/lit/ - Literature

The first bit of a character back story for a novel I'm working on. I don't know where it's going yet, but we'll see.

Part 1 because it just barely goes over the word limit.


He tried his hardest not to forget anything about her. There were aspects he didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget, like the rose red of her favorite lipstick or the way she would wrinkle her nose when she was focusing really hard. Still, just a few years ago, he would have been able to describe every nebula, spot, and wave that lined her pupils, and now all his brain could do was sputter a vague “green”.
The night she died, there was no argument. There was no secret he needed to divulge. He hadn’t been preparing an elaborate dinner or proposal. Emma was already his wife, confidant, and therapy. It had been raining and she had left the house to run an unknown errand before he’d come home from the church. The policeman who came to his door said that she must have hydroplaned, that maybe she was distracted or startled by something as she was merging. He said it was a miracle that she didn’t take anyone else off the road with her. His uniform was damp and smelled of rain and sweat. He said he was sorry. For whatever reason, Charles could still remember the policeman’s eyes vividly. They were dark and languid, the whites spattered with clusters of sky blue.

>>3854661
As the policeman walked away, Charles couldn’t think of anything but the fact that Emma was a stubborn atheist. It had never been a problem between them, his faith and her lack there of. The first time they’d met, he’d argued with her about God for hours, after which they agreed to see each other again. But now, all he could think about was how she was sure that nothing would become of her once she had stopped breathing. That was her wording, too, “stop breathing”. She’d only said “dead” a few times in the 4 years he’d known her. It ate away at him, what she must have been thinking as she spun out. It wasn’t “Oh God”. He was sure that the only thought repeating in her head was “I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m fucking dead”. He was sure that tires screeched, car horns blew, rain drops spattered on the windshield, and the last thing she ever felt was cold fear welling up from her stomach to her chest. He was sure that she didn’t even have enough time to express it.

Threw this together a while back. meant to be the start for a robot detective story styled after Asimov's Caves of steel.

PROLOGUE

“JEREMY! JEREMY SQUILER, COME IN THIS INSTANT!”
With a start, young Jeremy woke from what would normally have been a rather pleasant nap. Instead, the yelling of his Aunt Sue only served to warn him of impending trouble. Stretching out against the back of the tree he had decided to rest under, Jeremy looked down the hill where his family’s home was. Out in the middle of farmland, this was practically the middle of nowhere. Sure, there were some towns a few miles out, and even a city a few further, Jeremy’s small neck of the woods felt like an isolated island in a sea of cows and trees.
After waiting a few, he began to make his descent towards the homestead. Jeremy had learned quickly not to keep his Aunt waiting too long. A large and intimidating woman who was not afraid to swing her weight around, she and Jeremy’s Grandfather were the only family left in the world for the young boy.
Jeremy had only been 5 when it happened. The day had been a regular day in every regard. That is, until the loud screech in the sky, that served only to foretell their doom.

>>3854653
>>3854661
>>3854664

Reads well enough, does the story go deeper, or is it just the main character wallowing in despair?

>>3854675
Thanks. He's actually just one of a little under a dozen characters. I'd like it to be complex, and I have a few ideas I think are very good to get it there, but that will come in time.
>>3854670
Your diction runs all over the place. I'd stay away from using words like "doom" and overusing "young", especially in front of the boy's name. Other than that, it's not bad. I like your description of his aunt. If you can keep that tone up, I think it'll turn out great.

>>3854653
>>3854661
>>3854664
i like it but i don't really like the details on the eyes, also i believe the wife killed herself(no reason i am just dark)

Onward and upward was my trek. Ever forward towards the promise of a bright future, something dimly seen but ever present. Nothing to look back on but darkness, the abyss; waiting for me to lose my resolve and shut my eyes to the light.
I couldn't climb my way out of this despair. It was not as simple as lifting my self over the obstacle. I couldn't use my power to overwhelm it or overpower it in a short burst and be free of it. The only way left to me was to hike an unknown distance in a direction illuminated by only a single ray of hope. Never knowing what i must traverse or what awaited me at the end plagued my fevered imagination. Little actual choice in the matter since to stay stationary was to die.
The muscles in my legs cried to my nerves for rest. My mind was rattled with aches and pains that all pleaded for attention loud enough to drown each other out. My bleeding souls gathered what touched them, and each sharp stab made it easier to grow numb to the empty ache in my stomach. The only thing i hungered for anymore was the light.
My mouth was dry but each breath was moist. The air tasted dank but a faint breeze was felt. What once was a sliver that i strained to see now washed over my face. When i had first lifted my self off the ground and started on the path i could not see the feet beneath me but each step brought more into my view. Fist it was the outline of my feet as they passed over the dark, and before a quarter of a mile was through i could see the red of my blood staining the sand and stone. This visual froze me.
I had been lost in my despair already given up and had only walked forward because i needed time to come to terms with my death, but now i stood in the light. Freedom's opening only feet before me. My muscles cried more loudly for rest but now my mind was engulfed in rage. Who i was came back to me. The why of where i was came back to me, and a smile replaced my thirst for the light. The smiling face of he who threw me into this cave.

>>3854670
I really like how you described the setting it painted a really nice picture in my mind also the aunt was funny i got an aunt like that.
i wanna read more

1/1

Endless misery, wallowing in pity, read the diary of a recluse nobody. Three summers long gone. Three years of flowers and sun. Ginger thought she had him forever.

>>3854725
I dig it. More, please.
>>3854709
I wasn't really into the first bit of it, but it got better and better as you got into the detail. Your descriptive voice is very good, if not very organized. I'd consider restructuring your sentences a little bit, just so that the reader doesn't pulled into any sort of monotonous narration.

>>3854661
He couldn't forget, the red of her lipstick was tea rose scarlet from sephora at the corner of union square he'd see the corner of the impossibly tiny black and white bag in her hands, smooth skin finally wrinkling with her nose in the focus of spotting him. But he used to remember what day that happened on, the weather, where they had eaten before and what they ate after. His brain sputtered green lights of recognition every now and again, mainly in the moments of morning and evening in haze of delta brainwave seeking the interior monologue of association (the inner synapse dance she had not stepped through in so many seasons, the marks made dusty, the ties without bind).


That's me tho. Mostly I want to shorten EVERYTHING and condense. Put in less explanation and more description. What are the policeman's eyes reflecting? What kind of car does Emma drive, and can I Watsum?

But I like it, OP. Keep it up. Here's me:

>>3854750
wow thanks
I have been trying to think how to fix the sentence structure, thanks i will continue to fiddle with that.
The first part is what made me wanna write the rest so i need to know was it cliche? preachy?
also the organization of the descriptions is shit just need to keep fiddling thank-you

>>3854774
Here's me: (the end of laughter and soft light)

She wouldn’t put that near her fanny

any closer to the seam

since the tip of her nose had gotten tan on foreign rays,

fatter and aged: Ultra Violet melanoma

freckles could portray youth

lace age (asymmetry border color diameter)

noting walked cobblestones

leather markets smell marketplace

authenticity as distance

sweltering scenes sundrenched markets

beaches and seasons hemisphered

time zones adding sleepy distance to all human contact, first language

and wide eyed dark skinned

priss-pot boys

would click and lull their tongues passing, the little boys threw stones, little stinging pebbles in single shot in tiny rubberbands neverminding until a hole ripped her paper cup to pour stream steaming fresh tea and lemon pulp

Once, two priss pottery pieces of antiquity and western europe eastern edge

with a quick glance

all of them in mirrors

many long fingered hands wrapped her in place

connecting her eyes to the quicksilver fastening

reflection off reflection off what could be called eye contact

but was refraction reflection

other versions

and just as she looked into their eyes, it was her eyes looking into she had the least time with

the most disorienting and the most distracting from the feelings of

pressing one flesh to think layers of sweat

and softer skin

(and softer softer skin)

Her breasts held without a bra, her panties a small lined stripe of fabric

Sundress gives fabric and the lightest scratch polycotton blend

hands above and in

the masturbation superhighway so

She smiles when she thinks of that day

crosses her legs and

addresses Sunday with a faint smirk.

>>3854774
>delta brainwaves
that is really a style choice

but i liked the first part where you collected the details of the wife and formed a memory for the character

>>3854778
Damn i don't know what this is about
I think its some British chick on holiday somewhere who masturbates because some black kids spilled her tea?

here's my prologue.

On a very long table in the library there sat a bowl of fruit.
The bowl itself was crafted very nicely and with the utmost care and inside the bowl was most delicious fruit you could imagine, alongside the bowl a candle burned and flickered despite the house being seemingly unoccupied. Suddenly a gust of wind picked up knocking books off of shelves, the candle danced in the wind until it was no more. A scruffy looking man wearing nothing but black head to toe, his eyes where as gray as slate, he reached for an apple out of the fruit bowl and sunk his teeth into the apple. With that first bite his mouth burned as a plethora of flavour was released inside his mouth.
"Too sweet" he criticized as he tossed the apple across the room "It's alwys too sweet"
"It is a sin too waste my old friend" bellowed another voice
"fruit is why there is sin in the world" japed the man dressed in black.

i'm better than GRRM, right? RIGHT?

>>3854807
interesting
i like it but last line i didnt like the second use of the word mouth not necessary i know u taste things in your mouth u dont need to explain that

>>3854846

Cheers, it's about two spirits who make a bet over tempting a family to commit evil atrocities.

Here's my paragraph about camping:

The camping trip was pleasant. Burgers were cooked, well-cooked, but delicious. There was a fire, bright and warm. Also blankets, to add to the warmth. The blankets were laid on chairs, sometimes lifted from the chairs and laid on legs. The chairs, by careful adjustment, were the perfect distance from the fire. Close enough for marshmallow toasting convenience, but just the right distance so that the heat was perfect. Not searingly hot, not dissatisfyingly lukewarm. Jokes were plentiful, as were good stories, coming from the experienced and wise adults. Some of the stories were scary, some were funny, and some sad. Whatever the story was, the kids would be listening intently. Leaning forward, hands rested on chins. When the story was over the kids would be excited, to the point of raucousness, and the adults would have to calm them down.

>>3854938

anyone??

>>3854938
its bland and boring
everything is a little of this a little of that. Too many details, i don't care where the blankets are. The kids are props and the adults are some kind of generic
sry bro but i just don't believe you care about any of it
also
> Burgers were cooked, well-cooked, but delicious
why wouldn't they be delicious they were cooked well

Posted this a few nights ago. Never got any critiques.
http://pastebin.com/fMqvhfhz
It's short, don't worry.

>>3855040
>he turns the crusty webcam away and sits under the stream of water contemplating what he’s just done.
Pure gold bro Pure gold
i don't know what pansexual is and i don't care but it was perfect

>>3855066
You actually like it?

>>3855069
oh my god it was great
i might send it to a friend if that's alright

>>3855071
Yeah go for it man.
Still can't tell if trolling or not.
I have a bit more written, it'll end up being a short novella if I finish it.
I still don't know how to tie it all together though

>>3855040

The prose is engaging, but... I don't know about the content, why are these office job people all gathering in a room to a watch a guy masturbate, and making it a ritual... that doesn't seem like normal behaviour to me lol

Also, what accent is Richard and his mom supposed to have? I can't really tell.

I do feel sympathy for the character's you've made though... good job

I think the average reader would be put off by the opening sentence though

>>3855075
no joke i like it
if u post this part on lit again when u publish i will buy the novella
honestly i thought some parts were a bit long winded but they all paid off in the end i didn't laugh out loud but i did chuckle inside for a good 10min

>>3855078
Well they work for a NSA type government program. The idea is they have to watch it because he's put up so many red flags, so they make it into a joke.

It's supposed to be Canadian. I'll have to flesh it out a bit.

>>3855084
Cool. I'll keep working on it and see if I can get it done.

>>3855086

damn.. we talk like normal people u know... lol

>>3855086
Shit man, I'm identifying.

>>3854750
2/2
Previous passages spoke little of warm spanish summers, the humid breeze allowing a second of respite, the stupor of cheap wine, the smell of rain soaked lilacs. Charcoal etched entries were easily erased, but the vivid recollections that lived in her mind lingered like the smudges of grey and black on a white page.

>>3855089
haha yeah It's not supposed to be a joke on Canadians, but more of a joke about the stereotype Canadian accent. I go in to a bit more detail about that later.

>>3855084
Since you like it, here's one of the other set of character's introduction. I don't like it as much as what I posted, I'm still trying to polish it so maybe I can get some feedback
http://pastebin.com/MGPuqWL6

>>3855078
this guy is right about everything
xi accept that the survelliance people are twisted people with a twisted sense of humor but also the guy sets off terror flags he has to be watched for the security of us all
also i think u might be a brit because the accent came off as brit not Wisconsin.
and ya average readers would be put off on the beginning ,i was, but people who read nowadays aren't average

>>3855098
>be the end of its very own novella length paperback.
dont like it make it a corny hallmark movie
>...oh wait, that doesn’t make any sense
i chuckled out loud
also i think the transitions between paragraphs need help its a little too jarring when it jumps from disappointing work to disappointing in sex

>>3855113
The joke was that it was cheesy like a hallmark movie, then I acknowledge it when I say "its just too happy for you bastards"
Does that not come across?
I agree with you on the paragraphs, they need work.

>>3855093
3/3
'It's been a year. Come on, we're going out tonight.' Angelica kept her in shape. She was her last outlet to society. For a year Ginger refrained from the hollow company of ghouls who did nothing but punish their lungs and livers. The trendy dresses, the labour of curling hair, the sting of hardened liquor, she saw at once for what they were as soon as she realized the comparable pain of loneliness and dis attachment. To further mull over her heartbreak was to accept and be crushed by the gravity of her loss. There was a certain stress harder to put off with resisting these types of memories. Bottling them only shook her foundation. An endless cycle of sustained grief and forgetfulness.

'You know, if you already lost him, and you're being down about it, well, you might as well do it the best you can.' She never took full meaning of her brother's advice. When he returned home from her pilgrimage, that was the only thing he talked about, and Ginger never uttered her feelings to anyone, even to Angelica. But the sensitivity of a monk, and the intuition of a brother, were enough to detect the distress she had kept within.

>>3855114
no that comes across fine but novella isn't fun to read it makes you think

Does anyone think about the rhythms of what they want to write before they think of the words themselves. Like you'll say something in your head that you like but then you examine it and find it doesn't mean anything, not that you're speaking in nonsense words like "blah blah blahblah blah" but just that there was almost nothing there to begin with?

>>3855126
First I find what I have to say, then try to write in a pleasant rhythm. Not in the flowery look at me im a poet way, but in continuous harmonius flow that connects previous sentences.

>>3855126
not really sure what u mean
I think of a sentence sometimes then while i type it and read it doesn't really make mesh with what i was thinking until i fiddle with it
but i am never sure if anything i write makes any sense
Like the thing i wrote was meant to be a play on the idea that when u die there is a white light and a long tunnel, but life is just a journey down path which we don't know the destination but we have to walk all the same

>>3855125
You mean the word novella? Would it be smoother if I just said novel?

>>3855142
i think it would be best if you said commercial

and could u give me your opinion on my piece
>>3854709
>>3855141

>>3855034
I think he means well-cooked as in well-done (rare, medium, well-done). You are still right, it's a clumsy sentence

>>3855034

thanks for the review

>>3855301
yeah that's what I meant