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| jeeeeohn United States. January 27 2012 03:51. Posts 882 | Profile Blog # |
This is part two of my unfinished, untitled short story. Part 1 can be found here: http://www.teamliquid.net/blogs/viewblog.php?id=306064. There will probably be 2 parts after this. As always, please tell me what you think in the polls or in the comments, thanks! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Henry didn't feel much like foraging, so he passed the afternoon posted against Market's crushed double-doors instead. Behind him, Homer was grunting and panting and toppling shelves down and kicking empty bins away. No one could remember what the dive was called, her signs ripped off in a flash flood of rioters and looters; and the fact that no one cared about naming things meant its name was Market, had always been Market, always would be Market. There wasn't much left, save the odd can-of-something shining in the rubble like a mirage in a desert. But Homer kept digging, smashing the collapsed block-long shelves into bits, a flashlight between his teeth.
"Hey, brother," he called in between breaths, "you want to help me? Maybe take a shift, or two shifts?" Without turning, Henry said, "Give me five." Homer laughed, "Well, I hope my pained sounds of labor are forming a nice orchestra for your daydreaming." He hammered the pickaxe into something, the crunching wood like bones breaking.
"Give me five, Homer. Just five minutes."
No answer except the crack, crack, crack, a thunderous metronome.
He stepped away until the sound was just an echo.
Why are we foraging? thought Henry. This is not necessary, not today, not when, come tomorrow, Homer and I and everyone else won't have any need for food, even water. Or oxygen. We could be sucking vacuum, starving to the bones, and it wouldn't make a difference. . .
He let his eyes drift across the horizon. It opened wide and swallowed Henry up and drowned him in a sea of amorphous color. There was no breaking the swell of the sky, the Earth's curve dipping behind the city. A faint light glimmered in the sun's haze, marking where their former brothers and sisters were looking down on them, each to one another a microscopic curiosity. Henry stared at it a hundred years. Maybe Homer was right. pondered Henry. We'll just lay here and watch them watching us watch them, every night as they pass us by, two sets of eyes that won't turn away from one another. Who can't turn away, for the life and death of them. . .
"Are you okay?"
The sky reeled away in a blue blur, and grimy and glass blasted Market flooded into Henry's vision. A creature, a subhuman, a thing was holding him by the shoulders, backlit by sunlight creeping through the cracking walls, fire in its mouth. "Henry, what's the matter?"
Homer. Homer was there; Homer was holding Henry steady. Henry wasn't listening. "The sky," he said, looking up at the grey dome of concrete, "skies of blue gone." He hadn't taken his eyes off the stations, and then, suddenly, he was here, standing next to Homer. They still burned in his retinas like little patterns of light. "Just sit down, brother." They sat. "Here, drink this." Henry drank, until the water spilled over his chin and pattered to the ground. "Now, Henry," Homer said, yanking the bottle away, "tell me what that little spell was about."
Henry said, "I don't know. I was outside, looking up, then I was here, looking at you. I must be dehydrated."
"You must be. Tell me something: where did you go last night? I know you have your dives and nooks and crannies, but you've never told me where they are. I even followed you once. . .don't look at me like that. I was worried. But I lost you. And when I came back to my place, brother, there you were, waiting like a lost kitten."
Henry opened his mouth, but he couldn't summon any words. The memories had all wound together like a knotted rope, end over end, the links in his brain a jumbled, frayed mess; he only felt a pressure at the base of his neck, a fire at his forehead. "This morning. . ." he began, "This morning I gave a homeless man a dollar." Homer scoffed, "Why, brother of mine? Who uses money?"
Henry shook his head, "It just seemed. . .definable. Like there was clear purpose to it: there's a man with a guitar case, and me with a dollar, and it seemed the natural order of things to drop the dollar into that case and walk away. It made all the sense in the world, and nothing could be crystal clearer."
"Poor brother," laughed Homer, "the world of the natural order is gone. It blasted off into space, and orbits around us being all 'definitively definitive'. But fear not, for when tomorrow passes, that kingdom will descend and return in a symphony of bureaucracy! You just have to hang on for one more day, alright?"
Henry nodded. His skull felt like bursting from the temples. And, worst, Homer didn't understand. As they left Market to the rot and vines and dust, Henry heard the echo of crack, crack, crack, shatter the unbroken horizon. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alright, hope you enjoyed part 2. Please tell me what you think.
Poll: Good or bad or what?Good (1) 50% In Between (1) 50% Bad (0) 0% 2 total votes Your vote: Good or bad or what? (Vote): Good (Vote): Bad (Vote): In Between
Poll: Understand what's happening?Yes (1) 50% Maybe? (1) 50% No (0) 0% 2 total votes Your vote: Understand what's happening? (Vote): Yes (Vote): No (Vote): Maybe?
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| | "Never forget the Cheer Cannon." (MLG Orlando, 2011) IdrA / HuK / INcontroL, On November 17 2011 07:41 iNcontroL wrote:[i]The pleasure was all mine[/i] / BoxeR / Ret / Stephano ("Napoleon") / Machine / Artosis: I am not a doctor. (Dreamhack Winter 2011) |
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| Akta January 27 2012 04:32. Posts 447 | Profile # |
Just look at any of my posts on TL, I'm a horrible writer so don't take me too seriously.
Some things that popped up:
1)I tried to read both but there doesn't seem to be anything interesting enough to get me hooked quickly.
2)Books and movies generally seem to plant(usually strong) images of the characters before much actions happens. I don't feel I know anything about these people so their conversations don't feel very interesting to me.
3)I can't put my finger on if it's too much transportation between actual events or if the mix of describing the environment and the story that isn't working well for me, or maybe something else. It just doesn't seem to stick easily or whatever, I re-read a couple of parts 2-3 times. |
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| Fishgle United States. January 27 2012 07:56. Posts 1602 | Profile Blog # |
I like this part much more than the first. The dialogue is totally unrealistic though. I can't imagine anyone saying,
"the world of the natural order is gone. It blasted off into space, and orbits around us being all 'definitively definitive'. But fear not, for when tomorrow passes, that kingdom will descend and return in a symphony of bureaucracy! "
especially in a setting where everything is dead, such eloquent speech is jarring.
Overall i think it's really nice, cept it comes off as a little try-hard. You throw in a few too many metaphors, and the whole thing has an air of philosophy. try adding a little more detail to the setting. Stupid, random, and pointless little details are what make a setting interesting. Even if it is just a Market, details are nice. For example, instead of saying that they sometimes find a "can-of-something," how about they find a can of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup. it's pointless, yea. but it gives a concrete image rather than a vague something or other.
overall, nice work! looking forward to the next part. |
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| Mr. Black United States. January 27 2012 08:25. Posts 409 | Profile Blog # |
If this is a mystery story I think you are on the right track--as in-- if the reader is supposed to be wondering what's going on.
To me it seems like the plot is this: 1. Some long past war has ravaged Earth and made ruins of civilization (yellowing newspapers/vines and dust covering everything/foraging etc.). 2. A large percentage of the survivors have abandoned earth to space stations (I believe located on the moon--because they "always face us every night," etc.) 3. They left because they believe something horrible is supposed to happen tomorrow. Homer does not believe it or is in denial. The homeless man believes and has accepted it. Henry believes and is having trouble dealing the stress of the coming crisis. Perhaps he has inside knowledge or was involved in setting the crisis in motion?
The way you describe the "Cracks" at the end make it unclear whether the cracking is Homer with the pickaxe or something in the air in general that is related to "tomorrow's events."
You tell me whether I understand what's happening.
Soooooo....is it good? That depends on how it ends. You have set up a mystery event that has divided the world into at least two faction and implied that "tomorrow" something that everyone but Homer believes will be the end of the world is happening. If the end is something inconclusive that the reader has to draw their own conclusions as to what actually happened, I'd be disappointed and think it was a let down. If there is a really cool climax and resolution it could be awesome.
Your characters are very skeletal. This is fine (at least in conceptual sci-fi), but that makes your central concept very important. In other words, if I am supposed to care about these characters now (i.e. before anything has happended to them) then you have revising to do. If, however, these characters are basically there to facilitate the plot or the "big idea," I think you are ok as long as you know where you are going.
Also (and this is based only on my own experiences--and I am no great success), I don't think it's a good idea to show others your work (or even tell them the idea) until you have a finished draft. What if I was to say, "This is terrible, you need to put some tits in there."? My point is that you should write to please yourself first (or write targeted at a specific person you know very well). Otherwise, other people's feedback will pollute your process. I think you have a better chance of developing a "voice" if you do this. Plus, people will have more insight in reviewing a completed work.
This is getting long, but let me share a quick story. I once knew a songwriter who decided he was gong to write a novel and post it on Myspace one page at a time (this was obviously several years ago). Page one started something along the lines of, "I don't really know what I want to write about, but I guess we'll find out together." I don't think he got beyond page two. To me, he was basically saying, "Whatever comes off the top of my head at any given time is brilliant enough that you need to read it, and let me know how awesome it is."
I'm not comparing you to that guy, just showing that it's hard to evaluate a piece of a greater whole without the rest. And to say that that guy got on my nerves quite often :D
I look forward to seeing where you are going with this. |
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| jeeeeohn United States. January 28 2012 07:05. Posts 882 | Profile Blog # |
Thanks guys, great feedback.  |
| | "Never forget the Cheer Cannon." (MLG Orlando, 2011) IdrA / HuK / INcontroL, On November 17 2011 07:41 iNcontroL wrote:[i]The pleasure was all mine[/i] / BoxeR / Ret / Stephano ("Napoleon") / Machine / Artosis: I am not a doctor. (Dreamhack Winter 2011) |
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| Mr. Black United States. February 03 2012 06:01. Posts 409 | Profile Blog # |
| Was I right about what's happening? (It's a good sign that I came back to check, right?) |
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