Young Writers Society

There is a particular road in Festac, a peculiar road in Festac. It is called Third Avenue.

It is divided into three lanes, the peculiar one being the one in the middle. It is flanked by two wide and deep gutters which separate it from the lanes to its left and right.

These gutters are strange. Strange in that, despite the low walls built to keep cars out, despite the lack of any curves or sharp bends that may cleverly bemuse a driver and trick him into their deep crevices, at least once every month or two one would pass by that way to see such a driver, his car upended in the treacherous gutter, a crowd of jobless onlookers huddled around.

It took me a long time to understand how that driver, indeed how anyone, could fall into the clutches of such an overt trap.

The day I understood, it was a Thursday I believe. I walked to school that day, the wind blew but it was in pretence, the sun was ablaze. Yet we were supposedly in the midst of the rainy season. The weather seemed to me the very embodiment of Nigeria, she was ever unsure. Left she dashes when she comes to a fork in the road, but wait, she wheels around and turns right. And then left. And then she stops. When will she make her decision? When the race is finished?

I walked through the marketplace, where a group of young men were in hot pursuit of a thief, who in fact turned out to be, upon capture, a madman. Left to his own devices, he crouched in the corner of a market stall, growling and foaming at the mouth. A rat scuttled past him, he snatched it from the ground and stuffed it, alive and writhing, into his mouth. I looked away.

Further down the path, two women were fighting outside their stalls. Their hair was wild and their clothes dishevelled as they clawed at each other’s faces. There was a fair-sized crowd watching them both, but not a single soul moved to stop the fight. I stopped walking to watch too, but a businessman, immaculately dressed in clothes that were both too big and too small for him, clutching a brown briefcase that looked vaguely brand-new, said to me, “Shouldn’t you be in school?” and then turned back to watch the fight. I turned away and a mist came over my vision and then it cleared. I saw spirits and ghosts, demons and angels. A tiny homunculus balanced on the head of the businessman, teetering and wobbling atop a bump in his bald head. It smiled at me.

An angel was flying down from heaven. Slowly. His wings were not those of a dove, but wide and unsymmetrical and leathery, like that of a bat’s. His face was fearsome, and did not resemble anything of this earth. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t; he was beautiful, fiercely, terribly beautiful in the ephemeral way of higher beings. He came down behind one of the women, he held her hands as the other woman struck her in the chest, he pulled her soul free of the vessel of her body as it fell back. I looked at the woman’s soul, I saw that she was young; her hair was tidy and no longer dishevelled. The angel kissed her gently on the forehead and I watched her fade away.

The other woman was screaming, looking at her hands. The crowd (which had grown far bigger) was shouting, they surrounded her. People ran off in all directions, they came back with wood, matches. The businessman’s briefcase was wrenched free of his hold. The homunculus flew away.

A spirit in the shape of a rat came and stood next to me.

There was a great roar, and a fire erupted in the midst of the crowd, they stepped back.

I saw the other woman in the pyre, I saw her body. Her soul stood beside the angel. He kissed her on the forehead and she too faded away. Israfael watched the pyre, and then he looked to me.

Far down the market place, I heard the death knell of guns, I heard people screaming. “SOLDIERS!” someone shouted. The crowd began to scream and shout; they began to run. The rat disappeared; a boy took its place. He took my hand and led me through the mayhem to an abandoned stall; he closed the door behind us.

I looked out through the broken shutters of the only window, I heard screaming and gunfire still. The spirit watched me silently.

A long time elapsed before all was quiet. And then I heard the crunching of boots on stone, I saw a soldier, gun cocked, walking down the street. He was looking about him, but I didn’t move from the window. He saw me and he stopped. My heartbeat accelerated, and the spirit peered at me peculiarly. I felt him touch my cheek, and then he stared at his hands in confusion.

The soldier pointed his gun at me, at my head. He pulled the trigger and the world slowed down. It was no longer a bullet heading towards me, but a ball of blue fire.

I do not know how I knew it belonged to him, but the madman’s voice rang out in my head:



The spirit boy touched my hand, and I saw him for who he was, Israfael, angel of death. The contact sent fire through me; it cooled and turned to ice as the ball of fire came ever closer, until all I could see was its magnificent light. Pain coursed through me, exploding from a single point as the fire kissed my forehead, and then it was gone as Israfael pulled me away, we walked into the light.

I requested of him one last thing, and he took me to That Road. A single car sped down it in the broad daylight, much faster than need be. I thought I knew what he saw.

Did he see the angels and the demons? The ghosts and the spirits? Was the homunculus sitting on his dashboard, nodding its head to the beat of the radio? Did he see Israfael coming down, for he like his master is omnipresent. Was the road on which he drove not at all a road but an endless path; did the fire rage towards him? Yes, I knew, all these things he would see. And he would swerve to avoid it all, to get away from what he did not understand. And then the illusion would clear, and he would be falling into the gutter, but then Israfael would be beside him. He would take his hand and lead him away from the crash, from the chaos of impact.

I'm very much a fan of your writing because of this. You'll notice that I 'liked' this and that I am now following you. Okay, so let's review:

While I will admit that this was a bit slow in the beginning, I admire the reason why it is--establishing a parallel. Don't change it very much because it pays off in the end. In fact, the beginning style reminded me very much of Cormac McCarthy's The Road: aimless and cold.

The style that hooked me in this story--and I hope this was intentional--is that gradual increasing detachment that pries apart the reader from the main character, but slowly. And eventually, even though we're in first-person, it feels as if we're watching from behind as the main character holds the hand of the spirit boy. Love it. Absolutely. A couple of things, however:

I saw the other woman in the pyre, I saw her body. Her soul stood beside the angel. He, Israfael, angel of death, kissed her on the forehead and she too faded away. Israfael watched the pyre, and then he looked to me.

I would not reveal the angel of death as who he is just yet. It felt much colder when he was the unnamed angel. Try it out either way and see which you like best. What I noticed was, later on in the story, you reveal the angel as the boy. And I like the idea of waiting--so see how that tastes to you.

Tide may come and tide may go
Lightning strike and return
But when all is finished, said and done
Who are we, What to be and Where to go?
And in that very end of days
Why should we fear Death’s sweet embrace
The last a man shall ever know?

The structuring of this as a poem works much better than as separate lines of text. Merely a formatting difference, but it changes the entire feel. Betters the flow. So on, so forth. If you're unfamiliar with formatting, just remove the extra lines, hit [i] up at the top and you're golden.

Those two things are the only nit-picks I have. I absolutely loved this, Tiger! Keep on writing and keep me posted as more rolls in.

-Lumiface

I didn't think it started slow at all, myself. The mystique of the third lane captured me right away, and the strange events unfolding after that point only strengthened the immersion (to the point that I felt as though I was there). Now, usually, this would simply turn a good piece into a great piece, but in the strange world that you show it served better, allowing the reader to experience it so much more intimately.

That being said, I will admit that I do not entirely understand the story. To me it almost seems like an E. E. Cummings poem - a ride through a fantastic fairyland at the first glance, but with depth if the piece is to be analyzed thoroughly. Your mastery of the first person certainly makes it quite the ride, and I liked it for that - but if there is a meaning to see here beyond the simple "do not fear death", I would have preferred it to be more obvious.

I liked this work, I liked it a lot. It could work perfectly well without an underlying point, but the presence of it made reading the story much more enjoyable. I look forward to seeing more of your work.

Heya

I'm here to review as requested! I apologise if I repeat anything that's already been said. I'll try not to do so unless I think it's entirely necessary. I'll start off with any nit-picks that I have for you. Hopefully, there won't be too many.

There is a particular road in Festac, a peculiar road in Festac. It is called Third Avenue. - There is a particular road in Festac, a peculiar one. It is called Third Avenue

This could shape up to be a great opening line. You have the hook thing down pretty well. The problem is that the repetition in it sounds a bit awkward to me, so I'd suggest for you to edit it to something like I've shown. You don't have t edit it much at all, just take out the odd word here and there. This is all a suggestion though. Technically, you don't have to change it, but I would advise it.

It is divided into three lanes, the peculiar one being the one in the middle. It is flanked by two wide and deep gutters which separate it from the lanes to its left and right.

Sorry for sounding stupidly picky, but these two sentences started the same, as well as the last one in the opening line. Try varying the beginnings of your sentences a bit.

These gutters are strange. Strange in that, despite the low walls built to keep cars out, despite the lack of any curves or sharp bends that may cleverly bemuse a driver and trick him into their deep crevices, at least once every month or two one would pass by that way to see such a driver, his car upended in the treacherous gutter, a crowd of jobless onlookers huddled around.

Although your description is really great and vivid, it's awfully long for one sentence. Try splitting them up into different sentences.

The day I understood, it was a Thursday, I believe.

I walked to school that day and the wind blew, but it was in pretence; the sun was ablaze.

A rat scuttled past him. He snatched it from the ground and stuffed it, alive and writhing, into his mouth. I looked away.

I stopped walking to watch too, but a businessman, immaculately dressed in clothes that were both too big and too small for him, clutching a brown briefcase that looked vaguely brand-new, said to me, “shouldn’t you be in school?” and then turned back to watch the fight.

I've noticed that a few of your sentences are kind of long. A lot of the time, there's about three sentences in an entire paragraph. You should consider shortening a few of them.

I turned away, a mist came over my vision and then it cleared.

He came down behind one of the women and he held her hands as the other woman struck her in the chest. He pulled her soul free of the vessel of her body as it fell back. I looked at the woman’s soul, I saw that she was young; her hair was tidy and no longer dishevelled. The angel kissed her gently on the forehead and I watched her fade away.

Did you mean to write her here? Or him? I thought it was him, but I wasn't sure. I'm probably wrong.. If so, just ignore me. Also, I shortened a sentence here. xD

A spirit in the shape of a rat came and stood next to me.

Is your MC hammered...?

A long time elapsed before all was quiet. And then I heard the crunching of boots on stone. I saw a soldier, gun cocked, walking down the street.

Pain coursed through me, exploding from a single point as the fire kissed my forehead, and then it was gone as Israfael pulled me away. We walked into the light.

Overall

This was certainly a very interesting piece. I adored some of your descriptions, I really did. They were vivid, interesting and certainly original. It's rare to find stories full of great descriptions like this, and it's nice to have read one. I am as dumb as hell when it comes to figuring out stories, so that's a bit of an issue for me in this. I have to admit, I'm not sure what this is actually about. Nonetheless, it's an extremely well written story. I agree with what DEin said about this being similar in a way to E. E. Cummings style. Whether that's a good or a bad thing is a matter of opinion. I personally think of it as a good thing. What I love about this is that, in a way, you could say that it's a Marmite piece of writing. You could either say that it's amazing, or just say that you don't get it. It makes the piece as a whole more interesting and exciting.

My main critique for you is the fact that, at times, this is rather confusing. You could argue that this aspect's actually a good thing. I would suggest making a few details more clear though. Like I said before, I'm really bad at stories that involve thinking, so you need to make sure that people like me can understand everything that you're trying to explain and describe. I can tell that you're a really good writer. Therefore, I can say with full confidence that you're capable of keeping the style of the story, but making it that tiny bit simpler for some people to understand. What I'd suggest is pretty simple to do. You should read over the story, notice any parts that are vaguer than others, and basically describe those bits in a bit more detail. As a whole though, I don't want you to make it that much simpler. I like a story that makes you think.

The only nit-pick I have for you is that I often noticed you using very long sentences. You also placed commas in areas where you should have either started a new sentence or simply replaced it with an and. The reason I'm especially bringing this up is because I find that long sentences can actually sometimes make a story that little bit harder to follow. Hence, it can create some confusion. Sorting out the long sentences could also make things a bit easier to understand. Also, it's never a good idea to only have a few sentences in a paragraph, unless it's purposely a one line paragraph or something. Negatives aside, this really is a very well written story.

Keep writing,

xoxo Skins

*likes*

Hmm... This does seem a little slow, and I think it’s because there’s a fair bit of repetition, both in the information you give your readers and your choice of language and techniques used. Think of each way you write as using a power up. The more you use it the less effective it is and the less interesting it becomes.

Gutter strange peculiar – you use the same technique to introduce these idea. Variation is the key to attention.
Your style is quite colloquial which isn’t a bad thing although some colloquial techniques only really work when you’re actually speaking.

‘There is a particular road in Festac, a peculiar road in Festac.’
This form of repetition only slows down the piece – it sounds more dramatic than it actually is, as if you were thinking more about how it sounds than what it’s saying. Think about why you used this technique, what effect you were going for and if that was achieved. What does it even mean?

You’ve also used particular as a vague adjective - without more context there’s no meaning. If you’re wondering why, its because of the reiteration from the clause you’ve added. It would be much more effective if you finished the sentence normally, explaining why it’s particular or why you’ve pointed it out as particular. It may seem like I’m rambling but these are ideas that once you’re aware of, you can avoid later.

Wide and deep – Always better to find a specific adjective that can cater for both your needs. But is it necessary?

The description of these roads and gutters is very specific. Sometimes it’s better to compromise with the imagination so that you can add strength and depth to the image in your readers minds, where at the moment I felt it was detailed yet flat. Like saying someone’s lanky is better than giving their dimensions.

With all that I’ve said, I felt that you could turn your first four paragraphs into two. Halve the words but say more with less, and therefore you’ll pick up the pace (just a little as your gradual pace increasing alongside the tone adds tension very nicely).

Overt trap – Something about this reads awkwardly to me, maybe it’s the connotation of overt and covert. I may be on my own with this one, but I felt blatant would work better. Let me know if you disagree or want to know why.
turned out to be, upon capture, a madman – This is becoming your trademark technique. Very overused. Give it a read through and if you don’t understand why I keep saying this then I’ll be happy to explain it further.

Ah, I’ve run out of time but I’ve enjoyed reading so far. Let me know if you found my review helpful and if you want me to continue. Otherwise, good luck with your writing.

Woah, this is really very cool.

At first I really thought it was odd. It seemed to make absolutely no sense - well, at least not in my head anyway. But then I read on, and this is actually really cool.

I loved the ending - even though they die... - but I like it because it brings an end to the confusion, I finally understand.

And although I was confused for most of it, I really liked the way you wrote it, the way at the end he understands and we understand, it makes me really be able to connect with the character and I really like that about it. However, I do think you could work a little on the way your sentences flow, the story seemed a little forced, and a little to descriptive, and then not not descriptive enough.

Maybe you could read through and add some more 'real' things to the story, to bring a little clearness to it - so that the reader can easier distinguish between whats "normal", and what's not.

Anyway, this is a really cool quirky piece, keep writing.

~Mo.

Incredible story! You have an amazing view on things. The way you made every something in the story become something so much more, like how the rat became, the boy that helped you, then the boy became the angel of death! It's amazing. =D
...However there was a few mistakes that stuck out like a sore thumb, but not to worry they are common mistakes made by evened the Best of writers.

First; the beginning... I understand the importance of placing details in a story. However beginnings are very sensitive to detail, especially if the beginning starts with a place(

TIGERSPRITE wrote:THIRD AVENUE

), and not a character. Please don't get me wrong, it's fine to start with a place...But in the beginning, of any story, readers are asking "whats the story mostly about?" "What or who should I be paying the most attention to?". You placed a little too much detail in your beginning. It gives the reader the ideal that the story more so about the road itself and not of what happens on the road.
But not to worry, again, this can be fixed.It calls for you to go back over the begining, but Don't rewrite it! You should see if you could cut some of the details or shorten some of the sentence. This will allow you to still keep some of the detail, but also shorten the begining so that the readers will see that it's more about what happen on the road not the road.

Next; the use of (,)s...your story is amazing, but you use a lot of (,) were you shouldn't. Like...

TIGERSPRITE wrote:I walked through the marketplace, where a group of young men were in hot pursuit of a thief, who in fact turned out to be, upon capture, a madman.

. You placed too many subsidiary phrases without completing what you started with. Believe me it a pain in the but to have to go over and fix these type of sentence, but if you ever wish to have you work noticed by a publisher then you might consider fixing it. Good prose is one of the key elements to use to be notice as a real writer and not an just one of the names in the reject pile.

As I've said be for you story here is awesome. after the begining to takes on a life of it's own and it just blows the readers mind away. You should write more stories like this. =)
Keep up the good work ~Pro.

P.S. have any question PM me and Thanks again 4 all you help!

As promised, I'm gonna give you a review.

Okay, I really don't feel like nitpicking. Your style is great really, Tiggie. O_o I like the way you use run-on sentences, phrases and clauses.

Run ons like this, were great:

He came down behind one of the women, he held her hands as the other woman struck her in the chest, he pulled her soul free of the vessel of her body as it fell back.

I believe you know enough (as one of the greatest young grammar freak I know) to experiment with style.

Though as I read your work right now, (I'm at the middle), I think there are times you're overusing them...

I feel like nitpicking now. (LOL)

A rat scuttled past him, he snatched it from the ground and stuffed it, alive and writhing, into his mouth.

>> I don't think this run on is appealing much.

I turned away and a mist came over my vision and then it cleared.

>> I feel like you were wanting a dramatic effect here, but to me it didn't work much. The and's were too distracting. I think you should put a punctuation somewhere there, a comma.

I looked out through the broken shutters of the only window, I heard screaming and gunfire still.

>> This is another run on that I feel like it should be instead two separate sentences. Or maybe put a "where" between the comma and I.

But overall

...this was great! Unbelievable style, Tiggie. It was short, still dramatic. You rock, girl! I hope you get in.

Keep writing!

~ Jash ♥

This was so cool! *liked

Anyway, your style really is detached and queer, which is so cool. Only a few people can really pull this off without making it dry, but people like you who do really make it work on so many levels. This was, in one word, awesome.
I know this wasn't a helpful review...you've gotten some great nitpicks by now anyway that I guess it doesn't matter.
Keep writing,
StoryWeaver

Wow this was really good. I loved how your story felt so calm and so strange at the same time. I loved the description you gave to each chacrter in this story: the business man and his suit, the madman, the fighting ladies. It brought layers to the story and an element of reality. Overall you have written a fantastic stroy. wow.