Because I -Really- have to get this off my chest.
I'm normally not a bitter person. I can normally take something upsetting and shrug it off within a few hours or even a couple of days at best. I appear to have met my match.
I participated in an online competition, the VOCT (Vorish Original Character Tournament) Held by Lapseph. I started scribbling a story, some 5 months ago, just to see how I went, with no actual thoughts in my head of getting far. Round 2 or 3, I thought, would be my limit, and I'd be taken out fashionably by someone of decent skill.
The tournament was a little rough and iffy, There was a lack of input from the contest runners, the judging was mismatched and spontaneous. People lost for judgings that made no sense, People won for reasons that other people had lost. It was all up in the air.
Through all this though, I made it past round 1, by default. Reed had computer issues and couldn't submit his work. I still made friends with him.
Round 2, I stumbled through with my story growing enourmously in depth as other events took place in round one that linked to mine.
Round 3, Revenge. The big point for Tsumi, taking revenge. I won that round, and in writing Tsumi's 'incentive' for finishing, gave myself a little nudge for the finish. I had come as far as I had intended to, could I actually make it to the finish?
Round 4. I versed Misa, a comic drawer of particular talent and skill. Albeit his Storylines had a tendency of Deus-ex-machina and a general -lack- of storylines. This was fixed in the round versing me, and I truely thought I had met my match. To be honest, A small part of me wished to lose that round, because it was a -Fantastic- Entry.
I won again, and in doing so, made it to the final round.
On the other end of the spectrum, the proverbial 'other side of the island', Sparky the chu had started from meek and humble beginnings. In his well-practiced Style of anime. He was putting alot of time and effort into his drawing, but less so into his storyline. He bounced, from round to round with rather minimal furthering of a storyline, so much as he had sparky winning, and getting bolstered by friends and foe. 'you can do it, Sparky!' 'you're stronger then you think!' The 'Feel good' vibe was potently strong.
He reached round three, and I thought He'd met his match. Stank, the skunk. A comic artist whom I have considerable respect for, through his artistic talents and quirky humour and personal style. I thought for sure It was a no brainer, and the turn-about battle was all in Stanks favour.
He lost. in a land-slide, to Sparky. Something on my radar pinged worryingly.
The judges claimed sparky was making headway in his story, working further and creating character depth. Where Stank was lacking. Rather, both comics were exploring, but Stanks reached so much further, with a unique feel and soul to it. I felt he had every right to feel as wronged as he did. But time moved on.
I versed Sparky, I got to talking with him about the round, about his character, his actions, his motives, reactions. I nitpicked my story through a half-dozen people to see how it read as a story, and where it was wrong, fixing it to be the best I could. I worked through the shocking number of people who remained at the end (Where I felt they had no place. In particular, a few people who had spectator entries of their Characters return.)
I could have done better, and I knew there were a few things that could be smoothed out, but I had my reasoning for them. They worked. And as I made for canada, with time remaining, I realised Sparky had not asked much, or in actuality, -anything- about My character. 'He must have studied it all up.' I told myself.
The final eve drew, and We posted our submissions. I watched with growing shock, amusement and horror, at Sparky's final peice. The seemingly darkening story-line quirking from humour, back to Seriousness. Where my character stood around like an accessory. Outfit mistaken, The style of the character, the will-power, the ability to FIGHT (as I'd written him for 5 rounds) replaced with a leg-locked quivering child who second guessed himself every other moment.
The storyline, alight with more then just Anime style, there were -references- in there. Up to a half dozen alone I could name from the top of my head. Gurren Lagen, Tora, Dragon Ball Z, and G-Gundam to name a few. The last one, in particular I type with a twitch of my lip and a burning surge of anger.
It wasn't enough for Tsumi to be... NOT Tsumi, He had to then participate in an attack that he miraculously knew HOW to perform, and The incantation of. Despite sounding foolishly pitiable, that was an insult. I knew Sparky inteded to put it in there, But I expected more input from him. More 'it's like this', or allusion to Tsumi being taught how. Not just 'here we go!' and perfect execution.
It didn't end there. The Dragon-ball Z Cell-games referenced ending made me shake my head, and reading on as Erebus, the antagonist was not felled, as 'predicted'. He instead, opted to Throw a sizeable chunk of rock at the duo. And Of course, Tsumi, being unable to summon walls of rock for protection, or the foresight to push anyone aside; threw himself infront of the projectile. The terrible wording of 'please save Kyt' when the prior mentioned 'incentive' had been saved earlier in the comic made me groan.
Second to last page, and Sparky snuck in his obligatory vore peice. 3 panels of hastily drawn micro-vore. and an obscure reasoning to 'saving' the moogle by digesting him and keeping his soul safe. Why they did not give the moogle to one of the aptly available Mages that were in the background to be healed, and -useful- in the comic, I have no idea. It seemed a cheap ending, for my character's mediocre placement in an insulting peice of work.
I sat back after reading the comic and joked about it. I was headstrong and confident of my own peice, whilst we waited for the judging. And that took a long time in and of itself.
The morning of the judging finally came and I awoke to a noise of disgust. My boyfriend who I was staying with at the time, awake and on the computer. A sensation of worry gnawed at my stomach as I opened my laptop and logged in. I read, with my heart pounding in my throat and trembles running through my body, through the reverse style judging, through the comments. My face steadily changing, to a look that, as Kyt so aptly put; 'read that the sky had opened up and rained shit on me.'
Sparky had won.
Was it Karma's backlash for my being so smug and certain of victory? Was there something grand awaiting me in the future that I had to pay for at this point, after 5 months of work and stress and working through a flickering muse? I didn't know. But I wanted to cry.
I re-read the comments, and of the few I acknowledged, recognised some folly in my story-writing, for the final peice, parts that could have honestly been better. and I knew that and understood it. But re-reading the critique for sparky's, found more and more insulted.
They praised him, for his wanton use of references. It was not a bad thing that this grand finale had come down to the most random interjection of cross-hatched TV shows into the vorish, furry community. That My character, had participated in it. It was a -good- thing! and Stank's random appearence at the very end, carrying yet another referenced item of Lore was inspired. Where Stank had written himself OUT in a spectatory entry.
I received a hug and condolences as I bitched my heart out to any and all I could. I'd never felt so insulted in my life. Over something so petty, I know far too well, but after the amount of time and effort put in, to trip and stumble at the finish line, to something that read so Badly was just unbearable.
I truely wished at that point I had lost to Misa, and least lost to someone who wrote my character aptly, correctly and with a heart to the story. I -felt- when I read Kraz's story-end, I -felt- when I read Misa's story end. I -laughed- when I read Sparky's. And yet he was the only one to beat me in the competition.
I am bitter. More so then I thought I could be. I've tried to displace these feelings, but every single time I go on FA, I am reminded of them and they percolate up unbidden. The competition could go to hell, for all I cared. The lack of organisation, the lack of judging criteria, the lack of (in my view) truely unbiased comparing.
Despite sounding childish; I lost respect for Sparky, reading that comic. I lost respect for him when he won. I lost what little, begrudging, yet growing respect for the judges too, those that I knew of. And all at the end, I'm sitting here, bitter and wishing I could forget about it all. Thus; the journal.
I wish I could have seen the end of the competition out with a smile. Either with victory in my grasp, or in the hands of someone deserving, but despite the amount of effort I know Sparky put into his comic, More then anything, I wish it was anyone but him.
I'm not normally a bitter person. and hopefully, This will be the end of if it. If you read this and go shooting back to tell people I'm a bad sport and a childish whiner, fair play to you. But damnit, this just reeks of unfairness.
((Recount of Canada Trip comming soon.)
I participated in an online competition, the VOCT (Vorish Original Character Tournament) Held by Lapseph. I started scribbling a story, some 5 months ago, just to see how I went, with no actual thoughts in my head of getting far. Round 2 or 3, I thought, would be my limit, and I'd be taken out fashionably by someone of decent skill.
The tournament was a little rough and iffy, There was a lack of input from the contest runners, the judging was mismatched and spontaneous. People lost for judgings that made no sense, People won for reasons that other people had lost. It was all up in the air.
Through all this though, I made it past round 1, by default. Reed had computer issues and couldn't submit his work. I still made friends with him.
Round 2, I stumbled through with my story growing enourmously in depth as other events took place in round one that linked to mine.
Round 3, Revenge. The big point for Tsumi, taking revenge. I won that round, and in writing Tsumi's 'incentive' for finishing, gave myself a little nudge for the finish. I had come as far as I had intended to, could I actually make it to the finish?
Round 4. I versed Misa, a comic drawer of particular talent and skill. Albeit his Storylines had a tendency of Deus-ex-machina and a general -lack- of storylines. This was fixed in the round versing me, and I truely thought I had met my match. To be honest, A small part of me wished to lose that round, because it was a -Fantastic- Entry.
I won again, and in doing so, made it to the final round.
On the other end of the spectrum, the proverbial 'other side of the island', Sparky the chu had started from meek and humble beginnings. In his well-practiced Style of anime. He was putting alot of time and effort into his drawing, but less so into his storyline. He bounced, from round to round with rather minimal furthering of a storyline, so much as he had sparky winning, and getting bolstered by friends and foe. 'you can do it, Sparky!' 'you're stronger then you think!' The 'Feel good' vibe was potently strong.
He reached round three, and I thought He'd met his match. Stank, the skunk. A comic artist whom I have considerable respect for, through his artistic talents and quirky humour and personal style. I thought for sure It was a no brainer, and the turn-about battle was all in Stanks favour.
He lost. in a land-slide, to Sparky. Something on my radar pinged worryingly.
The judges claimed sparky was making headway in his story, working further and creating character depth. Where Stank was lacking. Rather, both comics were exploring, but Stanks reached so much further, with a unique feel and soul to it. I felt he had every right to feel as wronged as he did. But time moved on.
I versed Sparky, I got to talking with him about the round, about his character, his actions, his motives, reactions. I nitpicked my story through a half-dozen people to see how it read as a story, and where it was wrong, fixing it to be the best I could. I worked through the shocking number of people who remained at the end (Where I felt they had no place. In particular, a few people who had spectator entries of their Characters return.)
I could have done better, and I knew there were a few things that could be smoothed out, but I had my reasoning for them. They worked. And as I made for canada, with time remaining, I realised Sparky had not asked much, or in actuality, -anything- about My character. 'He must have studied it all up.' I told myself.
The final eve drew, and We posted our submissions. I watched with growing shock, amusement and horror, at Sparky's final peice. The seemingly darkening story-line quirking from humour, back to Seriousness. Where my character stood around like an accessory. Outfit mistaken, The style of the character, the will-power, the ability to FIGHT (as I'd written him for 5 rounds) replaced with a leg-locked quivering child who second guessed himself every other moment.
The storyline, alight with more then just Anime style, there were -references- in there. Up to a half dozen alone I could name from the top of my head. Gurren Lagen, Tora, Dragon Ball Z, and G-Gundam to name a few. The last one, in particular I type with a twitch of my lip and a burning surge of anger.
It wasn't enough for Tsumi to be... NOT Tsumi, He had to then participate in an attack that he miraculously knew HOW to perform, and The incantation of. Despite sounding foolishly pitiable, that was an insult. I knew Sparky inteded to put it in there, But I expected more input from him. More 'it's like this', or allusion to Tsumi being taught how. Not just 'here we go!' and perfect execution.
It didn't end there. The Dragon-ball Z Cell-games referenced ending made me shake my head, and reading on as Erebus, the antagonist was not felled, as 'predicted'. He instead, opted to Throw a sizeable chunk of rock at the duo. And Of course, Tsumi, being unable to summon walls of rock for protection, or the foresight to push anyone aside; threw himself infront of the projectile. The terrible wording of 'please save Kyt' when the prior mentioned 'incentive' had been saved earlier in the comic made me groan.
Second to last page, and Sparky snuck in his obligatory vore peice. 3 panels of hastily drawn micro-vore. and an obscure reasoning to 'saving' the moogle by digesting him and keeping his soul safe. Why they did not give the moogle to one of the aptly available Mages that were in the background to be healed, and -useful- in the comic, I have no idea. It seemed a cheap ending, for my character's mediocre placement in an insulting peice of work.
I sat back after reading the comic and joked about it. I was headstrong and confident of my own peice, whilst we waited for the judging. And that took a long time in and of itself.
The morning of the judging finally came and I awoke to a noise of disgust. My boyfriend who I was staying with at the time, awake and on the computer. A sensation of worry gnawed at my stomach as I opened my laptop and logged in. I read, with my heart pounding in my throat and trembles running through my body, through the reverse style judging, through the comments. My face steadily changing, to a look that, as Kyt so aptly put; 'read that the sky had opened up and rained shit on me.'
Sparky had won.
Was it Karma's backlash for my being so smug and certain of victory? Was there something grand awaiting me in the future that I had to pay for at this point, after 5 months of work and stress and working through a flickering muse? I didn't know. But I wanted to cry.
I re-read the comments, and of the few I acknowledged, recognised some folly in my story-writing, for the final peice, parts that could have honestly been better. and I knew that and understood it. But re-reading the critique for sparky's, found more and more insulted.
They praised him, for his wanton use of references. It was not a bad thing that this grand finale had come down to the most random interjection of cross-hatched TV shows into the vorish, furry community. That My character, had participated in it. It was a -good- thing! and Stank's random appearence at the very end, carrying yet another referenced item of Lore was inspired. Where Stank had written himself OUT in a spectatory entry.
I received a hug and condolences as I bitched my heart out to any and all I could. I'd never felt so insulted in my life. Over something so petty, I know far too well, but after the amount of time and effort put in, to trip and stumble at the finish line, to something that read so Badly was just unbearable.
I truely wished at that point I had lost to Misa, and least lost to someone who wrote my character aptly, correctly and with a heart to the story. I -felt- when I read Kraz's story-end, I -felt- when I read Misa's story end. I -laughed- when I read Sparky's. And yet he was the only one to beat me in the competition.
I am bitter. More so then I thought I could be. I've tried to displace these feelings, but every single time I go on FA, I am reminded of them and they percolate up unbidden. The competition could go to hell, for all I cared. The lack of organisation, the lack of judging criteria, the lack of (in my view) truely unbiased comparing.
Despite sounding childish; I lost respect for Sparky, reading that comic. I lost respect for him when he won. I lost what little, begrudging, yet growing respect for the judges too, those that I knew of. And all at the end, I'm sitting here, bitter and wishing I could forget about it all. Thus; the journal.
I wish I could have seen the end of the competition out with a smile. Either with victory in my grasp, or in the hands of someone deserving, but despite the amount of effort I know Sparky put into his comic, More then anything, I wish it was anyone but him.
I'm not normally a bitter person. and hopefully, This will be the end of if it. If you read this and go shooting back to tell people I'm a bad sport and a childish whiner, fair play to you. But damnit, this just reeks of unfairness.
((Recount of Canada Trip comming soon.)