What'dya Mean 4.0 Stars?

What’dya Mean 4.0 Stars?

         Dan reread the text of his newest creation. It was supposed to be a story written in response to a prompt of a photograph.

         He smiled and confirmed to himself, “This is good. This will get lots of attention.”

         It was a pleasant little story, only 854 words long. It had a good introduction, it was well developed, and it had a little twist at the end. It was the kind of thing that seemed to grab the interest of the readers in the little writing community.

         He scrolled to the top of the story and decided to read through the material for one more edit before posting the contest entry. He reread a sentence mid-way through the story a number of times before choosing to change the verb and restructure the sentence. He polished and massaged the story until the little masterpiece sat before him in pristine condition.

         “That helped,” he thought. “There’s just not anything else that I can see that it needs.”

         Dan had been a member of the writing community for a little less than a year. The experience was a breath of fresh air. To say that he enjoyed the interaction with the other writers would be an understatement. His passion for writing had previously been only a small hole in the dike. The little dribble of water that had once trickled from his pen, or rather his laptop, now gushed forth like an open fire-hydrant. To further flame the fire of his passion were the reviews and ratings, which acted as high octane jet fuel thrown on an open flame.

         Within his portfolio were stored his creations. They were snuggled in the virtual folders like fine thoroughbreds in a stable. And, thoroughbreds they were. On a scale of 1.0 to 5.0, 4.5 was the predominant rating, with a handful of 5.0 scattered proudly among the group. His prized stable housed his Arabians. These were the ones given the highest praises and the most attention. Dan found great joy in walking up and down the stable greeting his prizes, stroking them and whispering his praises to them.

         “There, it’s ready now.”

         He pressed the enter button and the new creation was placed as a new item in his stable. All he had to do was post a link for it in the contest site and wait for the glowing responses. The new creation rested proudly in his stable among the other thoroughbreds, waiting on the inevitable 5.0 or lesser 4.5, of which it was obviously deserving.

         The waiting was the most difficult thing about being marvelously creative. The other writers were so apathetical. They were like shoppers milling through the second-hand bargain bin, where products were scattered and mixed nonchalantly and haphazardly. It never ceased to frustrate him to wait while his fellow authors handled and pawed his creations only to cast them aside unread and unrated. It was the few who stopped to read that thrilled his soul. They were the ones who helped him hone his craft and feed his ego. And so it was that Dan waited for the elusive attention of the random reader to caress his new creation and give it the proper attention that he knew it would eventually receive.

         His wait was not long. Within an hour of being placed in the stables with his thoroughbreds his newest creation received its first review. Eagerly, Dan poured over the crafted review that would give critical acclaim to the new creation.

         The review read: “I like this one, it moves at a nice pace and the ending really made me chuckle. The characters seem real and make the story very enjoyable...Great writing!”

         Dan smiled as he read the review.

         “This is good,” Dan thought to himself. “He likes it, he caught the twist at the ending, he says its ‘great writing’, and look at the exclamation point at the end.”

         Dan glanced at the rating line. “What!....4.0? How in the world can you call this’ great writing’ and then give it a 4.0? Oh, I know that 3.0 is average and this is sporting a rating much better than average. But look at that exclamation point. An exclamation point itself is worth a 4.5!

         The other thoroughbreds in the stable shuffled over a little to create a little space between them and the inferior nag.

         Dan rushed to console his newest creation and to affirm to the lot. “This is just one opinion. There will be other more sensitive and worthy reviewers. You will eventually be given your just acclaim and rightful status among the others.””

         Then a thought surfaced to Dan’s conscious mind. “What if it doesn’t? What if this is the best that is given? What if this little piece is destined to wear a 4.0 or even the unthinkable, something less?”

         From somewhere within the recesses of Dan’s mind a dialogue between reason and ego began to be exchanged.

         “The world will not end if this piece receives a 4.0 or less. And even if it does, it does not mean that it is not a worthy effort—something to be proud of.”

         “Yes, but it’s a 4.0,” Ego persisted.

         “So?” countered Reason.

         “Well, it’s a 4.0,” stammered Ego again, as if that statement meant something.

         “Did you enjoy writing the piece?” Reason patiently asked.

         “Of course I did.” Ego affirmed indignantly.

         “Did you do your best? You know, did you give it your all? Reason continued to build his case.

         “Well of course I did. And I see where you’re going with this. We both know you’re right. But I am Ego after all, and you can’t expect me to be reasonable.” It was the only straw that Ego had left. It was in fact more of a plea than an argument.

         Dan shook his head in an attempt to regain control of his consciousness. He decided again to give reason control and affirmed that a little ego is good, but should not rule the day. He was pleased with his effort that was given his creation and grateful for the attention given by the generous reader. He purposed to be content with whatever came his way in the form of reviews and ratings. Ego would always be present. But, Dan committed to let reason control.

         It was then that he noticed, “Hey, there’s something in my mailbox. I wonder…..?”