More from Serpent Riddle... Ivan the Drunk :D Enjoy!

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Ivan was forever drunk. It was supposed that the malodorous, insane and imbecilic drunkard that had come with Ivan’s drink obsession had destroyed the once unruffled, motivated and supportive brother that Christie had known. He was one of the Grimstoners whom people stayed well clear of and harrumphed snide observations whenever he entered any public place. This meant that Ivan could stroll naked through the street and the people would fear him so avidly that no one would have the fortitude to rebuke him.
Therefore, as the people panicked at his presence, Ivan soon realised that he had the awe-inspiring power to have anyone do any favour for him. He was so overwhelmed by his tremendous authority and so he began to demand everyone around like his own personal slaves. At first this was superb as Ivan had Vinnie Belderbos pouring him free vodka, Gerald Smight, head teacher of Saint Grimston’s giving him a complimentary education and along with this Deacon, Tristan, Orson and Carter becoming his followers, but little did he know that they where only tagging along with him to look tough and supreme and possibly get a few useful favours done for themselves by gullible locals.
A month forth of his mighty revelation, Ivan had nearly the whole town kneeling down before him and no favour had ever been left unfinished. But, one day Ivan asked for something that was quite frankly beyond a favour. He asked for a job.
The man who he enquired was the owner of ‘We Knead Dough’ Grimston’s half-decent bakery, Jamie Hopton twin of Neil Hopton. Their shop always sent a delectable balmy scent into the polluted Grimston air and was always quite literally jam-packed to the edge with freshly baked cakes, bread, pies and pastries. Ivan being the self-loving man that he was took a fancy to seeing himself in a towering crisp-white baker’s hat with flour on his brow and so yes, when he was in the Howling Hog Inn and Jamie Hopton was present he asked him for a job.
Now, Jamie Hopton was amongst the few remaining well-educated and wise folk about Grimston. He was perfectly aware of the fact that Ivan Flinch was a trouble-maker, a scoundrel, a rascal, a good-for-nothing, pathetic, lying, cheating scallywag. He knew all about his ‘favours’. He also knew that he’d have a toad working in his shop before he had Ivan Flinch employed. And so as you can imagine Jamie refused Ivan’s ‘generous’ offer.
This certainly caused a stir in Grimston; in fact some people claim to still feel the ground tremble today. Ivan was so engrossed in his own pride that he had never even imagined that anyone would ever deny him. He was like a King in Grimston, a King whose servant had just betrayed him. To Jamie’s dismay Ivan was two heads taller than him and so it was remarkably easy for Ivan to knock him out with a single blow of one bulky hand. With Jamie lying unconscious and dribbling on the pub floor and Ivan flapping his lanky arms and bawling at every bystander, Vinnie Belderbos thought it best if he ended this customer-decreasing monstrosity.
By the time he was hauled out onto the pavement by Vinnie and the door was slammed shut in his face, Ivan was no longer angry with Jamie, in fact Jamie had shrunk to nothing more than a miniscule voice in the back of his head. Now it was Vinnie’s face that bulged in Ivan’s head and the fiery rage of revenge burned through his bones.
Ivan picked himself off the hard concrete and paced up and down the lane wheedling to himself, “I’ll kill that, louse! I’ll murder that weasel! I’ll slaughter him! I will! How dare he throw me out when I’m his most regular customer! The brute!” And then as quickly as Jamie had fallen to the ground, a plan sprang to Ivan’s sick mind. Vinnie had made Ivan’s body burn with a burning, scorching, blistering, sweltering, sizzling, flaming, hot displeasure. Ivan was going to the same thing to Vincent Belderbos, only on a much bigger scale.
Ivan waited. He waited until he was certain that the last customer had left the pub which was in fact Jamie Hopton with two plum-black eyes, no front teeth, an inflated inflammation upon his head and all sorts of other bruises and swellings across the shady stretch of his face. He waited until he saw the light adjust to complete darkness through the translucent window. He waited until he was positive that Vinnie was asleep with a glass of malted milk in his stomach.
Then Ivan acted. He carefully and mutely lit a blazing fire through the letter box of the Inn and ran home with a malevolence smirk on his mischievous face and petrol drenched across his hands.
Well, Ivan’s plan would have worked a treat if he had considered the following issue:
Ivan was oblivious to the fact that Vinnie’s bartender, Wally Crookson who was forgotten about on numerous occasions due to his tremendously miniature size, slept on the couch which was downstairs in the pub. Consequently, Crookson smelt the smoke, put out the fire and heehawed, “Thir, Thir, thomeone thtarted a fire!” in his high pitched, slurred voice, whilst tripping over his ever-growing black beard and rushing up the stairs to his ‘Thir’s’ room.
Ivan was deeply disappointed when he found out that his plan had failed, despondently. He would have had a second shot at it but he soon realised being an alcoholic that a pub with an infuriating owner was better than no pub at all.
The fire brings us back to the burgundy scar upon Ivan’s forehead. The people who knew about his attempt at arson consisted of the obvious, Orson, Carter, Tristan and Deacon along with Gerald Smight who happened to be walking by as he had realised that the main door of his school had been left unlocked (the caretaker was a very dim-witted chap) and had noticed Ivan’s face lit up by a flame. He hadn’t said anything to Ivan as he had given him a free education and was evidently one of the naïve villagers.
Anyhow, Ivan’s cronies presumed that the scar on Ivan’s forehead was a result of slapdash ‘playing’ with fire. Yet, Christie was aware that Ivan’s scar had appeared the night after the incident with the fire and so whenever she referred to it she named it the ‘secretive, sly or sneaky scar’.
Gerald Smight became aware of what Ivan’s actions could have caused and thus he went to the police and gave his evidence along with Vinnie Belderbos and Crookson.
We'd rather die with our bones of youth.




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Hi, I'm Maddy, and I'd like to give you a review of this.
He was perfectly aware of the fact that Ivan Flinch was a trouble-maker, a scoundrel, a rascal, a good-for-nothing, pathetic, lying, cheating scallywag. He knew all about his ‘favours’. He also knew that he’d have a toad working in his shop before he had Ivan Flinch employed. And so as you can imagine Jamie refused Ivan’s ‘generous’ offer.

AND
Vinnie had made Ivan’s body burn with a burning, scorching, blistering, sweltering, sizzling, flaming, hot displeasure.

I have to say this: slurring a handful of similar words together to make a description like this is the BIGGEST NO-NO. Never, ever go there.

Instead, you could take most of the words and re-word them to a few sentences. Something like this:
"Jamie, one of the few well-educated men in town, was well aware of the scumbag's antics and his pathetic 'favours'. He would put a toad over the ferral's life in a heartbeat. So you can easily imagine that when Ivan waltzed in his door, stupidly brimming with confidence, it was to the baker's great pleasure to refuse his 'generous offer'."
Something along the lines of that, yeah?

Another thing i've noticed is that you do far too much telling rather than showing. It's all "he did this, then that guy did this, and he is this, and he wanted to do this" There is no action, no dialogue, no incentive to read on. I took one look at this, and went "Oh god, info dump" It is imperative that you learn to give action. A reader can learn just as much, even more by giving action rather than info dumps.
-If at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you!
-"Careful with that light at the end of the tunnel, it might be another train coming."

This awesome post bought to you by me. :)




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Hi Maddy, Thank you for taking the time to review this.

You have mentioned that I 'tell the story' rather than 'show what's going on' and that I should use more dialogue, which I agree with. The problem is, I find that dialogue is one of my weakest points and that I find it very hard to make conversations flow. Someone else has reviewed another of my posts and mentioned this too.
If you have any tips for making my conversations between characters flow then I would really appreciate it.
Oh and about slurring loads of words with the same meaning together; I took a risk to try and emphasise the point and reading it back it seems unnecessary.

Thanks again, :D
Sophie
We'd rather die with our bones of youth.




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Hello,

Welcome to YWS, hope you'll love it here and will have a splending time! Remember to review others' works, too :) Haha I seriously had the title assosiated with Russian tsars.

_

At the very beginning, a Christie is mentioned. Then she dissapears and not one gnarled bone can be dug up for a very long time - no!! I'd scrap her character altogether.


quote:
This meant that Ivan could stroll naked through the street and the people would fear him so avidly that

clearly important for what's below - but then "harumphed snide comments" is a bit of a backstabber to this, no?

Hmm, alright. How about adding some details, descriptions of why exactly people would stay away (the smell, behavior). I would, on the other hands, keep the stacked adjectives in this case and in general (in this particular piece). Apart from the quote by the reviewer above - that's absolutely correct.


Grimston. Now it's understood that Grimston's a city - at second thought I thought it was surname, at first one I was baffled and didn't think anything at all. Unclear, that.


quote:
But, one day Ivan asked for something that was quite frankly beyond a favour. He asked for a job.

Commas tend to clod up the flow of a sentence - this one's better without (and if you read it out loud, it sounds better without a pause, no?). That's not why I quoted, though. Hilarious sentence :) Lovely.


quote:
Anyhow, Ivan’s cronies presumed that the scar on Ivan’s forehead was a result of slapdash ‘playing’ with fire. Yet, Christie

The same problem. Those commas not needed. Ah the elusive Christie.


quote:
A month forth of his mighty revelation, Ivan had nearly the whole town kneeling down before him and no favour had ever been left unfinished. But, one day Ivan asked for something that was quite frankly beyond a favour. He asked for a job.

Yeah. Quite possibly the best paragraph I've read in some time.


quote:
Ivan waited. He waited until he

Lovelyy (but then a person is "who", not "which"; consider splitting the rest of the sentence, it's much too long - drags, drags).


quote:
At first this was superb as Ivan had Vinnie Belderbos pouring him free vodka, Gerald Smight, head teacher of Saint Grimston’s giving him a complimentary education and along with this Deacon, Tristan, Orson and Carter becoming his followers, but little did he know that they where only tagging along with him to look tough and supreme and possibly get a few useful favours done for themselves by gullible locals.

This is one sentence. That black splotch on the horizon? That's me, fleeing and screaming my lungs out. Put a period somewhere, preferably before the mention of followers. I like twisting and meandering sentences, and these fit into this piece, but - mercy.


Mmm at some point direct speech to the reader was used (and quotes, I detested the quote - why use the quotes at all? I'm sure almost every reader would put an emphasis on that word on their own).

quote:
And so as you can imagine Jamie refused Ivan’s ‘generous’ offer.

Yes, I can imagine, but I dislike being told that I can. Personal opinion, I suppose, but I don't like being addressed - and if I'm not mistaken, this is the only place at which sthing like this happens.


quote:
only on a much bigger scale.

Words by themselves, maybe not - but as a phrase, it stands out as a part of narration. Complaint of the same nature goes ot below comment:

quote:
He carefully and mutely lit a blazing fire through the letter box of the Inn and ran home with a malevolence smirk on his mischievous face and petrol drenched across his hands.

Fish find oxygen under water - when above it, they die. I got used to and adores the style with which the story was becone and continued, and then bam, something like this. Pfft.

Hmmm. I enjoyed the beginning of this piece immensly. Alas the further on I got, the more of its shine it lost (well, a little bit - I'm prone to exaggeration, sometimes). Take Ivan's arsonist attempt, which description I may not have disliked, but was neutral to. Switzerland's not that good in writing, I'm sorry to say.

Crookson: fantastic characterization.

People like Crookson populated this story and are the reason why you get a "Like". Small-town feeling of everyone knowing everything about everybody - terrific, executed very nicely. Makes comments like Neil being a twin (ridiculous and useless in any other piece) work.

That's also the reason why I didn't feel any pain at the lack of dialogue. Didn't miss it, at all, and I think the story is bette rof without it.

Hmm. Well, is this the end? It feels like an end but really sin't an end. Unsatisfying because it begs a rounding, closing comment about Ivan - that he was, I don't know, locked up in jail for what he did, that he lost his followers and whatnot. A polar opposite to the beginning.

Ah! I just now read the "more" part. But I'm keeping the comment that it'd work fantastically as a short comment. If you ever get tired of this as a novel.


Very nice,
Esme




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Hello Esme,
Thank you so much for reviewing that! It's so nice to get a review that actually includes some praise as well as the critical stuff! :D
You mentioned that I included the mysterious Christie at the beginning of the piece. Christie is actually the main character in the novel and in the bit before the story of Ivan you do learn a lot about about her. But I do appreciate that it is quite confusing just introducing her at the beginning and then abandoning her.
Can I just ask you, I introduced a lot of characters in that piece and did it seem like too many to you?
Anyway, that's all really, thanks again, it's such a great feeling when someone likes your work!

-Sophie :)
We'd rather die with our bones of youth.



We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
— William Shakespeare