[Summer Writing Contest 2012] Standing on the Grave

GracefulDiscension. · 2012-06-12T20:44:29+00:00

Day One She looks into my eyes, our own game of chicken begins. She wants to know my secrets, not out of curiosity, but I think she just finds it sexy. I'm hesitant; my thoughts are swirling in my head, mocking me, taunting me on whether or not I should tell her. What she wants to know boils down to how the scar on my chest came to pass. My eyes break contact with hers. I’ve lost. Her lips curve mischievously as this game is hers now. She motions to the edge of my bed, no doubt knowing the weight my story carries. As I sit down next to her my cracked lips slowly open and I begin to tell my tale… “The rain fell on me as I cried. My father was an army general, a comedian, the hope of the Purists, and above all a great man. None of that mattered, though, when they told me he was dead. All I cared about was that I had lost my dad. My sobs were drowned out in the thundering clouds. I fell to my knees and screamed, punching the muddy ground. I still remember my dad telling me his war stories and the dark cloud in his eyes when he told them. He was always eager to cheer people up and make them laugh. Oh how I wished he would come back and tell me his death was all a big prank. I remember my sister trying to talk to me and her warm hand rubbing my back to console me. Exhaustion from the crying and screaming took a toll on me. I slowly passed out from the exhaustion. After that I never really slept soundly again.” As I finish Rachel places her palms on my chest. “Will, you know I love you right? Tell me how you got it, your scar I mean,” her fingers lightly brushing against the scar. "You still haven't explained that to me." “No… but it did signify the start of it all: the systemic genocide of the Purists on this side of the Blue Forest, my family falling apart, and this scar- the constant reminder of what I’ve lost.” I try to brush off her fingers but she places her hands on my face. "Don't brush me off, Will, I truly care about you. Never forget that!" I sigh and scratch my head. "I need some alone time Rachel." Tears begin to form in my eyes again, I'm still not over it... Before she can stop me I grab my coat and head out of the house. Jeremiah's passed out drunk so he won't care. The orchid field slowly passes me by as I slowly walk. I completely stop in front one of the trees. The initials WV and RM carved into the wood inside a big heart. I brush my fingers against it and smile. William Vale, and Rachel Morana initialed under the dark cloudy night... Not a single star to be seen anywhere. Slaves aren't allowed last names so I was hesitant when I first carved it. It was only at Rachel's prompting that I carved it down. She never did care about the fact I was technically her property. She always respects my privacy and need for space at times. The fact that she was interested in me was never hidden, she always took an opportunity to talk to me, tease me, make me feel human. And when Jeremiah beat me because he was drunk and bored, she would stick up for me. Little by little my heart opened up to her, which is why I told her about my father. He really was a great man. I sniff and wipe away the last of the tears in my eyes and face and sit down. I do something that I haven't done in years, pray to the old gods. Technically what I'm doing is illegal, but my relationship with Rachel isn't exactly allowed either. On this side of the Blue Forest most of the Purists were slaughtered, including my mother and sister. In a desperate act of wanting me to live she sold me to slavery. I've hated that woman since. Eventually I went back to Rachel's room and kissed her. It feels right to be with her, even if I may not be the best of guys. We slowly take each other's clothes off lie in bed, arms wrapped around one another. This is what it means for me to be alive, for me to feel the joy of being wanted, to be loved. We embrace as the night begins to end. Day Two When morning came it seemed… surreal. Almost like last night didn’t happen. That anyone could care for me, could love me at all seemed impossible. I turn my head to find Rachel sleeping, arms wrapped around mine. Her gentle breathing captivates me and I vow to protect this girl, even if it means my death. Her eyes begin to flutter open and her smile really grabs my heart. She yawns and stretches her arms. “Morning sleepy head,” I grin at her. She pretends to pout and puffs her cheeks. I kiss the top of her head, the tip of her nose, and finally on her lips. I hear light footsteps downstairs. I pay no attention to it. "You sleep good Will?" she stares into my eyes. "It's sleep well, and yes I did." I beam at her. Now the footsteps slowly begin to get louder. Something inside my head begins to click. Jeremiah always woke me in the morning and he always checked up on Rachel. If he finds me here like this, he’ll kill me! "It's your dad! I think he's coming up!" I panic and the intoxicated look in her eyes quickly gives way to fear. I frantically put on my clothes and get out of bed and just as I’m about to put on my shirt he walks in. “Rachel how’s my little angel do…ing…?” he pauses that question as he finally notices that I’m there putting on my clothing and that Rachel is naked. “Tell me I’m imagining things. And that my fucking daughter hasn’t slept WITH MY FUCKING SLAVE!!!!” He explodes and he pulls up his shirt to undo his belt. In one swift pull the belt snaked around him is fully out like a whip. He goes to strike Rachel and something inside me snaps. Instead of letting him do what he wants like I always do, I punch him clean in the jaw. “DON’T YOU FUCKING HIT MY GIRL, YOU FUCKING WASTE OF HUMAN LIFE. IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH ME YOU FUCKING DEAL WITH ME! YOU GOT THAT!” My fists continually pound on his face, his face a tomato. Rachel comes to stop me and in my frenzied rage is struck. Coming out of my stupor I realize what I’ve done. “Rachel… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” “It’s alright Will, it’s alright.” She begins to sob from the pain. As my back is turned, Jeremiah stabs me in the back of the gut. At first I feel a sharp prick into my back, but then it builds like fire and I scream. I fall to the floor my strength leaving me, I see Jeremiah move towards Rachel about to strike her. “NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!” I bellow and run after him, current plan to choke the living daylights out of him, as it takes all of my strength just to stand. I bring my curling hand to his throat. At the last minute he grabs Rachel and brings her in front of him. I look at my hand, stop, it keeps going, stop…, it grabs her throat and squeezes, STOP! Before my eyes her skin quickly ages and wrinkles. She dies before I can do anything. “YOU! YOU COWARDLY PIECE OF SHIT! FAKKU!” I scream at Jeremiah, my rage festering, growing. Kill. Destroy. Blood flowing. Scream. When I finally calm down tears form in my eyes as I look at what I’ve done. I place my hands on the cut in my back and the sliced skin begins to reform itself, almost as if I never had the wound in the first place. I stare at my hands as I bring them in front of my face. What is this power, this curse? That it killed the woman I love… the woman I cared about… I hate Jeremiah for thrusting this upon me, for thrusting her death upon me. I dreamed of freedom, I dreamed of escaping this pathetic slave life. But the slave master’s daughter broke through my icy heart. she gave me hope and gave me love when I had none. Now I have my freedom… but was it worth it? "I... I need to leave." I mutter to myself. I stagger out of the house, thoughts of what just happened weighing on my mind and body. I wander aimlessly, unsure of what to do...

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high_time

12 years ago

Cinia Pacifica wrote...

I wouldn't say style. Just the way of writing. But if a style does has it's flaws. The readers may not like it. And that could be potentially a huge problem.

Note: You may be assuming that he wrote for the fun of it (while he probably had some as he wrote it). But Gracey wants to win, and if he really does, he should be willing to make improvements for the sake of that goal, for the sake of betterment.

Also, I'm speaking while assuming that his style particularly has too many flaws as I'm making a response regarding this issue, caused by CoffeePrince. I'm not revealing any of my actual views regarding the entry's story/writing itself.

If that's the case I have no more comments about his writing~

While I did question the mindset of wanting an edge of competition and creating something that everyone will thought it's 'perfect' rather than creating what you truly wanted to express deep inside. If that's what he truly wants then I'll step out for now. Since I just don't understand that way of thinking, my words will come to no avail indeed hahaha~

GracefulDiscension.

12 years ago

CoffeePrince wrote...

Review #17

Note: A good writer will always change his style according to the reviews. If something isn't working, change it. I respect Jericho a great deal, so please don't assume that he owes you anything. In fact, you're lucky that he does review your stuff time and time again.

The Good: The very first part seeemed to grab the reader. Not only does the female character want to know more, but in essence, we are Rachel. We want to know more about this protagonist's dark past. We're left with questions such as, "who is this man?" or "who are the Purists?" or "what happened?" From here, we understand that he use to be an esteemed boy as his father was that hope of the Purists. Afterwards, things get a little dicy.

The OK: Jarring. Though my own form of writing is very much similar to yours: stream-of-thought, dictation style (the way we read it is the way we wanted to say it. This method of writing is very akin to theater or acting in general. Every comma/hyphen represents a dramatic pause or a list that tells the reader to take his/her time with it or speed through it. That said, there is an issue in that the reader has no idea which one to do). If this isn't the case, then please disregard. Nevertheless, I found this to be jarring in that, the way the stream-of-thought progressed seemed to be random. Though I personally can tell where you wanted me to pause, speed, dramatically feel, etc, I worry for anyone else. This way of writing is not a bad way as long as you give key hints as to what you want the reader to physically do. I personally like this style and enjoyed the story.

The Bad: You created this lore behind the character- and then never deliver. What about the scar? Nope, not telling... Ok, then what happened in the past? Nope, not telling... What on earth are the Purists? Nope, not telling... Do you see the issue here? A good story answers every question the reader has in the beginning and only raises more either if they, in of itself, will answer the first questions or all the previous questions were already answered. Granted there is that mythos/throughline that the reader follows throughout the story, but it's those little questions that make us continue reading.

Now that Blaze is my reviewer-in-arms, I agree with him. You've given his attributes as a son of a great general- thus either smart, has connections, or trained in some form of combat. Beating the shit out of a random guy is not a form of combat. I agree that if he has this background, then he should use it.

My senses are telling me you wanted to create the story of the tragic hero. The tragedy in a tragic hero is that no matter what he does, it all falls on top of him. His greatest strengths become his greatest weaknesses. In Oedipus Rex, he is a high-borne, intelligent, and morally righteous person. Because he killed his own father, since Oedipus was in the right, his quest to solve the plague only leads him to himself. That is the tragedy. That as great of a person as he is, his one mistake turned his world upside down.

Keep in mind that I would've answered the questions I raised, the Purists I was going to answer within the context of this entry, but there was a constraint that I faced, the word limit. The scar and the past however I wanted to leave most of it to imagination because there's a thing called Angst Dissonance. Basically the point where reader is fed up with the angst of the character and just give up on the piece. Also although this entry it can stand on its own somewhat it was meant to part of a greater story, which I intend write more of when the contest is over. I raised those questions so the reader was intrigued and wanted to know what these things were, and me being the bastard I am I just alluded to it. Of course I could've done this in better execution, but regardless revisions can't be done now. (Trust me I've done plenty of revisions before the deadline and somehow it's not enough. It's a bit unsettling.)

CoffeePrince

12 years ago

I understand Angst Dissonance, but the key is to have a revelation of sorts. Also this character isn't having any of that. He never complains and even doesn't tell the reader what is wrong with him.

Angst Dissonance is where the character keeps complaining until you're fed up. The important part is the reveal- when this character is called to action, does he finally suck it up and do it?

In your story, the character has a lot of good attributes as well as just being mopey. This isn't the same thing as Angst Dissonance.

GracefulDiscension.

12 years ago

CoffeePrince wrote...

Ah I see, well with the story I have in mind, it's going to take several chapters for everything to come together.

Ryssen

12 years ago

CoffeePrince wrote...

A good story answers every question the reader has in the beginning and only raises more either if they, in of itself, will answer the first questions or all the previous questions were already answered.

That's not 100% true. A good story lets you think about the questions and it needs to give enough information for you to try and solve it yourself. Take 2001: A Space Odyssey (Or any Kubrick movie) for example. The entire movie is a mindfuck. It answers almost no questions whatsoever. It leaves you to your imagination, because god only knows what can happen in space.

First post in Writing (and Lemons).

Cinia Pacifica Ojou-sama Writer

12 years ago

I'll be doing my reviews in the form in which the rubic, without the actual scores of course. I won't be too nice in my reviews(but I'll be as formal as I can be). So prepare yourself mentally!

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Review #01

Comments:

- Descriptions are somewhat awkward in some parts and well, they tell us almost nothing from what I can see. As Jerry had mentioned, the "thundering clouds," in the third paragraph. I assumed that it's there to refer to the clouds that are reflected in the main character's eyes. But the problem here is that it poorly helps the imagery, the wording is awkward and so it adversely effects the flow too. It does not compliment the actual meaning of the sentence or the plot either. If you aimed to write a good metaphor, I'd recommend you to read others' works that may contain some good descriptions and get more creative and think harder in the future.

- It leaves too many questions out for the readers to answer. Some parts feels too out of place. I know that some things can be left for the readers to assume or think up on their own, but in here; we lack some really basic information. While I do like the element of mystery - I hate the lack of tools (if you know what I mean) provided for us to figure anything out and assume for an answer to satisfy our curiosity. Supernatural is the first thing that comes to mind regarding this matter: You said that you intend to make chapters out of this and continue. But that doesn't really help this entry because it needs to be able to stand up on it's own against other entries. We don't know anything about the supernatural element that was abruptly added at the end of the tale for the sake of lasting anger of losing a loved one in the heart. Or the part about part about the main character himself: Why does he talk in that manner, when he's telling parts of his past to Rachel? Is he a poet or an author of novels or books himself? We don't know. Another flaw right there. I'd rather see all of those in the narration and not in the actual dialogues. I don't want to make it seem juvenile. But I just can't help but point these issues out.

- Why would a father kill his daughter just like that? I think the worst a father would do is lock his daughter up in the room after separating her from her lover and then kill her man. Though that is not very original, it's more probable.

- Fakku is squeezed in here in a rather odd manner. This effects the flow in an unfavorable way.

- We don't know how the scar was gained in the end? Hell, we don't know much about the main character's past as well. Much less why exactly his family was killed and what they were involved with.

- I think you did quite well in showing the feelings of the two lovers, in this piece.

In-depth views based on the categories:

Grammar/spelling: A few awkward wordings, rest seems fine.
Plot: Leaves too many questions. The core of the this story is barely reinforced, that refers to the out-of-place things. I like the element of mystery, though.
Themes: Nails romance properly, I suppose. However, I do like the dark-ish theme in here, which comes mostly from the past of the main character.
Flow: Not very smooth to read due to the wording and the inclusion of Fakku. I feel that it would have been better with "Game of Fakku chickens," but that's just me.
Originality: This is the good part, this story is mostly original. Except for the end where the lover is killed, which - upon thinking with common sense - doesn't seem very original.

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