending is a dark moment in an otherwise fairly innocent piece. I don't find myself to be the authority on where we should go when the last of our breath has left our lungs, and yet I find myself hoping that your made-up in a few minutes, fictional young lady finds her place to enjoy Christmas and what it means to her. Which means you did quite a job in convincing me to feel some kind of bond with your character in a small amount of time. A fine job, Alex. -Ced

Sarah? Either this is a typo and it slipped in accidentally in place of your protagonist's real name (though "real" in this case is only determined by using one name more frequently than another), Katie, or this reference seems really unnecessary. I'll try to stay on point with you though. This was superb. Your description of a late winter evening conjured all the softness and bitter cold that awaits me out my own door at this very moment. A young woman trudging through the snow, the midnight clouds made a faint orange by all that reflected city light off the frozen water, well…it all came to mind so vividly. There's nothing like having a strong picture of who your protagonist is, but I consider place to be extremely important. This delivered on that front. Beneath the harshness of your winter scene, however, touches of people's kindness, of a middle-aged woman's humanity have managed to melt away the frost and become exposed. It makes for a feel-good ending, very much in line with the holiday season. So, yes, you're walking through familiar territory in terms of what sort of writing this is, but the fact that you completely commit to taking me to that place, drawing in my senses so absolutely…I can forgive a bit of unoriginality. Being an FFFC entry as well, I want to extend my thanks on Velox's behalf for being another entrant to that wonderful little contest. The Ambage is sometimes clawing for participants, given that we have so many plans large and small within our writing community, but the material always carries some hint of inspiration that makes for a fun, happy experience for readers and writers alike. On an unrelated note, I took the liberty of typing Tahlonega into Google and seeing what I might find. It was apparently one letter away from being an actual city's name, which is still rather amazing, just looking at how odd the word appears to be. At any rate, nicely done, Peach. -Ced

Oppression has also been reviewed. Yay, first 2013 ECC charity review! -Ced

Congratulations. You have been unknowingly selected as the winner of the first ECC charity review of 2013. What a treat, right? "Yes, yes it is." Glad you agree. Now, before we get down to the important points, I'll run through the single error (that's right, you're either really good with your grammar/spelling or I was really off my game in that department today) I found. him camping? Glancing at your review topic, I quickly discovered this story has roots in the RPG forums. This fact may inform your characters having biological processes like using the bathroom or eating non-protodermis-based food. As a rule, RP-inspired epics tend to lack something in terms of characterization. Perhaps because the intended audience is the writer's RP friends who already know the back-story and just want a new plot. This often alienates other writers from reading the epic because that disconnect exists. Your introduction tells that the reader is in for a tale of family, vengeance, and oppression. It sounds intense, but I only have so little to work with here. I liked your depiction of male Vortixx life on Xia, living under the merciless rule of the females. Males fight to survive, even for a small meal to get them through the day. It's a solid look at how I sometimes imagined things on Xia to work, with the males practically being slaves. Of course, your lead seems destined for great things down the road. I presume he would eventually go on to oppress the females as he was once oppressed, possibly playing upon your title in this way. Only speculation, but once again, I don't have a lot to work with. The basic premise of this story is pretty good, but I think it really faltered in terms of detail and character description. The walls didn't have enough paint and the people in the room were a little too pale, if you get what I'm saying. Splash some life into all that, and I think you'll be well on your way. Best of luck. -Ced

Well this was a welcome addition to the library. A story that picks up after the events of the storyline with such a smooth transition is rarity, in my experience. Shame this will only go on for three posts, it was very good. I'll say more after addressing a couple errors. involved in the teams of Agori Light Teridax. A character almost as forgettable as Tuma after the whole "battle with Mata Nui" business, but you found quite a use for him here. Each of the canon entities that have shown up so far feel very aligned with what I already know of them. Mazeka might have required a bit of inspiration, but I think he was as natural as Helryx or the Toa Mahri in all this. Mainly, your Light Teridax was a real treat. The story felt a little slow to start, but it was Teridax's dialogue with Hahli that really got things going. The discussion brought up some excellent points about characters coming from separate universes, where roles are vastly different. In a world that never praised the name Mata Nui, there's this sense of "everything is okay" that Hahli has never quite had the opportunity to grow accustomed to. Beyond that, I really have to applaud how you've shaped your post-storyline Spherus Magna. You didn't answer all my questions, nor did you need to. You provided just enough in just the right way, to evenly run between what I need to know and where the story is headed next. Stories that try to capture what you're tackling are a dime a dozen, but to do it in a way that incorporates such seamless transitions between explanations and plot, well…I think my search through the haystack has finally brought me a nice, shiny needle. I'm looking forward to the remainder of this story in three parts. The title also leaves me rather suspicious of Light Teridax's true intent. Is a reference to him as the "shadow" of our story an allusion to the version from Hahli's universe, or is there an unexpected development on the horizon? Don't answer, my imagination will more than keep me sated until the next installment arrives. Fine work, GSR. -Ced

The Beginning has been reviewed. -Ced

Charity review time! After taking roughly a month off, getting back into the swing with such a small piece was no great challenge. And with only two errors, well…I'm impressed. stared at their quarry This is another epic I've encountered among some other recent ones that really wants to return to the roots of the Bionicle mythos. There is certainly a market for nostalgia and this hearkened back to Hapka's writing and the other media available at the time. My problem with stories like this is when you color in the lines a little too much. Well-versed canon fans know the 2001 story back and forth, so if your intention was to sharpen your writing chops, well done. If your intention was to explore something in a way I've never seen before…not so well done. All of the source material you wished to include in this epic gives a fine explanation of what happened during the beginning of 2001. So much so, in fact, that I remain very curious whether this epic was finished or not. I don't encounter epics so short too often, but the way your first chapter ends, it could either serve as an interlude to the rest of the 2001 story, or you might've actually been planning to cover more of that. The big point here is that the events have been hashed and rehashed so many times through the canon, throughout this library, and throughout other fanfiction websites that there's nothing that really impressed me about this story. True, you only had a couple grammatical errors, but there was no "stand out" moments that made this epic feel compelling. If nothing else, I enjoyed your description of scenery. So yeah, you can come in here and justify your epic with not being an experienced author, and how you were simply in a writing mood, but bear in mind that people are going to read your work. Whether you ever hear a single word about it, people are reading your work. And looking at your review topic, a response wasn't worth their time. But what does someone say about a story like this? What do you say when it feels like you've dropped homage for ripping off the story of a few well-known comics and the work of C.A. Hapka? It's not outright plagiarism, no, but it's close enough to make this feel unimaginative. Here's the deal. You're a fan of Bionicle, so am I. The fact that you wrote this all the way in 2012, with the storyline already long concluded, tells me that you probably have some respect for the ancient days of 2001 and the Toa's arrival on Mata Nui. That said, we don't need another C.A. Hapka or Greg Farshtey to run through our favorite pieces of the early storyline. We already have those books. We need original, thoughtful, creative tales that take the universe we know and love to places we can only dream of. Bionicle is a vast and mysterious mythos and I think you sold yourself short taking this route. Obviously, it's been several months since you wrote this, but if you should happen to read this review, please take what I've said into consideration. My first job is to inspire writers to write more and give the best of their abilities. Good luck. -Ced