JP Wagner

I could use some opinions on this one. I know that it has alot of dialogue, but it's the type of story where too much description gives too much away. I could use all the opinions I can get on this one, since its sort of in between genres.

thanks in advance!
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What’s he doing in there? A voice asked.
He’s talking. Another replied.
Again?
Again.
“Bobby?” a soft voice asked. “Bobby?!” the voice got louder. “Bobby!” he slammed his fist against the door. “Bobby! Bobby! Bobby!”
“What?!” another, harsher voice screamed.
“Hi,” the frantic, softer voice replied.
“What do you want now?”
“To talk.”
“You always want to talk, George!”
“How’ve you been?”
“I don’t feel like talking now.”
“Please, don’t go!” George screamed falling to his knees. “Don’t go! Don’t leave me!” his fists hit the floor.
Should we do something?
No, he’s fine. He does this all the time.
“Fine, George, I’ll stay.”
“Oh, Bobby, thank you!”
“Please, don’t mention it.”
“I’m scared, Bobby.”
“Of what?”
“It’s dark!”
“That happens sometimes, George.”
“Not like this!”
“Dark is dark, George.”
“I hate it!”
“It’s supposed to be calming, that’s why we go to sleep when it’s dark.”
George reached into the air, swiping his arms against the empty air. “Just makes me wonder what’s there that I can’t see!”
How pathetic!
Don’t be like that.
Just look at him!
You sound like a bully.
“Hey Bobby?” George asked.
“What is it now?”
“Did you ever read Beowulf?” There was a silence. “Bobby?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Really? But we read it in English Honors, back in tenth grade!”
“I wasn’t in English honors, George!”
“No…you were…I was there, you must have been!”
“We didn’t know each other back then!”
“I could have sworn you were in that class.”
“Well, you swore wrong.”
George sighed. “Oh well, would have been nice to talk about it.”
“Like you’re not going to talk about it anyway?” Bobby sneered.
“It’d be nice if you read it first.”
“How? There aren’t any books here!”
“Anything I’ve read, you can read too! I’m no better than you are.”
“No, you definitely aren’t,” Bobby muttered.
“I’ve read it! So I’m sure you’ve read it, somehow, somewhere, it’s in the back of your mind.”
“No it isn’t!”
“Think harder! Try to remember!”
There was a pause. “Is that the story about the guy in the great hall, who kills that monster?”
“Yes! That’s the one! I knew you read it! Of course you did!”
“I guess I must have heard about it at some point, that’s all.”
“Well, what else do you remember about it?”
“Not much.”
“Come on! I wanna talk about it!”
What a nerd!
Oh come on, like you’ve never read a book?
I don’t cream myself over them!
“You know what else I liked about Beowulf?” George asked.
“What?”
“He always did what he set out to do. No matter the challenge, he came through in the end!”
“How impressive.”
“When he fought that monster, I couldn’t sit still!” George got up and swung his empty hands through the air, mimicking the motion of a sword.
Look at him! Look what he’s doing! Is he having an episode?
He’s just having fun!
Like that?!
Yes, like that! Calm down already! You’d think you have nothing better to do than make fun of this guy.
After a few moments of imaginary swordplay, George took a deep breath and sat back against the door. “And for everything he did, he was loved by all.”
“Of course he was,” Bobby replied. “Just like all unrealistic heroes are.”
“But you know, at the end, when he fought with the dragon all those years later…his entire team left him to battle alone. No one helped him…no one.”
“That’s not true, that lowly guy--that squire or something, he helped him.”
“Aha! So you do remember the story!”
“Eat me.”
George laughed. “That’s right. There was one, only one, who stayed with him. I guess that’s the mark of a true friend.”
“Or a guy who knew that in doing so, he’d be named the next king.”
George was silent for a moment. “…maybe.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter much.”
“Hey, Bobby?”
“Yeah, George?”
“Why’d you do that thing, all those years ago?”
“How many times do I have to tell you, George? I didn’t do that thing, you did!”
“I did not!”
“Whatever.”
Is he talking about what I think he’s talking about?
Of course he is.
“You want to go for a walk, Bobby?” George asked.
“In the dark?”
“You said yourself, there’s nothing to be afraid of in the dark. Besides, walking and talking will make me less afraid!”
“Heck, I’ve got nothing better to do.”
“Thanks.”
At least following them won’t be too hard, eh?
Shut up.
“Did you ever read Of Mice and Men?”
“Oh god, not again with this English Honors stuff!”
“This wasn’t! Every English class read it!”
“I didn’t take English at all, George.”
“Really? I thought it was a requirement for everyone for at least the first three years.”
“Well, it wasn’t for me.”
“Were you in one of those special programs?”
“Something along those lines,” Bobby said as they kept walking.
“Well, you don’t know what you’re missing—it was a great book.”
“You say that about every book.”
“But I mean it about this one,” George said whole-heartedly. “And the main character’s name was George too!”
“Well, that would do it.”
“Of course it would!”
What a loser.
Will you stop it?
“And what did you like about this book?” Bobby asked.
“You mean you want to hear?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“I don’t even know where to begin, but there are these two guys, George and Lenny, and they’re migrant workers. They walk all over the place—kinda like you and me.”
“Really? I don’t ever think we get too far in our walks.”
“Anyway, these guys are partners. Lenny is kind of, well, simple, but George looks out for him--even though most would consider Lenny a burden.”
“Sounds fun,” Bobby sneered.
“It wasn’t though. Lenny actually got George into a lot of trouble, lost him a lot of jobs, but George was still there for him anyway!”
“Why?”
“Everyone needs someone, Bobby.”
“I guess.”
“George said it himself! ‘A man goes nuts if he ain’t got nobody. Doesn’t matter who the guy is so long as he’s with you. I tell yah, when a man’s alone he gets sick.’”
“You’re already sick, what do you need me for?”
“Don’t go!”
“Oh, right, like I actually can go anywhere.”
“Hey, Bobby?”
“Yeah, George?”
“Why’d you do that thing you did, all those years ago?”
“God dammit George!”
“I want to know!”
“First of all, George, it wasn’t all those years ago, it wasn’t that long ago at all! Second George, it wasn’t me who did it! It was you and you alone!”
George stopped walking. “I thought you were going to tell me that it wasn’t your fault--that you were only sticking up for yourself.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“If you did do that thing, would you?”
“If I had done it, then yes, I would say it wasn’t my fault. But I didn’t do it, you did, so tell that to yourself!”
“Lenny died at the end though.”
A moment passed before the silence broke. “What?”
“George killed him.”
Bobby was silent for a moment. “Cheerful.”
“George had to though! It was a mercy killing!”
“Whatever makes you sleep at night.”
“I miss her, you know.”
“Who?”
“Cheryl.”
Who’s that?
That’s the girl.
Oh brother, what a stalker!
“She was always nice to me…”
“Only when no one else was around, dude! When she was with them, she laughed just as loud!”
“It wasn’t her fault. She had to keep up appearances.”
“Well, she did a mighty good job of that, if you ask me.”
“She couldn’t help it, she was in love with me, really, she was.”
Just listen to the kid! He’s pathetic!
I’m going to hit you, if you don’t shut up!
“I don’t recall her ever saying anything like that, George.”
“She didn’t say it, but you could tell. She always wanted to talk to me, about books, and she was learning Latin!”
“She was probably just using you as a tutor without you knowing it.”
George looked away. “I’m tired, I want to sleep now…”
“There’s a bed ready and waiting for you,” Bobby replied. “But you’re the one who wanted to walk and talk, so don’t change the subject!”
“So what if she wanted me to tutor her? It was refreshing to have someone who wanted to learn around for once! And she couldn’t trust any of her friends, or her boyfriend with the fact that she wanted to learn all the things she did! She needed me! She needed someone to depend on to support what she really wanted—who she really was!”
“And yet, where is she now?” Bobby asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Sure you do, she’s with them!”
“She is not!”
“I’m right here,” another voice chimed in.
They both stopped walking. “Who was that?” Bobby asked looking in every direction in the dark.
“Cheryl!” George screamed.
“George! I’m right here!”
“Where did you come from?” George asked.
“I’ve always been here, for you, waiting for you,” Cheryl replied.
“Oh get over it, George!” Bobby screamed.
George ignored him. “I’m sorry, Cheryl.”
“What for, George?”
“For what I did.”
“That’s alright, George. He had it coming anyway.”
“I thought you loved him!” Bobby screamed. Neither acknowledged his presence.
“Still, I didn’t have to do what I did,” George continued.
“You had no choice. And besides, you set me free! I was trapped, George! Being with him with those people—I was never happy.”
“That’s a bald-faced lie if I ever heard one in my life!” Bobby yelled.
Should we go in?
Not just yet.
How much longer? He’s losing it!
Not much.
“I knew it, Cheryl! I knew you loved me! I knew you always did!”
“Of course I did, George. I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I--”
“Don’t say it, Cheryl.”
“Oh please do say it!” Bobby screamed. “If he’s going to fantasize about you, it might as well be the real you!”
“Thank you, George, for all your help.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Not just for the Math, and the Latin, and the Chemistry, or rehearsing my lines with me for the play, but just for being you.”
“It was my pleasure. You’re going to get into an Ivy-League school no doubt. You’ll go onto great things, just like your parents wanted you to.”
“And I have you to thank for that.”
“I love you!” George screamed.
“I love you too!” she replied.
George threw his arms in a circle in the air, and moved his face towards his own hands.
“Snap out of it!” Bobby screamed. “That is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever seen!”
Is he still stuck on her?
Didn’t you ever take psychology? He feels guilty, and he wants her forgiveness.
He’s a psycho.
He was in love.
He was obsessed!
She used him.
Everyone gets used! You think I never wanted to smash someone’s head in for being used and manipulated?
Oh, I’m sure you have wanted to, plenty of times.
“You’re imagining it all, George!” Bobby screamed. “It’s not real! None of it! You’re talking to yourself!”
“She needed me!” George screamed, falling hard to his knees. “I’m telling you, I freed her!”
“She got what she wanted and let you rot where you are! The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can get on with your life!”
“I needed her!”
“What the hell do you need her for?” Bobby asked. “You have me!”
George looked up in the darkness. “I don’t! I don’t have you! I never did!” with a scream, and a groan he laid on the floor, rolling back and forth, fast at first, then slower. Every slam of his fist towards the floor was repelled slightly, every kick to the wall was absorbed partly.
The door opened, and the bully and his friend found their way to George.
“No! Leave me alone! Go away!” he felt their hands grasping him. “No! Let me go! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you both! Bobby! Help me, Bobby!” there was no response. There was a sharp pain in his leg. “You stabbed me!” he screamed with a struggle. His kicks and punches grew weaker. “I am the cheese…” he muttered as his eyes closed. “I am the cheese.”
“I am the cheese?” The bully scoffed as he lifted George from the ground.
His friend, taking the feet, sighed and shook his head. “It’s another book quote—you don’t read much, do you?”

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Quoth The Raven "Nevermore"

edropus

I didn't have time to read this just now, but I strongly suggest you edit this and increase the font size back up to normal.

And, maybe, even separate every dozen lines or so with a paragraph, just for the ease of the reader.

Assuming it's at least made larger, I look forward to giving it a look when I have more time.

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JP Wagner

well, it wouldn't fit in there with the normal size
that's why i made it smaller.

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Quoth The Raven "Nevermore"

dilkara

I've read about a third of it. I really like the characters from what I've read. They're coming across strong through the dialogue and the thoughts of Bobby. I'd like to read the rest but I just can't get my eyes to follow the structure any longer.

Sam Winchester

I couldn't get into it, JP. It's all dialogue, mate. You gotta mix dialogue up with prose every now and again or you'll have a movie script on your hands. I remember that my first novel was entirely like this page here. Just page after page of dialogue, no description, no clean prose.

Take a look at one of your favourite authors' best books and give it a good read. Notice how dialogue is usually always interspersed with prose? A novel without prose isn't a novel. It's a movie script.

Hope this helps.

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JP Wagner

see, the problem with that theory though is, it doesn't account for short pieces where the entire action is in a character's head. if you read the piece till the end, you would have seen my conundrum. It's harder to put more description in a piece like this without giving away stuff.

my problem is, i don't really follow strick guidlines for rules of a story like that. i say the story itself is how you measure something. i dont check "is there x amount of narrative, x amount of dialogue, this many characters, this many of this that blah blah" because when you do that you take away from what you are trying to do. writing a story is like forging a sword, people can tell you what tools to use, or how to temper it, but it's the end product that's important. i don't know if you couldn't get into it because the story itself was off, or just because you had a predisposition against too much dialogue. (and i know that some editors will have such a predisposition too)

don't get me wrong, I'm not saying the end result here is a good one, which is why I'm asking opinions in the first place. but I would at least want a fair trial, without the strick predisposed rules about "what makes a story" because that definition changes every couple of years. back in the day, before movie scripts existed, all dialogue was a story. back with the oral tradition, epic poems were stories, prose didn't even exist.

this is my problem with the literary jargan of today, and I'm not trying to be unfair or insulting to anyone, but people spend alot more time checking a story for their check lists of qualifications rather than just reading a story to see if they like it. it makes our entire generation of writing kinda dim in the scheme of things.

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Quoth The Raven "Nevermore"

Sam Winchester

Dialogue is not a story. A story is prose. Dialogue that happens between two characters does not constitute a story. That was my point. It has nothing to do with guidelines or anything else. You will not lift a novel off a shelf today and see endless pages of dialogue.

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Don't unlock doors you're not prepared to go through.

JP Wagner

lol, i dunno man. u ever see any of the epistolary form thats done in instant messaging form? like "ttyl" or "ttfn"? or the genre that followed them? that's all dialogue, in a sense with instant message captions.

and what about epistolary form all together? that's just letters.


and also, this is a short story. novels and short stories, two entirely different things.

I do appreciate your commenting, I'm not trying to sound not gracious here, I really appreciate that you would take the time to comment. And I am happy to hear your opinion. I jsut happen to think that you can't have steadfast rules about writing, when the genre itself evolves from generation to generation.

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Quoth The Raven "Nevermore"

Triquediqual

I agree with the OP's above. There's no excuse for that and don't ever try to make one either. Just try and add some prose, and it will read much better.

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JP Wagner

well, I was the OP, so i think you mean you agree with him.

For the record, I do intent to attempt to add more description (without giving too much of the plot away) so the points being made to me aren't falling on deaf ears. However, I get the extreme sense tha the point I'm making about no steadfast unbreakable rules is falling on alot of deaf ears.

story:1. An account or recital of an event or a series of events, either true or fictitious,

recital of events no where says description. retelling what two people said is still a recount, or recital, and therefore still a story.

what woul dbe better to say, to try to make the point about dialogue is;

"for what in demmand in literature now, stories require more actual narrative and description, very few people like a piece that is all dialogue, unless you are in the movie business" instead of "that's not a story, story is THIS"

people have been debating about what a story is for quite awhile now. the fact that no one has put their finger on it exactly is one of the main reasons it's still so popular. someone once said "if you could figure out the formula for making a good short story, then the genre would be as dead as the sonnet."

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Quoth The Raven "Nevermore"

edropus

I'd agree that an all-dialogue piece is still a story. I'd just warn against going this route for anything longer than a couple thousand words.

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sylvia.cheers

I can't believe how hard a time everyone's giving you! Yes, there are traditional forms but good writers can sometimes afford the luxury to break the mold and make something great. This was one such time!

I loved it. I thought it was new and inspired. It didn't read to me like the ramblings of an amateur who doesn't understand the usual structure of a story, but rather of someone who knows enough to go beyond it and into experimentation. Well done.

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