Young Writers Society

Of course I appreciate any review and help you can give me. This is the first time I've written anything like this. However this is very personal to me and the circumstances very fresh for me. So I just ask that you be kind. Thanks

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You once told me that family is the most important thing. That family is everything, that as long as we have each other nothing can break us.

I wonder if you remember that.

I wonder if you remember how happy we were. Did it torture you as it tortures me?

It was you and I against the world. There was no obstacle we couldn’t overcome together, no problem you couldn’t fix for me.

So why couldn’t you fix yourself?

Everyday I wondered who you would be. Would you be the twinkly eyed, funny, caring person I loved? Or would you be him?

Today you were him. Today you came into my room and I could smell it on you instantly. But I knew before that. I knew when the dog pushed into my room, head bowed, and tail between her legs.

I could hear the fighting downstairs.

I was hiding in my room, playing music and pretending I didn’t know what was happening. You couldn’t let me though. Why wouldn’t you let me hide in my world of pretend?

I heard the inevitable march up the stairs as you came to see if I was all right. I wonder if you really cared or just wanted me to make you feel better and reassure you that everything was as it should be.

You entered and I sat up, though I avoided eye contact. Perhaps in the hopes that you might not stay long, but you sat down on the bed next to me and I felt my heart sink.

Your hands were shaking as you patted the dog. She shied away, as though sensing that today you weren’t right. Then you looked at me for the longest time without saying a word. I didn’t look at you, I couldn’t.

You said you loved me. I didn’t respond. Today I didn’t love you.

We stayed silent for a while. I just petted the dog, happy for any distraction.

“Do you love me?” You asked, though your words were slurred.

I could feel the tears rising. You would always do this. You would prod me and goad me into saying something that would upset you, almost as if you wanted me to hurt you.

Today I decided to be honest. I figured you would forget by tomorrow, that’s how it would go, a vicious cycle of us hurting each other over and over.

“I miss you.”

You began to cry and tried to touch my hand but I moved it away.

“I’m right here.”

“It’s not you today.”

“I love you, baby.”

I felt a tear run down my cheek and hastened to wipe it away. You always called me your baby, your little girl, but after so many times it started to lose meaning.

Yes the alcohol doesn’t make you violent like it does to so many others, but there are other ways to abuse your family. Ways that don’t leave marks on the skin. I was tired. Tired of the endless cycle of wondering who you would be today, what you would do next.

You systematically destroyed our lives by only thinking about yourself and your pain.

It’s as though the drink possessed you and sucked away everything that made you special. It sucked away your life.

Sometimes I would wish you had died back then in the hospital. I know it sounds horrible but at least I could’ve remembered you the way you were and not as the man who sat with me on the bed today.

Today.

Today was the day you died.

I guess your body couldn’t take the abuse anymore. You died in my arms.

And now as I look down at your face, I see you. Now it is you.

I smile, lean down and whisper into your ear. “It’s OK Daddy. I love you. You’re free now.”

Hi Becki!

First off, this is quite a relative story. One that is apparent and valid in everyday life, wherever you care to look. The step-by-step style isn't really my cup of tea personally, but I can appreciate why you have used it, and how you have achieved it. Solid punctuation keeps a slow pace throughout, and leaves the reader dwelling upon each thought, idea, emotion.

beckiw wrote:You said you loved me. I didn’t respond.(;) Today I didn’t love you.

That is the only grammatical flaw I feel is significant. Possible solution to flow, shown in red.

The ending was slightly surprising, as I had no indication this was the father who died (/me personally thought it was the boyfriend!). Was it at the time of the other events you portray?

Very nice, Becki. I look forward to reading more!
~Elder.

Like Meme (Mimmi) I've read a load of stories like this, but never in this form. I think the form of writing enhances the piece, simply because it manages to maintain a childlike voice -easy to read, simple language, yet emotionally provoking- and get the message across.

“It’s OK Daddy. I love you. You’re free now.”

Clichéd ending, but it was kind of needed.

My tiny -microscopic sized- nitpick is that the dialogue is a little strange. She talks too old -like you'd expect the mother to talk- and it contrasts with the child who was playing the music to drown out the fighting. On the other hand I like the fact that you keep the reader thinking even after they've read this. Will this happen tomorrow night? etc

Hope this helped -although I doubt it-

Anger.

Wow, to be honest, I almost cried.

Because this is a little personal for me too. My dad drinks, but he's not that into. He just gets angry....

Anyway.

Really nothing to nitpick except I noticed some sentences that could be joined together, unless the short blunt ones at the end were what you were going for.

Overall, a gripping, heartfelt story. I enjoyed it.

<3 Meg

Hi, Bex! Here per your request, and remember: I love you, and you promised not to hate me!

So, my issue isn't with your writing so much as your lack of writing - that doesn't quite make sense, does it? For what you're trying to convey, I don't think you have enough to be effective. You have lots of telling, and I can literally see how this would play out on a screen, but I don't feel emotion behind your words. This reads more like an outline to me than a fleshed out story, and I'd rather read the story, quite frankly. What you have makes me want to read more, but there isn't more!

That said! I love your opening. So, so much. Keep it. Actually, I was thinking (if you don't mind me butting in, here) - you could use that as a frame for the rest of this. Start with that. Give an episode or two, then commentary, a la what you have in your outline - direct thoughts from your narrator. Sort of like a voice-over in a movie - showing flashbacks intro'ed by the present day narrator. You have almost started doing this, actually - with the one incident you do give - keep that, or something similar. I would suggest framing it a bit more, and then using that frame to enable you to really tell (er, show. Bad choice of words on my part) this story, rather than relying on your narrator telling us as an audience what the situation is like. I'd rather see some of those stresses than only hear about them - at least from a literary standpoint. From a personal one, however - I'm not sure how much you're comfortable relating. Regardless, if your intent is to convey emotion and really make a reader feel and empathize, you need to do more than just tell -at least in my book.

As for the ending - I have no problem with it at all. I just need to be convinced why it's so important to the narrator, especially in her choice of words. You've started on love and being two different people, so expand on that! You have all the tools to work with, here, you just have to use them/use them more effectively!

Finally, this reads as an overview for a film/an outline like I've said above - you have these images I really want to feel and see you express fully in words - like the music playing. That is so intense of an image, but it's not done justice! I'm not really sure how to suggest you write such a scene, but I know you have the image in your mind, so work with it! Give me more than just a direction to think in, I want you to literally walk me through the scene - not just tell it to me. In essence, to answer the questions you asked me - Yes, I think this is too abrupt; and no, I don't think the ending is a cop-out yet, but you have to really make me feel the emotion more from these characters before I can fully stand behind you on it.

Er, I've rambled a fair bit, so I hope this is coherent and at least a bit helpful!

<3

Bek

Bex. Okay.

I got about halfway through this and got madly distracted elsewhere; however, I’m going to go expand a little on what Meshy said above and try to give you some tougher points to polish before the deadline. I’m sorry it took so long to usher this to you, but if we’re online at the same time tomorrow, I’ll try and help you more as to the best of my ability. Now:

Your soliloquy in the beginning gives me an idea that deserves some context—understand that a group of lines like this (“You once told…would you be him?”) belongs in a scene that dictates a mood. Would she stand over her father’s casket as she says this? Speak to a photograph? While I understand that this is a mental homage, it just seems to be missing something. The issue with connecting a scene of context comes with sentence twelve: “Today you were him.” Side-note: keep the anaphora between the “I wonder” sentences. It’s wonderful for your flow.

That makes the entry work, though it still feels as though it doesn’t click, though it may. I’m not that fond of your contradiction between “I could smell it on you instantly, but I already knew because of the dog.” While the dog works as an indicator, one of these could go. Preferably the first, because you’re telling the reader what happens before it actually happens, and I’m not that keen on that technique.

When you hit your section:

I was hiding in my room, playing music and pretending I didn’t know what was happening. You couldn’t let me though. Why wouldn’t you let me hide in my world of pretend?

you get a tad bit dramatic. I think it’s the last sentence about the pretend world. It just comes off a bit Evanescence-sad, if that makes sense. Also, when the pretend world sentence is taken out, your flow to the next segment improves.

I was hiding in my room, playing music and pretending I didn’t know what was happening. You couldn’t let me though.
I heard the inevitable march up the stairs as you came to see if I was all right.

Here—here is where a drastic change of tone should take place. His presence should make things so tense, so gripping that the reader can hardly breathe. You graze onto this point, but don’t deliver the crushing impact that I know you can. Try changing some neutral verbs such as “entered,” “avoided,” and “looked.” Specific word choice works wonders for your tone, so don’t get scarce on the mood-setting.

We stayed silent for a while. I just petted the dog, happy for any distraction.

While happy is accurate, it fights against the tone; she wasn’t at all happy, was she?

a vicious cycle of us hurting each other over and over.

Yesssss.

But then we hit a point at which you gain so much momentum, so much driving force towards the end that it feels rushed—something I wish you’d avoid because this really is great, and I want more. Try adding in at least one detail about how he died. Spasming? Clutching his heart?

Maybe it’s just the abrupt ending that gives me this feeling of being rushed, which gives me an idea.

The monologue in the beginning, the one I loved—try flowing into a similar segment in the end, a reflection of freedom. See, doing that would do two things:

1.) Fit the story into context.
2.) Smooth out the ending.

Do you agree?

I wish I could have been of more help, Bex, but this is all I have. I really do wish you the bestest best of best luck in submitting to the journal. Let me know if you have any questions or need anything.

*tags*

-Lumi