Quiet Concern..

Question

Well I'm currently in the midst of a number of University interviews and for a few of them I have to send off short samples of my writing before I attend. With this in mind, this recent story is shorter than what I usually write. I would really appreciate your comments and criticism before I send it for. Thank You.

The Story: [url="http://www.andrewdust.com/quietconcern.htm"]http://www.andrewdust.com/quietconcern.htm
[/url]

Peter · Accepted Answer

Is that a true story? That really captures so much! short, to the point and captivating

Andrewdust · Answer

It is semi-true I suppose. Essentially both characters are me and each reflects the two sides of an internal conflict I had a few months ago whilst deciding what course I wanted to take at University (which would lead to what I'd do with the rest of my life). Whilst I enjoy programming and web design my true passion was writing; however, I was worried about the sort of future this would lead to. After a lot of thinking I decided that it was important to follow my dreams. So that's basically what inspired me to write this.

Heh I really wish I had a friend like James. Although his desires take on mine he was half inspired by Kerouac's Dean Moriaty (whom I also wish was my friend) and half by Ayn Rand's Howard Roark.

Andrewdust · Answer

any more comments would be.... great

GuyD · Answer

Andrew,

You have written an excellent short story. I do not have time to critique it now, since I will be travelling for the next few days. When I finally get settled in my destination, I will give your story enough attention to justify any comments and suggestions that I have.

Know for sure, however, that you have written a good story.

Maj · Answer

We are all looking forward to reading your story! Cheers.

Andrewdust · Answer

maj...... what are you talking about. the story is in the link on the first post....

and thanx guyd

GuyD · Answer

Dear Andrewdust:

As I promised, I have reviewed your short story and taken the liberty of making suggested corrections. Again, I want to congratulate you on a well written document. You have real talent that you should continue to develop. I would suggest that you purchase "The Elements of Style" by William Strunk and E.B. White. It costs only $7.95 here in the US. Below is my rewrite of your story, followed by some general suggestions.

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Quiet Concern

By Andrew Dust

A friend of mine is leaving today[--]the greatest friend one could wish for[--] and I suppose this explains my heartfelt sadness for the occasion. Occasions usually require gifts [and above all]—(Omit.), whether [they] be weddings, birthdays or Christmases[.] The going-away gift is the most important and consequently the most difficult to consider. After all, what gift could strike that tall golden chord of superlative intimacy[,] and how does one pay tribute to something as rare and immortal as genuine friendship? This is what James and I had and it is [he]—(do not use italics to add emphasis.) who is leaving.

The first time [that]—(Omit.) I [ever]—(Omit.) saw [James] - when I was fifteen – he seemed to appear out of nowhere, as if his existence [were]—(Use the subjunctive in stating conditions contrary to fact.) by mistake, [the result of a peculiar cosmic imbalance]—( I would leave this out. It’s a little too much for your reader, a bit of overwriting.). Standing on the playground wall, his back arched and his hands to the sky, he proclaimed at the top of his voice something about disregarding fear or knowing only the ambition of one’s passion - I can’t quite remember because he’s told me so many other important things over the years. Everyone decided he was mad, including

, [and was promptly removed by the dinner ladies whom I recall nattering about Coronation Street, or some such television soap, in that understanding womanly tone.]—(I don’t follow your thought here. Rephrase.)

It was later that I discovered he shared my interest for writing[.] I [happened upon] him one time in the school library scripting a play[,] and I [took the opportunity] to start a conversation. I dawdled over a few ideas of my own[,] and it was as if I’d lit a firework. He considered my suggestions with an inspiring enthusiasm[,] and I saw those insatiable blue eyes sparkle like bulbs of electricity for the first time. His fantastic ideas [burst] out of mine like the wild branches of a tree[,] and when he spoke[,] his whole body leapt with such excited animation that we were soon asked to leave. We marched out side by side[,] and our selfish conversation raced through the corridor – [through the years]—(a non sequitur. Rephrase or omit.).

Frequently we’d have tea at James’ house. It was always a sad journey there, passing reams of dripping terraces and faceless dog walkers wandering up or down the long slope through town under the grey clouds of England - but that was all soon forgotten as I stepped through his door. We [sat]—(avoid the passive voice) with bowls of soggy cereal discussing the prospects of putting on a play or some other glittering adventure. He’d frequently ponder over the idea of running off to America; I would remain quietly reserved.

I remember when we laughed at the disappointment of that hopeless British mission to Mars, [Beagle 2], and then laughed harder when America’s [Rover] landed successfully and lit our television sets with a warm red glow. Together we imagined Bruce Willis clinging [to] the side of the shuttle as it shot through the spotlight stars like a bullet[--]the adorable [Beagle] being caught in [stampeding]—(I don’t think this is the right word, but not knowing for sure what you mean, I hesitate to recommend another one. Rephrase.) [Rover’s] path[,]—(Use the ellipse to indicate that something is left out, not as a continuing thought. Use comma instead. If you use an ellipse it should be three spaced period . . .) then rattling along through empty space like [aluminum] can caught in the wind, [teabags for parachutes]—(omit. Don’t overwrite.) Those were he best times[--]the times we could laugh without having to worry about where in space we [ourselves would]—(this seems to be the best word order.) end up.

(I would switch over to dialogue here.) Once James’ dad asked me about my school subjects and how I was [doing]. He nodded politely as I told him [about the] university placements I’d been offered, and then he glanced at his son[,] who turned his head away indifferently. He asked me about the career I wished to pursue. Unlike James[,] I had recently grown [ashamed] of [talking about] my writing ambitions[,] and answered, “something in economics.” James then picked up his pen and paper and walked up the stairs as if he were uninterested in the conversation; I on the other hand felt [too weak to stand](Really? Your reader will not believe this. Your reader will think this an overstatement. Use something like “and I on the other hand felt rejected or abandoned or deserted.)

Sometimes of course [James sprinted]—(avoid passive voice) over to my house. Usually I’d be sitting in my room, half engaged in studying some tedious textbook and half worrying about how James was going to get through his exams. There’d be a violent knock at the door[,] followed by the rumble of legs lumbering up the stairs[.] He’d fall into [my] room[--]some new script flailing madly in his hand like a diamond he’d dug up the world for. He’d push my books aside and slam down the treasure in front me. Eventually a regretful period began during which I’d carelessly skim through his work[.] I didn’t have time for such things anymore.

After school we saw less of each other. Rather than head to [the] niversity[,] I accepted a job in a sales department for a school uniform franchise, and James moved to a small flat on the other side of town where he said he’d find the solitude he needed. My [job] was both boring and demanding[,] which is the worst [kind of boredom], [let alone a fulltime position]—(non sequitor.). I’d catch myself staring at the empty white gaps of the computer monitor wondering how James was faring or trying to remember how his eyes looked on that day in the library.

Around seven months ago, [while day-dreaming] time away in the office, I received a telephone call from James’ dad. Politely he explained [his concern] for his son[.] [“James,” he said, “[will] not answer the telephone [or open] the door to his flat.” He [asked me to] pay him a visit[,] since I was a close friend [and James] might speak to

. When I got there[,] I was greeted with silence[. In a] panic I threw my weight against the door, which detached from its hinges more easily than I had anticipated[,] and I fell to the [floor] with a mighty crash. I found myself lying in a confused snow of paper and rubbish[,] and there before my [sorry]—(Chose another word.) eyes was James[’ figure]—(Leave out.) lying under the windowsill, shaking and murmuring quietly in a drunken fit of [despair]. I lifted his thin body into my arms, carefully stepped through the spread disarray of sheets, and lay him in his bed. [His eyes were dull and glassy with red cracks forming at either side; they swirled despairingly[,] looking for some stable warm object to rest upon]—(Overwriting). I drew the curtains.

Collecting and organi[z]sing his scripts from the floor was a mighty task, much like raking leaves and then attempting to pile them in the order [in which] they fell, so I took a week off work. Some sheets made perfect sense while others were mad incomprehensible scribbles of rage and frustration. Slowly it came together. I rewrote areas and left him notes of my own ideas and after a few days James recovered. He didn’t [want to talk to me], so I left wishing him [good] luck.

That was all some time ago now[,] and I hadn’t heard from him much since. It was yesterday morning that I received a call around nine-thirty[,] and after picking up the [phone, I thought at first] it was James’ dad again. To my surprise it was James himself[. After his initial greetings[, he explained] in a rushed and joyous tone that a production company in America [wanted] to meet him [regarding] a play he’d recently finished writing. I offered my congratulations and said I’d see him off - at this he sounded suddenly disappointed. Refusing to explain why, he hung up.

Since that moment I’ve been lost in [a] deep forest of thought. Now however, as I walk through the tall glass doors into the airport, I know what gift suits the occasion. I pass through the masses of people who rush needlessly about and then swing my bag onto the conveyer belt as if casting [it] off. I spot James and we embrace because we are old friends. Side by side we walk through the tunnel and find our seats on the plane[. Eventually], after a few coughs and splutters from the engine, the plane lifts effortlessly into the air.

I look out the window; at the never-ending sky and know that in the far distance through the obscure grey clouds, past the ghostly fields of squashed housing and cold cups of tea are the bright shining golden lights of another land, and that am facing their direction. James does not gaze through the window; he sits with his eyes closed and arms folded in rest, his script tight against his heart. He knows exactly what it looks like; he has .

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Andrew, you have a tendance to "overwrite." I quote from "The Elements of Style":

"Rich, ornate prose is hard to digest, generally unwholesome, and sometimes nauseating . . .." Get a copy of "The Elements of Style" and read the whole section.

Use figures of speech sparingly. You border on the overuse of the simile and metaphor.

Go back through your short story and prune out the unneeded adverbs and adjectives. Your writing is a bit "purple." Learn to write with nouns and verbs, not with adverbs and adjectives.

Remember, a dash is not one dash but two.

All in all, you have a good short story. Rewrite it a few times, remove unnecessary words, prune our unneeded adjectives and adverbs, don't overwrite, use similes and metaphors sparingly, and you are on your way to delighting your readers.

Guy

Andrewdust · Answer

thank you indeed for this thorough analysis of my writing. I'm sure this very browser window will be open when i come to redraft the piece

I have put in an order for "the elements of style" and look forward to reading it.

in regards to "organi[z]sing"... using Z's in these words is American English. Since i live in the UK i think it more appropriate to spell words like these with an S.

Also on the bit about feeling to weak to stand, i didnt really expect the reader to believe it. It was spose to reflect that the narrator felt as if he'd betrayed James, its spose to be kinda hyperbole, and I felt that continuing the theme of movement (and lack of) emphasised the contrast between the two characters.

Thanks for your time. Really really appreciated

GuyD · Answer

Great. I look forward to your next revision.

Quiet Concern..

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