Failed Sept Challenge? (1409 words)
Wind River
character sketch. Tendrils twisting with plot opportunities squirm their
way in, and when I try to squash them, they sit half-dead, waiting to be
nourished back to life. I'm posting anyway, just to force myself to keep
writing/reviewing and to get a story on this ng, which seems too quiet
at the moment. Also, Sooz wanted something to read.
There's no need to give detailed line-by-line crits. I know it's not as
smooth as it should be and is stilted in places, but I don't intend to
do much more with it, unless for some odd reason everybody here thinks
it's masterful, like a Wile Coyote trap for the roadrunner. :) I hope
some will enjoy it.
Thanks all.
Failed Sept Challenge?
By Wind River
"It's wrong!"
"You're just saying that, because she was your wife," Grandpa said.
"I'm looking out for her."
"She should marry him," Clyde said.
"No, she shouldn't!"
"Turn her loose, Marc," Grandmama said.
"There's no way he can love her. It's too soon. He's only after her money."
鉄he has no money," her sister, Joan, said.
"Marc, stop holding her back. Let her go." Clyde walked away and spoke
into a man's ear.
#
Mr. Hendersen sat with his eyes closed. He was holding Stella's hand.
The ceiling fan's chain tinkled against the motor, and the paddles
flickered shadows across his arms. Stella waited for him to speak.
Finally, he said, "There's a lot of discussion. They've gathered to help."
"What are they saying? Should I marry him?"
"The strongest voice says yes."
"Marc?"
"No. Clay? Cole? Clyde. Clyde, I think."
"Clyde? Uncle Clyde?"
"Yes."
"Why doesn't Marc speak?"
Mr. Hendersen opened his eyes. "He hasn't been on the other side long.
Maybe he can't come through yet."
"But why Clyde?"
"I don't know. I can't choose who comes through."
"Clyde says to marry Thomas?"
"Yes."
"Then I won't."
"What? Why not?"
"I never trusted Clyde when he was alive. Why should I start now?"
She handed the medium a donation and thanked him.
#
"Dammit Clyde! Why did you tell him that?" Marc said.
"Because you guys were arguing and keeping Mr. Hendersen waiting."
"She's *my* wife."
"Not anymore. You're dead."
"I'm not dead. I just don't have a body."
"Tell Stella that."
"She can't hear me."
#
The candlelight flickered, and Stella watched the flame through the red
glass. She took a sip of wine.
"Well?"
"Tom, I can't."
"Why not?"
"I still love Marc."
"He's gone, Stella."
"Sometimes I feel like he's around." She felt something cool brush
against her arm. There was nothing near.
#
The rain pelted the last maple leaf from the tree. It fell onto the wet,
matted leaves on the porch stairs. Stella stepped over it, but Thomas
picked it up and put in her hair. She kissed him, and they entered her house.
When she flipped on the light, Stella let out a gasp and brought her
hand to her mouth. All the drawers in the rolltop desk had been emptied
onto the living room floor. Muddy bootprints had crinkled papers and
make tracks up the stairs. Stella started for the steps, but Thomas
pulled her back outside and called the police with his cell phone.
#
"He's after her money. He had someone search the house while they were out."
"It wasn't him, Marc," Clyde said.
"Will you two stop arguing? She's my sister, and she needs our help."
Joan stroked Unatilla's mane. The unicorn nuzzled her.
"And how are you going to help?" Grandpa asked. "All you ever do is play
with that stupid unicorn."
"Grandpa! That's her job. She keeps those on the other side believing in
mythical creatures," Grandmama said.
"And what's your job? Pestering me? Lord knows you did enough of that
when we were alive."
#
Dreams of Marc telling her to look in the closet fragmented Stella's
sleep. A unicorn appeared, tossed its head, and stamped its feet. The
creature kneeled, and Stella climbed onto its back. They galloped away,
leaving a trail of sparkling light.
As they stood outside the window of a brick house, a golden leaf, edged
in silver, drifted onto the unicorn's mane. Stella picked the leaf from
its hair and listened to the voices within the house.
"I know he has a collection of gemstones. They must be worth a fortune."
"Well, where are they? We searched her whole house."
The voices faded, and the last nights of autumn traced the yellows and
reds with frost. Snow fluttered from the low clouds and collected on the
unicorn's fur. Stella rubbed her hand across the flakes and woke up. On
the pillow next to her was the golden leaf.
#
Thomas brought an inlaid box from his bedroom and opened it. Thousands
of small, cut stones sparkled against the silk lining. Stella picked up
several and rotated them in the light.
"They're not worth much. They're glass," he said.
"Then why was my house ransacked?"
"I don't know."
Stella glanced out the window. A pumpkin left over from Halloween
grinned from beneath a hat of snow. "Why did Marc have these in his
office? How do I know they're not worth anything?"
"Don't you trust me?"
"I want to."
He shoved the box across to her. "Here! Have 'em appraised."
"Tom, I don't want --"
"Just take 'em and go, Stella."
#
Marc, the gems are fake," Clyde said.
"There are real ones."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course."
"Does Thomas know?"
"No."
"Then he doesn't want her for the gem money."
"He might not want her at all now."
#
"She brought 'em in to be appraised," the jeweler said. "I told her
they're fake."
"Smart," Jim said, a grin spreading across his face.
"Even better, I bought the whole box for fifty bucks."
"I'll give ya my half tomorrow, George."
"No. You'll give me two hundred and sell 'em yourself."
"I thought ya told me this guy's gems were worth tens of thousands?" Jim
said. "I've never known ya to give up that kinda money."
"I don't want it traced back to the store."
"We've been partners for ten years. Why ya going straight on me?"
George tossed a broom to him, "We need to sweep up those dried
bootprints in back. I don't want no evidence linking me to the break-in.
#
"Where'd you go for the appraisal?" Thomas asked.
"George Watson's."
"And you sold them for fifty?"
"Yes."
"You got a good deal. Preston Jewelers said they're worthless."
#
"George, them stones are fake!"
"I know the gemologist. The one who sold to that dead man."
"You trusted him? Didn't ya check ç²—m out?"
George held out his hands, palms up. "He's reputable. Wouldn't give me
the details. Just said the guy was a good customer."
Jim grabbed him by the shirt. "I want my two hundred back."
"Why don't ya press charges?"
"I can't."
"I know."
"You bastard! You knew they were fake." Jim shoved him.
George fell against a display case. When he rubbed his head, it felt
wet. He looked at his hand. It was smeared with blood. As he was trying
to calm his nausea, a dark car pulled up out front. A man and a woman,
holding papers, got out and entered the store.
Jim met the woman at the counter. "Hey, I tried to sell you some gems
earlier. Did you change your mind?"
"No. I'm Detective Pollack, and this is Detective Anderson."
#
"Hey Marc! It looks like Thomas has forgiven Stella," Clyde said.
"Why are you surprised?" Grandmamma asked.
"Yeah, you whispered, 'Go see Mr. Hendersen,' in his ear every night,"
Grandpa said.
"But I talked through the medium and convinced Thomas to forgive her,"
Joan said.
"He would've forgiven her anyway," Grandpa said.
"You seem quiet, Marc. What are you thinking?" Clyde asked.
"That Thomas might be good for her. She never hears or sees me anymore."
"You're finally letting her live again?" Joan asked.
Marc nodded. He kissed Stella and said, "May you live everyday of your life."
#
Stella felt a tickle on her forehead and looked in the mirror, but saw
nothing. While gazing at herself, she decided it was time to move on
with her life and clean out Marc's possessions.
As she was removing his clothes from the closet, she noticed the jacket
he wore when they first met. It hadn't fit him in over ten years, yet he
had kept it. What a sentimental man, she thought. She lifted it off the
hanger and almost dropped it. It was much heavier than she had expected.
She unzipped the pockets and discovered twenty-three small, velvet bags.
After opening the drawstring of one bag, she found a matching set of
sixteen teardrop emeralds. She opened another and found a variety of opals.
She gathered the bags and called Thomas.
#
"She still has that golden leaf edged in silver."
"Marc, have you been spying on her again?" Joan asked while feeding an
apple to her unicorn.
"I'm just making sure she's okay."
"Uh-huh."
"Really. She and Thomas seem happy."
"Of course they are. They've been together for ten years."
"Has it been that long?"
"Yes. Now, come help me groom the unicorns. We'll be welcoming Mr.
Hendersen tomorrow."
THE END
Carter8882
>From: Wind River wind...@voyager.net
>Date: 9/17/03 8:38 AM
>"It's wrong!"
You can't get a better opener than this.
>Mr. Hendersen opened his eyes. "He hasn't been on the other side long.
>Maybe he can't come through yet."
This is where I got what was going on.
>"Will you two stop arguing? She's my sister, and she needs our help."
>Joan stroked Unatilla's mane. The unicorn nuzzled her.
That cursed unicorn...
However, you've done a great job of making it an important element of the
story.
>As they stood outside the window of a brick house, a golden leaf, edged
>in silver, drifted onto the unicorn's mane. Stella picked the leaf from
>its hair and listened to the voices within the house.
You are a master at description.
I like this story, but it's obvious to me that you feel hampered by the
Challenge requirements.
You've got a lot of very good elements, drama, humor, attractive characters. I
really think you should work this out a little more, focusing on Stella's story
-- that feels like the heart of the story -- and diminish, but not eliminate
the jewel thread.
Scott
Wind River
>
> >Subject: Failed Sept Challenge? (1409 words)
> >From: Wind River wind...@voyager.net
> >Date: 9/17/03 8:38 AM
>
> >"It's wrong!"
>
> You can't get a better opener than this.
Lol. At first, I had "I've got a bad feeling about this" to fit the
quote requirement. That was an awful opener!
> That cursed unicorn...
>
> However, you've done a great job of making it an important element of the
> story.
It does feel inserted though. I probably should've just had it in the
dream sequence where it fits better.
> >As they stood outside the window of a brick house, a golden leaf, edged
> >in silver, drifted onto the unicorn's mane. Stella picked the leaf from
> >its hair and listened to the voices within the house.
>
> You are a master at description.
Thank you. I guess you can tell I enjoy that aspect of writing.
> I like this story, but it's obvious to me that you feel hampered by the
> Challenge requirements.
I suppose I'm a "beginning, middle, and end" kind of writer. Even in
non-tradional story telling, I like having a sense of structure.
> You've got a lot of very good elements, drama, humor, attractive characters. I
> really think you should work this out a little more, focusing on Stella's story
> -- that feels like the heart of the story -- and diminish, but not eliminate
> the jewel thread.
I did two versions. The other one only has about three or four lines in
the jewelry store. I prefer that, but posted the longer one to create
more stories running through it to fit the challenge better.
I appreciate the feedback. I plan to glean this one after the challenge
is over. There are some images I might reuse, and I like flipflopping
between the dead and the living. Thanks, Scott.
-Sue
jpg-writer
This story has legs to run... I've had a few glasses of wine, but I don't
think I'm too impaired:)
On the first read I didn't follow the character's relationships until I
reached the second segment. On the second read (knowing who is who) I
really liked the banter of Grandpa, Clyde, and family watching over Stella.
I got a clear idea of their characters and how they felt about each other
and Stella. Marc, I think had the least to say and perhaps should be
developed more. He has more at stake in seeing Stella happy. The conflict
with the jewels added a nice twist, and perhaps gave the story a subplot to
Marc's main plot. I don't think anyone got really plotless with this
challenge, that's the inherent nature of story telling. However, the
dialogue and character shifts hit "non traditional" on the nail. I think
adding a few details would round out the story and make it appealing for
publishing.
Details:
How did Marc die? Is it tied to the jewels? How does she know Tom? Did
Marc know him? We can assume the grandparents died of old age, but how did
her sister die? I think that she's partial to unicorns is telling of her
personality; that is a nice tie-in with the challenge requirements.
I have a few inline comments below:
<snip>
> "Marc, stop holding her back. Let her go." Clyde walked away and spoke
> into a man's ear.
>
> #
>
> Mr. Hendersen sat with his eyes closed. He was holding Stella's hand.
> The ceiling fan's chain tinkled against the motor, and the paddles
> flickered shadows across his arms. Stella waited for him to speak.
I like how this ties these two segments together. It's subtle, and does the
job well.
<snip>
The voices faded, and the last nights of autumn traced the yellows and
> reds with frost. Snow fluttered from the low clouds and collected on the
> unicorn's fur. Stella rubbed her hand across the flakes and woke up. On
> the pillow next to her was the golden leaf.
Having the leaf on her pillow seems like too obvious a clue that Marc is
still near. Perhaps she can awaken and see a golden leaf clinging to the
dew on the window and infer from her dream that it's a message, but it's
still ambivilant to the reader's interpretation.
Your story could have been told with a really dark side to it, but I liked
that it was light and had a nurturing feel that came through Marc's concern.
The dialogue was convincing and kept me reading. I almost wish I had an
Uncle Clyde.
Have a good night.
Judie
Svira Kurcu
This thing is better than you give it credit for. Yes, it does have a
plot, so MK may disqualify it, but it's a nice story. I like the fact
that your dead people have personalities. Mine are usually ciphers and
talk about nothing other than karma.
You said no detailed crits, so I'll shut up now, but I can't resist
making one comment. It's actually Wile E. Coyote.
the Whistler
Wind River wrote:
> Sorry, MK, I can't seem to do plotless, unless I'm working on a
> character sketch. Tendrils twisting with plot opportunities squirm their
> way in, and when I try to squash them, they sit half-dead, waiting to be
> nourished back to life. I'm posting anyway, just to force myself to keep
> writing/reviewing and to get a story on this ng, which seems too quiet
> at the moment. Also, Sooz wanted something to read.
>
> There's no need to give detailed line-by-line crits. I know it's not as
> smooth as it should be and is stilted in places, but I don't intend to
> do much more with it, unless for some odd reason everybody here thinks
> it's masterful, like a Wile Coyote trap for the roadrunner. :) I hope
> some will enjoy it.
>
> Thanks all.
>
>
> Failed Sept Challenge?
> By Wind River
>
> "It's wrong!"
>
> "You're just saying that, because she was your wife," Grandpa said.
>
> "I'm looking out for her."
>
> "She should marry him," Clyde said.
>
> "No, she shouldn't!"
>
> "Turn her loose, Marc," Grandmama said.
>
> "There's no way he can love her. It's too soon. He's only after her money."
>
> “She has no money," her sister, Joan, said.
> "You trusted him? Didn't ya check ‘em out?"
Wildepad
wrote:
>Sorry, MK, I can't seem to do plotless, unless I'm working on a
>character sketch. Tendrils twisting with plot opportunities squirm their
>way in, and when I try to squash them, they sit half-dead, waiting to be
>nourished back to life. I'm posting anyway, just to force myself to keep
>writing/reviewing and to get a story on this ng, which seems too quiet
>at the moment. Also, Sooz wanted something to read.
>
>There's no need to give detailed line-by-line crits. I know it's not as
>smooth as it should be and is stilted in places, but I don't intend to
>do much more with it, unless for some odd reason everybody here thinks
>it's masterful, like a Wile Coyote trap for the roadrunner. :) I hope
>some will enjoy it.
>
>Thanks all.
You're right, you can't do plotless. :)
This was a fine story, although very sparse and somewhat confusing, to
me, in places because of that.
I suspect you should rewrite this with more attention to the story and
less to the requirements. I don't know who publishes theEllery
Queen-type of stories anymore (or if the zine of the same name is
still in business), but I think it would be a natural.
Thanks for posting it.
Wind River
>
> Sue:
>
> This thing is better than you give it credit for. Yes, it does have a
> plot, so MK may disqualify it, but it's a nice story. I like the fact
> that your dead people have personalities. Mine are usually ciphers and
> talk about nothing other than karma.
>
> You said no detailed crits, so I'll shut up now, but I can't resist
> making one comment. It's actually Wile E. Coyote.
Thanks for reading, Whistler. Lol, if it's like one of those coyote
traps, does that mean it'll blow up in my face? I may come back to it
and rework it without the challenge restraints after I give it a rest. I
appreciate the feedback.
-Sue
Wind River
>
> You're right, you can't do plotless. :)
It sneaks in, and I can't resist playing with it. :)
> This was a fine story, although very sparse and somewhat confusing, to
> me, in places because of that.
>
> I suspect you should rewrite this with more attention to the story and
> less to the requirements. I don't know who publishes theEllery
> Queen-type of stories anymore (or if the zine of the same name is
> still in business), but I think it would be a natural.
>
> Thanks for posting it.
Thanks Wildepad. "Ellery Queen Magazine" is still around, but I'm not
sure they'd want the ghost story aspect of it. I say that without ever
having read an issue of it though.
If I do rework this story, I'll definitely take it out of the challenge.
Wind River
>
> Hiya,
Hi Judie!
> This story has legs to run... I've had a few glasses of wine, but I don't
> think I'm too impaired:)
Just relaxes you for the read. :)
> On the first read I didn't follow the character's relationships until I
> reached the second segment. On the second read (knowing who is who) I
> really liked the banter of Grandpa, Clyde, and family watching over Stella.
> I got a clear idea of their characters and how they felt about each other
> and Stella. Marc, I think had the least to say and perhaps should be
Yes, he does need more development. Stella does too.
> developed more. He has more at stake in seeing Stella happy. The conflict
> with the jewels added a nice twist, and perhaps gave the story a subplot to
> Marc's main plot. I don't think anyone got really plotless with this
> challenge, that's the inherent nature of story telling. However, the
> dialogue and character shifts hit "non traditional" on the nail. I think
> adding a few details would round out the story and make it appealing for
> publishing.
Since I don't do plotless well or non-linear, I was hoping the switching
between the two worlds would make it non-tradional. Publishing? Yikes!
> Details:
> How did Marc die? Is it tied to the jewels? How does she know Tom? Did
> Marc know him? We can assume the grandparents died of old age, but how did
> her sister die? I think that she's partial to unicorns is telling of her
> personality; that is a nice tie-in with the challenge requirements.
I had a few lines about Tom being someone he used to work with, but took
it out. These are good questions, and if I take it further, I'll tie it
all up better.
> I have a few inline comments below:
>
> <snip>
> > "Marc, stop holding her back. Let her go." Clyde walked away and spoke
> > into a man's ear.
> >
> > #
> >
> > Mr. Hendersen sat with his eyes closed. He was holding Stella's hand.
> > The ceiling fan's chain tinkled against the motor, and the paddles
> > flickered shadows across his arms. Stella waited for him to speak.
>
> I like how this ties these two segments together. It's subtle, and does the
> job well.
Thanks. I didn't want to call attention to the fact they were dead at
first. I kind of wanted to put the reader in their world naturally and
bring that out later. I'm glad it worked.
> <snip>
> The voices faded, and the last nights of autumn traced the yellows and
> > reds with frost. Snow fluttered from the low clouds and collected on the
> > unicorn's fur. Stella rubbed her hand across the flakes and woke up. On
> > the pillow next to her was the golden leaf.
>
> Having the leaf on her pillow seems like too obvious a clue that Marc is
> still near. Perhaps she can awaken and see a golden leaf clinging to the
> dew on the window and infer from her dream that it's a message, but it's
> still ambivilant to the reader's interpretation.
Lol, for once, I didn't have any symbolic reason in mind for the leaf --
really unusal for me. It was going to take off in another plot thread
where it would have magical powers. She would think things and the leaf
would bring them to her. I let the offshoot die, but left the leaf.
You're right, though, it does seem like a symbol of Marc, and I like the
idea of him sending something to her from beyond. Thanks, Judie. You've
sent me another direction. I may revisit this story afterall. :)
> Your story could have been told with a really dark side to it, but I liked
> that it was light and had a nurturing feel that came through Marc's concern.
> The dialogue was convincing and kept me reading. I almost wish I had an
> Uncle Clyde.
Originally, I was going dark with it, having Thomas gain her trust and
saying the gems are worthless when they're not and taking the money. I
had even more plot twists, so I decided light might be nice instead.
Thanks, Judie. I appreciate the comments. Wish I had an Uncle Clyde too.
-Sue
simpson
news:3F6863E1...@voyager.net...
> Sorry, MK, I can't seem to do plotless, unless I'm working on a
> character sketch. Tendrils twisting with plot opportunities squirm their
> way in, and when I try to squash them, they sit half-dead, waiting to be
> nourished back to life. I'm posting anyway, just to force myself to keep
> writing/reviewing and to get a story on this ng, which seems too quiet
> at the moment. Also, Sooz wanted something to read.
>
> There's no need to give detailed line-by-line crits. I know it's not as
> smooth as it should be and is stilted in places, but I don't intend to
> do much more with it, unless for some odd reason everybody here thinks
> it's masterful, like a Wile Coyote trap for the roadrunner. :) I hope
> some will enjoy it.
>
> Thanks all.
>
I know you said not to but, couldn't resist. If I don't do it this way it
doesn't feel right. :-) I haven't read anything else on this, so please
forgive any repetition.
>
> Failed Sept Challenge?
Okay, this is a question .. dunno yet? What was the challenge? Now, I know
this isn't you so please don't come back yelling at me. You have asked a
perfectly reasonable question, it just jogged my mind that's all. Don't you
hate it when people put up a story for review and before you've even had a
look at it they are putting you off by telling you how awful it is? I know
it's a defence mechanism, but I always think, well if it's that bad, why
post it?
Okay whinge for the day over. :-)
> By Wind River
>
> "It's wrong!"
Nice start, personally I like enigmatic beginings. Already I'm asking "What
is?"
>
> "You're just saying that, because she was your wife," Grandpa said.
>
> "I'm looking out for her."
>
> "She should marry him," Clyde said.
>
> "No, she shouldn't!"
>
> "Turn her loose, Marc," Grandmama said.
>
> "There's no way he can love her. It's too soon. He's only after her
money."
>
> "She has no money," her sister, Joan, said.
>
> "Marc, stop holding her back. Let her go." Clyde walked away and spoke
> into a man's ear.
>
> #
>
> Mr. Hendersen sat with his eyes closed. He was holding Stella's hand.
> The ceiling fan's chain tinkled against the motor, and the paddles
> flickered shadows across his arms.
Lovely!
Stella waited for him to speak.
>
> Finally, he said, "There's a lot of discussion. They've gathered to help."
>
> "What are they saying? Should I marry him?"
>
> "The strongest voice says yes."
>
> "Marc?"
>
> "No. Clay? Cole? Clyde. Clyde, I think."
>
> "Clyde? Uncle Clyde?"
>
> "Yes."
>
> "Why doesn't Marc speak?"
>
> Mr. Hendersen opened his eyes. "He hasn't been on the other side long.
> Maybe he can't come through yet."
Oh, very nice. Like it.
>
> "But why Clyde?"
>
> "I don't know. I can't choose who comes through."
>
> "Clyde says to marry Thomas?"
>
> "Yes."
>
> "Then I won't."
>
> "What? Why not?"
>
> "I never trusted Clyde when he was alive. Why should I start now?"
Okay give me something to pick, I'm starting to resemble a nodding dog
here... Liking it.
>
> She handed the medium a donation and thanked him.
Just a donation? nice medium.
>
> #
>
> "Dammit Clyde! Why did you tell him that?" Marc said.
>
> "Because you guys were arguing and keeping Mr. Hendersen waiting."
>
> "She's *my* wife."
Hah gotcha! I don't like this. I think, purely from an asthetic point of
view, that italics would look better.
>
> "Not anymore. You're dead."
>
> "I'm not dead. I just don't have a body."
>
> "Tell Stella that."
>
> "She can't hear me."
Nice dialogue, they remind me of the two old blokes up in the gallery on the
muppets.
>
> #
>
> The candlelight flickered, and Stella watched the flame through the red
> glass. She took a sip of wine.
>
> "Well?"
>
> "Tom, I can't."
>
> "Why not?"
>
> "I still love Marc."
>
> "He's gone, Stella."
>
> "Sometimes I feel like he's around." She felt something cool brush
> against her arm. There was nothing near.
>
> #
>
> The rain pelted the last maple leaf from the tree. It fell onto the wet,
> matted leaves on the porch stairs. Stella stepped over it, but Thomas
> picked it up and put in her hair. She kissed him, and they entered her
house.
Nice touch, I like him .. she should marry him.
>
> When she flipped on the light, Stella let out a gasp and brought her
> hand to her mouth. All the drawers in the rolltop desk had been emptied
> onto the living room floor. Muddy bootprints had crinkled papers and
> make tracks up the stairs. Stella started for the steps, but Thomas
> pulled her back outside and called the police with his cell phone.
>
> #
>
> "He's after her money. He had someone search the house while they were
out."
>
> "It wasn't him, Marc," Clyde said.
>
> "Will you two stop arguing? She's my sister, and she needs our help."
> Joan stroked Unatilla's mane. The unicorn nuzzled her.
Oooo kay ....hhmm not sure, reserving judgement on that bit until we see
where we're going. Nice name though, and mane probably.
>
> "And how are you going to help?" Grandpa asked. "All you ever do is play
> with that stupid unicorn."
And why not? unicorn's are hard to come by.
>
> "Grandpa! That's her job. She keeps those on the other side believing in
> mythical creatures," Grandmama said.
>
> "And what's your job? Pestering me? Lord knows you did enough of that
> when we were alive."
>
> #
>
> Dreams of Marc telling her to look in the closet fragmented Stella's
> sleep. A unicorn appeared, tossed its head, and stamped its feet. The
> creature kneeled, and Stella climbed onto its back. They galloped away,
> leaving a trail of sparkling light.
>
Alright you've convinced me.
> As they stood outside the window of a brick house, a golden leaf, edged
> in silver, drifted onto the unicorn's mane. Stella picked the leaf from
> its hair and listened to the voices within the house.
>
> "I know he has a collection of gemstones. They must be worth a fortune."
>
> "Well, where are they? We searched her whole house."
>
> The voices faded, and the last nights of autumn traced the yellows and
> reds with frost.
Pretty description.
Snow fluttered from the low clouds and collected on the
> unicorn's fur. Stella rubbed her hand across the flakes and woke up. On
> the pillow next to her was the golden leaf.
>
> #
>
> Thomas brought an inlaid box from his bedroom and opened it. Thousands
> of small, cut stones sparkled against the silk lining. Stella picked up
> several and rotated them in the light.
>
> "They're not worth much. They're glass," he said.
>
> "Then why was my house ransacked?"
>
> "I don't know."
>
> Stella glanced out the window. A pumpkin left over from Halloween
> grinned from beneath a hat of snow. "Why did Marc have these in his
> office? How do I know they're not worth anything?"
>
> "Don't you trust me?"
>
> "I want to."
>
> He shoved the box across to her. "Here! Have 'em appraised."
>
> "Tom, I don't want --"
>
> "Just take 'em and go, Stella."
>
> #
>
> Marc, the gems are fake," Clyde said.
Oops you missed a quotation mark. Which is good because I destest people who
are good at punctuation. :-)
> "You trusted him? Didn't ya check 'em out?"
Sorry forgot to pass my inane comments.
Awwww, I don't like mushy love stories but this was cute and very nicely
told. The spirits made the story. Nice characterisation. I don't think it's
a story that will stay with me forever, like for instance, Kodak moment. I
found it again in the archive today. I remember loving that, and the rotten
author only posted the one chapter and then scraped it. Wonder if he ever
took it up again and got it published? my mate Amazon would know. Anyway,
nice story, good characterisation, not too much waffle and very nicely
written with everything where it should be (except for one "). To answer
your question, I don't think it's failed at anything. Still don't know what
the challenge was, but I'm guessing unicorns, ghosts and fake jewels in an
autumn setting. I could see this sitting very nicely in the midle of an
anthology.
Thanks for posting.
Sooz.
--
Please check out me and my books here.
Wind River
>
> I know you said not to but, couldn't resist. If I don't do it this way it
> doesn't feel right. :-) I haven't read anything else on this, so please
> forgive any repetition.
Not a problem. Thanks.
> > Failed Sept Challenge?
>
> Okay, this is a question .. dunno yet? What was the challenge? Now, I know
> this isn't you so please don't come back yelling at me. You have asked a
> perfectly reasonable question, it just jogged my mind that's all. Don't you
> hate it when people put up a story for review and before you've even had a
> look at it they are putting you off by telling you how awful it is? I know
> it's a defence mechanism, but I always think, well if it's that bad, why
> post it?
I posted it because the ng was dead and needed fiction. I had planned to
keep this one until the end of the month, smoothing it more to make it a
more satisifying read. Oh well, sometimes it's better to get feedback
before it's too polished.
> > "It's wrong!"
>
> Nice start, personally I like enigmatic beginings. Already I'm asking "What
> is?"
I like those types too, but I also enjoy a nice mood setter sometimes.
> > Mr. Hendersen sat with his eyes closed. He was holding Stella's hand.
> > The ceiling fan's chain tinkled against the motor, and the paddles
> > flickered shadows across his arms.
>
> Lovely!
Thank you.
> > Mr. Hendersen opened his eyes. "He hasn't been on the other side long.
> > Maybe he can't come through yet."
>
> Oh, very nice. Like it.
Thanks again.
> > "I never trusted Clyde when he was alive. Why should I start now?"
>
> Okay give me something to pick, I'm starting to resemble a nodding dog
> here... Liking it.
Lol. Are you trying to give me a swelled head?
> > She handed the medium a donation and thanked him.
>
> Just a donation? nice medium.
I was thinking of those ones in spiritualist churches who don't do it
just for money.
> > #
> >
> > "Dammit Clyde! Why did you tell him that?" Marc said.
> >
> > "Because you guys were arguing and keeping Mr. Hendersen waiting."
> >
> > "She's *my* wife."
>
> Hah gotcha! I don't like this. I think, purely from an asthetic point of
> view, that italics would look better.
Yes. You're right. I was thinking emphasis and forgot that denotes bold.
I sure wish there was a way to italicize and boldface on usenet.
> > "Not anymore. You're dead."
> >
> > "I'm not dead. I just don't have a body."
> >
> > "Tell Stella that."
> >
> > "She can't hear me."
>
> Nice dialogue, they remind me of the two old blokes up in the gallery on the
> muppets.
Thank you. I fell in love with the idea of these dead people continuing
their constant banter just as they had when alive. I'm quirky sometimes.
> > The rain pelted the last maple leaf from the tree. It fell onto the wet,
> > matted leaves on the porch stairs. Stella stepped over it, but Thomas
> > picked it up and put in her hair. She kissed him, and they entered her
> house.
>
> Nice touch, I like him .. she should marry him.
I'll tell her you said so. :)
> > "Will you two stop arguing? She's my sister, and she needs our help."
> > Joan stroked Unatilla's mane. The unicorn nuzzled her.
>
> Oooo kay ....hhmm not sure, reserving judgement on that bit until we see
> where we're going. Nice name though, and mane probably.
A pet unicorn was part of the challenge requirements.
> > "And how are you going to help?" Grandpa asked. "All you ever do is play
> > with that stupid unicorn."
>
> And why not? unicorn's are hard to come by.
Yeah. I'd love that job.
> > The voices faded, and the last nights of autumn traced the yellows and
> > reds with frost.
>
> Pretty description.
Description is my most favorite part of writing. I have to restrain myself.
> > Marc, the gems are fake," Clyde said.
>
> Oops you missed a quotation mark. Which is good because I destest people who
> are good at punctuation. :-)
Lol. Good catch.
> Awwww, I don't like mushy love stories but this was cute and very nicely
> told. The spirits made the story. Nice characterisation. I don't think it's
> a story that will stay with me forever, like for instance, Kodak moment. I
> found it again in the archive today. I remember loving that, and the rotten
> author only posted the one chapter and then scraped it. Wonder if he ever
> took it up again and got it published? my mate Amazon would know. Anyway,
> nice story, good characterisation, not too much waffle and very nicely
> written with everything where it should be (except for one "). To answer
> your question, I don't think it's failed at anything. Still don't know what
> the challenge was, but I'm guessing unicorns, ghosts and fake jewels in an
> autumn setting. I could see this sitting very nicely in the midle of an
> anthology.
Thank you, Sooz. The challenge wanted plotless, non-traditional, and
non-linear. There had to be a conversation between at least five people,
a quote from a song or book or somthing, and the mention of a pet
unicorn. I got most of it, but I have a difficult time doing plotless
and non-linear. I'm not sure it satisfies those criteria, but it was fun
to write. I appreciate the feedback.
-Sue
Alaric McDermott
No it isn't. That's just a lot of rot.
> "There's no way he can love her. It's too soon. He's only after her money." "She has no money," her sister, Joan, said.
Good point.
> Clyde walked away and spoke into a man's ear.
That sounds a bit odd.
> "What are they saying? Should I marry him?"
Why should she care? Do we get to know that?
> Mr. Hendersen opened his eyes. "He hasn't been on the other side long. Maybe he can't come through yet."
Ah. Got it.
> "I don't know. I can't choose who comes through."
Oh, I had an awful experience with this stuff – almost made me believe
it. A psychic lady of my acquaintance whose personal interests were
best served by telling me to do one thing was telling me the other –
and her eyes were – well, weird.
> "I never trusted Clyde when he was alive. Why should I start now?"
Heh. Mind you, she's a bit weak to make decisions on that basis.
> "Sometimes I feel like he's around." She felt something cool brush against her arm. There was nothing near.
Oo-er. Nice.
> Stella started for the steps, but Thomas pulled her back outside and called the police with his cell phone.
This is good stuff.
"Will you two stop arguing? She's my sister, and she needs our help."
Joan stroked Unatilla's mane. The unicorn nuzzled her.
Allo. In comes the unicorn. So why unicorns in the afterlife? Eh? Eh?
> "Grandpa! That's her job. She keeps those on the other side believing in mythical creatures," Grandmama said.
B*ll*cks! <g>. Get rid of this stuff when you edit it as
non-challenge.
> On the pillow next to her was the golden leaf.
Excellent.
"Just take 'em and go, Stella."
And again.
> "Then he doesn't want her for the gem money." "He might not want her at all now."
Bad ghosties.
> "She brought 'em in to be appraised," the jeweler said. "I told her they're fake."
Er. Weird. So why didn't Marc say the ones she had were real instead
of saying there must be other ones?
> George tossed a broom to him, "We need to sweep up those dried bootprints in back. I don't want no evidence linking me to the break-in.
Jim and George? Who they?
> "You got a good deal. Preston Jewelers said they're worthless."
Hmmm. So he's in it too?
> "That Thomas might be good for her. She never hears or sees me anymore."
No erotic pot making, then? Ohhhh, my love….
> She unzipped the pockets and discovered twenty-three small, velvet
bags. After opening the drawstring of one bag, she found a matching
set of sixteen teardrop emeralds. She opened another and found a
variety of opals.
Ah. Je comprends.
"Yes. Now, come help me groom the unicorns. We'll be welcoming Mr.
Hendersen tomorrow."
Excellent story. Well planned and plotted, well presented. Oh – you
weren't supposed to plot it. Ah, well. Never mind, eh? <g>
Patrick Null
"Wind River" <wind...@voyager.net> wrote in message
news:3F6863E1...@voyager.net...
> Sorry, MK, I can't seem to do plotless, unless I'm >working on a
> character sketch. Tendrils twisting with plot >opportunities squirm their
> way in, and when I try to squash them, they sit half->dead, waiting to be
> nourished back to life. I'm posting anyway, just to >force myself to keep
> writing/reviewing and to get a story on this ng, which >seems too quiet
> at the moment. Also, Sooz wanted something to read.
>
> There's no need to give detailed line-by-line crits. I >know it's not as
> smooth as it should be and is stilted in places, but I >don't intend to
> do much more with it, unless for some odd reason >everybody here thinks
> it's masterful, like a Wile Coyote trap for the >roadrunner. :) I hope
> some will enjoy it.
>
> Thanks all.
>
>
> Failed Sept Challenge?
> By Wind River
Hi, Sue! I'm not trying to swell your head, but failed or not, this is the
best darn thing I ever read from you. Period. I was in it from beginning
to end, and the ghosts communicating from the other side is a nice concept.
You're in fine form here. Got a few nits below:
>
> "It's wrong!"
Nice opening, pulls me in.
> "Marc, stop holding her back. Let her go." Clyde >walked away and spoke
> into a man's ear.
Who is this man? This is odd. I would assume they would all know who he
was? What did he whisper? Why is that detail even relevant?
> The ceiling fan's chain tinkled against the motor, and >the paddles
> flickered shadows across his arms. Stella waited for >him to speak.
Nice scene setting.
> Mr. Hendersen opened his eyes. "He hasn't been on >the other side long.
> Maybe he can't come through yet."
Ah! This is where I became intrigued.
> "I never trusted Clyde when he was alive. Why should >I start now?"
LOL!!!!
> "She's *my* wife."
>
> "Not anymore. You're dead."
Heh. Good point. How do you respond to that one?
> "Sometimes I feel like he's around." She felt something >cool brush
> against her arm. There was nothing near.
You could probably get rid of there was nothing there. In a story of ghosts
and mediums, we'll get the hint, especially since you said something cool
brushed against her arm. If you still want to keep it, why not give us a
description of the room without explicitly coming out and saying there is
nothing there? Like: She felt something cool against her skin, but when
she looked, all she saw was__________________________________(description of
the room)
> The rain pelted the last maple leaf from the tree. It fell >onto the wet,
> matted leaves on the porch stairs.
Probably a better word for on? Make your prose sparkle with verbs. Ex: It
fell onto the wet, matted leaves that covered the porch stairs.
>Stella started for the steps, but Thomas
> pulled her back outside and called the police with his >cell phone.
There's a way to make this more showy and less telly. It's like you're in a
hurry to get on with the rest of the story.
> "Grandpa! That's her job. She keeps those on the >other side believing in
> mythical creatures," Grandmama said.
Hmmmm..........why does SHE get the job? Mythical creatures have been
around for centuries. I woulda thought someone who is ancient would be
looking after the unicorn, like Homer or something.
> Marc, the gems are fake," Clyde said.
Beginning quote, miss.
> George fell against a display case. When he rubbed his >head, it felt
> wet. He looked at his hand. It was smeared with >blood.
I have to make an observation here, Sue. You're probably the best one I
know(besides Hank) that is awesome at scenery and scene setting. It's the
painter in you. But you're not so good at action description. The above
reads clinical, mechanical. For example, smooth out the action, bring us
into the story, make us believe that that is happening, I want to feel the
guy's emotions. Here's an example: George fell against a display case and
his head thunked against the glass. Excruciating pain. He felt his head,
and when he brought his hand down, he saw that his fingers were flecked with
blood. Shit, that hurt.
Don't speed through the action, because, that is what draws us in, believe
it or not.
My thoughts only.
> "Marc, have you been spying on her again?" Joan >asked while feeding an
> apple to her unicorn.
Nice detail.
> "Yes. Now, come help me groom the unicorns. We'll >be welcoming Mr.
> Hendersen tomorrow."
Heh. Nice ending.
If you wanted to make this non-traditional, you could take the various
scenes and just mix them up. That would achieve the purpose.
Great entry, Sue, failed or not, it was one of your best.
Take care.
Wind River
>
> Wind River <wind...@voyager.net> wrote in message news:<3F6863E1...@voyager.net>...
> > "It's wrong!"
>
> No it isn't. That's just a lot of rot.
Lol, good first line for a story: "It's rot!"
> > "There's no way he can love her. It's too soon. He's only after her money." "She has no money," her sister, Joan, said.
>
> Good point.
>
> > Clyde walked away and spoke into a man's ear.
>
> That sounds a bit odd.
Now that I read it again, I'm laughing at how bad it is. I was trying to
keep action/descriptions on the ghost side minimal. Uh ... maybe that
wasn't a good idea. I'll write a better a transition.
> > "What are they saying? Should I marry him?"
>
> Why should she care? Do we get to know that?
yep
> > Mr. Hendersen opened his eyes. "He hasn't been on the other side long. Maybe he can't come through yet."
>
> Ah. Got it.
okie-dokie
> > "I don't know. I can't choose who comes through."
>
> Oh, I had an awful experience with this stuff – almost made me believe
> it. A psychic lady of my acquaintance whose personal interests were
> best served by telling me to do one thing was telling me the other –
> and her eyes were – well, weird.
That sounds bad.
> > "I never trusted Clyde when he was alive. Why should I start now?"
>
> Heh. Mind you, she's a bit weak to make decisions on that basis.
One of those plots threads I squished.
> > "Sometimes I feel like he's around." She felt something cool brush against her arm. There was nothing near.
>
> Oo-er. Nice.
Thankee.
> > Stella started for the steps, but Thomas pulled her back outside and called the police with his cell phone.
>
> This is good stuff.
Are you eating while reading my story?
> "Will you two stop arguing? She's my sister, and she needs our help."
> Joan stroked Unatilla's mane. The unicorn nuzzled her.
>
> Allo. In comes the unicorn. So why unicorns in the afterlife? Eh? Eh?
Why not? Huh? Huh?
> > "Grandpa! That's her job. She keeps those on the other side believing in mythical creatures," Grandmama said.
>
> B*ll*cks! <g>. Get rid of this stuff when you edit it as
> non-challenge.
Lol. Okay. You convinced me.
<snipped nice comments>
> > George tossed a broom to him, "We need to sweep up those dried bootprints in back. I don't want no evidence linking me to the break-in.
>
> Jim and George? Who they?
The jeweler and his partner in crime. Too many names for such a short story.
> > "You got a good deal. Preston Jewelers said they're worthless."
>
> Hmmm. So he's in it too?
No. He's honest.
> > "That Thomas might be good for her. She never hears or sees me anymore."
>
> No erotic pot making, then? Ohhhh, my love….
Sorry. I save all that for the vampire stories.
> > She unzipped the pockets and discovered twenty-three small, velvet
> bags. After opening the drawstring of one bag, she found a matching
> set of sixteen teardrop emeralds. She opened another and found a
> variety of opals.
>
> Ah. Je comprends.
>
> "Yes. Now, come help me groom the unicorns. We'll be welcoming Mr.
> Hendersen tomorrow."
>
> Excellent story. Well planned and plotted, well presented. Oh – you
> weren't supposed to plot it. Ah, well. Never mind, eh? <g>
Are you plotting with me? Thanks, Alaric. I appreciate the feedback.
-Sue
Wind River
>
> Hi, Sue! I'm not trying to swell your head, but failed or not, this is the
> best darn thing I ever read from you. Period. I was in it from beginning
> to end, and the ghosts communicating from the other side is a nice concept.
> You're in fine form here. Got a few nits below:
Don't think you could swell my head if you wanted to, although it might
reach normal size. Thank you.
> > "It's wrong!"
>
> Nice opening, pulls me in.
Better than the first one I had. Lol, I had started with the quote,
"I've got a bad feeling about this." Lol, that would have killed it
before it got out of the starting gate.
> > "Marc, stop holding her back. Let her go." Clyde >walked away and spoke
> > into a man's ear.
>
> Who is this man? This is odd. I would assume they would all know who he
> was? What did he whisper? Why is that detail even relevant?
You're right. I cringe at it now, but when I wrote it, I thought it was
fine. It needs more of a transition. He's talking to the medium.
>
> > The ceiling fan's chain tinkled against the motor, and >the paddles
> > flickered shadows across his arms. Stella waited for >him to speak.
>
> Nice scene setting.
Thanks.
> > Mr. Hendersen opened his eyes. "He hasn't been on >the other side long.
> > Maybe he can't come through yet."
>
> Ah! This is where I became intrigued.
That's why she came to the meeting and is disappointed that he didn't speak.
> > "I never trusted Clyde when he was alive. Why should >I start now?"
>
> LOL!!!!
My favorite line.
> > "She's *my* wife."
> >
> > "Not anymore. You're dead."
>
> Heh. Good point. How do you respond to that one?
Really.
> > "Sometimes I feel like he's around." She felt something >cool brush
> > against her arm. There was nothing near.
>
> You could probably get rid of there was nothing there. In a story of ghosts
> and mediums, we'll get the hint, especially since you said something cool
> brushed against her arm. If you still want to keep it, why not give us a
> description of the room without explicitly coming out and saying there is
> nothing there? Like: She felt something cool against her skin, but when
> she looked, all she saw was__________________________________(description of
> the room)
Good point. Description? Is Patrick encouraging my obsession with
description? I promise not to get heavy-handed.
> > The rain pelted the last maple leaf from the tree. It fell >onto the wet,
> > matted leaves on the porch stairs.
>
> Probably a better word for on? Make your prose sparkle with verbs. Ex: It
> fell onto the wet, matted leaves that covered the porch stairs.
I'll find a better way. This was one of the areas that wasn't as smooth
as it could be.
> >Stella started for the steps, but Thomas
> > pulled her back outside and called the police with his >cell phone.
>
> There's a way to make this more showy and less telly. It's like you're in a
> hurry to get on with the rest of the story.
I was trying for that darned non-traditional by using dialog where
description worked better and description where dialog worked better.
You're right, it'd be better done the right way.
> > "Grandpa! That's her job. She keeps those on the >other side believing in
> > mythical creatures," Grandmama said.
>
> Hmmmm..........why does SHE get the job? Mythical creatures have been
> around for centuries. I woulda thought someone who is ancient would be
> looking after the unicorn, like Homer or something.
I had another plot thread with this I squished. I was thinking she died
as a child, and it was her wish. That didn't seem to fit this story
though, since it's not about her. If I rewrite this outside the
challenge, I'll take the unicorn stuff out.
> > Marc, the gems are fake," Clyde said.
>
> Beginning quote, miss.
Thank you, sir.
> > George fell against a display case. When he rubbed his >head, it felt
> > wet. He looked at his hand. It was smeared with >blood.
>
> I have to make an observation here, Sue. You're probably the best one I
> know(besides Hank) that is awesome at scenery and scene setting. It's the
> painter in you. But you're not so good at action description. The above
> reads clinical, mechanical. For example, smooth out the action, bring us
> into the story, make us believe that that is happening, I want to feel the
> guy's emotions. Here's an example: George fell against a display case and
> his head thunked against the glass. Excruciating pain. He felt his head,
> and when he brought his hand down, he saw that his fingers were flecked with
> blood. Shit, that hurt.
>
> Don't speed through the action, because, that is what draws us in, believe
> it or not.
>
> My thoughts only.
Good thoughts. It *would* hurt. :)
> > "Marc, have you been spying on her again?" Joan >asked while feeding an
> > apple to her unicorn.
>
> Nice detail.
thankee.
> > "Yes. Now, come help me groom the unicorns. We'll >be welcoming Mr.
> > Hendersen tomorrow."
>
> Heh. Nice ending.
>
> If you wanted to make this non-traditional, you could take the various
> scenes and just mix them up. That would achieve the purpose.
>
> Great entry, Sue, failed or not, it was one of your best.
Thank you, Patrick. You've been an Energizer Bunny around here this
week. How do find the time to crit so much? I know it's time consuming.
Really appreciate your feedback.
-Sue
eve
As requested, no lines by lines; I liked
how you revealed the dead (had no idea
that was coming) enjoyed their conversation
& the way you played off their sections against the
living, the unicorn dream is lovely, there are a couple
of sly touches I really liked (the last line of the
story, and the idea of ghosts, beings we have no proof
exist, tending to mythical creatures--very clever)
and the only drawback for was that I would've
liked more from Marc, and a bit less from the jewel plot
line (feels like the con men take over the storyline for
awhile, at the expense of more time with him).
eve
Dan Rogers
news:3F6863E1...@voyager.net...
Hi Sue.
> Sorry, MK, I can't seem to do plotless, unless I'm working on a
> character sketch. Tendrils twisting with plot opportunities squirm their
> way in, and when I try to squash them, they sit half-dead, waiting to be
> nourished back to life.
Wow! What a great sentence. And we're only in the preamble. %~)
> I'm posting anyway, just to force myself to keep
> writing/reviewing and to get a story on this ng, which seems too quiet
> at the moment. Also, Sooz wanted something to read.
>
> There's no need to give detailed line-by-line crits. I know it's not as
> smooth as it should be and is stilted in places, but I don't intend to
> do much more with it, unless for some odd reason everybody here thinks
> it's masterful, like a Wile Coyote trap for the roadrunner. :) I hope
> some will enjoy it.
>
> Thanks all.
Okay, I'll just try to give general comments which may have application to
your future writing. I haven't read anyone else's crits, so forgive me if
I'm repetitive.
> Failed Sept Challenge?
> By Wind River
>
> "It's wrong!"
>
> "You're just saying that, because she was your wife," Grandpa said.
>
> "I'm looking out for her."
>
> "She should marry him," Clyde said.
>
> "No, she shouldn't!"
>
> "Turn her loose, Marc," Grandmama said.
>
> "There's no way he can love her. It's too soon. He's only after her
> money."
>
> "She has no money," her sister, Joan, said.
>
> "Marc, stop holding her back. Let her go." Clyde walked away and spoke
> into a man's ear.
First observation: Confusion reigned here for me. We have unattributed
dialog from characters whom we haven't met yet. I have no sense of how many
characters are present or where we are.
> #
>
> Mr. Hendersen sat with his eyes closed. He was holding Stella's hand.
> The ceiling fan's chain tinkled against the motor, and the paddles
> flickered shadows across his arms.
Like that.
<snip>
> "Clyde says to marry Thomas?"
>
> "Yes."
>
> "Then I won't."
>
> "What? Why not?"
>
> "I never trusted Clyde when he was alive. Why should I start now?"
Good line.
> She handed the medium a donation and thanked him.
>
> #
>
> "Dammit Clyde! Why did you tell him that?" Marc said.
>
> "Because you guys were arguing and keeping Mr. Hendersen waiting."
>
> "She's *my* wife."
>
> "Not anymore. You're dead."
>
> "I'm not dead. I just don't have a body."
Que?
<snip>
> The rain pelted the last maple leaf from the tree. It fell onto the wet,
> matted leaves on the porch stairs. Stella stepped over it, but Thomas
> picked it up and put in her hair.
A wet moldering leaf? Yuck! (I like "pelted.")
> She kissed him, and they entered her house.
>
> When she flipped on the light, Stella let out a gasp and brought her
> hand to her mouth.
The language here seems a bit passive. Forgive: "...Stella gasped and her
hand flew to her mouth." Still common, I know, but perhaps more active?
<snip>
> "Grandpa! That's her job. She keeps those on the other side believing in
> mythical creatures," Grandmama said.
>
> "And what's your job? Pestering me? Lord knows you did enough of that
> when we were alive."
Ah, so in the afterlife one can still expect to be henpecked? Something to
look forward to. %~)
<snip>
> Thomas brought an inlaid box from his bedroom and opened it.
From his bedroom? What's he doing with them?
<snip>
> Stella glanced out the window. A pumpkin left over from Halloween
> grinned from beneath a hat of snow.
Nice.
> "Why did Marc have these in his
> office? How do I know they're not worth anything?"
Dialog attribution required?
> "Don't you trust me?"
Why should she? Is he a jeweler?
> "I want to."
>
> He shoved the box across to her. "Here! Have 'em appraised."
Don't like the "'em"s, unless your trying to set a character's unique voice.
Here, you have three characters using 'em.
<snip>
> George tossed a broom to him, "We need to sweep up those dried
> bootprints in back.
In back of where? Their store? Seems odd.
<snip>
> "Where'd you go for the appraisal?" Thomas asked.
>
> "George Watson's."
>
> "And you sold them for fifty?"
The "'em"s have now disappeared.
> "Yes."
>
> "You got a good deal. Preston Jewelers said they're worthless."
Not liking this Thomas guy too much. He had a lot of nerve taking it upon
himself to get them appraised, didn't he?
> #
>
> "George, them stones are fake!"
>
> "I know the gemologist. The one who sold to that dead man."
>
> "You trusted him? Didn't ya check 'em out?"
Bit of a stretch that George the jeweler couldn't tell they were fake
without engaging a gemologist. Not much of a jeweler, apparently.
<snip>
> George fell against a display case. When he rubbed his head, it felt
> wet. He looked at his hand. It was smeared with blood. As he was trying
> to calm his nausea, a dark car pulled up out front. A man and a woman,
> holding papers, got out and entered the store.
>
> Jim met the woman at the counter. "Hey, I tried to sell you some gems
> earlier. Did you change your mind?"
>
> "No. I'm Detective Pollack, and this is Detective Anderson."
So the two crooks are snookered? And how, pray tell, did the detectives
crack the case?
> #
>
> "Hey Marc! It looks like Thomas has forgiven Stella," Clyde said.
It seems to me the forgiveness is going the wrong way.
> "Why are you surprised?" Grandmamma asked.
>
> "Yeah, you whispered, 'Go see Mr. Hendersen,' in his ear every night,"
> Grandpa said.
I'd keep the dialog tags closer to the front of your sentences. It's
important to know who's speaking as soon as possible.
> "But I talked through the medium and convinced Thomas to forgive her,"
> Joan said.
>
> "He would've forgiven her anyway," Grandpa said.
>
> "You seem quiet, Marc. What are you thinking?" Clyde asked.
>
> "That Thomas might be good for her. She never hears or sees me anymore."
>
> "You're finally letting her live again?" Joan asked.
>
> Marc nodded. He kissed Stella and said, "May you live everyday of your
> life."
Oh oh! Next stop, Soap-opry Land. %~)
<snip>
> She unzipped the pockets and discovered twenty-three small, velvet bags.
Dubious comma. I'm a proponent lately of eliminating the comma between two
adjectives where it doesn't cause confusion. Subjective, I know.
<snip to end>
Well, I know this is a challenge story, Sue, and after reading MK's
requirements I don't think I could have done any better. Eleven characters
in 1,400 words is a lot. I didn't feel I got to know any of them very well.
As usual, you have some nice imagery.
Best,
Dan
Wind River
>
> Hi Sue.
Hi Dan.
> > Sorry, MK, I can't seem to do plotless, unless I'm working on a
> > character sketch. Tendrils twisting with plot opportunities squirm their
> > way in, and when I try to squash them, they sit half-dead, waiting to be
> > nourished back to life.
>
> Wow! What a great sentence. And we're only in the preamble. %~)
Lol. Maybe I should use it somewhere.
> > Thanks all.
>
> Okay, I'll just try to give general comments which may have application to
> your future writing. I haven't read anyone else's crits, so forgive me if
> I'm repetitive.
Sounds good.
> > "Marc, stop holding her back. Let her go." Clyde walked away and spoke
> > into a man's ear.
>
> First observation: Confusion reigned here for me. We have unattributed
> dialog from characters whom we haven't met yet. I have no sense of how many
> characters are present or where we are.
I agree. I was going for the non-traditional aspect, but that's not a
good excuse, I know.
> > #
> >
> > Mr. Hendersen sat with his eyes closed. He was holding Stella's hand.
> > The ceiling fan's chain tinkled against the motor, and the paddles
> > flickered shadows across his arms.
>
> Like that.
Thanks.
> > "I never trusted Clyde when he was alive. Why should I start now?"
>
> Good line.
That line's been in the back of my mind for some time. When I was
cleaning out, I decided to use it.
> > "I'm not dead. I just don't have a body."
>
> Que?
Quirky dead people.
> <snip>
>
> > The rain pelted the last maple leaf from the tree. It fell onto the wet,
> > matted leaves on the porch stairs. Stella stepped over it, but Thomas
> > picked it up and put in her hair.
>
> A wet moldering leaf? Yuck! (I like "pelted.")
Lol. Not the one in her hair, just the wet, mucky flattened ones that
haven't been swept away.
> > When she flipped on the light, Stella let out a gasp and brought her
> > hand to her mouth.
>
> The language here seems a bit passive. Forgive: "...Stella gasped and her
> hand flew to her mouth." Still common, I know, but perhaps more active?
Thanks. I go passive without even realizing it. Something I need to work on.
> <snip>
>
> > "Grandpa! That's her job. She keeps those on the other side believing in
> > mythical creatures," Grandmama said.
> >
> > "And what's your job? Pestering me? Lord knows you did enough of that
> > when we were alive."
>
> Ah, so in the afterlife one can still expect to be henpecked? Something to
> look forward to. %~)
Heh. Just wait until all the AFO people meet you over there.
> <snip>
>
> > Thomas brought an inlaid box from his bedroom and opened it.
>
> From his bedroom? What's he doing with them?
Squished plot thread.
> <snip>
>
> > Stella glanced out the window. A pumpkin left over from Halloween
> > grinned from beneath a hat of snow.
>
> Nice.
Thankee.
> > "Why did Marc have these in his
> > office? How do I know they're not worth anything?"
>
> Dialog attribution required?
wouldn't hurt.
> > "Don't you trust me?"
>
> Why should she? Is he a jeweler?
No, but someone she might marry. I see your point though. Could be misconstrued.
> > "I want to."
> >
> > He shoved the box across to her. "Here! Have 'em appraised."
>
> Don't like the "'em"s, unless your trying to set a character's unique voice.
> Here, you have three characters using 'em.
Yikes. I did confuse you. Two characters who talk in a similar way --
George the jeweler and Jim. This whole section needs tightening and shortening.
> <snip>
>
> > George tossed a broom to him, "We need to sweep up those dried
> > bootprints in back.
>
> In back of where? Their store? Seems odd.
Relates to the bootprints in her house, so we know they're the culprits.
> <snip>
>
> > "Where'd you go for the appraisal?" Thomas asked.
> >
> > "George Watson's."
> >
> > "And you sold them for fifty?"
>
> The "'em"s have now disappeared.
Different character talking.
> > "Yes."
> >
> > "You got a good deal. Preston Jewelers said they're worthless."
>
> Not liking this Thomas guy too much. He had a lot of nerve taking it upon
> himself to get them appraised, didn't he?
It would make more sense with the plot thread I took away. I was trying
to have less plot in a plot-driven situation. Not a good idea,
> > "George, them stones are fake!"
> >
> > "I know the gemologist. The one who sold to that dead man."
> >
> > "You trusted him? Didn't ya check 'em out?"
>
> Bit of a stretch that George the jeweler couldn't tell they were fake
> without engaging a gemologist. Not much of a jeweler, apparently.
He knows they're fake which we discover later on.
> So the two crooks are snookered? And how, pray tell, did the detectives
> crack the case?
The idiot guy tried to sell them to the detective, plus the bootprints
in the house. I know it would need more in a non-challenge story.
> > "Hey Marc! It looks like Thomas has forgiven Stella," Clyde said.
>
> It seems to me the forgiveness is going the wrong way.
Something to think about.
> > "Why are you surprised?" Grandmamma asked.
> >
> > "Yeah, you whispered, 'Go see Mr. Hendersen,' in his ear every night,"
> > Grandpa said.
>
> I'd keep the dialog tags closer to the front of your sentences. It's
> important to know who's speaking as soon as possible.
Gosh, I have them all at the end. Glad you noticed. I usually try to mix
them for variety. I prefer less tags, but with five-way conversations,
they become more necessary.
> > Marc nodded. He kissed Stella and said, "May you live everyday of your
> > life."
>
> Oh oh! Next stop, Soap-opry Land. %~)
That dang quote requirement. :(
> <snip>
>
> > She unzipped the pockets and discovered twenty-three small, velvet bags.
>
> Dubious comma. I'm a proponent lately of eliminating the comma between two
> adjectives where it doesn't cause confusion. Subjective, I know.
That's one I took out and put back in and took out and ...
> <snip to end>
>
> Well, I know this is a challenge story, Sue, and after reading MK's
> requirements I don't think I could have done any better. Eleven characters
> in 1,400 words is a lot. I didn't feel I got to know any of them very well.
Neither did I, and I created them.
> As usual, you have some nice imagery.
Thanks Dan. Don't know if I'll do anything else with this one, but if I
do, it will be written in a more tradional way. As always, I appreciate
your feedback, and the suggestions which I can use in rest of my writing.
-Sue
Wind River
Thank you, Eve. I agree with you about the jewel plot. I had another
version with that section only a few lines long. I think somewhere
inbetween the two would have worked best. In trying to create a
non-traditional story, I ended up with too many twists and threads for
such a short story. I think Marc and Stella both need to be explored
more. They're the main characters, but Uncle Clyde steals the show. I
appreciate the feedback. Some good thoughts.
-Sue