Irish_dude

Hi guys,

I've managed to dig out one of my earlier works for your (hopeful) entertainment. I've thoroughly enjoyed my tenure here so far and hope to offer more and more to this community! Feel free to be harsh - its the best way to learn.

One of the elements of story-telling I enjoy is playing with different timelines. I've tried to tell this story using a reverse timeline, let me know how it plays out.

I feel I need to re-write section 2 and 3, but I'll leave that to you oh hallowed reader

Discovery

2314 20th April 2007

The Doppler-whoosh tail of the train flew by, destroying the silent symphonic conversations taking place in twos and threes. A cacophonic wind grumbled to and fro, throwing itself against the mismatched structures. Amidst the loitering shadows stood two, both standing to attention like hairs on one's back.

"Chilly night eh?" ventured the male, feeling like a chump in a bar trying to offer up conversation, anything to break the ice. She sighed. "Please don’t give me that crap; don’t you think I've been around those lines for long enough in my life?”
Billboards and signs surrounded them warning and encouraging equally. A sign for Hamlet being shown stood ominously next to them, he couldn't help but laugh to himself. She sighed again.

"Christ, why did I get myself caught up in this," she said a little loudly, tempering her frustration with rage. Some of the shadows broke, showing white eyes in their direction. Conscious of this, he showed his dissatisfaction on his face, "What can I do?" he offered up to God dramatically, still not haven't lost his theatrical verve even despite the situation.

"I don't think I can forgive you this time Medici, no, no," she said while shaking her head, "I refuse to forgive you, I owe myself more than that - I deserve more than that," she stressed deserved with a shot in his direction. The sky stared on; stars twinkled in and out of existence, a crow squawked in some far off place.
"I'm sorry, it’s just the way I am" he whimpered.




2300 20th April 2007

Their taxi shot through the night, slicing through the dark matter that contained their future.

Medici: half pragmatist, half philosopher. He liked to smile a lot, and say old fashioned words like "Eureka" and "vouchsafe", because they sounded different. His teeth were small and pixy-like, which made him look like a creature from underground. A tall body with a slim build added to the image further, he had thick, wavy hair that seemed to be constantly standing up. It was like a cross between an afro and flat-top; he had large hooded eyes and a straight roman nose. His face didn’t seem to look right, but there was a gentle innocence about him that endeared him to others.

He walked with a slight limp, after falling off a wall he was dared to climb as a kid. He was a parody that you weren't quite sure whether to take serious or not, Medici was the kind of person who stays until the credits in a film finish rolling, afraid that he might miss something. He loves playing with his girlfriend's clothes when she's not around and has found that he has a surprising aptitude for styling her hair - which worries and fascinates her in equal measure. He has the largest collection of old plays she had ever seen, and even calls his cat Lear.

Still feeling it was within his control he offered: "My dear woman what exactly do you want me to say, I was an idiot, I love you, yet there's still the fact that I'm an idiot," he ventured the last comment but only got iron-clad silence back. They passed by some broken down shops, then a restaurant with a lonely customer toasting to himself, a couple hugged and smiled on a doorstep.
"This is for real this time Medici," she said. She sat there, nothing special or remarkable about her.

Christina Powell got to her station in life through hard work and grit, rather than inspiration; there looked like there was a hint of impetuousness about her, like she could snap at any moment. On the whole, she seemed unhappy, like a stage-hand trying to control all that going on before her, flitting from scene to scene, but ultimately failing. She had an opinionated stance on almost everything, especially about family. Her father left when she was young, leaving her mother alone to tend for her and her brother.

Rather than leave the exit of her father affect her, her mother went out and slept with almost every man in Sheffield, which was quite a feat by anyone's standards. This completely destroyed Christina’s opinion on men; quite simply, she didn’t have one and dared not think about it. She knew herself, and didn't feel there was a great deal left to discover. She accepted who she saw in the mirror, and knew there was a lot left there though to discover. Sometimes, she stared off into the distance, at nothing in particular, a lost memory calling from within. The taxi stopped, they were at their destination.



1934 20th April 2007

She hurriedly prepared the final touches to her Artichoke and Broccoli Bake: Medici’s favourite. Today was the day, today was the day that she was going to tell him she was ready, ready to commit. For the first time, the first time ever it felt right. She heard his key turn in the door and stood proudly at the table announcing when he came in a triumphant, “Taadaaa!” Her excitement was overflowing into the room, a vast untapped reservoir left dormant. He stood, not knowing what to say. “Well that’s a first, Medici the magnificent caught for words?” she jested while circling the table to align a fork. He took off his coat and slouched against the wall, the whole scene and the subtext behind it was starting to hit him. “Why you looking so marny?” she asked now, looking slightly concerned.

He pursed his lips, even though he normally loved her colloquialisms, the effect was lost on him today. “Sit down please honey, I have something to tell you,” and with that he told of his drunken indiscretions the night before, how the party they were at got out of control, and before he knew it he was in bed with some girl he met.

“I’m sorry honey, I didn’t realise what I done until I woke up this morning.” She sat. She rolled her tongue around in her mouth and looked sideways at nothing in particular, the oven bringgged signalling the roast was ready. She got up and removed the roast carefully from the oven and headed in Medici’s direction. He sat there dumb-founded, frozen in time. She put the roast in the centre of the table together with all the side dishes she prepared. She moved towards her chair, pulled it out in a swift movement and then sat down, swallowing hard and rising her head in a quasi-dignified manner. “Would you mind cutting the roast,” she ordered rather than asked. Still stunned he starting cutting, trying to catch her eyes. She just sat there, lips pursed, chin slightly raised. When he doled out the roast silence hovered over them. She reached for the potatoes and then some vegetables, seeing this as a form of permission he did the same.

As they started eating he started to wonder what strategy to take, he wanted to be honest, having made that promise to her. But he also wondered did he just tell her to unburden his conscience, with that, she spoke: “You know, these last few weeks for me have been some of the most painful, and also most pleasurable,” she scooped a potato into her mouth.

“I managed to open myself to you and take a chance,” she mumbled through the initial mouth-load. He dared not interrupt her, thankfully she swallowed: “Tonight was a celebration of all that, I was going to tell you that I was willing to commit, willing to wipe the slate clean for both of us and start our life’s afresh, two star-crossed lovers just liked you wanted,” she paused and seeing this for his opportunity he prepared his retort, she however raised her hand signifying a stop signal while taking a giant piece of broccoli into her mouth with the other.

When finished she lowered her hand and started again: “But these past few weeks something has been nagging me. The more I started to thaw and steer myself in your direction, the more that voice inside me starting speaking, and you know what it told me? It told me the only person that could complete me was myself, ME,” she banged her hand on the table to emphasise. “Still I pushed it deep down. When you told me this, I wanted to swim in the sheer emotion of it all. I wanted to swim because I didn’t feel betrayed, I felt liberated. Through your infidelity you’ve set me free. I’m going home, regrouping and then who knows.” She stood up.

“ I’m going to pack, I want you to call me a taxi to the station, your welcome to accompany me and say goodbye,” she got up, cleared her plate and headed to her bedroom to start to pack. Medici sat there; he couldn’t find a word from this century or the last to express what he was feeling.



2046 21st April 2006

The first few weeks of their coupling flew by, like leaves falling from an autumn tree. For him, he found himself helpless to her pull; for her, she found herself dragged along at first, but gradually starting to thaw. After an awkward breakup (she hated breaking up), she tippy-toed around him, testing the water slowly while he dived headfirst in.

“There’s something you should know about me,” he told her one night after a particularly ravishing Lamb Risotto, “I’m falling like a young boy on speed for you,” he laughed as he said this and so did she. “No, but seriously I think I am,” she took a gulp of wine and looked at him, not quite knowing what to say. She rubbed her eyebrow with her index finger, as if this alone could bring her answers. A smell of cinnamon wafted through the restaurant, fighting with other more potent aromas, a couple near them seemed to melt into one another.

“This isn’t easy for me, you know I find it difficult to open up,” she played with one of the many forks she didn’t know when to use. He smiled sympathetically; for him, it was easy to throw himself fully into parts. “And I also know your history,” she said, keeping her line of sight low. He smiled again, this time with a jolt of recognition. “How do I know I’m just not another notch on your belt?”

“Well, I won’t lie to you, yes I do find it difficult to, how you say, keep my feet under the bed,” his theatrical flair shining through. “But I feel something deep down here for you, “ he said pointing at his stomach, at least she hoped it was. “And I promise I will never hurt you, I want you to really open up to me, lets make a go of this, I think I maybe in love with you,” and with that a decision was made.

“Ok, lets go for it,” she blurted, half-smiling, but with an inner resolve, and perhaps release.



2237 9th February 2006

The crowds bustled out of the sweltering theatre, eager to quench their thirst in the bar. The director announcing in grandiose fashion before the play, “I regret to inform all that the air-conditioning is not working here either, in fact, the whole structure is affected. It should make for a steamy performance!” he said in an uncaring, lecherous way.

They all steamrolled the bar, jostling and jockeying for top spot as if their very life’s depended on it. As people were served, parts of the mass broke off into little nuggets to dissect the play. It was universally agreed that it was an excellent portrayal of Hamlet, especially the melancholy Hamlet himself. With that he entered and was greeted by applause from the audience and shook everyone’s hand like a seasoned politician. When finished he headed to the bar for a drink, where a curvy blonde was waiting to be served, he approached her.

“Chilly night eh?” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

She looked and smiled, two twinkling eyes meeting, “You could say that,” she countered while going red. He knew the game was over before it even began. “Say, how bout you let this troubled soul buy you a drink, every King needs an understanding Queen.”

“I would, but my boyfriend wouldn’t approve of my entering other kingdoms,” she was quite impressed with the confidence she showed in delivering such a salacious retort. She smiled and motioned to leave. “Aren’t you forgetting your drinks?” he helpfully reminded her. He lifted them and she went to take them but ended up just holding his hands as he kept his grip firm. He stared at her and she could only stare back, transfixed, forgetting he was holding drinks until she eventually relieved him of them and headed back to her boyfriend.

He spent the night tracking her though with his eyes, maybe it was the one he couldn’t have, or maybe it was the extreme heat, but there was something that just drew him in, something that just seemed to fill a part of him.

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"I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principals better than anything else in the world" - Oscar Wilde

Leamadzw

Ok, i'm probs best not to reply because i havent got anything really constructive to say, only a personal opinion.
I struggled to read it. And it sounds silly, but i struggled because you are a very impressive writer (in my opinion).
Your descriptions are done very well from what i did read, but i gave up quickly because i got exhausted. I can see from just skimming it, it does flow. It just didnt grab me from the beginning. I don't really understand the change in dates (most likely because i didn't read it properly..) but i get the impression that it was a very clever way of writing.

I would like to read a different type of story by you. Something prehaps a little easier.

Irish_dude

Hi Leamadzw,

Thanks for taking the time to read, and reply.

I was trying to tell a story from a particular date, going backwards as the narrative flowed. Think of Momento (movie) if that helps position things easier.

I agree that it can be a challenging read, and its probably down to me over complicating things rather than keeping it simple! I do like experimenting with form, and I love rich text, its not everyones mug of coffee but it feels the most natural to me.

In essence, the story is about a woman finding herself gradually, against the stage of a failed relationship. I've tried to establish the theme of life just being a grand stage, where we are the principal characters in our lives and thus live in our own perpetuated drama (coupled with five "acts"). I didn't develop it as much as I would have liked, but hope this gives a bit more context to understand it.

Thanks again, and good luck with your own writing. I'll try and post something a bit more traditional in future

__________________
"I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principals better than anything else in the world" - Oscar Wilde

Leamadzw

I really like the idea I saw a film that worked in a similar way. (It was french, not sure what it was called) and it was really clever.

I'm the same as you , in the sense i write in a way that's natural for me, but instead of mine being quite complicated, my writing seems to start really slowly, therefore, boring the reader lol.. Yours wasnt boring. If anything the complete opposite.

There will definately be people who can keep up with this though. I have concentration issues so anything i read has to be simple otherwise i end up re-reading the same sentences and then just give up.

Irish_dude

Hey guys,

I'm new here so maybe I missed something - any reason why my story didn't get commented? Did it miss the mark? Was the structure a pain to follow? Anything offered would be greatly appreciated!!!

Thanks

__________________
"I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principals better than anything else in the world" - Oscar Wilde

Sam Winchester

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Irish_dude

Wow. Sam, I'm impressed and in your debt!

I agree on my use of sentence structure, its an area I've always struggled with. Flowery language: check, structure: erm...

Can you recommend any particular books or approaches I could adopt to help improve this department?

And once again, thank you.

Emmet

__________________
"I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principals better than anything else in the world" - Oscar Wilde

booker41

Cacophonic? that had me reaching for the dictionary LOL. I couldn't get pass the first paragraph.

Sam Winchester

The best book on punctuation and grammar, in my opinion, is William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White's The Elements of Style.

Sam.

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Irish_dude

For anyone else looking for this book, check the link below for an online version:

http://www.bartleby.com/141/

I found this in the resources area of this site - so thanks!

__________________
"I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principals better than anything else in the world" - Oscar Wilde