Rubber Immortal, Part Three

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Hey Hannah –

I must say, you timed your breaks rather artfully so that it could have quite easily ended on the second part – and even on this third. Something I am coming to terms with about your writing – there is a bubbliness to it. A feeling of effusion. A very concrete quality to all the surreal things that happen.

In this third section, the first part is great. It has just the oomph for a continuously humorous delivery – the conflict between Ruth and James, the shoe, the mystery of the basement filled with rubber things, immortality – the whole ridiculousness of it all amused me. There is a sense of exaggeration, something fascinatingly oxymoronic here. After that, it’s downhill.

Let’s take a look at it:

Ruth is laying on her cot with a book draped over her face.

It annoys me to point out little things like this that are really of no consequence to you as a writer – ‘laying’ or ‘lying’? Pretty sure the latter. ‘Draped’ sounds too curtainy. Pick a more solid verb.

The type almost melts onto her skin like a temporary tattoo. Her tears are almost their catalyst. Almost, but not quite; the pages just get a little wet.

Ha – your dodgy descriptions make me so uneasy. They’re great where they’re fully weird – like when describing the tyre – but when they’re halfway weird, they just don’t cut it for me. Since melting the type onto one’s skin using the tears…not impossible, highly improbable and highly unlikely. I prefer you to exaggerate and poke fun at your own exaggerations than halfway exaggerate and be dead serious about a hazy hodgepodge.

Ruth pushes a book across the floor with her foot so that it sits on top of the door.

Something I missed in the first section, probably- is she on a bunk bed? That’s the only way her foot could reach the top of the door.

“No,” she mumbles. Maybe a little too loudly.
“Chief told me to ask you if you were okay. Well, he didn't, but he said you've been up here for …………………………..
James says, taking a seat on one of the steps. “He's trying to find a way to make himself immortal.”
“What?”

Everything in between here is great. Witty, sharp, quirky; exactly what we need, unlike the padding you had in the latter half of section two.

“Well, I mean, that's really all there is to say. We've got a friend from the working days that runs a scrap metal place, so Chief doesn't worry about that. He just wants to collect the rubber. Thinks that we can meld it to him, replace him piece by piece with patches, and he might get to go on living. Might even be able to start working again. The problem is, we don't really know how to go about it. It's a sore spot between us that I refuse to do the patches myself, even though I can. Never patched him when I drove him, and I don't know much about his kind. Don't know enough to know whether or not a patch will change him. Don't know how to tell when he's dying or when he's gone. He's a poor old guy, and I think it's a lot of strain to go through, trying to make yourself immortal. But I post his requests online every week, hoping to find someone that is understanding enough to help him out. They think we're crazy. I fucking hate people that don't know what they're talking about. Anyways, that's it.”

I feel this speech too long. Break it up with comments from Ruth. An eyesore.

“I'm sorry,” says Ruth. She doesn't really know what else to say. What else can she say? She's one of the people that James hates: she doesn't understand what he's saying. She doesn't know what she thinks about the tire's plan. Immortality? If it were possible for anything, it would be possible for something made from rubber and metal.
“But, if he's just rubber and metal, that should be good enough, shouldn't it?”
“You ain't never seen a blown tire get back up and work, have you? And the patches on a blown bicycle tire just kill it, make it wobble a little, like it's drunk. They fling the carcass over and use it. I know that they're different from Chief, but he's not just rubber and metal. I know he's not.” He pauses, as if he's finished, but then rushes on to kill any other form of conversation. “And anyways, it's besides the point. We have to get the senior center. That cabinet's about to go off and I gotta get the lid on the casserole before it cools down. You're coming, right? You promised.”
“Yes,” said Ruth.

I would happily accept this period of seriousness, or, at least, lesser comedy, were you to follow through with something that outdid the previous part in terms of amusement-value. But as it stands, this above part does its job a little mechanically, and we plummet further into uninteresting details:

“Ah, Chief. Your keyboards are magical,” gargles the old man in the wheelchair at the senior center. “I always knew Dance Hands could keep 'em between the ditches, but he's a wizard. That's all he is, Chief. A wizard.”

I assume things about this bizarre para of dialogue will be revealed later on. He says, ‘keyboards are magical’ and then ‘I always knew Dance Hands could keep ’em between the ditches’ – you know what association we make, right? That he’s saying that Dance Hands could keep the (magical) keyboards between the ditches. Whatever the heck does that mean?! (I apologise if my lack of slang knowledge is the reason for my confusion).

James stuffs his rising emotions back down into his throat and says,

Great line – ‘stuffs his rising emotions back down his throat’ – but. You’re switching character focus here. Why talk for a million or so paragraphs from Ruth’s perspective and then switch suddenly to James’? We’re already dislocated in time and place here from where we were before – why dislocate us further with narrative perspective?

Also, I am finding it difficult to pinpoint what I want from you in the following passage:

“Yeah, Zippy, you know where you can put that shit.” Zippy laughs and coughs and takes another bite of casserole. Ruth sits in a chair behind them and whenever the nurses wheel another old trucker in, she gets up to hand them a plastic spoon.
“Who's the new beaver?” Zippy asks, tilting his head toward Ruth.
“She's in Chief's attic. Her name is Ruth.”
“Looks like a Spoons to me.”
“Naw, Zippy. Don't bother.”
“What? The new girl can't get her own name? Something wrong with her, or what?” says Zippy, a little too loudly for James, and Ruth pays closer attention to the conversation, though she turns her head away to look at the window.
“Naw.”
“Then she's Spoons.”
“Okay.”
“Steve still planning on the operation?”
“Yeah, he is.”
“You still trying to convince everyone that it's a bad idea?”
“Of course I am. You don't think it's gonna kill him?”
“Listen, Handsy. I know you think that Chief is made of more than just rubber and metal, but that's all he's made of. That's all that tires have ever been made of. I'm not saying that's all they are, mind you, but when a human loses blood, he can use blood from someone else. It's gotta be the same for ol' Chief.”
“I don't think so,” says James. He pats Zippy on the back and sits in the chair across from Ruth.
“You're Spoons now,” he tells her.

The Spoons thing was mildly interesting. The conversation felt like a filler. A placeholder. I want more pruning. Maybe try deleting the whole lot, and writing the convo without quotation marks – just he told him that…she heard that… - and that’ll help you sort out the superfluous from the necessary.

Ruth sits in her car with the door cracked open so that a breeze billows in the door every few minutes. She's turned off the overhead lights so that she can sit in the fall night and just think. She wonders about mortality and what it means to be a human. She takes her wallet from her purse and slips the photograph of Harry out of the tear in the lining. She cradles it in her palm and kisses the corner of the silky surface. There is a plastic spoon on her dashboard. She looks at it and at the picture, and then out of the car at the stars as they dance over the quiet suburban neighborhood.

Heh, I know this is Galerius’ domain, but if I may use something Greek to describe how this feels to be, I’d say something of the downhill slide in Greek tragedy, anagnoresis. I don’t like the obviousness of ‘she wonders about mortality and what it means to be human’ – that’s pretty much the thought at the forefront of our minds while being amused by all this talk of tyres and immortality anyway. It does nothing here; we know she’s thinking that – we’re thinking that – so it’s a bit pointless. It’s in every action of hers, anyway.

I am getting a sense of who Harry might be, now. I like that – that gradual reveal. Obviously, I’ll expect to see more in the fourth part. And you are doing your tongue-in-cheek puns again – there’s a spoon on her dashboard. Somehow, though, this story has become very, very sad all of a sudden. A shift in emotion. There’s something so desperate and hopeless about wanting immortality – and the tyre just makes it sadder. Death is looming rather hard on this section of the tale.

I await you posting the fourth part…so I can review that as well.


Navita

Hey again! I think Navita has mentioned everything
I only got to say the plot is slowly unfolding and we are learning a bit more on what's going to happen. It's getting along really well. The writing and grammar is great and I'm hoping for part four soon!
Keep writing!

-Truth-

Hi Hannah!
Pink here :3

Nitpicks/ Comments

The type almost melts onto her skin like a temporary tattoo.

What do you mean by type?

Her tears are almost their catalyst

I also don't understand what you mean by saying her tears are catalyst.
Catalyst= Means, method, a medium or some sort of mechanism. (By what I know)
???

Then she feels a knock on the floor.

You can hear a knock, not feel it. Technically speaking.

. I guess I just wanted to make sure there wasn't no meat rotting up in the attic, if you know what I mean.”

*I guess I just wanted to make sure there wasn't any meat rotting...
Sounds better. Unless he's got some sort of accent or something.

“Yes,” replied Ruth.

This should be replies. I think this was just a tense slip up.

“Okay,” James says, taking a seat on one of the steps. “He's trying to find a way to make himself immortal.”

1. I think you overuse the word, 'says'. I would try varying up the sentences here so it doesn't feel like we're reading the same thing over and over again. Try broadening your writing, you have talent, I like the way you describe things but seems like the there's something holding you back for some reason. Maybe it's the overuse of certain words.
I think it might be the way you describe actions and such. They're quite simplistic, the words that you use. Says, laughs, smiles. I would recommend you use some body language to bring out some more description and emotion, plus it builds nicer imagery. I noticed this one you did:

Ruth imagined his beard expanding with his breath and his stomach expanding with his mirth.

This was a nice description and I liked the imagery here.

“Well, I mean, that's really all there is to say. We've got a friend from the working days that runs a scrap metal place, so Chief doesn't worry about that. He just wants to collect the rubber. Thinks that we can meld it to him, replace him piece by piece with patches, and he might get to go on living. Might even be able to start working again. The problem is, we don't really know how to go about it. It's a sore spot between us that I refuse to do the patches myself, even though I can. Never patched him when I drove him, and I don't know much about his kind. Don't know enough to know whether or not a patch will change him. Don't know how to tell when he's dying or when he's gone. He's a poor old guy, and I think it's a lot of strain to go through, trying to make yourself immortal. But I post his requests online every week, hoping to find someone that is understanding enough to help him out. They think we're crazy. I fucking hate people that don't know what they're talking about. Anyways, that's it.”

Fist of all, thank you! Now I finally get the little bit about the tire and what he wants and needs. Somehow, I feel the pieces of your little puzzle slowly being put together and I'm feeling slightly more comfortable in this world that you've built. Although, I'm still confused with the magic of it. When she steps outside of this house, does everything come to life as well? Are there more tires out there with thoughts and stuff? I want to know that.

“He just wants to patch himself up? Does it work that way? I mean, his metal: isn't that weak, too?”

That's exactly what I was thinking! XD

Ruth sits in her car with the door cracked open so that a breeze billows in the door every few minutes. She's turned off the overhead lights so that she can sit in the fall night and just think. She wonders about mortality and what it means to be a human. She takes her wallet from her purse and slips the photograph of Harry out of the tear in the lining. She cradles it in her palm and kisses the corner of the silky surface. There is a plastic spoon on her dashboard. She looks at it and at the picture, and then out of the car at the stars as they dance over the quiet suburban neighborhood.

Every sentence, except one, starts with 'She did this/that'.
Again, try varying your sentences so we get some sort of variation with your words.
If it was me, I would rewrite this entire paragraph as:

Ruth sits in her car with the door cracked open so that a breeze blows in every few minutes. With the overhead lights turned off, she takes the moment to sit and think, wondering about mortality and what it means to be human. Taking her wallet out from her purse, she slips the photograph of Harry out of the tear in the lining. Cradling it in her palm, she kisses the corner of the silky surface. There is a plastic spoon on the dashboard that catches her attention and her eyes go back and forth from the picture to the spoon. She looks out of the window of the car, seeing stars as they dance over the quiet suburban neighborhood.
That's not the best example but do you see what I mean? Just try using some different variations so it doesn't get boring to read.


Overall

After reading this part, the plot is slowly unfolding and it's becoming easier to understand and read. However, there are still so many questions that have. Mostly based on the world and the events that happened in the chapters before. But I'll save my bigger questions until I've completely read the entire thing, that way you don't need to hear certain questions that you might have already explained in the next chapter.
In this part, I'm glad you described what the tire wants and what he needs to do, or thinks he needs to do in order to become immortal. Why the tire wants that, I'm not exactly sure. I know there are character that crave immortality but it'd be nice if you provided a solid reason. You mentioned he wants to work again, to move again. But is that all?
I''m thinking of the tire as an elder. . .
The elderly person, being too old to walk and work efficiently would crave to be immortal, to be strong forever.
But what happens after immortality? Will he want to continue living? People need to die and I think that's where your story is headed but I'm not sure as of right now. With that said, I'll keep the rest of my comments to myself :3
Now, taking a closer look at your writing, I've noticed a few things. Mostly, there were small bumps that I've already stated before in the little nitpicking section there. I found this part to be less descriptive than your previous parts for some reason, I think it was because of the dialogue that seemed to be taking a lot of space. Anyways, I'm still questioning the characters here. They're still a bit 2D in my opinion and it would have been better if I knew them a little more, heard their thoughts a little more. I know you did a lot better with characterization in this part because I feel closer to Ruth.
James on the other hand is still tipsy for me, haha. I feel like he's still that kind of guy who gets angered easily. Maybe that's the way you wanted him to be, I don't know.
Well, that's all I have to mention right now, I'll have your next part done by tomorrow hopefully
Till then,

~Shear

Hey again!

Yes, you've done it. You have made James seem like a sweet and caring individual, but you can still see that he has a lot of passion for defending Chief whenever he can! It says it all right here:

I'm just scared shitless, if you want me to be honest about it.

Whatever you do, keep this line!

What I really like and admire about your writing is how realistic the dialogue is. Everything your characters said I thought to myself "I think I've said that before," or "I've heard that in a conversation before." The personalities of your characters don't come out in the text or narration you give, but in their dialogue. This is something that's hard to do. I know that I have to sit there and talk out a conversation to see if I'm doing it right.

The only things I didn't like about this chapter were:

1. The senior center. For one, why isn't Chief doing anything? To get a better understanding of Chief's character, which I hardly know except for how James says that he's very proud, having him interact with the seniors would be good. I realize that he can't say much, but there has to be some bit of personality that comes out in him. Also, the scene isn't very clear. I would like a bit more description about what the place looks like, what the seniors who are talking look like, and how Ruth is sitting. You mention once that she turns to look at the window, but I would like to know if it's a casual turn or if she had to turn her entire body away from them. It would help me understand her feelings on the scene because you don't really tell us. If he had her back turned to them, she would either be nervous or annoyed, but if it was just her head, she might feel awkward.

Also, at one point Chief is there, because a senior is talking to him, and another moment the seniors are talking about him and the operation as if they are talking 'behind his back.' Explain this please?

2. The end. This image is very unclear to me. She looks at the spoon, and the picture, and the sky? Is the spoon in the picture on the dash board? Is she talking about the sky in the picture? A little confused on this.

Plus, I'm not quite sure why you did this. You've already introduced Harry, and we can tell that there's some sort of used-to-be romantic thing about them. Why do you try to use the same cliffhanger twice? It's nearing the end of your story and I hope you are making enough time to explain the end, the reasoning behind her running away, and Harry all in one.

On to the next part!

Classy

Hi again.

“Are those them?”

This sentence is a little bit confusing. Are these your shoes? is maybe a more suitable sentence.

That's pretty much it, everyone else did them. Yay, we know a little bit about the characters! The tire is developping well, but what about Ruth? We don't know much about her... Is that coming in the next part? She's the MC after all, so we should know a few things about how she is. Which, right now, I can't tell you anything about how she acts... Not a good thing. This was great, as always.

Keep writing!

-Other One