The bowl-shaped valley flanked by the mountains of the Salt River Range lay in slumber beneath a milky full moon. Lights of small farmhouses and barns twinkled like fallen stars among the night-washed fields. All was quiet, except for a few coyotes taken by a sudden obsession to howl. Their voices wafted over the pastures and up the hillsides like a poignant, homeless wind looking for company then disappeared somewhere out of hearing and out of mind. An owl, cocked and ready on its pine-hidden perch, blinked sharp amber eyes, ready to kill, to find its life by taking another. A skunk padded beneath its perch, unaware and unconcerned as skunks are apt to be, with anything but themselves.
Michael Johns awakened suddenly in the middle of the night and sat bolt upright. From clear over in the house, both he and his father heard the cow bawling out in the barn. He checked the time on the big, wind-up clock at his bedside. Three a.m.
“Go to her, son,” Robert Johns called weakly from his bed.
Michael already had his boots on. “Go back to sleep, Dad. I'm on my way.”
"Michael Johns awoke suddenly" Better than , "Michael Johns awakened suddenly"
But thats just nit picking. Overall the voice is good and again I love your imagery, you have a real talent for "showing" not "telling" as they say. Just dont overdo it before we care. I probably have the same problems though so who am I to talk.
[This message has been edited by in_defiance22 (edited January 30, 2005).]
The second paragraph needs some tidying up. The first sentence is too descriptive. "Middle of the night" can go, since he is going to look at his clock and see the time. "Bolt" can go, IMO; it's one of those things I was talking about; the storyteller uses words like this where the writer generally doesn't. The second sentence could simply read "He could hear the cow bawling in the barn." The expression "clear over in the house" is another colloquiallism from a storyteller that seems out of place here. I'm not entirely sure what the POV is here, but if it is intended to be Michael's, then you should probably drop "both he and his father..."; he and the reader will learn that his father has heard when his father addresses him.
I hope all this doesn't come across as hyper-critical; I really enjoy the imagery, and the scene speaks to me with what I think is its realistic portrayal of farm life. I'd offer to read the rest, but I'm swamped right now.
Send it along and I'll give it a good look. (Just reply to the obnoxious anti-spam message this one time and it should leave you be in future.)
But really, it's just the first line throwing me. I kept getting an image of a salty river flowing through this valley, making it almost totally useless for farming. It was just the only image I could really latch onto here, and I'm almost certain it isn't what you meant.
quote:This is pretty descent description, but it seems superflous. If you're trying to set tone, it didn't work for me. Like it's out of place.
An owl, cocked and ready on its pine-hidden perch, blinked sharp amber eyes, ready to kill, to find its life by taking another. A skunk padded beneath its perch, unaware and unconcerned as skunks are apt to be, with anything but themselves.
I'll read the whole thing, if you want me to. theokaluza@gmail.com is the address if you want to ask.
[This message has been edited by theokaluza (edited January 31, 2005).]
[This message has been edited by Rocklover (edited January 31, 2005).]
quote:
I don't want him to come off as a wuss, which is how it comes across now.
Some insight on men... opinions will vary.
Privately, some men may indeed be wusses. Outwardly, and especially around other people, most likely men, they'll try very hard to hide it. Or, in some cases, embrace it fully and accept the fact that they aren't as manly as they'd like to be. But that's sort of rare... I've seen guys like this--they weren't gay, either--but they just accepted that they were "sensitive."
However, because I read your story and know what's coming, I think the solution is to show the internal conflict Michael feels. Puttin' on the brave face and feeling quite the opposite inside... even if we are alone. That's how some of us deal with things. Other guys hit something with their fists. People. Walls. The dog. Whatever.
My older brother, on the other hand, is a true classic bawler when he's upset -- some guys would say "girly". He always has been. He can't control it, though he would like to be able to do so-- it's part rage, part sadness, part guilt, part a bunch of things, and the tears come a-rushing. He acts the tough guy role, but he's really a softy. He bottles everything up and then he explodes and it isn't pretty. He's ultra-sensitive, reads into everything everyone says, wants to be everyone's friend, wants everyone to like him, etc. When anyone one of these things doesn't work out, he gets hurt. Takes it badly. Very badly. He lashes out at whoever is closest. Doesn't matter who (it used to be me when we were kids), he just goes for it. He can't ever admit he was wrong -- if he was at fault -- and he'll never apologize first. Resolution usually comes a few years later when the guilt eats up so much and he just wants to stop hurting inside. But he still won't apologize. He'll just say something funny and hope that works.
Conflicted. That's men. No different than women, except men usually don't talk about their worries with other guys. Doing so is a sign of weakness. Showing weakness lowers your status in the pack, just like wolves. Weakness is bad. Never show it. Kill or be killed. Fight to protect whatever you think is yours. Most guys want to be the alpha male in their pack... whatever pack they belong to. Some guys don't care. It's a mix... you never know.
But we do feel weak at times. And, as I said, there are men who aren't afraid to admit their faults and weaknesses. Sometimes it's self-deprication -- little jokes not to be taken seriously, whatever. But when confronted about it, pure denial. We'll let our confidants in -- a wife, maybe a parent... but we'll never truly admit that we feel weak. We'll just say something about having a bad day or week. Then we pull up our bootstraps and get back to work, focusing on one thing so we don't have to think about what's bothering us.
In your story, Michael is going to deal with his grief in his own way, of course, but he's probably not going to have a chat with his Pop. These things may indeed be said in head... but he'll push them back and they'll coming rushing in anyway. He'll feel guilt about not saying everything he had wanted to say. He'll probably give in and cry, too, but he'll fight it until he can't fight it. Crying is a necessary release for all of us. It's better than violence.
Play up the internal conflict he feels. He feels relieved and sad at the same time. Skip the chat. That's my advice.
[This message has been edited by HSO (edited February 01, 2005).]
Survivor: Is that how it really works? They never say it? What if such a man and his father got to the point in their lives where they HAD to express their love for each other. How would they do it? What would they say?
That said, some men do express love for their fathers, and vice versa. Most do it by "being manly". If a man is a man, it is assumed that he loves his father/sons. If not, well....
There are other kinds of love that can exist between two males that happen to have a parent/child relationship, and these can be expressed in different ways. But the peculiar father-son thing is almost entirely communicated through a father providing an example of manhood, and the son following that example.
Judith, we're all still part of the natural order of things, whether by divine design or not. So, while we have arguable intelligence and can ponder the mysteries of life, the universe and everything, we are still bound by most of the same rules that all living things on this planet are bound to. There's no great mystery here.
It's easy to think that being human is somehow special, and maybe it is (I think our view is biased -- cats think they are special, too... my wife's four cats makes me certain of this fact), but with the possible exception of having a soul, we are still mammals -- animals on a little planet with lots of water and living stuff that we can see and some stuff we can't see. Yet, we follow the basic tenet of all life: Survive and reproduce.
Besides all of what I just said, if you really want to know what a man thinks about, then it is only this: We know that women have all the power. They always have. We just pretend women don't and we do stupid stuff because of it.
*If the above wasn't silly enough, the really silly bit follows*
One does wonder what human civilization would have been like if a woman sometime in our far distant past hadn't said to her mate: "You know, this is all well and good, but it's cold and wet, and frankly I'm not happy about it. If you want me to have your babies, well mister, you had better find something to keep us warm and dry."
So, off Man went to find a cave and he did. And things were happy for a time. But the cave was often damp and there was no door to keep out the cold, bugs and hungry lions. Woman, increasingly unhappy about the situation, said: "Can't you do something about this? Is this the best you can do?"
So once again, Man found himself in a quandry. He thought about this for a while and was stuck. "How do I put a door on the cave?" Perhaps the other Men in the area were having similar difficulties? So he got them together formed a group to solve the problem. This group got together on "Poker Night."
"Look," said Man to the other Men, "What can we do? We need a better plan. Woman just stands there with her hands on her hips and gives me that look. I can't take it anymore."
A timid man at the far end of the slab of rock that was their Poker Table raised his hand. He said, "I have this idea..."
The idea, of course, was to build a house. Not just one house, but several close to each other. Not only would this house keep them warm and dry, making Woman happy, but it would also let both Men and Women get together more frequently.
What the timid man didn't say, though, was that most of the idea actually came from his woman. But, he ran with the idea anyway, improved on it and said: "What I need is a hammer and some nails and some duct tape. With these things, I can build and fix anything!"
And so it came to pass that hamlets, villages, towns and cities were built. Houses improved steadily and men even had one idea all to themselves: Stadiums or Sports Arenas. Women, too, got together and thought up of new things they wanted: Plumbing and Baths; Mattresses; Shiny Things to wear around their necks, wrists, and on their fingers; Clothing that didn't smell of dead animal; Paper and Ink to keep in touch with relatives from the next hamlet over.
But Man wasn't happy with all of this. He longed for old ways, the simple life, as it were. So, he invented "Camping." The first few Camping Trips were glorious, since he did this on his own. But he was so proud of his invention that he dragged Woman along with him. She tolerated it because she could spend some time away from the hustle and bustle of village life alone with her Man, look up at the stars and dream about their children's future. Of course, there have always been some Women who actually did like Camping as much as Men, but they were rare creatures indeed.
But the trouble with Camping is that they had to bring stuff along with them, and it was a laborious task carrying food and tents up into the hills. Woman said to Man, "This is your idea, this Camping thing, so make it easier to get this crud up the dang hill! How do you expect me to carry all of this while I'm also carrying your child in my arms?"
So, Men got together once again and invented the "Chevy Corvette Stingray". Granted, there wasn't much space to store stuff, but it looked cool--definitely sounded cool. As a side project, Man also made the "Ford 150 Four-wheel drive Truck" for the Camping trips. There were many other variations on this.
Still, something was missing. Woman, accustomed to staying in contact with friends and family at home, longed for communication with them while she was away. Man, it seemed, was only interested in Truck and Vette. And Woman was Jealous of these metallic harlots. So, Woman said to Man, "Mobile Phone" and Man complied with her request. Woman was happy. Man was happy. All's well that ends well.
This is the true story of humankind and civilization. So sayeth HSO.
[This message has been edited by HSO (edited February 02, 2005).]
I liked the story btw.
and knowing is half the battle...GO JOE!