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Britva
Moderator   Posts: 37 Registered: 1/8/2003 Status: Offline
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posted on 4/4/2004 at 11:01 AM |
An untitled story by: Worthlessliar
As the drowsy light stagers ever so slowly over my shoulders, I turn to see
its source. The sky is blushing, and the sun is preparing to rest. The
gorgeous scene laid out before me causes my arm to pull my girl closer to
me. And as Ra begins to hide, a cold wind takes its place.
I hug Aless to ward off the breeze, but my sheepskin duster is no match for
sea winds. With my arms tucked under hers, my lips find their way to that
secret spot behind her ear, and both our eyes shut in contentment. Minutes,
seconds, or hours pass before my eyes see the fading light again, but in
their gaze lays a star, behind my Aless, on the other side of Ocean Drive.
Finally, I implore, a time for my long decided plan has arisen, but my
increasing glee must be controlled. I hold Aless’s face between my hands
now, and the first of my rehearsed statements follows. “Sweetheart, please
trust me. Follow my lead and act in ignorance. You’ll understand soon
enough.”
I take her hand and pull her through the rising traffic that separates the
club life from the ocean life on South Beach. Darting between cars, I grow
fearful the star might escape my eye, which she does for many sporadic
seconds behind truck cabs and billboards on wheels. But we’ve arrived by
the Avalon Hotel, with all its Art Deco glory failing to overpower that
glory of Avril Levigne.
Aless sees the object of my vigor and not an inch of jealousy reaches her
eye- only understanding. Avril is fading away no more than twenty paces in
front of me, standing arm in arm along side Evan Taubenfeld, her lead
guitarist. Again, I yank my Aless closer to the star. Nervously, my hand
reaches for her shinning shoulder.
My lucky fingers catch a glazing wisp of sweet red hair and a handful of
Avril. Her potent self turns on her heels, while Evan turns on his a second
later.
I must not have practiced enough, I think to myself, as I see that I am
frozen. She’s even more gorgeous in real life. I reviewed all of the
pictures of her I had recollected since her rise, and none of the them were
as breathtaking as she was now- a sea breeze tickling her features, neon
signs battling to reflect her face, and the touch of ice that was pinching
her nose and cheeks to make them red. “Thank you, Jack Frost,” I whispered
slightly under my breath.
She didn’t catch it. Thank god. “May I help you?” She asked.
I was pulled out of my daze and returned to our scene. Aless was beside
me, acting better than I was, and Evan was beside Avril, acting like a
bodyguard. I tried hard to deny myself the pleasure of asking the
screenplay writer for my next line. “Excuse us, but this night is just too
gorgeous to forget, would you mind taking a picture of my girlfriend and
I?” I said. My hand slid into my over coat to reveal a Kodak disposable. As
I handed it to her, I felt like asking her ‘to make it out to Nick’, but I
held back.
She held the cardboard box to her eye and Aless jumped around me (a bit
possessively, but still in character). Avril shifted to the left, and then
to the right. Then she dropped to one knee. The humanity in this girl
seemed unbearable. Hopefully, Aless would assume the default- that I was
smiling for her, and not for Avril. But all the photograph will show is the
smile.
The flash came, and Avril returned the camera. “That’ll be a good one, I
hope,” she said. As I recovered the camera from her grip, my fingers
lightly brushed her black leather gloves. I hadn’t even noticed she was
wearing gloves because my eyes had been trained on her face for so long. It
wasn’t until now that I even noted her clothing. Hiding the top of her
gloves was a deep red, rough-leathered coat with black fur lining. It was
closed too tightly to see what it covered, but I knew I would like whatever
was there. Her legs were draped with a ragged pair of wide jeans that
showed age in the rips and tears, but showed freshness in the purity of the
black die still holding onto the threads.
I pocketed my camera and spoke again. “Thanks, love. My name is Nicholas,
and this is my girlfriend Alessandra.” I extended my hand again, but this
time it was empty. She caught it and introduced herself.
“My name is Avril, and this is Evan. He’s not my boyfriend, but he sure
acts like it sometimes.” She was shocked to see that our stares held no
recognition in either of them.
Evan broke in. “Miami is gorgeous, are you from around here?”
“Trust me, you’re only seeing it’s charm. If you lived here, you wouldn’t
dare say anything like that,” said my girlfriend. Those were Aless’s first
words of the night- and they were very well done.
“You’re overreacting, dear. Miami does have its downsides, but so does
everything. Look at this sky, though. You can’t see a sky like that in many
places. But to answer your second question, we are from Miami. What about
you?” Why can’t I shut up?
“New York,” chirped Evan.
“Well, Canada Originally.” Avril threw a gaze at him that I couldn’t
decipher.
An awkward silence started growing. I lost my place again, and again Aless
found it. “Would you like to share a table with us at News Café? Trust me,
even when you’re in a pair you’re not safe after dark here.”
“To quote Will Smith- Welcome to Miami, Bienvenidos a Miami.” Why the fuck
did I say that?
Avril looked at her watch, then up at Evan. “We’ve got to get back to the
hotel by midnight, but yeah, I suppose we can join you.”
“Great, follow us.”
As we led Avril and Evan up Ocean Drive, I spoke about my oncoming
admittance to an art college and Aless spoke about her two dogs, Lucky and
Shadow. Avril and Evan were quiet throughout most of the five-block
journey, presumably because she was wondering if we recognized her fame.
Either way, the idea that the slight gusts of air that kept tickling the
hair on the back of my neck might have exited her lungs and kissed her
lips, excited me.
A few minutes later and a few footsteps farther, we arrived at News Café.
With the tourism attacking Miami during this time of year, a seat here is
available by appointment only. Luckily, the upgrade from two to four wasn’t
out of the question, though I think it was a result of the company we kept.
We were seated inside, near the windows that gave us a marvelous view of
the many partiers and yuppies with enough money to sit with a pile of
accumulating drinks underneath the awning by the street. Past them lay the
beach, and past that laid the waters that had long since been torn form
sunlight. The round table provided Aless to my right and Avril to my left.
I imagined points gathering as I held out the seat for my girlfriend while
Evan just sat himself ignorantly.
Avril’s first move was to remove her jacket. I had waited for what seemed
like a decade to see this unveiling, and now that it had come, I wasn’t
disappointed. The only thing that separated Avril’s nipples from the rest
of the room was a thin layer of cotton, and it seemed that the cold breezes
outside had long since kept their attention. I quickly averted my eyes and
laid them upon the menu that was forced onto my lap by our waitress. I
wished her gone; I wished the whole room outside our table gone. I wished
my wishes would come true, but they didn’t.
All around the table we went, and all that we desired were water glasses.
Our waitress left and I whispered “thank you” to her at another
unintelligible decibel. I turned my head to the celebrity couple. “So,
Avril, Evan, what are you two into?”
Avril spoke up first. “Well, I’m in a band with Evan, he plays guitar, and
I sing. I also write the songs. We’re pretty popular. I don’t want to sound
cocky, but I’m surprised you haven’t heard of us- heard of me. Haven’t you
seen everyone else looking at us?”
“Honestly, I just thought they were admiring your beauty. It certainly
attracted Aless and I.” Evan’s gaze was failing. I brought his imagination
back to the table. “Don’t worry Evan, we think you’re cute, too.” He smiled
with smug lips.
“So what kind of music do you guys make? Nick and I really only listen to
Goth music, mostly darkwave and ambient. I’m a sucker for a lullaby,” spoke
my girl. I felt like thanking Aless, too.
“Actually, we’re kind of pop, country, and general teen angst.” Evan was
dripping with jealousy. He’d known Avril for what seemed like an eternity,
and he’d never been able to act so nonchalant around her. I was able to
read all of this just from his disposition and grimace.
“Well, I love country. Well, not as much as I wish I did, but the darker
country gods are rather well known to me, like Johnny Cash. If you ask me,
it’s underrated,” I said, pulling at the thread. It was that final
statement that gave me what I’d been trying to steal from Avril all night.
I found her spot and I massaged it out from under her. I stole her
approval. I took it from her smile, the flick of her hair, the depth of her
breath, and the decreasing distance between us. But most off all, I took it
from her enveloping gaze.
I finally had Avril under my wing and I could play with her as much as I
dared for the rest of the night, for as long as I keep her company. I will
be her fond memory of Miami, and I will be her reason for return.
I will be her reason for return; this was my intent.
But that’s all a fantasy, and from here on out, the outcome is never the
same. The only part I’m sure of is that I will continue to go home with my
Alessandra. No matter how fantastic and how repeated my dreams are, none of
them will end without her. After all she is my number one fantasy, but
Avril Levigne’s recognition is just the whipped topping.
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BlueLinn
Fanatic   Posts: 246 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
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posted on 16/7/2004 at 09:04 AM |
Sometimes the smallest thing can cause a crush, a flick of the hair the way
the neck is positioned the glint of light in the eyes. Anything that one
can possibly find aesthetically apealing, even if it is a play on their
morals or their own particular tastes.... So that portion is not as far
fetched as it may seem, there just needs to be some elaboration upon
exactly, well.... everything in a more defined structure.
Next, the characters, ... ahhh, I'm sorry, but if anything, if you just
changed Avril to some made up star, then I don't think it would be half
bad. But everytime i even read her name her skreechy voice of skater boy
came into my head like fingernails on chalkboard.
I did like parts of the description of the starry night, but the first
paragraph made it seem as though aless was an imagination, where she was
with him and then it kinda gets spacy. The flow of everything, its just not
even.
Nice try though. ____________________
When the world is over, will we wonder how it began?
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Dolorosa
Extreme Fanatic   Posts: 856 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
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posted on 12/4/2004 at 12:25 AM |
Don't want to be harsh or anything, but I honestly couldn't get past the
second or third paragraph.
The first thing you have to do is write something people will want to read,
especially if you want them to read it. After that it's all downhill.
Premise was bad, style was bad, bad bad bad.
Good news is, you have nowhere to go but up! ____________________
In the valley of the Goats, the Goat Fucker is King
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feralucce
Extreme Fanatic  Posts: 1810 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
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posted on 8/4/2004 at 05:51 PM |
| ok ____________________
The earth turns on a tilted axis - just doing the best it can.
Hohenheim of Light~Full Metal Alchemist
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callei
Extreme Fanatic  Posts: 759 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
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posted on 8/4/2004 at 03:34 PM |
| he claims that it is, but it is clear that close family speak something
else. ____________________
Real goths wear silver and crosses to keep the werewolves and vampires
away.
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feralucce
Extreme Fanatic Posts: 1810 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
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posted on 8/4/2004 at 01:40 PM |
| I have an interesting question... is english the author's first language? ____________________
The earth turns on a tilted axis - just doing the best it can.
Hohenheim of Light~Full Metal Alchemist
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Schizo
Extreme Fanatic  Posts: 897 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
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posted on 7/4/2004 at 03:18 AM |
Beyond the mixed and flowery metaphors and the elusive sentence structures,
the main thing that boggles the mind is this. How did the main character
become Avril's wet dream simply by mentioning that he thought country music
was underrated? Most of the story seems pretty far-fetched, but that one
takes the cake. WorthlessLiar writes that at this point, he can do
anything he wants with her, and that she will come back to Miami for him.
Why?
And the subject matter itself is pretty weak. It would take amazing
writing skill to make a person's obsession with a star into good
literature. Someone here (I'm sorry, I forget who) wrote a piece of
fiction about Michael Jackson that worked very well, but it grabbed the
attention because it was well-written, and took some unexpected twists.
This story is dismally predictable. As a story, it fails miserably, and
even as a fantasy it lacks imagination.
I'm sorry. I tried so hard to find something nice to say, because I felt
so bad that this story recieved nothing but criticism. But I really
couldn't.
My advice - pare down your language. Pay attention to your metaphors. Use
them sparingly, and only one at a time. And put a little more thought into
your subject matter. Try to think - would any girl I know behave the way
my heroine did? If not, then why would she? If your characters are not
true to life, people will dismiss your story very quickly.
Better luck with your next effort. ____________________
"You can tell by the scars on my arms and the cracks in my hips and the
dents in my car and the blisters on my lips that I'm not the carefullest of
girls." - Dresden Dolls, "Girl Anachronism"
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EyeCandyRayce
Fanatic  Posts: 247 Registered: 19/1/2004 Status: Offline
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posted on 6/4/2004 at 03:26 PM |
I have to agree with everyone that it is very hard to read. Even after
reading it multiple times to try to understand what the purpose of the
story was I am still left scratching my head. It jumps around like a
chaotic thought process too much.
Here are specific things that left me confused:
Evan was dripping with jealousy. He’d known Avril for what seemed like
an eternity, and he’d never been able to act so nonchalant around her. I
was able to read all of this just from his disposition and grimace.
That is like saying "I could tell that he and his wife had a huge 3 hour
fight about the color of his socks because of the way he crossed his legs".
You are turning an assumption about the personal relationship between two
people into a fact simply by a grimace. It just seems to unrealistic.
I found her spot and I massaged it out from under her. I stole her
approval. I took it from her smile, the flick of her hair, the depth of her
breath, and the decreasing distance between us. But most off all, I took it
from her enveloping gaze.
You make it should like she was drooling on herself and climbing over the
table just to be next to you simply because you mentioned Johnny Cash. At
this point it becomes too much of a softporn fantasy rather than a
realistic situation.
But that’s all a fantasy, and from here on out, the outcome is never the
same. The only part I’m sure of is that I will continue to go home with my
Alessandra. No matter how fantastic and how repeated my dreams are, none of
them will end without her. After all she is my number one fantasy, but
Avril Levigne’s recognition is just the whipped topping.
This is what really made me go "huh?". I had to read this three times
before I realized you were trying to say it was not a real encounter but a
fantasy. That the story was all about some wet dream. But the final
sentence makes me wonder which it is yet again. It kinda tosses you up in
the air and goes "the end" *dump*.
I think if you toned down the exagerated descriptions and tried to be more
real you would find more compliments on your work. People like to read
things they can relate to and nobody thinks like you write. Plus you could
try to find a solid theme or plot to your story. This one seems to jump
around between many but still manages to have none. ____________________
Suicide Hotline - Please Hold
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Domkitten
Fanatic  Posts: 470 Registered: 23/9/2002 Status: Offline
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posted on 6/4/2004 at 08:29 AM |
| I'll just say there is a reason why David Lynch makes movies. ____________________
It's like kegel exercises for your throat.~Monolycus
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Britva
Moderator Posts: 37 Registered: 1/8/2003 Status: Offline
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posted on 5/4/2004 at 09:59 PM |
I think most people have hit on the most obvious thing that needs
improvement here, the writing style. Not to beat a dead horse, but the
language is way, way overblown. The line between evocative and pretentious
can be a blurry one, but I'm going to try and draw it here for you.
"I hug Aless to ward off the breeze, but my sheepskin duster is no match
for sea winds."
This is a nice, evocative sentence. It has a simple construction and a
consistent metaphor (warding off the wind, not being a match for it). It's
direct but with just enough detail to paint a picture.
"Darting between cars, I grow fearful the star might escape my eye, which
she does for many sporadic seconds behind truck cabs and billboards on
wheels."
This sentence, on the other hand, is very ineffective. It's full of
awkward constructions and phrases like "I grow fearful," "escape my eye,"
and "sporadic seconds." It's unnecessarily complicated, and it makes me
grow fearful that the plot of the story will escape my eye for sporadic
seconds behind your inscrutable word choices.
So I'm giving you a reading assignment. Raymond Carver's style is the
polar opposite of flowery, and I think if you read a few of his stories, it
will give you a better sense of the power of simple language. The man has
many great short stories, but I particularly like "Cathedral."
The bigger issue with this story, though, is the subject matter. I almost
rejected this story on the genre rule (celebrity fantasy? virgin porn?),
but in the end I decided it would be better to post it and then discuss why
it doesn't work.
This is a big fat case of "consider your audience." There is nothing in
this story for anyone who doesn't fantasize about meeting Avril Levigne.
This, incidentally, is why most people keep their fantasies to themselves.
The only tension here is the question "Will she like me or won't she?" to
which the average (non Avril adoring) reader responds, "Who cares?" There
are plenty of avenues for conflict and tension open, but you ignore most of
them in favor of a simple wish-fulfillment story.
That said, I'd also like to take this opportunity to make two quick
comments about, well, the comments: 1. I'd like everyone to keep in mind
that we are criticizing the story, not the author. 2. The two big things
that make criticism "constructive" are specific examples and solid
suggestions for improvement. Let's try to stay constructive.
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callei
Extreme Fanatic Posts: 759 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
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posted on 5/4/2004 at 08:09 PM |
"Write the way you talk, not how you think someone else talks. " this is
the advice that tends to get handed out. in this case (because i have
talked to you before) i would have to say "write the way other people talk.
you dont know what the words mean and it makes you look like a pompous
fool".
the thing about using "big words" is that people tend to misuse them (vigor
instead of ardor as an example), so check the words you use to make sure
they mean what you think they mean. Dont try to take poetic liscense with
the language until you know what that language means. yes i am harping on
it the same way i have for what 2 years now with everything you send in.
about the plot: the premise is weak, the characters are bland and
unloveable, there is no invitation to suspend disbelief, there are large
gaps in the believablity, and the word use makes it hard to get any idea
what you mean.
oh and its virgin porn. the climax of the story is missing. it also has the
halmarks of a "first chapter" in that you dont tell the story, you just set
the scene of the story to start.
____________________
Real goths wear silver and crosses to keep the werewolves and vampires
away.
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Merry_Widow
Fanatic  Posts: 598 Registered: 24/8/2002 Status: Offline
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posted on 5/4/2004 at 12:55 PM |
Okay, beyond the awkwardness of the first paragraph which has already been
covered...
Not to sound like the hippie in the Simpsons, but, Simplify, man! Instead
of saying "I recovered my camera from her grip" you can say "I took my
camera back." Using fancier language is cool, if done well and done
sparingly. But if there is too much of it, it's just hard to get
through.
The ending seemed too much like it was tacked on at the last minute to wrap
things up. You could have left it off with the whole "I will be her reason
for return; this was my intent" sentence and had an ending that was much
cleaner. And watch your tense. I'm not saying you can't flip a bitch with
your tenses if you are shifting around, but watch how you do it. Otherwise
you get left with a paragraph that doesn't sit right with the readers
sensibilities.
[Edited on 4/5/2004 by Merry_Widow] ____________________
Okay, dazzle me.
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feralucce
Extreme Fanatic Posts: 1810 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
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posted on 5/4/2004 at 11:59 AM |
Ok... my first piece of constructive criticism is this... when writing from
the first person standpoint, one needs to work out different ways to start
the sentence other than "I". it is a hard thing to do properly... but
throughout your story, you start your sentences "I this and I that" sooo...
for the sake or reader sanity... try something new... also... the first
paragraph... you are attempting to grab your reader's attention... and
honestly... you have three poerful metaphor's clashing there in the
opening... pick one of tem and run with it...just my 2 pennies
Feral ____________________
The earth turns on a tilted axis - just doing the best it can.
Hohenheim of Light~Full Metal Alchemist
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Devin
Administrator  Posts: 317 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Online
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posted on 5/4/2004 at 11:16 AM |
My problem with everything worthlessliar has ever submitted to the site or
asked me to read is that I can't read past the first paragraph.
No seriously, I just can't do it. Something abut the way his first
paragraphs always read just puts up a mental block in my mind and I click
something to get the story off my screen. I usually figure callei will
edit it.
This one is no exception. He always tries to pack too much imagery into
the very first paragraph with too many words instead of just a clear,
easily imagined scene. At least he's using smaller words than usual in
this one - and using them more or less correctly.
I still can't read past that first paragraph though. ____________________
So Sayeth Me
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