Spark

Draft number two.

-

“Honey, just go to sleep,” my wife murmured, turning her back to me. I ran my knuckle along the crease next to her spine restlessly.

“I can’t. I’m just so overwhelmed with work. I have so much to do and I’m never going to finish,” I said softly, withdrawing my hand and lying back against mattress. I looked over at her, waiting for a response, but none came.

It was beyond me how she could be so content in this world of regulations and traps. Life was so mundane. America, home of the brave and land of the free, turned out to be full of timid chained men. Nobody had the guts to do anything about the every day things; the things that tied everyone down. Being an employee was being underneath someone. They had power over your freedom. How was that freedom? How was being ordered to do someone else’s business, and being given a pittance for it, freedom?

Ever since high school ended, and the naivety of childhood wore off, I have been under someone else’s thumb. I went straight into an entry-level job because I couldn’t afford college. It was only through a lucky break that I got my cushy office and bigger title, but the workload doubled, and the pay was only raised pennies. I married my wife when I still didn’t know whether or not I was in love. I supposed that it was close enough to love, and we tied a knot. Now, at the age of fifty seven, I’m suffocating in America and all its boastful freedom.

I went to bed that night strangely resolved about what was going to happen tomorrow.

The next morning I woke up strangely refreshed for all of my brooding that last night. I kissed my wife goodbye just like I did every morning, and got into the car. On the way to work, I listened to the same radio station I always did. I parked in the same spot, and walked to the same office. My secretary waved a greeting.

“I want to talk to Marty,” I said cheerfully. Marty was my boss. Without another word, I walked down the hall to Marty’s room, and banged on the door.

“Joey! How are you this fine morning?” The boss asked, stepping aside as I walked into his room.

Bang, bang, bang!

I collapsed onto the ground, my starched eggshell shirt spattered with blood. I heard the footsteps of others who came to see what the commotion was.

“Joey! Oh my god, Joey! You killed him!” My secretary shouted frantically. Someone screamed. I threw the gun to the other side of the office and brought my hands to my face.

“I’m supposed to be free! Why aren’t I free?” I cried hysterically, crumpling into a ball. As handcuffs were snapped around my wrists minutes later, I realized that I had been so intoxicated by the idea of true freedom that I gave away the small bit I had.

Intel

Nice story. It was a bit too cliche for me but I like this sort of genre so I don't mind. Firstly lets look at the second paragraph. When the lead character say's "I can't. I'm just so..." I felt it should have been elaborated a little. Why was he stressed out with work? Boss giving him a hard time? Fear of getting sacked? This sets up the downfall of the next paragraph, although I enjoyed it. In the third paragraph the lead starts speaking about the false freedom of american employees. It all seemed a little open without much specification.

We should've known the leads ethinicity, and possibly his backround to understand why he feels this way. Tell us of how America wronged him and shattered his hopes and dreams which brought him to this point. Or maybe he just drifted his life down a dead-end job and suddenly realised this isn't how he pictured life would be. How marriage would be, it doesn't all have to be related to his work, this would attract a wider audience. Like I said right now its very cliche. Although I understand knowledge of the job is not required.

When you got to the office it was obvious what was going to happen. Still it felt exciting and I was looking forward to the confrontation of the Boss. Because of the predictability of this scenario, you at least should've kept the gun hidden from the reader before he entered the room. You could've had the lead walk into the office then collapse to the ground, blood splattered all over him. Then he'd hear voices naming him the killer as he opens his eyes to see the crime he committed. It would be a delicious twist for the reader.

I hope my advice was useful. This was a good story and I know its an early draft, it just lacks detail.

__________________
They crowded up to Intel with their noses worn off.

Spark

It was very helpful. I'll look at it again with that in mind. Thanks

Writer45

Hi spark,
All comments in {}. Hope this helps.
___________________________________

“Honey, just go to sleep,” my wife murmured, turning her back to me. I ran my knuckle along the crease next to her spine restlessly.

“I can’t. I’m just so overwhelmed with work,” I said softly, withdrawing my hand and lying back against mattress. I looked over at her, waiting for a response, but none came.

It was beyond me how she could be so content in this world of regulations and traps. Life was so mundane. America, home of the brave and land of the free, turned out to be full of timid chained men. Nobody had the guts to do anything about the every day things; the things that tied everyone down. Being an employee was being underneath someone. They had power over your freedom. How was that freedom? How was being ordered to do someone else’s business, and being given a pittance for it, freedom?

I went to bed that night strangely resolved about what was going to happen tomorrow.

The next morning I woke up strangely refreshed for all of my brooding that last night. I kissed my wife goodbye just like I did every morning, and got into the car. On the way to work, I listened to the same radio station I always did. I parked in the same spot, and walked to the same office. My secretary waved a greeting.

“I want to talk to Marty,” I said cheerfully. Marty was my boss. I walked to the drawer of my desk and extracted my revolver {I}kept for emergencies. I tucked it into my coat pocket, and walked down the hall to Marty’s [room] {office}, and banged on the door.

“Joey! How are you this fine morning?” The boss asked, stepping aside {,}as I walked into the room.

Bang, bang, bang!

I fired three rounds into his head, and collapsed onto the floor, as I heard the stampede of footsteps rushing to the door.

“I’m supposed to be free! Why aren’t I free?” I cried hysterically, crumpling into a ball [on the floor] {delete not needed}. As handcuffs were snapped around my wrists minutes later {,}I realized that I had been so intoxicated by the idea of true freedom that I gave away the small bit I had.

___________________________________________

well I hope that helps. I liked the story and the plot line, and agree with the plot completely. Cant wait to see the revisions on this.

Dawn
(Writer45)

Spark

New version
-
“Honey, just go to sleep,” my wife murmured, turning her back to me. I ran my knuckle along the crease next to her spine restlessly.

“I can’t. I’m just so overwhelmed with work. I have so much to do and I’m never going to finish,” I said softly, withdrawing my hand and lying back against mattress. I looked over at her, waiting for a response, but none came.

It was beyond me how she could be so content in this world of regulations and traps. Life was so mundane. America, home of the brave and land of the free, turned out to be full of timid chained men. Nobody had the guts to do anything about the every day things; the things that tied everyone down. Being an employee was being underneath someone. They had power over your freedom. How was that freedom? How was being ordered to do someone else’s business, and being given a pittance for it, freedom?

Ever since high school ended, and the naivety of childhood wore off, I have been under someone else’s thumb. I went straight into an entry-level job because I couldn’t afford college. It was only through a lucky break that I got my cushy office and bigger title, but the workload doubled, and the pay was only raised pennies. I married my wife when I still didn’t know whether or not I was in love. I supposed that it was close enough to love, and we tied a knot. Now, at the age of fifty seven, I’m suffocating in America and all its boastful freedom.

I went to bed that night strangely resolved about what was going to happen tomorrow.

The next morning I woke up strangely refreshed for all of my brooding that last night. I kissed my wife goodbye just like I did every morning, and got into the car. On the way to work, I listened to the same radio station I always did. I parked in the same spot, and walked to the same office. My secretary waved a greeting.

“I want to talk to Marty,” I said cheerfully. Marty was my boss. Without another word, I walked down the hall to Marty’s room, and banged on the door.

“Joey! How are you this fine morning?” The boss asked, stepping aside as I walked into his room.

Bang, bang, bang!

I collapsed onto the ground, my starched eggshell shirt spattered with blood. I heard the footsteps of others who came to see what the commotion was.

“Joey! Oh my god, Joey! You killed him!” My secretary shouted frantically. Someone screamed. I threw the gun to the other side of the office and brought my hands to my face.

“I’m supposed to be free! Why aren’t I free?” I cried hysterically, crumpling into a ball. As handcuffs were snapped around my wrists minutes later, I realized that I had been so intoxicated by the idea of true freedom that I gave away the small bit I had.

Arin

The changes you made helped, but I think this could still be expanded. You don't have to go into great detail, but I think adding more would benefit the story. I'm basically reiterating what Intel said, but you really need to push farther. There are plenty of middle-aged men plodding along in their office jobs, oppressed by corporate America, yaddayadda. I'm sure a lot of them think about going postal and shooting their co-workers, but most people won't cross that line. Why did this guy cross that line? What kind of person is he that he can push himself that far? Is it in his nature, is it formed from his environment? Tell us! You don't have to dump information on the reader, but find a way to deepen our perception on this guy, emotionally and intellectually. That will make this story good.

__________________
O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention,
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!

Spark

what if I drop psycopath hints before he goes absolutely berserk? mention him seeing a shrink, that kind of thing? I could also mention the high stress of an office work setting.

I thought about having the boss being his image of a jock in highschool... maybe when I go into that I can mention his hatred for popular people and the power they weild, and then tie it to the boss.

Are either, or both, of those things more of what you're looking for?

Intel

None are more of what were looking for, its about what your looking for in your story. Thats part of the joy of writing, writing what you want. Its just that if your trying to get a certain point across, you may need to alter a few things. I feel flattered you put my advice into your work, but don't feel you have to alter yourself for every bit of criticism you get. Think about that artist who cut his ear off(I can't believe I forgot his name). His paintings only sold after his death.

And finally read other storys, maybe from these forums. Look at the ones which get good reviews and look at why they get these good reviews. Also don't push yourself too hard, do other things to get some inspiration. Oh and most people on these forums don't like reviewing threads if they know its an early draft. I don't mind but i've noticed they get fewer reviews. Happy writing =D>

__________________
They crowded up to Intel with their noses worn off.

aliceedelweiss

Hey there Spark!

Should it be "The mattress"?

Timid (comma) chained men. Since you used two adjectives to describe "men" You need a comma in between the two.

You could either remove 'strangely' in both sentence which would work just as well, remove it from one sentence only, or Change one of the 'strangely's to something else. In my opinion, I think you could take both of them out and describe that both events were strange in a better way than with adjectives.

I think you need a "My revolver, that was kept for emergencies" or "My revolver, which I kept for emergencies" in there. The way you have it just doesn't read right.

Now as for the story. I really like the idea of the ending, how he wanted freedom but got rid of it all (Sounds like something I would do....lol only I'd certainly go a lot farther with it) I think you should really expand on this since it is the plot of it. Using just two paragraphs to describe it really made it feel...light. You should almost make it an insanity, his need for freedom. And then describe his realization of loosing all his freedom not only in his physical reaction (As you did) but in emotional. I think it could really be expanded to make a very big impact, which Is something I would really like to see from it.

Speaking of the last two paragraphs, perhaps you should say more about Marty dying? About the people coming? I doubt the cops would be there that soon. The last two paragraphs were a complete rush and just felt really unrealistic. But, don't take that as a bad thing! Because I really want to see you turn it into something good. Now just because I said it was rushed doesn't mean you have to make tons of long drawn out paragraphs for it. Just put a little more into it.

From that, I'm not sure if you are talking about the Main Character or his boss. So you might want to make that evident. And like I said above, after you shoot his boss we don't hear anything about him dying, bleeding everywhere, screaming for his wife/husband (Is it a girl of guy!? Marty is such a unisex name.)

I really like the plot, and the idea you have, And I really hope you can work through it and make it something good. If you have any questions or need something just PM me, and when you write it PM me because I would love to read it

Alice

__________________

aliceedelweiss

Aw crap I just realized I read the first one and not the "second version" Will you forgive me, and take what I said above anyway? I'm not used to people putting up "second versions" Why not just use the 'edit' button???

Alice

__________________

Spark

It's okay -- Most of it still applies. I'll edit it now xD Sorry that you read the wrong one.