NO TITLE - pretty short, please read - Writers Forum

ProudestMonkey · 11-10-2005, 07:37 PM

it isnt very long, doesnt have much structure (no paragraphs) and isnt an actual dialogue-revolving story. I have many of those, i just wanted to see how this one was. It has deeper meaning

Everything had happened so fast, he just couldn't keep up with the blurring lights. He knew what he wanted to do, of course, but to the extent that he couldn't keep those emotions kept together correctly. One mistake after another just tear down the life he'd built like a house of cards hit by a gust of wind. Who knew a life so structured could become amorphous before an eye could open and close in a single frame of time? Who knew selflessness of friends could turn to anger and distaste? Surely, this was not apparent to anyone, because if it was, he had missed one of the most important discussions he could have been present for. With everything considered right - he found - was also something so very wrong. The illusion of ‘easy choices in life, just following the right path’ is more misleading than most could comprehend to its full degree. He pours his soul on paper because he cannot find a better way to go about himself without an internal conflict of his mind. A battle no man, nor animal, could withstand to see the next sun rise above their heads, lighting up the minds, the bodies, of everyone at peace. Paths spread like spider webs with no direction for the naive, the impressionable. He was bound to tread down one of the inaccurate courses leading to uncomfortable and afflicted self-being. The right path, quite suddenly, appeared before him in an amber glow and he had no choice but to travel to his goal, no matter what it may be. What he saw, after much travel, was a person, a woman. He came closer with haste, only to see her dart down a new path, but never leaving her trail unlighted. This became tiring and he reluctantly gave up for the day, and headed home. Every person he saw, every thought in his head, was that girl. What was wrong? What was this feeling exploring his inside, looking for a way in, or maybe out. The day still rose in the east and set in the west, but not as it usually would have. It was much more beautiful with a more tasteful passing. The colors illuminated his and everyone else’s faces, though they seemed to be unaware - except for those looking with another, hands held tight within theirs. The grass still as green, the trees as magnificent, though again, illuminated. What a mystery, what ideas flushing through his head like a tyrant of a brilliant mind? Nothing would be the same; nothing could possibly surpass these emotions, whatever it would emerge being. After years of agony, never seeing another path, he stumbled upon that amber lighting he once held so dear. He had forgotten its beauty, its textured glow. What better way to spend this restless night, but to follow and see what may lie at its edge? Days of travel anguished his body and mind, but he never stopped, not for a moment. He could see the farthest wall, the light at the end of the tunnel. One more corner and he would discover what he had been seeing and feeling inside him. With each pace, the anticipation grew and he could not restrain himself. A jog, he began, and finally turned to a sprint to the finish. With no more room to tread, he looked above and there was no girl, no human. No physical phenomenon at all. It was something greater, something more unexpected than a rain shower in the most arid desert. And that’s exactly what it felt like, a downpour rushing over his dried mind. This thing seemed too impossible to ever reach, too impossible to grasp. Should he turn to the left or right and leave what lie in front of him? Should he teach himself to forget? He knew he couldn't do that, but even more so, he knew...,

It had to be done.

Jaime Lannister · 11-10-2005, 08:24 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by paperthin

it isnt very long, doesnt have much structure (no paragraphs) and isnt an actual dialogue-revolving story. I have many of those, i just wanted to see how this one was. It has deeper meaning

Everything had happened so fast, he just couldn't keep up with the blurring lights. He knew what he wanted to do, of course, but to the extent that he couldn't keep those emotions kept together correctly. One mistake after another just tear down the life he'd built like a house of cards hit by a gust of wind. Who knew a life so structured could become amorphous before an eye could open and close in a single frame of time? Who knew selflessness of friends could turn to anger and distaste? Surely, this was not apparent to anyone, because if it was, he had missed one of the most important discussions he could have been present for. With everything considered right - he found - was also something so very wrong. The illusion of ‘easy choices in life, just following the right path’ is more misleading than most could comprehend to its full degree. He pours his soul on paper because he cannot find a better way to go about himself without an internal conflict of his mind. A battle no man, nor animal, could withstand to see the next sun rise above their heads, lighting up the minds, the bodies, of everyone at peace. Paths spread like spider webs with no direction for the naive, the impressionable. He was bound to tread down one of the inaccurate courses leading to uncomfortable and afflicted self-being. The right path, quite suddenly, appeared before him in an amber glow and he had no choice but to travel to his goal, no matter what it may be. . What was wrong? What was this feeling exploring his inside, looking for a way in, or maybe out. The day still rose in the east and set in the west, but not as it usually would have. It was much more beautiful with a more tasteful passing. The colors illuminated his and everyone else’s faces, though they seemed to be unaware - except for What he saw, after much travel, was a person, a woman. He came closer with haste, only to see her dart down a new path, but never leaving her trail unlighted. This became tiring and he reluctantly gave up for the day, and headed home. Every person he saw, every thought in his head, was that girlthose looking with another, hands held tight within theirs. The grass still as green, the trees as magnificent, though again, illuminated. What a mystery, what ideas flushing through his head like a tyrant of a brilliant mind? Nothing would be the same; nothing could possibly surpass these emotions, whatever it would emerge being. After years of agony, never seeing another path, he stumbled upon that amber lighting he once held so dear. He had forgotten its beauty, its textured glow. What better way to spend this restless night, but to follow and see what may lie at its edge? Days of travel anguished his body and mind, but he never stopped, not for a moment. He could see the farthest wall, the light at the end of the tunnel. One more corner and he would discover what he had been seeing and feeling inside him. With each pace, the anticipation grew and he could not restrain himself. A jog, he began, and finally turned to a sprint to the finish. With no more room to tread, he looked above and there was no girl, no human. No physical phenomenon at all. It was something greater, something more unexpected than a rain shower in the most arid desert. And that’s exactly what it felt like, a downpour rushing over his dried mind. This thing seemed too impossible to ever reach, too impossible to grasp. Should he turn to the left or right and leave what lie in front of him? Should he teach himself to forget? He knew he couldn't do that, but even more so, he knew...,

It had to be done.

Paperthin you're clearly a very good writer in need of a good editor. Since you're so good, you just throw out some great imagery and lines but you don't need all of it. Read through your piece with a critical eye. Do you really need each line? How can you tell the same story in half as many words? It's also unclear what exactly is going on. Relying to much on imagery and symbolism will simply leave the reader confused. Who is the narrator? What had to be done? Spend more on character development and understanding rather then imagery. But keep working at it if you disicpline yourself and cut the fat out of the story, you've got a great piece. Just some minor things you can start with:

"He knew what he wanted to do, of course, but to the extent that he couldn't keep those emotions kept together correctly."
What are you trying to say here? There's so many extra words it all gets lost.

"Who knew selflessness of friends could turn to anger and distaste?"
This is important in understanding the narrator and is a good chance for some character development. Spend some time on it. What did the friends do?

"What a mystery, what ideas flushing through his head like a tyrant of a brilliant mind?"
Change flushing to flushed and I'm not sure what you mean by tyrant. Maybe torrent?

"He was bound to tread down one of the inaccurate courses leading to uncomfortable and afflicted self-being."
Do you see what I mean about too many words destroying the understanding? Cut this sentence down and any others like it to the bare minimum needed for the reader to understand what's going on.

"What he saw, after much travel, was a person, a woman. He came closer with haste, only to see her dart down a new path, but never leaving her trail unlighted. This became tiring and he reluctantly gave up for the day, and headed home. Every person he saw, every thought in his head, was that girl"
How did the girl affect him so much? Was she beautiful? Did she comfort him somehow? Develop this rrelationship and let the reader understand why the narrator feels so strongly.

"The day still rose in the east and set in the west,"
Replace day with sun.

" It was something greater, something more unexpected than a rain shower in the most arid desert"
A little cliche to me. I'll leave this up to everyone else, but I'm sure there's a more vibrant image you can use.

Oh and just saying hi to everybody. I figured instead of introducing myself in the newbie forum, I'd just give some commentary

Chris Miller · 11-10-2005, 08:34 PM

One pretty firm rule in writing fiction is never tell emotions; never tell how your character is feeling. Try to let the reader figure it out from dialogue and actions. It's much more powerful that way.

Can you tell me what that story was about?

eggo · 11-10-2005, 11:28 PM

I found it very hard to follow. I read it as a free flowing thing, but couldn't really get into it. I'm not really sure if it was a dream or something else.

Lucid · 11-10-2005, 11:40 PM

This seems to be some sort of prose/poetry hybrid. I think you should either lean it down a great deal and turn it into free-flowing poetry or turn it into full-blown prose.

A Glass Thought · 11-11-2005, 04:09 AM

This piece is very similar to what I used to write when I first started.(and that would be about a year and a half ago.)

Technically it is a bit of a prose/poetry hybrid. Frankly, I like that kind of writing. Writing should have some art to it, rather than just placing word after word in a set structure.

Which means the next thing you need to practice is writing word after word in a set structure. You need to understand both, and get them to work together in a style that is comfortable for you. Free-form writing like what you're doing shows skill, but not structure. It shows an image of words building and picking up speed as it rolls downhill.

Honestly, I look forward to reading what you post six months from now. You can only get better.