Young Writers Society

This is pretty much the first short story I've ever written.
But tear it apart, please!

It's for thechocolatewritingcat's competition using creative writing prompt 302. Write from the PoV of a spoon inside the dishwasher.

Hope you enjoy!
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The same old cycle, the same endless actions going on and on and on. It is our purpose; it is my purpose. But sometimes, purposes aren’t all that fun.
There is very little to alleviate the boredom that bears down upon me; I cannot see the world. I do not know of its colours, shapes or patterns. All I can do is listen to the world, listen to the sound of metal clinking on metal. Listen to the voices that weave together in incessant tangles of pitches, rhythms and volumes.
I can think too. I can lose myself in convoluted webs of thought that stretch on and on and on, each contemplation following on from the last, each one becoming more and more complicated until I can do no more but move onto the next.
I can listen and I can think. That is all.

Days hold no meaning for me, really. I only know of them because I hear them talk about days. They give the days names, much like they give their animals names. They remark on the days much like they do on the others who are like them, slandering and praising alike.
If it was just me, I would be able to keep track of the days. If I was the only one like me in this cramped drawer then it would be easy. But you cannot count the mornings when you spend weeks locked up, when there is no deviation in the routine to break up the monotonous cycle of your own repetitive thoughts.

The first thing I know is that the voice becomes less muffled. Whereas before it was distant and unclear, it is now sharp and loud. It is harsh and guttural, grating on the words like a rusty hinge forced to close. Soon after, I feel movement; something large and heavy closes around my body. I am being chosen! I am being freed from the heavy, claustrophobic confines of our prison and lifted out into the cacophonic world beyond.

I am carried for a short while, such a short time compared to the millions of moments that I have been waiting, and then I am set down again. It is a hard surface, a smooth surface. All I can think about is the space around me. I cannot tell how far it stretches, but there is nothing pressing against my side, nothing jostling me for space.

At first I am peaceful and calm; I just listen to the new noises that surround me. I can hear the low humming of an electronic object, I can hear the faint beat of a melody that is vibrating through the air, and I can hear the heavy thud of footsteps thumping the ground behind me.

All too soon, this peace is broken.

The surface beneath me judders hard and I feel myself jump in the air for a few moments. I can feel the air whoosh around me and for a second I feel freer than I’ve ever felt in my life. I know that something heavy has been placed near me; from the vibration I judge that it is in front and to the right. I can hear the sound of wood scraping across the floor and four muted thuds as the people sit down.

I am picked up again. But this time, I am not let go.

Heat courses through me and for a second I am immersed in a thick, clinging mass that envelopes me in a heavy bubble of silence and raging fire. I want a mouth to scream with. I want eyes so that I can plead with whoever is holding me, so that I can see what torture they’re putting me through.
The sensation soon leaves all of my body except for one place, my head. I know that I’m being lifted up again, higher and higher. I can feel myself sliding into a soft opening which closes around me like a noose that will soon tighten. Something hard knocks against my surface repeatedly, it hammers out any comprehensible thoughts from my body and leaves me clinging onto a fraction of my consciousness.
I am pulled out, and for a second I think it is over. I will be put back in my drawer and never, ever be chosen again.
But my hopes do not last very long.
The same actions are repeated over and over; I do not get a rest in which I can collect myself, or a brief pause which would at least serve as some sort of respite.

Some, logical part of me knows that it isn’t a long time at all since it began. Another part thinks it has been an eternity. The rest cannot think anymore.

And so it stops.

And my consciousness trembles with such force I think that I might start moving of my own accord. But of course, I don’t.

I am so tired, exhausted. I want to sleep, but I am not made for sleeping.

I know that I’m being moved again. Shuddering inwardly, I consider what I will be put through next. But nothing happens.

I hear a something slam, and then silence. It is just this suffocating silence that is oh so welcome to me. It caresses me with a tender touch as I pull together the fragmentations of myself which are still left within my frame. Before I can make sense of what has happened, another noise begins. It is a faint rumbling which seems to accumulate in seconds, roaring loudly like a beast that is ready for its next feed. I don't know what it is. I can't work out what it is. I can do nothing but wait for something else to happen, or just hope that nothing will happen at all.

And then the storm begins. A powerful wave of liquid batters down upon me, sending my body crashing against the edges of the holder I am in. I rattle against the edges as more and more water pours into and around the place I have been put in. The shrieking pang of metal hitting metal echoes through the container and I know that I’m not the only one who is subject to this strange and terrifying ordeal. I find solace in the fact that I am not alone. If others can endure it then I know I must be able to.

It seems like such a long time. It feels like perpetuity of thunderous noises and incessant pounding. It feels like I am going to be trapped in this hell-hole for the rest of my existence.
But all hurricanes must eventually blow themselves out. Nothing can really last forever, not really.

And that is what I tell myself. It will all end. Even I will end, although it won’t be the ending that humans have.

I will go through these actions again and again; I will be trapped in the cycle of suffering and waiting to suffer. But the cycle isn’t endless. The circle will break at some point.

As will I, I suppose.

I love it!! It made me laugh and I really enjoyed this. Right now I'm wondering why I love a story about a spoon. Maybe because it's a nice change. You are very well detailed and you make the spoon come alive! Amazing! I can't tear this apart because I love it to pieces!

Amy, Let me first say. You are completely amazing.
I could never put together a piece like this. It is outstanding!! I honestly cannot find anything to nit-pick. I honestly hope that you win this competition that you wrote this for!!

Thank you, guys

Okay, so I wrote a really careful review for this piece, but it was accidently deleted, it took me like an hour. I will try and type it up again for you. I apologize.

Wow, I almost don't want to use spoons anymore. The next time I eat soup I'm going to feel so bad! Haha. I think it's really interesting that you chose to write from the perspective of a spoon. You pulled it off really nicely. It's strange thinking of a life where you can only listen and think about the things around you, but never voice your feelings or show any indication of them. Really good job.

So, lets try this again shall we... Well, first off I really really liked this piece. It sincerely refreshing to read something new and different! Your detail is amazing...part of the reason I liked it so much, I am simile/metaphor junkie. Where ever did you come up with the idea?

I found the first paragraph to be utterly amazing, great job there.

Some Nit-Picks/Comments

Whereas before it was distant and unclear, it is now sharp and loud. It is harsh and guttural; grating on the words like a rusty hinge forced to close.

There should be a comma instead of a semi-colon here, since "grating on the words like a rusty hinge forced to close," is not a complete sentence. But let me say that I really really like that simile, its original and I could really picture it!

I was the only one like me in the cramped drawer then it would be easy.

I think the "the" should be replaced with this, since you never mention any drawer before.

I also think some kind of transition between paragraph 2 and 3 would be helpful. Just something to let the reader know these changes happen when the spoon is about to be chosen.

I am carried for a short while, such a short time compared to the millions of moments that I have been waiting for this, and then I am set down again.

I think the "for this" is unnecessary, I would consider getting rid of it.

All I can think about is the space around me, I cannot tell how far it stretches but there is nothing pressing against my side, nothing jostling me for space.

I would put a comma after stretches.

The surface beneath me judders hard and I feel myself jump in the air for a few moments. Something heavy has been placed near me; from the vibration I judge that it is in front and to the right. I can hear the sound of wood scraping across the floor and four muted thuds as the people sit down.

Here, I think more description would be nice. For example, you might describe the whoosh of air as the spoon jumps up in the air. Also how can wood scrape across the floor? That seems a bit confusing, perhaps you mean (boots or shoes) scrap across the wood floor?

The sensation soon leaves all of my body except for one place, my head. I can feel myself sliding into a soft opening which closes around me like a noose that will soon tighten.

I think a transition is necessary between these sentences, possibly the sensation of being raised? The first time I read it, I could not figure out what the "soft opening" was, until I was like oh, the mouth. A transition would help clarify that. In addition, I would add more transitions throughout that paragraph (The paragraph from "Heat courses" to "some sort of respite.") Possibly about the transitional movements, like mentioned above. Again, love the noose metaphor

It is just suffocating silence that is oh so welcome to me.

This is really just a personal preference, but I would put a "this" after just for clarification.

A powerful wave of liquid batters down upon me, sending my body crashing against the edges of the holder I am in. I rattle against the edges as more and more water crashes into and around the place I have been put in.

In this section I would reconsider word choice. You use "crashing," and then in the next sentence you use "crashes." I would use a different verb in the second sentence. You also use "the holder I am in" and "the place I have been put in." If you used something more descriptive and sensory in those areas, something where we get a feel for the holder, I think it would really add to piece. I really love the verb choice of "batters."

Metal sounds echo throughout the container, telling me that I am not the only one who is subject to this strange and terrifying ordeal.

In this sentence, "telling me" sounds a bit awkward, perhaps if you reworded like this it would fix the problem: "The metal sounds, echoing throughout the container, tell me..." Also, "metal sounds" is a bit vague. Try describing the sounds, whether it be the earsplitting clanging, or the shrieking pang of metal hitting metal. It would really add to the piece.

One Final Comment: At the beginning of the piece it seems like the spoon has been through this cycle many times, but as you read, it seems like this is the first time the character has been through it (considering that at the beginning she looks forward to being chosen, and by the end described it as "waiting to suffer.") I think you really need to clarify, at the beginning, that this story is about the first time the character went through it, because it could confuse the reader.

Overall

Despite my Nit-Picks, I really enjoyed the piece, it was well-crafted and the idea was very original. It made me smile, and it made me feel bad for my poor spoons!

If there was one area that I would focus on, it would be those transitions/transitional movements. It would really help clarify everything.



Well, there it is, for the second time! I tried to be careful, and do the piece justice, and I really hope it helps. Sorry for all the Nit-Picks, I really like when people give me nit-picks, so that is why I tend to give a lot when I am reviewing others work. Really, you are a great writer, and I truly look forward to reading more from you! All the best with contest!

If I could bother you to review my piece, it only has one review, and it isn't very long. Feel free to tear it apart! If you have the time here is the link: http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic53879.html

Thanks for the great read!

Audrey

Thanks so much for your help! It's really appreciated! I'll get onto it.

~Amy

Here I am, Aqua. Sorry it took some time for me to get here! I'll make the review extra comprehensive to make up for it, but I'm not sure there's much I can say. You used prompt 302? I think you should provide it in a spoiler, just so we can see what you worked with. I wasn't entirely clear that this was a dishwasher, but then, I can't see how you'd get that across without explicitly mentioning it, so I can only mention it and move on.

Don't start with "this is going to be bad" and "nobody will like it". Not only is it not true, but it influences the reader's opinion and can even put them off. A reviewer is more likely to try and tell you that you're good to combat that opinion, and you don't want them to gloss over the things that need improving. If your writing's bad, it'll be obvious when we read. If your writing's good, you're making it look bad with the self-pity. Either way, a little introduction like that is pointless. Mention if you haven't written a short story in a while, by all means, but don't doubt your own writing. What kind of confidence does that install in a reviewer? [/rant] Sorry, it just bugs me when writers do that.

Anyway, I'll nitpick first, as you asked specifically.

But sometimes, purposes aren’t all that fun.

My first thought was, "Who implied that they were?" Since when are purposes ever fun? Just seemed like an odd sentence to throw in there.

I cannot see the world, I do not know of colours, of shapes or of patterns.

Comma splice. This should be two sentences.

I do not know of colours, of shapes or of patterns.

And yet he's telling us about them. You can get away with it, but that sort of thing has always bothered me. I'd change it as follows. I know nothing of its joys and sorrows. Something like that, anyway. Something to imply that though the spoon knows of colours, shapes and patterns, he doesn't know of the world's specifically. Alternatively, now that I think about it, just insert an "its" into your original sentence and you can go from there.

If I was the only one like me in the cramped drawer then it would be easy.

I expected some rant to follow about the other cutlery and their intrusion on his life, but you don't seem to follow this up at all. Why is it relevent that he is not alone? (I'm not sure why I'm giving the spoon a male persona. Just go with it.)

The first thing I know is that the voice becomes less muffled.

You speak of this voice as if we've had close association with it before, and that we are aware that it was muffled, but as far as I can tell you've only skimmed over voices and their presence. Again, just a nitpick that you can probably get away with ignoring, but you never know what people will find confusing.

It is harsh and guttural; grating on the words like a rusty hinge forced to close. Soon after, I feel movement; something large and heavy closes around my body.

See point on semi-colon usage down below. The first one, though, should be a comma.

All I can think about is the space around me, I cannot tell how far it stretches

Another comma splice. Change to a full stop.

I can hear the low humming of an electronic object, I can hear the faint beat of a melody that is vibrating through the air,

Technically, I think this is another comma splice, but you could probably leave it. It looks like a list, so you're all right.

But this time, I am not let go.

Awkward sentence there! See if you can reword? I would suggest, but I'm drawing a blank.

I want eyes so that I can plead with whoever is holding me

I love the language here. It's just beautiful, but I can't help feeling that you'd need a mouth to plead with, rather than eyes. I know what you mean, but it's still weird.

my head.

Again, I question the description. Is head correct? I know it's really hard to write like this, because you have to remember what your character does and doesn't know. Obviously a spoon wouldn't be able to think and feel, so yeah, I'm allowing you some leeway. But still, be careful not to drop in ideas that the spoon wouldn't know of. Parts of the human body, maybe. If I asked you to change that, I'd be seriously nitpicking, but as a warning for the future, if you write like this again, keep it in mind.

I know that I’m being moved again, shuddering inwardly, I consider what I will be put through next.

I think this is another comma splice. I know that I'm being moved again. Shuddering inwardly, I consider what I will be put through next.

And then the storm begins.

Sentences with conjunctions, and fragments. You're overdoing it a bit. See below.

I find solace in the fact that I am not alone, if others can endure it then I know I must be able to.

Comma splice here. New sentence before "if".

It feels like perpetuity of thunderous noises and incessant pounding.

I'd choose between "perpetuity of" and "incessant". They mean the same, so you can't really have a "perpetuity of incessant pounding".

Lovely ending. *claps*

I really like this. The voice can be irritating at times, and keep your vocabulary on a tighter leash next time, but here it seemed to work. I've got a few points, just to summarise my crit.

Your transition from sentence to sentence needs some work.

You need to make sure you aren't overusing the semi-colon. I think the previous reviewer picked up on an actual misuse of it, but more often it's just that you use it wherever you can. Semi-colons are nice, and if you use them properly look very good, but overuse them and they become obvious, same as exclamation marks. There's a time and a place, and even if they fit, not all sentences have to be joined with one.

Equally, comma splices. Be careful with those! They slip through the net so easily and I can see you might be tempted to use a semi-colon in replacement. Stick with full stops for a bit.

Transtions as a whole, actually. You have quite a few unrelated sentences, just strewn around in different paragraphs. It's acceptable once or twice, but there's a point in there where you just have about five straight sentence paragraphs, which is pushing your luck a little.

Don't overdo those sentences that start with conjunctions. I do it myself, but often you just end up with a lot of fragments. It can be difficult for the reader to make sense of. I'm not sure what to advise you to do on that front, but I think you need to be aware of it. Take a few of them out, if you can, but I know how difficult it is to avoid using them, and it would be hypocritical for me to go too far with that. So I'll leave that to your judgement.

That's me done and dusted. I'm in the contest too, but good luck! This is very good, and I shudder to think I shall be competing against it. Hope my review helped, anyways.

This is insanely good! Oh my gosh, I can just picture everything happening! And how unique to make it about a spoon? Great job!

I will never be able to look at a spoon the same way again. I absolutely adore the personification in this piece. Usually, with inanimate objects, it can be pretty tricky but you pulled it off very well, if not perfectly. Everything just seemed so appropriate to the spoon, whether someone be eating with him or washing him in a dishwasher. I wonder how he would have felt if someone washed him by hand? I'm going to be much more careful with my spoons from now on. XD

that was very good!

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i liked the part where the spoon got used, you described it very well. you made spoons come alive, which couldn't have been as easy as a story about a human. it was different, which is great.