unfeatured

So these are the beginnings of 2 chapters from my novel. I have a lot of other stuff done but do not want to become overwhelmed with hearing feedback on all of it at once so I will do sections at a time. Please give honest, constructive feedback.


The weather outside was usual in its pertinent awakening of the day that came to find her company. Misery confounded and compounded annually with interest in life and all those things that she lived for. Expecting to be something cool was unnecessary to rule this place where hope was slowly disintegrating. She went too the restaurant at quarter till three with the sun shining brightly for the accompaniment of organization. Unable to conjure up the disembodies reduction of the fate that caused the day to pass and become a new beginning. It was clear to everyone that it was the end of what seemed to be the happiness that kept her grin so wide. Everybody wandered what the end would bring as she ordered what she thought to be some coffee. She scanned the menu with great intent as she hoped to gather lost intentions of life and love. Eating alone was a lonely thing to do; it was hard to imagine what construed loneliness could eventually mean. She began to realize that she was so lonely; she didn’t even want to be with herself. She despised the pity she felt for herself and the pretentious ambiguity she had long been feeling. It was inevitable that her journey to self discovery would be cut short by the pieces of life that came to her doorstep. As time passed in the seemingly deserted café, she grew in comfort as she wasted away at the footsteps of her black coffee. Realizing how much time had passed, it had gone cold and bitter. She reflected back upon the continuum that she called home and her life and the constant, but inevitable constants in time that she called days. The days all blended and blurred now and just like her coffee, she had become cold and bitter. About what, was unknown to her. She had nobody, cared about little, and was nonchalant about her work which she used to approach with such passion and vigor. She was a long cry from the eager college student and closer to the lonely girl who had become a readied shadow of what accompanied her. The shadow followed her everywhere and kept her ability tame. Her personality was tainted by the everyday life that now seemed unavoidable, unbeatable, and foreboding. It was all the same to her in what seemed a twist of fate to become so engrossed in life. She had contemplated a change in occupation or to go shopping or to find someone worthwhile but it never worked out. It was always too hard, or too intense for her to overcome and too much to encounter to experience what she thought to be free lived joy or depression. That evening marked the night she would never forget or remember. She walked down the street from the café late and alone, as always. In passing a hotel, a limo arrived escorted and surrounded with security guards. They ushered out an assumed important figure who was dressed in a back tuxedo and he appeared to be around 50 or maybe even 60, plastic surgery can knock years off your appearance, and your life expectancy, or so Alecia thought. She kept walking unthawed by his presence; she had something to say and finally her determination rose from the ashes and took full plight as words emerged. She began asking questions, questions that everyone was surely sharing in their own belief. Security warned her once and then again as she approached him further. People began to pause and look into what was happening. A crowd began to congregate as Alecia approached the substantial figure. Security warned that it would be her final warning, but she failed to listen. She kept asking and her voice’s volume began louder and even more assured as she echoed the crowds’ opinions. They began to circle the figure now as Alecia kept plugging questions away, He looked at her and refused to say anything. She grew in confidence as the surrounding crowd began yelling with approval and a hostile support soon emerged. Security began more and more peeved at her relentless nature and approached Alecia, but he tried to maintain his diplomacy and tried his best to give a good impression. She wouldn’t back down and now in his face she pulled up a hand and it decked his face as she screamed years of agony and silence away. She hollered and stood taller than ever, staring him in the eye as he became less and less safe. Security called in more security to protect everyone but her, they were against her, and they were the non supporters, the hopeless souls that would find little comfort in the near future. Beaten down by the burning and scheming eyes, she hoped to try less, but with the wince of agony, she only beckoned the non supporters to try this.

"Lend Me A Future"
Once more the day seemed gone and near Sunday, the day of rest she was told, time to relax and think, about one’s future. She woke to a siren of the new neighborhood, children on the bikes, playing and having fun. She woke that morning with something to say, but nobody to say to, just to say. Her legs glided down the stairs as her feet never hit the bottom; they just floated and drifted in there. Approaching the bottom, she began to reach a feeling of reality, grasping the floor between her toes. The cool of the floor carried through her body to her brain to produce a feeling of fear. The television was on, a man dressed well, the MAN seemed bold enough, and too care-free. Freedom seemed closer as she looked outside, so few houses, and few rules to abide by, except to not exceed the speed limit. The sun beamed quickly and slowly as it rose in the horizon, she could almost see her end to what seemed unwell. She went online to check her bank account, bankrupt on air, she was starting to grasp for some attention. Almost on empty she was starting lose the little energy that remained and will to live. A woman on the street helping a struggling child was hit by a bus; an innocent bystander goes to jail, and the uncharged criminal dies the next day; a child in the hospital who since he was six, in intensive care, his longs crumbling, his mother’s next door with cancer, she dies and he lives to smoke some more. Have succumb to life’s reality, Alecia realized that there was one person who could help and then destroy her. Having discovered the honest ways of life, she uncovered that in order to be successful, borrowing was the only option to ensure complete irresponsibility for one’s actions and therefore foolproof. It wasn’t to ask for help, not for anyone, but for Alecia it especially wasn’t easy to ask for the help of someone she despised for years, but had to go to as a last resort to try and salvage the little bit of insanity that the world was left with. To find the resources that were absurd was longer easy, to find the loser, to find the runaway was no longer easy, there were hardly any people left except for the mirror image of one and HE was the one she had to find to ask for explicit permission to be insane. She finds that she simply isn’t good enough to achieve his status, and that his education surpasses her and that HE makes more money in a week than she does in a day. And HE is consuming her life as she fills her thoughts of him to make a more creative future for herself, but nobody was listening because nobody cared. Maybe if everyone cared, the world would be a good place, and we would face the unfortunate reality that in order to be perfect, something must be completely destroyed and then and only then, is its perfection realized. Alecia frowned in the face of authority; not because she was upset but because of the smell of success, it was all too unfamiliar.
Walking down the street, she saw clowns all dressed ridiculously the same, wearing suits, even the women dressed the same, with hair longer than their ears so they could not hear what was happening. As Alecia passed, they all avoided her; she might well have been the devil for all they knew, and even though society demanded kindness, they more demanded equality, and Alecia was threatening. With her life for rent and available, she found that nobody wanted to buy and neither did she; there was nothing appealing about it and therefore it was completely undesirable. As the days closed and opened, the sun rose and fell, and the time repeated itself again and again, she found an unbearable relentless pattern that left her speechless. The unyielding context of this walk home was endearing and somewhat different than ever before. For the first time, people scolded her and mocked her and taunted her and threw things at her. She was no longer invisible. She was no longer unknown, everyone knew her, the girl who couldn’t afford her own opinion. She turned with haste to the crowd and knew ignorance is bliss. What she couldn’t buy, she couldn’t afford; she couldn’t afford because she was in debt and it was hard to get a loan. She beckoned, pleaded that someone soon lends her a future.

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What's Up novel coming soon.
Loop Hole novel coming soon.

"Lonely" poem availbale now.

sticklefidds

I'm afraid that much of this is incomprehensible to me. Examples are underlined.

The weather outside was usual in its pertinent awakening of the day that came to find her company. Misery confounded and compounded annually with interest in life and all those things that she lived for. Expecting to be something cool was unnecessary to rule this place where hope was slowly disintegrating. She went too the restaurant at quarter till three with the sun shining brightly for the accompaniment of organization. Unable to conjure up the disembodies reduction of the fate that caused the day to pass and become a new beginning.

It may be just my own inability to figure out what's happening from a style that strives to be startling or poetical or indicative of some inner turmoil. Perhaps others will understand better. There's an interesting character in there somewhere, but she's having a struggle to be seen...

sixlivesdown

To be perfectly honest, I didn't make it past the first six or so sentences. It's like you're deliberately trying to make it difficult to read, or at least largely incomprehensible, and that's not a style that's going to get you anywhere, publishing-wise (if that's your goal, that is).

Take the first sentence:



I have very little idea of what that actually means. As far as I can tell, you're saying that the weather was the same as always. But I might be wrong there.

The next two sentences have internal rhyme, which made me read them in a sing-song way, which I find irritating, but that's a personal thing.

Next sentence:

Firstly, it's "to" the restaurant. And what in all that's good does "the accompaniment of organization" mean?


This is a fragment, and also makes not even the slightest bit of sense.


So, the END of happiness made her smile? Uh...yeah.

And that's where I stopped reading, because I suspected that it wasn't going to get any better from there.

What I think is going on here is that you're trying to adopt a pretentious writing style, or to make yourself seem more intelligent through using convoluted turns of phrase, that in actuality, make little sense. I've read Pynchon that makes more sense. My advice is to cut down on the flowery language and just tell your story. Or, if it's not the "story" kind of story, to at least make it slightly more readable.

Reese

I agree with the above poster. Somewhere in there are clear thoughts that are trying to say something. I can see a bit of your stream of consciousness writing in there, and it can work, if done well. Maybe write slower and reread sentences after you've put them down. There are so many metaphores in your writing, that they obscure the fundamental meaning of what you're trying to say.

Examples:

"As time passed in the seemingly deserted café, she grew in comfort as she wasted away at the footsteps of her black coffee."

Take out seemingly, it either is or isn't deserted. And I'm not sure what wasting away at the footsteps of black coffee means.

"She kept walking unthawed by his presence; she had something to say and finally her determination rose from the ashes and took full plight as words emerged."

What in the previous lines suggested that she was frozen in the first place? I didn't sense any type of rigidity in her demeanor or mindset. Taking full plight doesn't make sense, maybe took full flight.

"She was a long cry from the eager college student and closer to the lonely girl who had become a readied shadow of what accompanied her."

This sentence has a lot information in it.Reworded, it would illustrate the idea better. Maybe... "No longer an eager college girl, she had turned inward, walking in the shadow of her...." whatever it is that is accompanying her, I'm not clear on that.

Overall it's an interesting piece of work. Just needs a bit of clarity. Good luck!

unfeatured

Hmm...I'm not really sure how to edit it. It's not me trying to sound intelligent, that's the way my mind works. I didn't sit down and want to write something "smart", I wanted to write something people would read and ofcourse they would not understand everything, but in hopes of just having the reader except it for what is. The style is a metaphor to life. Not everything will make sense, but we have to accept it because life does not edit itself to make it more comprehensible.

Thanks for the honest feedback, I see I do need some changes. Sorry to the poster who found the internal rhyme. Unfortunately, that is my style and the same rhyme appears through the whole novel, especially the last chapter.

Maybe part of the problem is it's being read out of context and with the rest of the surroundings, people would gain a better, clearer understanding. If anyone does want to read more of the surroundings, I will make them available? Just let me know. I really want to improve this to be published.

__________________
What's Up novel coming soon.
Loop Hole novel coming soon.

"Lonely" poem availbale now.

unfeatured

The weather outside was usual in its pertinent awakening of the day that came to find her company

This means that the day came in relevance, meaning not at 12:00 am but instead at a typical morning time like 8:00 am. The day starts at 12 but the relevant day starts for Alecia at 8:00 because that is when she isnt sleep and is "living"

Misery confounded and compounded annually with interest in life and all those things that she lived for

It's a metaphor to financing. Compounding interest is when interest is multiplied and being confounded is being confused so....Alecia is confused and her interest in life and becoming aware is being multiplied.

Expecting to be something cool was unnecessary to rule this place where hope was slowly disintegrating

Expectations of being someone you are not is unnecessary to be aware in the place she is living.

She went too the restaurant at quarter till three with the sun shining brightly for the accompaniment of organization

A metaphor to describe how the sun highlights people on the sidewalks and the employees and life in general going on in its typical pattern or organization.

Unable to conjure up the disembodies reduction of the fate that caused the day to pass and become a new beginning.

Disembody means to free so this means that she was unable to free herself from resolving to the idea, or concentration, that fate would come and eventually she would die and life would still go on with new beginnings.

It was clear to everyone that it was the end of what seemed to be the happiness that kept her grin so wide.

This uses inverted sentence structure to get across the point that happiness in her eyes is different from happiness in others, so what they think is the end is to her the beginning of something so she smiles.

hope this clears up some things. i know exactly what I am saying and it's written from my heart the way my mind thinks.

__________________
What's Up novel coming soon.
Loop Hole novel coming soon.

"Lonely" poem availbale now.

Rahvin

I haven't actually read the thing all through, but I have to say those metaphors, etc, that you just explained in you last post are just a bit over-elaborate. There's one thing for trying to get a point over, but another for purposely trying to confuse the reader. You may know what you're saying but it takes some work for everyone else to decipher. It's not conductive to writing successfully. Honest.

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Kyrie

I think you're trying to "show" too much and not "telling" anything. It's really no use to try to publish it if no one will understand it, at least that's my opinion.

This part for example, I think it's too early in the story to start describing the way the character lives in metaphors, I don't even know who the character is. I can't give you a good example on how to start, but I'm sure someone else can.

Good Luck~

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Cran

unfeatured, if that's the way your mind works, then I'd venture that your mind was impressed with some pretentious writing ... yes, pretentious writing sometimes gets published; it caters to those readers who are easily impressed by it ...

one of the reasons we write is to explore the incomprehensibilities of life, and by doing so, we strive to make some aspect more understandable to ourselves and others ...

there are some good ideas and statements within your example extracts, but they are mired in what appears to be half abstract poetry written as prose without format ...

I can see from your first reply that you understand the concept of paragraphs - they would go a long way to improving the readability of your text ...

a small quote from your second piece pretty well sums it up for me:

Quote:

she found an unbearable relentless pattern

__________________
"I don't know ... I'm making it up as I go ..." - Dr I Jones

Nature abhors perfection - cats abhor a vacuum!

unfeatured

Okay, I think I have a better understanding of what I need to do.
By the way, this is not the first chapter. These 2 are actually near the end, the beginnings of Chapter18 and 19.
You guys are brutal! lol but I love it and will work to improve this and hopefully get some more feedback. Again, I'm being honest when I say that I sit down and write without thinking about how it sounds, maybe that's why some of it sounds odd but it's not written to be "smart". It was written in hopes of getting across a strong point about life maybe. Here are two of the beginnings of an early chapter in the story and then one closer to the two above. They are hopefully more easily understood. As the story goes on, a lot more symbolism and metaphors come into play so maybe that is causing confusion because I am thinking in terms of a whole story and you guys only see a part. maybe I should post the prologue at some point if it is all still beyond comprehension. I'm getting such mixed views on this story so I do admit I'm a little confused.

Chapter 2: The Telemarketer
What’s Up
5 a.m. and the phone rings, a marketer she’s told, trying to sell something. She called her the real name, nobody does that, must be a fraud or a long lost friend. She drifted mentally hearing, not listening, trying to think of anything but she hangs up to a stalling dial tone, she bought new shoes, and a new cell phone, nothing she knew, just a waste of money. The apartment was small, cramped, and worn, and like the walls, her heart was torn, so ripped. She looked for the key to lock her door; she hadn’t been outside for 6 years, or more, too scared. The key not found, nothing to protect, she cried a tear, felt some regret and fell. Falling to the floor was a routine, she pounded and she cursed so sweetly to sleep. She found the picture of her gone friend, lived and dreamed of the day over again and perished. Her soul haunts many and to this day, the key can’t be found, but none knows she’s gone. When asked, the neighbors say she never came out; the apartment’s been abandoned for years until now. She has no family and no friends, just the ones who telemarket and only pretend. The phone still rings, the bills aren’t paid, mailing notices, now betrayed, no leader. This would be the end or so I’m told that this girl had no name, but nobody knows her well. To my surprise, she was loved, but they all died under the sun a while ago. I wander there now to see what is left, a note, a letter, a simple address I need. I’ve been writing her for years and years, but only through e-mail, now I fear it’s too late. See at 4:58 a.m., she called me trying only to sell me something. She told me she was about to cash in with my brand new phone and my brand new shoes. I laughed. She tried to sell herself, but nobody would buy, so for a bargain, she chose to die, too bad. She was so young and so free, always trying to sell something. Life is short and hers is gone, Alecia I am, now frets, a friend from a past time, full of regrets in life. I still remember her. A telemarketer at heart just told me to cash in.

Chapter 15: Pro-Death
What’s Up
5…4…3….2….1….0 and life stops right before her. “You’ll never see me again.” Time, just lets her go, like a wind up robot, she repeats her foes. She’s surfing through the sunset like a wind by a big jet. She counts the time to make it sure to find the one that got away and help her pain ease away. She sits in the ocean; the water splashes around her; she’s a boulder and a shelter; she is alone, but not lonely. She counts the drops of water around her; they hit her slow and ease down her legs. She is one of few, there that day; no one’s around to contemplate. The ocean screams, so softly, it screams of disaster and endless worries. She goes further into the ocean and begins to give in slowly, as the water creeps up her body and waves try to knock her down. She keeps moving, moving slow, just trying to reach the sunset that gets further with each step. She keeps moving, trying to maintain her charm, as she hints a smile and falls to her knees. Her head goes under as she gives in and loses breath and counts to ten. 10....9…8….7….6….5. She comes up for air; counting backwards, moving slowly, as life flashes before her. She cannot do it. She is weak, and too strong to live, she should give in, just cash in. Life is floating before her like the shark out in the ocean, and the dolphin to save her, she is drowning, but not dying, she can hold her breath for 25 years, and still not pass away, but maybe pass the opportunity to end it all. There HE was again, as she glanced down to the water. His reflection was blurry, it flickered in the last drops of sun as she tried to reach him; unreachable. She had to quit, just threw in the towel. It’s over for her. She lost her hope in what could be; time had passed, and so had she. She drifted out further, the water to her lips now, floating on the water and losing her grip now. She counted time on her two hands, counting to zero, she made a plan. She seemed to drift mindlessly for miles as she went further, now swimming and becoming tired, the sun was going down. She was losing grip on the new life found. She just looked down, but only to find the fish below her, counting time. Counting 5…..4…..3…..2…..1….0 and time stopped for a second. She just replied with the flicker of her wrist and her watch in the other hand. She let it drift into the sea; it needed a time, just a release. It floated as gently as the hands turned rhythmically to the beat of the sea. The animals joined in and counted to synchronize. She seemed to be miles from the shore when she finally turned and smiled, she was free but not to be found. It was an eternity when she found the sun, but when she reached out to reach it, her hand went right through it and she tipped over the edge of the world and fell to the liquid bottom. 5…4…3….2….1….0 and life stops right before her. “You’ll never see me again.”

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What's Up novel coming soon.
Loop Hole novel coming soon.

"Lonely" poem availbale now.

archer88iv

I'll just say what I always say. If you intend to sell something, don't write it as if you can sit and explain it to your audience. They'll probably never meet you. The text is the only opportunity you have to make yourself understood, so don't squander it.

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-J

Cran

That shouldn't matter - even though the story will have developed, and a lot of background assumed - the excerpts should still be readable ... your writing should be able to reach your target reader, and draw that reader into your story, so that the actual words and sentences become secondary as the meaning and the images take over ... but if your reader is wading through pages of unformatted text, and confused styles, compounded metaphors, etc, then the meaning and the images become secondary ...

Actually, we are gentle ... the brutal ones are still out there ...

I think you might have pinpointed the problem ...

But to whom are you hoping to get the strong point across? For whom are you writing? Are you writing in the same way, using the same words, the same breathing spaces, as you would if speaking to someone? If not, why not?

As a listener, could you maintain your interest or understanding if someone spoke to you in the same way - speaking 500 words or more, mostly in long, complex statements, without stopping to breathe? Would you know where one idea ended, and the next one began?

I'm sorry, unfeatured, but that is a logical fallacy (albeit a common one) ... and not material to the discussion -

as readers, our concern is whether the piece is readable, whether the text imparts sufficient understanding of itself, regardless of where it fits into the whole story ...

if as readers, we find it is not readable and can point to why that is the case, then we do so - to suggest that we just don't understand because we don't have the big picture, or the whole story, means that we have failed to get our points across ... and are wasting time ...

Well, if you are getting good reviews, then perhaps you have found your target readers, and your market ... and can pursue that ...

Nobody has all the answers, and there are no commandments written in stone about what to write or who to write for ... anyone who tells you otherwise is deluded or selling something ...

__________________
"I don't know ... I'm making it up as I go ..." - Dr I Jones

Nature abhors perfection - cats abhor a vacuum!

unfeatured

I do want something to sell, not to make money, but because I feel like this has such a powerful message and I want to get that across. So what I will do is spend some time next week reworking the above passages to make them say what I want the audience and at the same time maintain my style. I think that's what you guys are telling me.

I have gotten reviews where people say that it is an engrossing story because of the way it's written and "hypnotic" because of the way it flows.

I think I can find the balance though. I realize that maybe I should tone down the metaphors and symbolism and leave that for poetry lol

Oh, and I only mentioned they were later chapters because someone said that they are not good for introducing things so I wanted it to be known that they are not in the beginning.

Thanks everyone for the feedback. I will work on this and make improvements and keep updating this thread to make sure I get a chance to hear back from everyone.

__________________
What's Up novel coming soon.
Loop Hole novel coming soon.

"Lonely" poem availbale now.