Tell me what you think...

[The Afoci]

As some of you may know, I like to do some creative writing. This is a story I wrote about 2 or 3 years ago I found and consider it one of my best.

And this isn't a cry for help or anything like that either, just so you know.

Please be honest and tell me what you think.

One Chair in the Dark...

It is but one chair. One chair in the dark. But not completely dark, there is a light on it, a small stream of light. This chair is in a rather bleak room. One shelf with only a few pictures on it. A small CD player is on the floor near the chair, there are many CD's scattered around it. No music comes from it though. Dark curtains cover the window and leave the room feel even abandoned. But there is a small stream of light, the light comes from the door being slightly cracked open. It shines into the room, on to the chair. It is a wooden chair. Painted white, but the paint is falling off to reveal the wood beneath. It is a white chair in the dark.

The wind blows and the curtains stand up straight away from the window, away from the floor, fearing the window they once covered. The door opens more to reveal a boy or man on the chair. It is tough to tell. He is curled into a fetal position, tears on his face. He wears a plain white T-shirt and blue jeans that are worn and look very old. His hair is short, yet it shoots out in all directions. He rubs his hands through it and wipes his tears, but they appear again as soon as he wipes them away. He has two piercings in his left ear, his upper part and in the middle. The top one is a ball, the middle is a loop, it is closely fastened to his ear. The boy stands and takes his shirt off. He is skinny, his bones show through his weakened flesh. His body is beaten, bruised, bloody. He has a Chinese symbol tattooed on his abdomen and when he turns around, it reveals a larger phrase across his back in Chinese symbols as well. His hands rub from his shoulder to his stomach. He looks down and sees his pain in his hand, red, sticky, scabby substances he wipes from his chest. He sits back down and runs his fingers through his hair. He speaks...

Where are you? Where the fuck are you now? You said you would be there. Always, pray for me and I shall comfort you. Where the fuck is my comfort? Where the fuck is my reward for believing you...Trusting you?

Tears run from his eyes more as he looks to the sky screaming. Anger seems to possess him as he screams towards the sky. Suddenly a picture on the shelf catches his attention. He stops. He grabs the picture. The picture is old looking, crinkled, bent, it is of a boy, about his age, perhaps 18, maybe older, perhaps younger. The boy in the picture has blonde hair and freckles...a devious smile. He holds the picture near his chest and sits in the chair. He leans back in it crying hard than anytime prior. He speaks...

Why did he let you leave me here? Why didn't he protect you? Why were you killed and not me? Why does he punish me? Why aren't you here with me? When I need someone...something I have nothing? No god, no friends, no love...

He leans forward and blindly reaches his hand towards the shelf as he had done it so many times before and set the picture there. He grabs the other picture. It is a much newer looking picture. By the way he looks at it, you can tell it is of the one he loves. She has dark hair, dark skin, and the most beautiful smile ever. She has her arm around him in the picture. Suddenly his face turns to anger and pain filled with a look of rage. He speaks...

Why did I hurt you? I loved...love you so much. Yet I did nothing but hurt you. I tried to love you, but I am incapable of loving unselfishly. And you fell in love with another, again leaving me alone. You were all I had after he took my friend from me. I had nothing else and then he took you as well.

Tears again fill his eyes. He puts the picture away and he stands up. Lightning and thunder fill the room. Gusts of wind fill the room lifting the curtains to caress the boys face as rain water removes some of the blood from his beaten, bruised, bloody body. A smile crosses the boys bloody face. He speaks...

You won't hurt me again. I won't let you. You won't have the chance to hurt me again. [he falls to his knees and screams] You can't hurt me again. I won't let you. [Wind lifts curtains and a flash of lightning lights the room revealing a rope attached to the ceiling] Leave me alone, stay out of here, I won't let you hurt me.

He slams the window shut. Stands on the chair and slides the rope over his head to his neck. A smile covers his face. He stands proud on the chair. No more tears, no more pain. Lightning flashes and reveals the whole room, news clippings of his friends murder are scattered on the wall along with love letters from his love who no longer loves him. There are many pictures of a happy child, of this child with his deceased friend, with his love. As the rain beats against the window, struggling to get in, a loud thunderous noise fills the room as the chair slides over. It hits the floor once and takes one bounce to help its former friend, but it cannot help him. Bare feet kick at the floor, reach for it, stretch for it. Horrible noises of the boy gasping for air, reaching for his throat, when suddenly it all stops with a great flash of lightning to show the boys eyes open, smile on his face. As the light dims, his eyes close and his smile fads.

It is but one chair. One chair in the dark. But not completely dark, there is a light on it, a small stream of light. This chair is in a rather bleak room. One shelf with only a few pictures on it. A small CD player is on the floor near the chair, there are many CD's scattered around it. No music comes from it though. Dark curtains cover the window and leave the room feel even abandoned. But there is a small stream of light, the light comes from the door being slightly cracked open. It shines into the room, on to the chair. It is a wooden chair. Painted white, but the paint is falling off to reveal the wood beneath. It is a white chair in the dark.

[The Afoci]

Anybody????

[Marmel]

I read it. I had no idea how to respond.

Plus, they were no crawfish. Sorry, you wrote yourself into a one-theme career.

[Marmel]

dola.....

I guess I could try to respond. It was creative, that's for sure. I really don't know what you where trying to tell the reader, though I have never been any good with reading between the lines like that. The descriptiveness of the passage was excellent. I could still see the images in my head as you described them.

But again, I am not sure what you were trying to tell the reader. It wasn't bad, it wasn't boring either. But it was not 'rememberable' (is that a word?) either.

[Franklinnoble]

What does it all mean, Basil?

[The Afoci]

Originally posted by Marmel
I read it. I had no idea how to respond.

Plus, they were no crawfish. Sorry, you wrote yourself into a one-theme career.

check, change boy to crawfish...

and thanks, i reread it myself and felt to that it was too short probably. It reads more as the last moments of something larger. I also wrote it for speech and they were suppose to be 3-5 minutes, but it should be more focused on why or what is going on.


Thanks.

[Calis]

Yeah, I think mostly you've shocked people because of your normal style, it's a bit of a change.

Overall though, I'd say excellent writing style. It is very detailed, and does present a very vivid picture. It seems a bit too "goth" for lack of a better term for my tastes, not a knock on it at all, just a personal preference.

Anywho, helluva lot better than anything I can write.



Edit: Had to remove a smiley, I have a one per post limit. Also after thinking about it, I think my Goth statement was a bit off. I guess angst-filled would be a better term, but after re-reading it I wouldn't even say that was the case. There's SOMETHING about it though, I just can't put my finger on it.

[Marmel]

Originally posted by The Afoci
check, change boy to crawfish...

and thanks, i reread it myself and felt to that it was too short probably. It reads more as the last moments of something larger. I also wrote it for speech and they were suppose to be 3-5 minutes, but it should be more focused on why or what is going on.


Thanks.

Even better, it reads as the first moments of something larger.

Feel free to post more stuff of yours.

[mrsimperless]

I'm scared to even touch this. I must say that it held my interest through to the end. All except that last paragraph. You might want to check just to make sure, but I think that last paragraph might be similar to one of the earlier ones.

[revrew]

Interesting exploration of the question of God in the face of evil. "Where is he?" your character asks. Of course, with no answer to that question, he's left with no hope. No hope, why live? I think it's an excellent job of getting one's toes wet in the philosophy of the thing. It doesn't provide any real answers, but it does ask some questions. It doesn't teach a lesson, but it begs for someone to springboard into teaching one.

Now, as an editor, let me suggest a few things you might find helpful in your writing. In the first paragraph, you were going for a quick, stuttered scene. It almost works. But you chickened out. Too many qualifyers. For example, you throw in these extra words to soften every one of your points - "but, rather (that word, by the way, NEVER belongs in writing), rather (again), only a few, though, even, but" - quit softening the blow! Just say it! If it's cracked, say it's cracked. Not cracked "slightly". After a while, everything is softly, quietly, almost, slightly, just about...yawn. Is that really what you're going for here? I don't think so. I think you were shooting for edgy. Then no more softness. Make it edgy.

Also, 10 of your first twelve sentences are in passive voice. Too many passive sentences (is, became, was, are, grew, began) and the reader asks, "Why do I care about this again? Nothing's happening."

I think tightening and eliminating as many of these extra words and creating a more active scene would carry the reader a little better, make the questions you raise more distinct in the reader's mind.

Nice work.

[Marmel]

OK, now that I thought a bit more about it, I would like to add that I thought the repeating paragraph at the end would have a slight change in it from the first time it was written. I was wrong. I guess I was looking for something there that led to an answer of some sort. That is why I felt that it could be the beginning of something larger.

I liked revrew's review as well. He definitly knows how to critique writing, whereas I don't know crap.

[The Afoci]

Thanks revrew. That is always my biggest problem when i write is the lack of any editing at all really. I usually check for spelling errors, but let the main content stay. I usually write stuff that just flows for me and i don't like to change it. This story took me about a half hour from when I began typing to when I was done typing and editing spelling and I then saved it and let it be. I should look more into "tighening" things up.

Marmel, that is a good point, it may not be a bad idea for me to try and expand on this into a larger piece with this being the intro. Hmmm. I may have to work on that.

Calis, I wrote this at a time in my life where my girlfriend of 3 years broke up with me and my bestfriend since I was 3 was murdered. It has dark angst-filled themes because of my emotions at the time. But yeah, I hate scary movies and have troubles appreciating them like others do because I don't like the style.

mrsimperless, keep looking you might figure it out, you seem like a sharp kid.

[scooper]

I'll go along with revrew as well. There many different levels to good writing. I am good at taking an existing idea and making it read well. I had to fight back the urge to rewrite your piece and send it back to you. However, I am terrible in the creative department. I just can't come up with the ideas. You have a good one here complete with an articulate description but it needs some revision. There's nothing wrong with that.

My guess is that this is the first draft or a very early one at the least. I suggest you read it to yourself outloud. After that, re-read it slowly while trying to make some changes to the language. Writing requires you to be brutally honest with yourself. If after a first draft, you can't find ways to improve it, chances are you are not tough enough on yourself.

Writing also requires taking some risks, especially when it's fiction. You've done that here. I suggest you take some of rev's critiques, then find some of your own. Re-write it then re-post it. You'll probably be amazed at the outcome of just one edit.

Overall, very good start, though. Definately a powerful story.

[Airhog]

Dont just change it too a crawfish, but a crawfish looking for lazer beams

[Blade6119]

laser*....stupid redneck

[The Afoci]

scooper, thats exactly right. with all my writing I never have done revision, not because I consider it perfect or even good, but because I generally lose the "flow" which brought the original story and don't want to lose the feelings I had when I originally wrote it.

But I think I will revise and re-post. Thanks.

Airhog, laser blasters are a splendid idea that was accidently left out.

[QuikSand]

With the overall tone being so dark and quiet, I think the early (and late) mention of CDs is the wrong image. Too technological, shiny, laser-beamish. I think you'd be better served with a simple radio, or some other symbolic item that's more in keeping with the dark motif.