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Old 02-14-2008, 12:49 AM   #1
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Lightbulb "Smokey Valley"

Chapter 1
A New Beginning

I stood there looking at what was once my dormitory, key word being “was”, however certain unfortunate events have caused me to move on. I needed to move on from a manufactured happiness, which turned out to be nothing but a lie in disguise. I only could blame myself for such a blundering mistake of moving to Montana, yet I passed that blame all onto a falsified love. I was convinced this love of a certain woman was the solution to all my problems, and I suppose to some extent she was a way to find myself, or maybe she was just a stepping stone for me to break out of my comfort zone. At any rate, I moved to Montana for her and her alone, but it took me only six months to realize all of my decisions were made in vein. I could stand here all day and make excuses for why I made my mistakes, I could blame every upcoming obstacle on her, but my time is too precious. We have so little time on this earth to live our lives so what would be the point in stressing myself out about one tiny bump in the road.
So, that is how I found myself outside the building that was once my dormitory with a packed truck ready to move on to a new start. I really couldn’t have picked a better to leave in all honesty. The weather here is nothing short of awful, and I have grown sick of it like a horse would of his whip. Montana has a weird way of sucking your soul dry of mojo with its subzero temperatures. A minus thirty wind will leave you in a haze of depression, and can cause a young man from high desert country to lose his mind. That day I left was no different, because when it came time to turn over my engine the first and second attempts were unsuccessful. The third time was the charm, of course wouldn’t you figure, without any hesitation I made my way for the freeway.
This would be the last time ever having to make this drive, as I passed through the flat windy landscape I couldn’t help but yell to myself in utter joy. Every mile haunted me with memories of this past year. Every trip I made this way was filled with anticipation to see my love, and excitement at the thought of starting a life here. Now, I couldn’t be more in a hurry to leave this place, I now felt free some how. I drove past the never ending line of fences and trees that seem to cover western Montana; wondering why it was there wasn’t more heartbreak on my side of this departure. I think I always knew the answer though. The love I shared with her was real, raw and no where near short of passion, but at some level we both knew I wasn’t meant to stay. My life has always been unsettled, and completely unpredictable. Deep down in both our hearts we knew a love was not going to last because I could not inhabit Montana for a life sentence. Driving, memories haunted me; I sang a song or two and my heart moved onward from the mistake of staying in Montana for a period past expiration.
……………………………………………………………………………………………
The rain poured from the sky like a shower head out of control, and soaked an entire city. This city which, they call the emerald city was use to this sort of pounding rain which constantly drowned the area. It is even rumored the reason for an unusual suicide rate is due to the dory weather often visiting this metropolis. However, the weather is not of importance and is irrelevant at this point. Except to one person; a young woman who is matching the weather with her tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. She has grown tired of the sullenness of this city. Her heart is heavy as she packs up a suit case determined to make a break for freedom. The trappings of a busy world have grown too harsh, and have left her with a heart breaking one too many times. Only her heartbreaks from more than just a love or two gone badly; but from the staleness that has engulfed her lifestyle. Tears streaming down her face she grabs her bag, and heads outside to bare the elements for her escape. Thoughts ran through her head like stampeding buffalo running from hunters. Feelings seemed to be numbed from the coldness of the rain. She turns the ignition, pulls the shifter into drive and heads for a new beginning to her life.
………………………………………………………………………………………………
I reached my hometown around five in the evening; the weather had been warming in this part of the country unlike Montana. I rolled my window down to take in the beautiful intoxicating smells floating in the air around early spring. As you pull in close to town you pass the local mill, which in recent years have not been a driving economic force, which had fresh cut logs. The wind blows the smell of wet wood from the stacks of lumber yet to be manufactured. Another gentle breeze hits almost as quickly as the last bringing in a sent of sagebrush. After pulling into town the smell of bar food permeating from the local taverns make its way down the main streets of Omak. Soon, all of these smells will be dwarfed however by the wildfires burning through out the Okanogan area each year. Yes, it sure smells like home, and in a strange way these smell that once made me dread residence in this town, suddenly allowed my heart and soul to free them of an overwhelming heaviness. You could equate the feeling to someone being released from solitary confinement, and seeing sunlight for the first time in months. Lord only knows a man can not live long without sunlight.
I drove through the small town main street drag where most teenagers drive up and down on Friday nights. I know this because I participated in such a ritual enough times in my life to know that doesn’t change. On this night however, the middle of the week proved to be just that the middle of the week. Not many people were out, and as I made my way up towards the north part of town I took notice to the few local drunks on street corners beneath a neon moon. There were also a few locals just out and about either going to dinner at our in town Mexican restaurant or just taking a walk for the enjoyment. Further north of downtown I reached the turn off to my house, which was located on what we locals call the “Flats”, but I am really not sure why we call it that being as it is actually favorably hilly. Making my way to the long dirt driveway turn off, which leads to my house, I couldn’t help but feel elated just to be home. The sun was setting on more than just the day’s events, but also a sun had set on a chapter of my life. A chapter that may have very well of been drawn out too long, like an amateur author might in their first story.
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Old 02-14-2008, 08:35 AM   #2
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First to all, nits:


all of my decisions were made in vein.
(vain)

I really couldn’t have picked a better (a better what - missing noun) to leave in all honesty.

The third time was the charm, of course wouldn’t you figure, without any hesitation I made my way for the freeway.

( ^ Sentence needs a rewrite. I'd delete 'wouldn't you figure'.)


This would be the last time ever having to make this drive, as I passed through the flat windy landscape I couldn’t help but yell to myself in utter joy.

( ^ Again rewrite. Syntactic ambiguity.)


Now, I couldn’t be more in a hurry to leave this place, I now felt free some how. (somehow)

(^ Rewrite sentence above. Run-on.)

I drove past the never ending line of fences and trees that seem to cover western Montana; wondering why it was (Delete underlined portion.) there wasn’t more heartbreak on my side of this departure.


I think I always knew the answer though. The love I shared with her was real, raw and no where (nowhere) near short of passion, but at some level we both knew I wasn’t meant to stay.


This city <insert comma> which, (remove comma) they call the emerald city was use (used) to this sort of pounding rain (insert comma) which constantly drowned the area.

Only her heartbreaks from more than just a love or two gone badly; but from the staleness that has engulfed her lifestyle.

(^Again the sentence above requires restructuring. Did you mean 'Not only'?)

Tears streaming (stream) down her face she grabs her bag, and heads outside to bare the elements for her escape. Thoughts ran through her head like stampeding buffalo running from hunters. Feelings seemed to be numbed from the coldness of the rain. She turns the ignition, pulls the shifter into drive and heads for a new beginning to her life.

(^ This portion contains tense inconsistencies.)

I reached my hometown around five in the evening; the weather had been warming in this part of the country unlike Montana. I rolled my window down to take in the beautiful intoxicating smells floating in the air around early spring. As you pull in close to town you pass the local mill, which in recent years have (has: subject-verb agreement) not been a driving economic force, which had fresh cut logs. (Abrupt shift in point of view. Watch your pronouns.)

Too many clauses inserted.

The wind blows the smell of wet wood from the stacks of lumber yet to be manufactured. Another gentle breeze hits almost as quickly as the last <insert comma> bringing in a sent of sagebrush.

Yes, it sure smells like home, and in a strange way these smell that once made me dread residence in this town, suddenly allowed my heart and soul to free them of an overwhelming heaviness. (tense inconsistency)

I know this because I participated in such a ritual enough times in my life to know that (it) doesn’t change.

Not many people were out, and as I made my way up towards the north part of town <insert comma> I took notice (tautology - 'noticed' would suffice)to the few local drunks on street corners beneath a neon moon.

Further north of downtown I reached the turn off to my house, which was located on what we locals call the “Flats”, but I am really not sure why we call it that <insert comma> being as it is actually favorably hilly.

A chapter that may have very well of been drawn out too long, like an amateur author might in their (his or her: subject-pronoun agreement) first story.

*

Overall thoughts: You need to thoroughly edit these passages, for they contain numerous syntactic and grammatical errors.

As for the content, your prose meanders, appearing muddled or torn between observations, flashbacks, and present feelings. I would try to discern between the different trains of thought.

You told me in PM that you intended this piece as a romance. The object of your affection does not emerge fully-fledged; on the contrary, she is a mere apparition. Develop her character more and work on not making the prose (essay?) too self-conscious.

Best,
Mirror
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Old 02-15-2008, 11:28 PM   #3
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second chapter

Chapter 2
First Day of Spring
After being home for a few months of cabin fevered winter, today would be more welcomed than a million dollars landing on my front porch. The forecast was for sixty degrees of pure bliss, and after months of sub zero temperatures it would feel more like one hundred degrees. Even though the technical first day of spring would not roll around for a week or so, there was no doubt spring had finally arrived. Soon you would be able to walk outside and not need a jacket just to walk to your vehicle. Flowers would soon be blossoming into a wide array of colors and smells, mostly of pinks and yellows around this area. The sage brush has begun to turn into its usual dark puke green color before turning into summer baby’s breath. I think the fondest memories I have from growing up around here took place around this time of the year. Baseball season was usually in full swing by now, and I always felt so invigorated. Fresh cut grass in left field, grass stains on a pair of baseball pants and dust swirling in the air like a whirl wind. I remember showing up at practice everyday after school itching to run out into the outfield. I miss those days of sprinting for a fly ball no one believed could be caught, and making the catch. Those days are gone now however, but reminiscences of those days still linger in certain smells that roll through the air bring them back every now and then.

Today however I would not be playing baseball. No, today I am going to go fishing at a lake with a name that lacks any creativeness, fish lake is my destination. Actually I will not be only fishing but camping up at the lake. Just as I was packing up my things to get ready for my little camping adventure my dad walked in my room.
“Hey Max, do you think you could do me a favor?”
“Yeah dad sure thing”
“How about making a quick trip up to Oroville for me before you go camping?”
“Dad, that is like 20 miles out of my way though, and I honestly don’t have the gas to make the trip.”
“Yeah but you are going in that direction anyways, plus you don’t think I would ask you if I wasn’t going to pay for your gas do you?”
“Well since you put it that way I guess I will have to accept”

My dad is a real estate agent and he receives these request to go out and take pictures of homes for the mortgage companies, just for updated information. Often, my dad has me do these for him just because lately he has been awfully busy with more important dealings. I am happy to go do these little inspection projects for him, especially since he pays me under the table for them. He has always been a very generous supportive father. I am not saying he spoils me at all, but being born as his sun is like a company hiring you, and in the process you receive these amazing benefits. Don’t get me wrong however, I really do have to work for these benefits and always have, he just wants me to have a better life than he did as a young man. Growing up I honestly could not thin of anyone I would have rather had as a father, he took me fishing taught me about sports and all the things a father and son are suppose to do.

That being established I feel it is safe to say that these little stunts he pulls on me from time to time get to be a little irritating. This is a typical thing for him to do, just before I get ready to go somewhere or do something he, last minute mind you, will come up with some odd ball job he needs done that I don’t want to do. In this case it just so happened that today he needs me to travel twenty miles out of my way just to go get a picture of some house. Normally this would be a great time to start arguing with him but I figure what is the use, I was going to cave anyways. So, I finished packing up a few essential items needed for my adventure in camping and headed outside.
I threw my green canvas bag into my pick up, along with a one man tent, fishing tackle and a couple of poles. I only needed two more things to make my trip complete, but to get them I needed to head into town. These two items are a no brainier around here, if you have lived here for any amount of time then you would know that beer and tobacco are necessary to any camper. Yes, I do realize that my major in college has been health and fitness, and yes, I do realize the world is exceptionally uptight about the health affects of these products. However, there is one thing that needs to be known about me and my stance on this issue; I honestly could care less about what everyone else thinks about beer and tobacco. Camping is a way of letting lose and getting back to nature, and for me there is nothing better than fishing with a couple of cold Cooers, and a full can of Copenhagen. I started up my truck with a mindset to do some serious fishing, and of course take a picture.

After driving along a highway that is extremely busy with ridiculous traffic, which bewilders me to no end. We are located in the north central part of Washington. There really and truly is nothing here except for sagebrush and ponderosa pine trees. Most of the scenery consists of foothill mountains covering the span of this valley, with dotted spots of sage brush. Sand covers this extremely dry valley as well. You could almost describe this area as a mountainous desert. Undoubtedly one of the driest places on earth, yet at the same time extremely beautiful, except for winter, nothing is beautiful covered in snow. This place is at its peak from March till August. The summer months are my favorite due to the fact you can go anywhere and do anything. During these months the sun seems to never set and days go on and on. I love being able to sit outside in a lawn chair in the wee hours of the evening watching an orange sunset through the smokiness of a summer wildfire. Being able to sit out in the dark, looking into a clear sky in search of the perfect star light. Unfortunately, people from the western part of this state have also discovered the beauty of our painted summer skies, and are now crowding us. Granted there is still quite a bit here that is being invaded on by westerners, but not as much as there use to be.

I pulled into the small town of Oroville around noon, and lucked out in finding the house was located in town near the park. This house was the typical house found in this town; small, run down and built right on top of its neighboring house. I drove up in front of the house pausing long enough; not even putting the truck in park, to take a snap shot of the house and made a quick exit.

After making my exit from the site of my unwanted job I pulled into a gas station on the edge of town. I decided to just pick up the essential items needed for my camp out here before I left. I pulled up to a parking spot that had a lot of ware and tear from over the years of having oil drip. Before turning of my engine I just sat there in my cab. A lot had been going through my head lately and I needed to just stop and take a breath. Knowing some guy would come along to see me just sitting in my cab thinking I was a fool I turned off the engine. I opened the door and stepped out on to the hot pavement. Gravely sand crunched beneath my feet as I transferred my weight to make each step, and a slight breeze hit my slightly sweating skin. Something in the air felt strange, something not quite normal drifted about the air like a piece of drift wood at sea. A second breeze brushed the back of my neck as if it were tapping as a warning or as if were alerting me for some reason. Consciously I ignored the signal, yet at the same time in the back of my mind I could not release the thought.

I entered the small building containing goods such as beef jerky, slushys, soda, crap food from a hot box and the items I had stopped to retrieve. At this moment I saw her, the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on. She was very petite and short; her hair was black as night and skin that was seemingly flawless. She had a light tan that was the perfect tint, almost like she painted her skin to look that way. Her lips were full and she was perfect. I was completely taken away by this woman, and for the life of me could not figure out why she was here. I walked towards her, not being able to find the courage to talk, smiled in her direction. She smiled back carrying an ice tea to the counter. As I passed her in a brief moment something about her stood out apart from anything else I noticed about her. I looked into her eyes finding myself lost in a sea of sadness. There was a sadness that could drown the world, if she wanted to do so. Walking back to the beer section I tried to figure out why on earth someone with her beauty could be so sad. This was not a question I could answer, nor would I find the answer since she made a speedy exit. I figured that it would be best for me not to find out her story anyhow, but the temptation to run after right at that moment consumed me. I seemed to have amazing will power for once in my life and continued the task at hand of purchasing my beer.

I put the case of beer in my ice chest along with, of course, ice. Finally I was fully ready to make my way to the lake and enjoy some pristine scenery. I pulled out of the run down gas station, with a skip in my step and a lovely beauty to keep my mind occupied. Driving that stretch of highway was anything but exciting and rarely is, so I kind of have to keep myself occupied. There are a number of things you can do to pass the time on a lonely drive to anywhere. A person can look around at passing scenery, like a cow here and there or maybe a coyote running across a brown field fried by the hot high desert sun we so often see. Many people like to talk to themselves; I see them all the time having full conversations while no one is around to hear them. I suppose it helps to talk out your problems with yourself, in my opinion it is one step away from a padded room. In my travels I have seen people do everything from reading to sitting there in their vehicles drowning in a puddle of thoughts. I do believe my favorite solitaire travel activity is singing in the car. For me there is no better way to pass the time than to pretend you are performing a concert for every car that passes by on the highway. To be honest I know people stare at vehicle rock stars, but we should realize these are strangers that you will never see again. To me it is like having a friend in those five seconds that you see them rather than some stranger just passing along the road. So, I sang, the whole drive to the lake twenty miles down the road. I sang to every car, truck and mini van passing by and even giving a slight wave to friendly faces.

I pulled into the camp site, not unfamiliar to me, to find a vehicle already set up with one tent and a campfire burning. This forced me to look for somewhere else to set up, I really didn’t want to because that area is my favorite, but I didn’t want to intrude. I drove around for a good hour when the thought crossed my mind to just go ask if I could set my tent up at my original spot. There was plenty of room there and from the looks of it there was only one body there. There also only one of me, so, I figured I would go make a new friend. I pulled into the grassy opening surrounded by large ponderosa pine trees towering over the haven. Spots where the grass had been camped on were very prominent and grass looked to be dead in these spots. Water was dripping from the branches from an earlier rain, and the sun was beaming off of the lake. The vehicle of my new hopeful camping companion was a large blue SUV. I could see the back doors opened with someone searching around hidden by these doors.
“Hey Sir, Sir”
“YEAH!”
“Hi, I was wondering if I could share this spot with you since most of the other spots are pretty full. I won’t be much bother I can camp…..”
“MAX! Is that you buddy?”

This was one of those occasions where you look up into the sky and give God big thumbs up. The chances of this person being at this very camping site, to me, were slim to none but very pleasing.
“Jim, is that you? You sum bitch”
“Max it is good to see you man” the old friends gave each other a quick hug
“Well now I don’t have to ask if I can camp out here and drink a little” Max said with a chuckle
“Hell yeah man, come set your stuff up near the water. I was just looking for a couple of pots and pans for the grouse and chilly.”
“Sounds good man, I brought a case of beer and I am pretty sure you got some too so we are set on that right?”
“For sure, except I forgot to go pick up some Copenhagen before I left”
“That’s ok I bought a roll of it before I came up. I don’t mind sharing”

I couldn’t believe my luck running into a friend like that; we go way back to the days of cub scouts. We lost touch the last couple of years since he enlisted and went over to Iraq. In all honesty I just figured he had died, I know that sounds awful but you need to understand he was never the hottest flame in the fire. I grabbed by tent and cooler out of the bed of my truck, and then walked over to the inviting crackling of a campfire. There is nothing better than sitting next to a good fire, reeking of smoke when the day has exhausted the fire.
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Last edited by crowe1120 : 02-15-2008 at 11:30 PM. Reason: spacing for paragraphs
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