Another 13 for y'all. This time I'm also looking for readers as well as the usual feedback on these 13 lines. [I'm counting on you, Survivor, to rip this to shreds proper. I would expect nothing less.]
7000 words, again contemporary fiction with a slight fantasy element in the fairy tale sense. First draft. In fact, I just finished it an hour ago after starting it late last night. So, it's a bit rough and needs polish. But not so much that it isn't readable.
Bah. Enough banter.
***
I tell you, kid: I was loser. I suppose that’s not exactly fair. The truth is that I was the biggest loser who ever lived a day. So when the Djinn that had appeared from my father’s antique pocket watch said that I could have any three wishes granted, well... I don’t need to tell you that some things were going to change. I’m sorry, young man; I’m rushing ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning.
They used to call me Deficient Dan -- that's because I failed miserably at everything I had ever tried to do. Naturally, I dropped out of school the day I turned sixteen because the only classes I had ever passed were study halls and gym, and I got a D-minus in both of them. It didn’t matter, though, because a delinquent like me had little use for an education anyway.
One thing that's a pet peeve of mine, is establishing an identity for the reader. I like characters that address me, but I dislike it when they make decisions for me. Things like, "Please, have some more wine," make me absolutely loopy because I can't have any much less more. All of which is to say, that unless there's a really solid reason your narrator is talking to a young man, I'd rather you cut that bit.
posted
Currently working on the second draft and I hope to have it done before too long. Unfortunately, I've neglected the lawn and garden and I must take care of it before the bindweed swallows up the cats.
Much appreciative of the feedback so far... First draft is still available for those who'd like to see it.
posted
First or second draft, your choice, but it will take me a few days to get to it. That way I can finish the ones I have already started as well as the various and sundry chores which sit before me, tongues lolling with mocking laughter as they edge closer and closer, successfully blocking off any hope of escape. Truly there is a reason that "work" is a four letter word!!
posted
MR is right, even when you adopt the conceit that the narrator is speaking to a physically present person (or persons), it is usual to phrase things so that you're not kicking better than half your potential readers out of the audiance.
The exception (which isn't, as it turns out) is when you frame the story such that the reader (and/or the intermediary narrator/journalist character) is a...how shall we put it? Spying little busybody who has got hold of some correspondence that was private, dammit!
You may go either way on that. I like three-wishes stories, myself. So I wouldn't object to reading this one.
posted
I fear I've made a terrible error in judgment. I thought it would be clear to the audience that I'm speaking to the kid, who appears later in my story. You, the reader, are eavesdropping on my conversation with him until the very end.
The only way I can fix this is to use quotes around the first paragraph and add a little to set up a scene. Certainly do-able, I suppose.
posted
Mary, Survivor, Keeley (and anyone else who cares to comment):
Based on your feedback, how would you feel about the story if it started something similar as follows -- I'm just making it up quickly for an example:
The kid sitting next to me on the bench -- I think his name was Rotherham, but it's so hard to keep track of all the new faces these days -- was wide-eyed and ready to hear my tale. Barely twenty years old and looking even younger, he had heard the rumors. Those were likely exaggerated and embellished, but now he would get it from straight from me. I spun my yarn the same way I had done so many times before.
"I tell you, kid: I was loser. I suppose that’s not exactly fair. The truth is that I was the biggest loser who ever lived a day. So when the Djinn that had appeared from my father’s antique pocket watch said that I could have any three wishes granted, well... I don’t need to tell you that some things were going to change. I’m sorry, young man; I’m rushing ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning."
They called me Mr. Glass. Ha! I couldn't resist that one -- HSO
Printer-friendly view of this topic
