posted
“This is the last time.” Those words hung in the stagnant air of Roland’s small apartment. I’ve said that before, he thought. When will this nightmare stop? Why do I keep falling into this trap? I’m sure Mary knows by now. I’m going to lose her, too, just like I lost the rest. I thought I cared about her enough to stop. She was different from the others. I feel like dirt. The grip on the needle in his hand loosened, as his head hung low. There he sat, wallowing in the same self-loathing that kept visiting him and would never leave. He was getting better. He used to shoot up every day; now it was contained to once every other week. But it didn’t matter. Society viewed him with the same disdain they had before, and he didn’t blame society at all.
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So let me know what you think, please. I only have a couple chapters in written in a rough draft, and I'm unsatisfied with both at the moment. Mostly I'd like to know what you think about the writing style.
posted
For the opener it's not very inviting. So much analytical self loathing all bundled into your first thirteen. Is the story solely about his fight with drugs? Also, the spoken words at the beginning throw me off because I'm trying to figure out who he talking to for a while before it becomes clear he's alone.
The writing style doesn't quite ring true to me unfortunately. I just can't seem to picture a junkie on the verge of shooting up and concerned with whether one last person will stick by him having such big picture thoughts like society's opinion of him.
Is there anything else about the story that should be included or at least hinted at in your first thirteen? If you feel like all the information is there then maybe just rework it to draw the reader in better rather than hit them with such a sad scene.
posted
My credentials--psychiatric nurse, specialist in addictions (mostly heroin users).
1) Addicts don't move from daily use (dependent use) to every other week without some sort of intervention--a detox or substitute prescribing like methadone. They may detox themselves--go cold turkey--but if they are currently using every other week then they are, in actuality, in the process of relapsing. So they are moving in the direction towards daily use again and not, as you suggest, away from it. A gradual reduction--as you may achieve with a prescribed drug like methadone--is impossible with street drugs, as the purity alters from day to day, and so the amount you take will go up and down.
2) Your protaganist may not be aware of the above--they may be in a state of denial regarding their relapse, but that would evident in their thoughts, to some degreee, and it isn't in yours.
3) The above represents the reality of the situation, but you may wish to alter that reality for fiction's sake...
4) When you take heroin (I presume its heroin), it is a pain killer (diamorphine) and kills both physical and emotional pain...so self-loathing tends to dissapear for a while. Also you fail describe the 'hit' that someone injecting drugs into thier vein would feel (at least to some degree)--so I feel removed from the process and not involved.
I don't like the direct thoughts (first person, present) as you have done them; they feel artificial.
You can achieve a better effect (IMO) with 3rd person past direct thoughts--its less jarring. e.g.
“This is the last time.” His own words mocked him as they hung in the stagnant air of Roland’s small apartment. He slid the needle into the bulging and scarred vein and pressed the plunger. He'd spoken the same words a thousand times before, but they'd never stopped him in the past. Why did he keep falling into the same trap each time, like some idiot...? Then he felt it; tendrils of warmth sliding through his mind like filaments of sunshine, driving away...
[This message has been edited by skadder (edited May 23, 2009).]
posted
I would agree with Skadder, I don't believe this is an accurate view of someone in the process of giving into their cravings. Normally consequence comes into play after the fix has worn off. If addicts could understand the consequences before every hit, they probably wouldn’t do it. Addiction focuses your mind on the now, all future consequences goes out of the window. In the mist of a strong craving the character would not be thinking in terms of the addiction giving him the nightmare. Instead he would be thinking this drug is helping him escape from it. This is the nature of all addiction, it works back to front it causes the very thing you think it is reliving.
I do like your sentence regarding this is the last time. You could play on this and it’s amazing the incredible excuses addicts come up. Standard ones are “life is just too tough right now” “ I could be hit by a bus” “ My only pleasure and way to survive” . If you do some Google searches you will find better ones.
Also being addicted is in many ways like being a slave, hating yourself but unable to stop. I don’t think there is anything wrong with what you have written but I think that you need to move it to another section of the story. Also these thoughts normally accompany an attempt to stop. Most of the time addicts are fooling themselves they are in control or will give up when it starts destroying their health or when a certain time period has past.
Addicts know that their addiction is killing them but they rarely think of the consequences, they are in a constant state of denial. You may also want to research some of the latest theories of addiction in terms of how they effect the brain, there are about two or three schools of thought.
posted
This is the last time.” Those words hung in the stagnant air of Roland’s small apartment. I’ve said that before, he thought. When will this nightmare stop? Why do I keep falling into this trap? I’m sure Mary knows by now. I’m going to lose her, too, just like I lost the rest. I thought I cared about her enough to stop. She was different from the others. I feel like dirt.I thought this internal dialogue when on a bit too long to feel natural. I got the picture pretty quickly. The grip on the needle in his hand loosened, as his head hung low. There he sat, wallowing in the same self-loathing that kept visiting him and would never leave You've already shown us he's wallowing in self pity. I'm ready to move on.. He was getting better. He used to shoot up every day; now it was contained to once every other week. But it didn’t matter. Society viewed him with the same disdain they had before, and he didn’t blame society at all This feels pretty removed and preachy to me. Where is the story?.
This description seems static to me--I don't see much promise of a story at this point. I would suggest cutting back on some of the narrative/ editorial comments and have your character involved in something other than just shooting up. Or have him a bit more dynamic in his thoughts. You have a lot of internal dialogue, none of which is particularly compelling or fresh enough for me to want to read on.
posted
Hey, thanks for the critiques. I haven't had a chance to edit my story, but I appreciate the help. I like most of the suggestions and I plan on applying them when I can.
Posts: 3 | Registered: May 2009
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posted
I would like to get a little more setting, instead of dialogue and thoughts floating around in the generic "apartment". The phrase "The grip on the needle in his hand loosened, as his head hung low" was a welcome change.
[This message has been edited by MrsBrown (edited June 23, 2009).]
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