Idol Finale
Dec. 27th, 2024 01:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
inkstainedfingertips“Come with me.”
I lead you down a staircase so long it feels like we’ve descended to the center of the earth. The air around us is cold and damp, and the stone corridor we're in seems to stretch on forever. The musty stench of mildew is strong, and the walls on either side of us are marked with patches of lichen that seem phosphorescent in the dim light.
As we walk, the steady drip-drip-drip of water echoes all around us, louder than our footsteps. We eventually find ourselves before a large steel door that's dotted with dirt and spots of rust that make it seem like it's been here since the beginning of time itself.
I pull an ancient key that’s dark and made of iron from my pocket and slip it into the lock, straining just to turn it. A moment later, the hard clunk and dull scrape of the lock disengaging echoes around the corridor.
Planting my feet on the stone floor, I brace myself and pull as hard as I can. The heavy door opens with a screech and squeal so sharp and piercing, it's reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard, making both of us wince.
A soft breeze flows out of the chamber that caresses our skin like the warm breath of the ten thousand spirits waiting for us beyond the doorway. You’re more nervous than before, uncertainty marking your features. But there truly is nothing to fear here.
I gesture to the open doorway. “Please. After you.”
You hesitate, still nervous, but curiosity seems to compel you forward. You precede me into the chamber beyond the door then pause and wait for me to catch up. It’s not quite as dim and murky as it is in the corridor and the air, though damp, is lighter. Somehow, though, the musty, earthy odor is stronger here.
“Please,” I say and motion you forward.
We pass a long row of cells on either side of us, all of them empty, and I see you shudder. If you listen close, you can still hear the voices of those who once occupied those cells. Nobody is ever truly gone. Still, the feeling is bleak, the silence almost oppressive, and it seems to weigh heavily on you, making you turn to me with an anxious look on your face.
“Don’t be afraid. There is nothing for you to fear here.”
We come to the far end of the chamber and stop. Before us are three cells, each of them occupied. You take a step forward, moving closer to the cells—but not too close—keeping yourself at a slight remove from the bars before you. As you study each of cell’s occupants in turn, I am studying you. And when you finally return your gaze to mine, there is a thoughtful look on your face and a thousand questions in your eyes.
You need not give voice to them, though. I already know what your questions are. They’re the same questions everybody who passes through this chamber has asked. The same questions I’ve already answered more times than I can count.
I gesture to the first cell, to the small handwritten sign affixed to the wall beside the door that reads,chasing_silver…
“She would be an excellent choice. She is steady, consistent, and knows how to hold your attention with a compelling story.”
You look at me, seeming to need more. Fair enough. You should have all the information you want before making a decision as weighty as this.
“Her stories have an almost philosophical bent. She leaves you with questions about life, death, morality, and spirituality. She might even make you question your own humanity. Her stories lead with the head and engage your mind. She makes you think. As I said before, choosing her would be an excellent decision.”
Your eyes linger on her for a long moment as you process what I’d just said. But then you turn to the next cell, glancing at the sign on the wall which reads,xeena...
“Another excellent choice,” I begin, already knowing you need more information. “Her stories blend the real and fictional in a clever and powerful way. You can find bits of her reality, her life, interspersed with achingly beautiful, yet brutally horrifying turns of phrase. She holds a mirror up, challenging you to look within, while exposing herself at the same time. It’s the authenticity and raw vulnerability of her tales that smack you in the face the hardest. Her pieces lead with the heart and make you feel. That’s where her strengths lie.”
You nod, your eyes lingering on her for a moment longer before you turn to the final cell and the sign beside it,inkstainedfingertips
You immediately turn to me with confusion painted upon your features. It’s an expected reaction, one I've seen many times, and I laugh softly.
“Yes, he’s wearing a mask,” I tell you. “He’s got secrets, this one.”
You frown and look slightly ill at ease. But you were in for a penny before, so you’re in for a pound now, and it is my job to tell you all you need to know.
“It’s easy to look at the gore and violence his words convey and see no further. But if you look closer, you might see there are bits of the real person hidden within the prose,” I tell you. “Real life and fiction often mirror one another, and it’s perhaps fair to wonder whether his tales are much like the mask he wears—meant to obscure his reality and hide who he really is while also putting it on display for all to see. But yes, he is an acquired taste, to say the least.”
You take a step back, and I watch as your eyes drift from cell to cell to cell, a thoughtful frown upon your lips as your mind churns. The weight of the decision you must make seems to be pressing down on you. I see the indecision on your face, but it is time for you to make your choice. There are others waiting who must pass through here to weigh their own decisions.
I turn to you. “Three stand before you, but only one may emerge,” I say, then preempt the next question I know you’re tempted to ask. “What happens to the other two is not your concern. You may only set one of them free.
Your frown—and your expression of indecision—deepen. I can tell you sense the gravity of the choice that sits before you. As is my duty, I hand you a ring of three iron keys. Your hand trembles as you reluctantly accept them.
“It is time to choose.”
Your steps slow and halting, you raise the keys and approach the cells…
* * * * *
It’s really easy for me to make a case for bothchasing_silver AND xeena to win the season. Both are incredibly talented and passionate writers. They come to the topics from opposite but very powerful directions.
As I said above, from my perspective,chasing_silver comes at it with her head, crafting stories that have an almost philosophical bent that makes you think, while xeena comes at them from the heart, spinning stories that are achingly beautiful, emotional, and authentic.
Though opposites in approach, both give you a real sense of who they are through their words. It’s a wonderful skill and one that has made for some truly memorable pieces that have stuck with me long after reading, such aschasing_silver’s tales about the glass cat and death, the man who spoke to trees, and her piece about the pandemic. Those are pieces that inspired things I continue to think about, even weeks after their crafting.
On the other side of that coin,xeena has penned some pieces that were like a gut punch on a first reading and continue to be a dull ache in my heart in the weeks since. Her piece about her battle with Xia and Mia, the doomed lovers, and her piece with the six vignettes were all equal parts hauntingly beautiful, tragic, and terrible all at the same time. They were all memorable and continue to make me *feel* as I think back on them.
Like I said, both are incredibly talented and passionate, one who leads with the head, one who leads with the heart, and as a reader, both approaches appeal to me. And I suspect that, given their successes over this season, appeal to quite a few. Both embody the Idol spirit, and either one would be a fantastic choice as this season’s champion.
As for me, I’m absolutely honored to be among these two talented, fierce competitors, and I’m profoundly grateful for the support that has gotten me to this point. When I first signed up, I had no expectations of where I might end up. I simply wanted to enjoy the process and learn to spread my creative wings a little wider than I’ve been able to in recent years. From that perspective, mission accomplished. To still be here at the end with two fantastic writers such as these is just gravy.
So, rather than argue my case, because I am honestly no more deserving of being here than anybody else who’s competed this season, I want to take this opportunity to say a big thank you toxeena who has been so warm and welcoming, and whose vocal support has truly helped me find the joy and passion in my work again—things that have been missing for a long while now.
I also want to thank my friend,drippedonpaper who strongly encouraged me to sign up all these weeks ago. Without her, I wouldn’t be here right now in the first place, so I’m incredibly grateful for the nudge she gave me.
I also want to thank everybody who’s voted for me week after week and kept pushing me forward. I am profoundly thankful to you all. And lastly, Gary deserves a big thank you as well for continuing to put out this labor of love season after season after season. Thank you for giving us all a forum to share our works and ourselves.
It’s been a wonderful season, and I walk away with nothing but gratitude and a rekindled passion in my heart. To me, that’s a big win no matter how the final vote shakes out.
I lead you down a staircase so long it feels like we’ve descended to the center of the earth. The air around us is cold and damp, and the stone corridor we're in seems to stretch on forever. The musty stench of mildew is strong, and the walls on either side of us are marked with patches of lichen that seem phosphorescent in the dim light.
As we walk, the steady drip-drip-drip of water echoes all around us, louder than our footsteps. We eventually find ourselves before a large steel door that's dotted with dirt and spots of rust that make it seem like it's been here since the beginning of time itself.
I pull an ancient key that’s dark and made of iron from my pocket and slip it into the lock, straining just to turn it. A moment later, the hard clunk and dull scrape of the lock disengaging echoes around the corridor.
Planting my feet on the stone floor, I brace myself and pull as hard as I can. The heavy door opens with a screech and squeal so sharp and piercing, it's reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard, making both of us wince.
A soft breeze flows out of the chamber that caresses our skin like the warm breath of the ten thousand spirits waiting for us beyond the doorway. You’re more nervous than before, uncertainty marking your features. But there truly is nothing to fear here.
I gesture to the open doorway. “Please. After you.”
You hesitate, still nervous, but curiosity seems to compel you forward. You precede me into the chamber beyond the door then pause and wait for me to catch up. It’s not quite as dim and murky as it is in the corridor and the air, though damp, is lighter. Somehow, though, the musty, earthy odor is stronger here.
“Please,” I say and motion you forward.
We pass a long row of cells on either side of us, all of them empty, and I see you shudder. If you listen close, you can still hear the voices of those who once occupied those cells. Nobody is ever truly gone. Still, the feeling is bleak, the silence almost oppressive, and it seems to weigh heavily on you, making you turn to me with an anxious look on your face.
“Don’t be afraid. There is nothing for you to fear here.”
We come to the far end of the chamber and stop. Before us are three cells, each of them occupied. You take a step forward, moving closer to the cells—but not too close—keeping yourself at a slight remove from the bars before you. As you study each of cell’s occupants in turn, I am studying you. And when you finally return your gaze to mine, there is a thoughtful look on your face and a thousand questions in your eyes.
You need not give voice to them, though. I already know what your questions are. They’re the same questions everybody who passes through this chamber has asked. The same questions I’ve already answered more times than I can count.
I gesture to the first cell, to the small handwritten sign affixed to the wall beside the door that reads,
chasing_silver… “She would be an excellent choice. She is steady, consistent, and knows how to hold your attention with a compelling story.”
You look at me, seeming to need more. Fair enough. You should have all the information you want before making a decision as weighty as this.
“Her stories have an almost philosophical bent. She leaves you with questions about life, death, morality, and spirituality. She might even make you question your own humanity. Her stories lead with the head and engage your mind. She makes you think. As I said before, choosing her would be an excellent decision.”
Your eyes linger on her for a long moment as you process what I’d just said. But then you turn to the next cell, glancing at the sign on the wall which reads,
xeena...“Another excellent choice,” I begin, already knowing you need more information. “Her stories blend the real and fictional in a clever and powerful way. You can find bits of her reality, her life, interspersed with achingly beautiful, yet brutally horrifying turns of phrase. She holds a mirror up, challenging you to look within, while exposing herself at the same time. It’s the authenticity and raw vulnerability of her tales that smack you in the face the hardest. Her pieces lead with the heart and make you feel. That’s where her strengths lie.”
You nod, your eyes lingering on her for a moment longer before you turn to the final cell and the sign beside it,
inkstainedfingertips You immediately turn to me with confusion painted upon your features. It’s an expected reaction, one I've seen many times, and I laugh softly.
“Yes, he’s wearing a mask,” I tell you. “He’s got secrets, this one.”
You frown and look slightly ill at ease. But you were in for a penny before, so you’re in for a pound now, and it is my job to tell you all you need to know.
“It’s easy to look at the gore and violence his words convey and see no further. But if you look closer, you might see there are bits of the real person hidden within the prose,” I tell you. “Real life and fiction often mirror one another, and it’s perhaps fair to wonder whether his tales are much like the mask he wears—meant to obscure his reality and hide who he really is while also putting it on display for all to see. But yes, he is an acquired taste, to say the least.”
You take a step back, and I watch as your eyes drift from cell to cell to cell, a thoughtful frown upon your lips as your mind churns. The weight of the decision you must make seems to be pressing down on you. I see the indecision on your face, but it is time for you to make your choice. There are others waiting who must pass through here to weigh their own decisions.
I turn to you. “Three stand before you, but only one may emerge,” I say, then preempt the next question I know you’re tempted to ask. “What happens to the other two is not your concern. You may only set one of them free.
Your frown—and your expression of indecision—deepen. I can tell you sense the gravity of the choice that sits before you. As is my duty, I hand you a ring of three iron keys. Your hand trembles as you reluctantly accept them.
“It is time to choose.”
Your steps slow and halting, you raise the keys and approach the cells…
* * * * *
It’s really easy for me to make a case for both
chasing_silver AND xeena to win the season. Both are incredibly talented and passionate writers. They come to the topics from opposite but very powerful directions.As I said above, from my perspective,
chasing_silver comes at it with her head, crafting stories that have an almost philosophical bent that makes you think, while xeena comes at them from the heart, spinning stories that are achingly beautiful, emotional, and authentic.Though opposites in approach, both give you a real sense of who they are through their words. It’s a wonderful skill and one that has made for some truly memorable pieces that have stuck with me long after reading, such as
chasing_silver’s tales about the glass cat and death, the man who spoke to trees, and her piece about the pandemic. Those are pieces that inspired things I continue to think about, even weeks after their crafting.On the other side of that coin,
xeena has penned some pieces that were like a gut punch on a first reading and continue to be a dull ache in my heart in the weeks since. Her piece about her battle with Xia and Mia, the doomed lovers, and her piece with the six vignettes were all equal parts hauntingly beautiful, tragic, and terrible all at the same time. They were all memorable and continue to make me *feel* as I think back on them. Like I said, both are incredibly talented and passionate, one who leads with the head, one who leads with the heart, and as a reader, both approaches appeal to me. And I suspect that, given their successes over this season, appeal to quite a few. Both embody the Idol spirit, and either one would be a fantastic choice as this season’s champion.
As for me, I’m absolutely honored to be among these two talented, fierce competitors, and I’m profoundly grateful for the support that has gotten me to this point. When I first signed up, I had no expectations of where I might end up. I simply wanted to enjoy the process and learn to spread my creative wings a little wider than I’ve been able to in recent years. From that perspective, mission accomplished. To still be here at the end with two fantastic writers such as these is just gravy.
So, rather than argue my case, because I am honestly no more deserving of being here than anybody else who’s competed this season, I want to take this opportunity to say a big thank you to
xeena who has been so warm and welcoming, and whose vocal support has truly helped me find the joy and passion in my work again—things that have been missing for a long while now. I also want to thank my friend,
drippedonpaper who strongly encouraged me to sign up all these weeks ago. Without her, I wouldn’t be here right now in the first place, so I’m incredibly grateful for the nudge she gave me. I also want to thank everybody who’s voted for me week after week and kept pushing me forward. I am profoundly thankful to you all. And lastly, Gary deserves a big thank you as well for continuing to put out this labor of love season after season after season. Thank you for giving us all a forum to share our works and ourselves.
It’s been a wonderful season, and I walk away with nothing but gratitude and a rekindled passion in my heart. To me, that’s a big win no matter how the final vote shakes out.
no subject
on 2024-12-29 12:26 am (UTC)I'm so not surprised to see we both did a horror themed piece at all. Great minds haha.
I love the direction you took this in. So beautiful and eerie as well. The setting was perfect.
You are so right about chasing_silver's stories. They have such a lot of warmth and wisdom.
What you said about my writing absolutely made my day. That my writing gets such an emotional reaction from you is truly the biggest compliment and it is always what I want when I write anything. I always want to convey deep emotions from love to horror and back again.
And your extra thank you to me made me teary again haha that's every post now! But seriously though, I'm so happy to have met and befriended you. And I appreciate all of the support you have given me too. You have absolutely been the highlight of this season for me 🫂
And I love that drippedonpaper is your friend. She is such a sweetheart and talented writer and I always looked forward to her entries too!
no subject
on 2025-01-01 08:19 pm (UTC)Getting to know you has been the best part of the season, and I am grateful for your friendship.
And your writing is inspiring. I honestly cannot say enough about how much I've enjoyed reading and getting to know you. It sucks that this is it, though!
Congratulations on all your very well earned success this season. Onward and upward!
no subject
on 2024-12-30 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2025-01-01 08:17 pm (UTC)Congrats on all your success this season.
no subject
on 2025-01-01 03:49 am (UTC)no subject
on 2025-01-01 08:16 pm (UTC)Thank you so very much for everything.
no subject
on 2025-01-01 10:41 am (UTC)no subject
on 2025-01-01 08:16 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2025-01-02 12:20 am (UTC)no subject
on 2025-01-04 04:28 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2025-01-03 08:55 pm (UTC)I still wonder how you are not Kevin. Your interests and writing style are Kevin's jam, and you have the easy of storytelling that he does! Maybe you are twins under the skin, and just don't know it. :D
Congratulations on making the Final 3!
no subject
on 2025-01-04 04:27 pm (UTC)Check your LJ. :-)