Young Writers Society

AN: So, ahem. I entered a lovely contest hosted by Azila and have finished my entry already. Yeah. The dead-line is June 1st. I may possibly be golden. Anyway, the prompt and element were 'urban' and '500 words'. So I wrote an urban fantasy piece of exactly 500 words. So, yes, peeps--feel free to tell me what you think and such or inform me my late-night math skills are horrid and Google Docs lied and it isn't exactly 500 words.

Anyhow, I also have to say before anyone flips out: I dearly hope I am not being an uppity git, but feel free to call me out if I am. I lived on the street I based Trevor's street off for two years on a little off-shoot past my world's version of the church (which burnt to the ground recently). I'm telling it like it is and somewhat projecting my feelings of being a dangerous escaped circus tiger to the people who never exactly learnt how to deal with my presence. However, Trevor is not me in the way I'm totes not fawesome enough to be a monster exterminator and I'd probably get the longer sentence at the sanitarium. Among other things.

NOTE: This has been edited. You can still read the original version below, however. Thanks guys for helping me out with this!

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HANGING

Trev watched the people moving past with unease; eyes tracking them. He played with the zipper on his hoodie, even as his hair stood on end under its sleeves. He was sitting in a cold spot, one of those things only he seemed to notice.
East Street, with its garbage-filled run-offs and graffiti-decked buildings, couldn’t cheer him at the moment. The Gothic church at the end of the road even made him feel panicky.
There wasn’t a sane reason for that. He was used to this. He was used to the women in too-tight pants going to shop at the Pig or ‘get their hair did.’ He was used to seeing men wearing double shorts--heck, there were two jaywalking with toddlers. He was used to the artsy weirdos with their ‘understanding nature.’ He was used to the families with children living in fear of downtown’s human monsters.
He sighed, rubbed his face with the heels of his hands.
This place shouldn’t scare him. It was home. Of course, his home town had suddenly become his place of work, but--well, drug lords put up with that, didn’t they?
He just had to get better at lying. Not that he hadn’t been already. When he left for a random weekend, he couldn’t very well tell his granny that he was off to annihilate monsters, could he?
This was the sort of job that did a person in--and the sort of job where you had no one to look to.
Perhaps that was because no one else saw what he did, which was either really bad oh Lord I’m mental or really good they don’t have to be scared, too. He hadn’t decided yet.
He jumped when a hand landed on his knee; recoiled. He turned saucer-wide eyes on--Love. She was carrying two Fantas and holding out one for him.
He took the drink, uneasiness making his movements jerky.
“You looked a little lost,” she said.
He shrugged. “Am.”
“What?”
“I am a little lost.”
He popped open the soda and took a long drink.
“I don’t understand how you like those,” Love said, sitting down on the curb beside him.
He sighed, looked back across the street. There it was--a black form, almost shapeless.
Love didn’t even notice it, notice it as it crossed the street and went into an alley only a few blocks down. A car shrieked to a halt as it passed.
“I have to go.” He stood up.
“Why?” Concern.
Why did she have to be concerned?
“You can tell me,” she added.
He flinched. “Yeah, but I hate straitjackets.”
Something about that kept her from following. Success?
Wait, no, she was following. Noisily. He stopped, turned.
“You cannot come.”
“You’re worrying me.”
He laughed, couldn’t help himself.
“Your obliviousness worries me!”
She leaned back.
This time she let him go.
He didn’t find anything. Monsters--always destroying him, his life. But that was their point, wasn’t it?

#

Original Version:

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So, yes. There you have it. I'm not sure whether or not it's a wonderful short story, but it's difficult to work with five hundred words and someone as moody as Trev. Anyway, I think I did fairly well. Thoughts?

Lastly, flames will be used to make s'mores and fuel pyromania.

Good story! I'd like to read more about these characters and this setting!

Hey Cspr!

So I liked the setting of this story, this dark, urban, gritty feel really appeals to me. I really got a sense of the atmosphere and mood, I feel like it's the kind of place where back-door deals are made and money exchanges hands, an underbelly of the city of sorts. Juxtaposed with a traditional Gothic church watching over the whole scene, the irony and metaphor there is just wonderful.

That said, to be honest, I didn't really get anything from this piece. It didn't pack that much of a punch. It's a nice little flash, but there's nothing bigger there. What do you want your readers to get from this piece? What's the take away? I think most of the problem stems from your MC. I didn't really get a sense of who he was, what makes him tick, his point of view etc. For example, he is nervous in the beginning of the piece, which creates a kind of tension that I really enjoyed, but by the end of the piece, we really don't have even a hint as to why he feels so panicked. It kind leaves me going "huh?"

That leads into my other suggestion. It seems that this piece has many different pieces: your MC, the monsters, the setting, poverty, Love. Which are all fine on there own, but they don't really come together to form a complete, cohesive whole by the end of the story. 500 words is pretty short, and all these different parts are a lot to cover. As a result, your piece seems a little disconnected and incomplete. I would try and focus your piece on one or maybe two of these ideas. Right now, I think your trying to do to much. So if you want to focus on the monsters and how they relate to your MC, do that. I would omit the bit with Love then. If you want to focus on the relationship with Love in this gritty type setting, I might omit the monsters. If you want to focus on your MC's situation within the setting, I would omit Love and the monsters. Does that make sense? With a more focused goal of sorts, I think this piece could be really good. I use the the monsters as an example below, but your really could go anywhere with this.

I assume fighting monsters is a big part of your MC's life. In fact, I think that's a rather interesting part. However, it is barely mentioned, added as if it's after thought. Like what? Your MC fights monsters? That is so COOL! I want to know more. The idea needs to be flushed out. What type of monsters? How does it effect your MC's life? However, to answer these questions adequately in 500 words, you'll have to get rid of some other elements.

So those are the big things I noticed. I adored the setting, awesome. Hope it helped. If you decide to edit this, mind letting me know? I would love to see where you go with it! If you have any comments or questions, feel free to PM me.

Thanks for the read,
Audrey

Why, hello there!

Yeah, seconding what Audrey said, this story sort of feels like it lacks cohesion. Try focusing on one aspect of it. You've got the setting itself, the monster hunting, the relationship between the characters... oodles of stuff. This could make a fascinating longer story, but you're working with a strict limit here. Tighten it up a little and you free up more words to spend on the element of your choosing. Take a single moment and expand on it.

Just a few quick nitpicks that demand my attention:

and fear continued to grip him

This felt sort of weak because of the verb usage. Maybe change it to "fear gripped him"? It just feels much more immediate, adding a little punch.

get their hair did

"done"?

I did like this. It was filled with so much potential it made me itch. But that potential is kind of floundering around. The story feels like its just beginning to kick off, taking a deep breath and bracing itself, rather than coming to a head about anything. But I did like it.

Feel free to PM me!

~GryphonFledgling

Hey

His fingers fiddled with his zipper and fear continued to grip him,

Zipper on his jacket, I'm assuming?

Under the sleeves of his hoodie, his hair stood on end.

I've never really had my arm hair stand up when I got scared.

Even the natural setting of East Street, with its garbage-filled run-offs and graffiti-decked buildings couldn’t cheer him

Unless this is sarcastic, it doesn't make much sense.

get their hair did.

lol 'done' xD

He figured he was just scared because it was just job to annihilate monsters of all sorts.

You say 'just' a lot in this sentence. Try to edit that out.

Love was a good role-model, sure, but she thought he was on drugs or being abused or something.

It took me a while to realize that 'Love' was a name x)

She was there to--

To what?

He smiled at her, trying to mask his unease,‘course, and took in the fact she was holding two Fantas.

He grinned a bit more naturally at that, but what was going to happen still hung over him like a particularly nasty storm cloud, one of those that hung black and green at the horizon, some mishapped bruise.

I kind of wish your sentences had a bit more structure, and didn't sound quite so much like street-language.
He grinned a bit more naturally like that. But that impending doom was still going to happen to him whether he liked it or not. It hung over him like a particularly nasty storm cloud, black and green at the horizon like some misshapen bruise.

Overall, this was entertaining, and the idea behind it is interesting. I want to see more of this crazy world, and learn more about what that big bruising cloud of dread is all about x) I can picture this world being colorful, yet very dreary at the same time. Weird, but I like it!

But for such a short piece, I found a lot of things that could use fixing. The way you wrote it didn't seem very... professional? Like you purposely wrote it in a street-talk fashion that felt like poor slang. I wasn't a fan of that. That was really the only thing that bothered me here, besides that, it sounds like a story!

Keep writing! Have an awesome day!
~blacksheep

OMG THIS IS SO TERRIBLE HOW COULD U RITE THIS LIKE SRSLY COME ON IT'S NOT EVEN GOOD

Sorry, but I've always wanted to write a flame, and I dearly love s'mores. May I have some, please? I'll go stoke the fire for you.

On to the real review! (By the way, please DO send me a return flame. I've never had one. >:))

Trevor, with unease, watched people moving past.

I think this would be better if you moved "with unease" to the end of the sentence.

He figured he was just scared because it was just job to annihilate monsters of all sorts.

You don't need "just" repeated so close together unless you're writing the way someone speaks. (Which is why I love dialogue-- rules of grammar need not apply!) If you want to keep both "just"'s, you need an "a" after the second one.

He smiled at her, trying to mask his unease, ‘course

Interesting phrasing. I assume you wrote it this way because of the word count? You could delete the "just" from the previously mentioned sentence and insert and "of" in front the "'course" here.

I don't want to nitpick anymore.

Overall, you did very well. (The 500 words part of the challenge impresses me.) I especially like the way you broke off in the middle of a sentence-- probably because I do that myself.

Thanks for posting this! It was very interesting to read.

I think you did a good job of developing the atmosphere of this, and giving us an idea of what this community is like, and what the people in this community are like. I'm getting a good sense of your characters, and the way they interact. However, I'm still a bit confused on the whole monster-hunting aspect.

"He figured he was just scared because it was just job to annihilate monsters of all sorts" Just his job. And, who made it his job? Is he annihilating actual rip-your-face-off-and-eat-it, slimy-tentacle monsters? Or just the monstrous people that walk this neighborhood? Is he a vigilante, trying to make the streets safe, or is he descended from a long line of beast-slayers who finds himself in a bad neighborhood (I doubt the last one, but... *shrug*) What exactly is this job of his, how does he carry it out, and why does he have to do it in the first place?

I thought the street language helped to get the characters across to a certain extent, but maybe tone it down just a little bit? It's kind of like if you were trying to write what someone in real life says, verbatim. Somebody who uses lots of 'Uh's, and 'Um's, and 'Like's. If you put in every single verbal pause they make, it's going to get old pretty fast. But if you just leave in a few, the reader will get the hint. :]

I agree with what others said, basically. This is a good start to a story, but it's only a start. It's a good 500-word beginning, but it's just a beginning. If you want a story, you're going to have to find a way to fit in more information about the plot, and what's going on. You did a great job of developing atmosphere, but there was a lot of description, so maybe that's the place where you can afford to cut out a few sentences there and replace them with much-need info?

Keep writing.


EDIT: Also, what does the title have to do with this story? I didn't see anything about a Hanging...