Hatrack River Writers Workshop: A burning desire

This is topic A burning desire in forum Fragments and Feedback for Short Works at Hatrack River Writers Workshop.

To visit this topic, use this URL:
http://www.hatrack.com/ubb/writers/ultimatebb.php?ubb=get_topic;f=11;t=003010

Posted by JustInProse (Member # 7872) on :

Anne, I'm sorry. You are right. If you need help on anything, send it over. I owe you. Just make sure it is in rtf format, or for some reason I can't read it.

[This message has been edited by JustInProse (edited April 02, 2008).]

Posted by Bent Tree (Member # 7777) on :

quote:
The pain on my chest, as I was reaching for the doorway, spread like butter on the hot toast that was my chest[cut]; the blood butter melted, coating my chest hair in a glowing red crust[Melted into a crust?]; what wonder I then did imagine when my grandfather removed the butterknife from my nipple and put it back over the small cherry flavored candle, which burned with a small hint of cinnimon[cinnamon] and released [smoke of a blue tint][Blue tinted smoke]; his back turned, so I quickly reached below my belt, inside my trousers, and scratched until his claw of a foot pulled it out, which hurt me like that brown rough leather covers a fresh new football, before it is ever used[[.]][Unless I missed a period somewhere, this is a twelve line Ultra Mega Run-on Sentence] Footballs are pretty cool, I thought, but I like butter knives better. Footballs can't really put bread on butter. I sure do love bread. It's good. Very Good.

I could see this going somewhere, but needs some mechanics worked out. You could argue that since this in the first person, it could be the way the character talks, but I wouldn't read too much if that were the case.

Posted by Wolfe_boy (Member # 5456) on :

Wow. Just.... wow. Not sure what to make of this.

It's stream of consciousness, I think, and it's very disconnected from itself. One "sentence" doesn't tie to the next, one image might have a relation to a previous sentence but the images themselves are confused and mismatched. I've reread it several times, over and over. I still don't grasp what's going on here. I don't have the attention required to get through more than a whole line without scanning further ahead. Between the strange imagery, the poor grammar in places, and the lack of a break for three quarters of the first thirteen lines, I can't handle this. Perhaps give it a shot as poetry, 'cause this isn't prose.

My advice? Try again.

Jayson Merryfield

Edited after Kathleen's response below: Yes, and I apologize for being harsh - I was trying to be more flippant, but yes, I also feel I put a little too much edge in it. I'm going to trim and edit my response some.

[This message has been edited by Wolfe_boy (edited April 02, 2008).]

Posted by Kathleen Dalton Woodbury (Member # 59) on :

JustInProse, Wolfe_boy's comments are a bit harsh (ahem! Wolfe_boy, remember what Thumper's father said?), but his reaction is what you will get from someone who is definitely not part of the audience for this excerpt.

I have to admit that I don't think I'm part of the audience for it either, and I agree that it may work as some kind of poetry, as Wolfe_boy suggested.

You do not have to accept or even pay attention to anything anyone says here about your 13 lines, but if you try to figure out why they have said what they've said, it may help you learn how to better connect with readers.

Posted by annepin (Member # 5952) on :

I think this is a bit too stream-of-consciousness for my taste. There's evocative imagery here, but I can't quite figure out what's going on. Without knowing the basics of who what when where, I can't appreciate the imagery or phrasing. I've described my thought process after each sentence so that you can get a sense of the effect of the words and decide if it's what you intend.

quote:

The pain on my chest, as I was reaching for the doorway, spread like butter on the hot toast that was my chestOkay, I got this sentence--butter=pain, toast=chest; the blood butter melted, coating my chest hair in a glowing red crust So now there actually is blood? Is there actually an open wound?; what wonder I then did imagine difficult to parse--I can rework it as "Then I did imagine what wonder..." but I'm not sure what htat means, either. Why is he imagining any wonder? What happened to the pain?when my grandfather removed the butterknife from my nipple and put it back over the small cherry flavored candle, which burned with a small hint of cinnimon and released smoke of a blue tintNot sure what to make of these details. Feels like a distraction, a complete aside, and hence I find it frustrating since I'm still trying to figure out how when where who; his back turned was turned?, so I quickly reached below my belt, inside my trousers, and scratched er... not sure I really want to know _what_ he's scratching, but why the heck is he scratching _that_ when his chest is all cut up? And the phrasing "his back turned so I..." implies there's a connection between the scratching and his grandfather's back being turned. I can't really figure out why, though, and hence I become more frustrated. Also, I thought he wanted to escape ("reaching for the doorway") but now he seems perfectly content to stay put. I can't understand what made him change his mind. until his claw of a foot pulled it out pulled what out? Do you want "it" to refer to "butter knife"? I think it's a bit too far for that. "It" wants to refer to "trousers", which hurt me like that brown rough leather covers a fresh new football What's hurting him? "It"? The knife? The smoke? The act of pulling it out? But why would that hurt him?, before it is ever used. Footballs are pretty cool, I thought, but I like butter knives better. Footballs can't really put bread on butter. I sure do love bread. It's good. Very Good.

Obviously, stuff is going to read differently for everybody. Part of the human condition, I suppose. Mine is just one person's opinion--there are some 6 billion other opinions out there. In other words, if it moves you, if you feel it, keep writing it. People will be moved.

[This message has been edited by annepin (edited April 02, 2008).]

Posted by Devnal (Member # 6724) on :

I agree with the up there's. I don't know whats going on. I think his grampa stabbed him in the nipple while they were playing football, and this guy likes toast.

If that's what is going on its pretty cool, but I'm not sure it is what's happening. If you clean it up it might be interesting, right now I can't follow it enough to want to keep reading.

Posted by Rhaythe (Member # 7857) on :

quote:
The pain on my chest, as I was reaching for the doorway, spread like butter on the hot toast that was my chest; the blood butter melted, coating my chest hair in a glowing red crust; what wonder I then did imagine when my grandfather removed the butterknife from my nipple and put it back over the small cherry flavored candle, which burned with a small hint of cinnimon and released smoke of a blue tint; his back turned, so I quickly reached below my belt, inside my trousers, and scratched until his claw of a foot pulled it out, which hurt me like that brown rough leather covers a fresh new football, before it is ever used. Footballs are pretty cool, I thought, but I like butter knives better. Footballs can't really put bread on butter. I sure do love bread. It's good. Very Good.

Huh?

Posted by skadder (Member # 6757) on :

Kathleen

What did Thumper's father say? 'There's carrots that-a-way' or 'Never trust a fox'?

Posted by Wolfe_boy (Member # 5456) on :

quote:
What did Thumper's father say?

Had to look it up myself.

If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.

Jayson Merryfield

Posted by JustInProse (Member # 7872) on :

I do sincerely apologize.

[This message has been edited by JustInProse (edited April 02, 2008).]

Posted by annepin (Member # 5952) on :

Hm... I have a decent sense of humor; here, I put a lot of time and effort into critiquing your piece to the best of my ability, trying to figure out what you wanted and what you were trying to say. Maybe I'm being too sensitive, but I don't appreciate your taking my efforts so lightly.

Posted by Kathleen Dalton Woodbury (Member # 59) on :

Good job, Wolfe_Boy, though now that we notice the date of JustInProse's 13 lines, we see that maybe you were the only one who "got it" and your post is your way of being in on the "joke."

As for Thumper's father, it may seem that not saying anything if you can't say something nice in a critique sort of defeats the purpose, but all I really intended to indicate by invoking Thumper's father is that feedback should not be all harshness with nothing positive included somewhere.

I would also like to say that I agree with annepin. If you are going to play an April Fools joke, please find another way to do it, okay?

I have decided that I probably have a rather strange sense of humor, because Survivor could make me laugh out loud when he was around here, while others took offense. However, I tend to think a lot of the April Fools jokes I encounter are NOT funny.

But humor is extremely subjective, and I am rambling.

Posted by JustInProse (Member # 7872) on :

Yeah, I guess it just became one of those days for me. The kind of days that every author flashes back to, trying to dig deep into their characters reality. The kind of moments that change who someone is forever.

Last April Fool's I'll have.

Posted by annepin (Member # 5952) on :

It's all good. I'm pretty quick to forgive, too.

[This message has been edited by annepin (edited April 03, 2008).]