Young Writers Society

This is a new formated writing attempt, concerning two characters from one of my novel attempts: Grave Girl, which is set after the American Civil War.

*

Anatomy of Time
(Tis/Gilbert)

sight;
the first time she sees him, he is faltering, a figure bundled in wool and leather, just a dark blur against the newly white snow, staggering in the distance. each step he takes seems in slow motion, and her gun hand extends and itches towards her holster, just in case, just in case…

touch;
the first time she touches him, he is covered in blood. there are bullet holes in his blue shirt, and crimson splotches of blood blossoming under her finger and heel pads, and when she draws them up again, they are marred with the essence of him.

she can feel the fluttering of his heart under her ministrations, and she hopes it’s not the last time she understands what it is to touch.

comfort;
the first time he touches her, it is the day Normal dies. she is busying her hands with digging the man’s grave and it is a long time before she rights herself and rests the shovel. she wipes the back of her palm across her sweat-stained forehead, and blinks, then stares, fixated, into the sun.

he is standing there, his hand outstretched, an offer, a benediction, a piece of bright and burning hope.

for minutes after he has pulled her out, she can not pry her eyes from his hands, covered with her swelter and dirt.

name;
the first time, she says his name, she is furious. “Gilbert Stark, you—” but he shushes her, and watching him bent over his camera machine, his tongue jutting out: a sign of his acute preoccupation, she forgets why she was mad at him in the first place.

gift;
the first time he says her name, she almost misses the eviction of sound – “Happy Birthday, Miss Crane.” she has no idea how he knows it is her birthing day, and though she is sure that familiarity should bother her, it doesn’t.

nectar;
the first time he smiles at her, she realizes how perfect it is; he is her favorite kind of smile, and nothing will convince her otherwise.

heat;
the first time she laughs at him, he is so flustered and out of place that he cannot hide his mortification. he hopes to god that he is sunburned enough so she can not see him blush.

hands;
the first time they sleep side by side, they just sleep, their bodies and minds so fitfully tied to absence of trouble that nobody says a word on the break of a new day when fingers entwined are found; there are only smiles.

kiss;
the first time she kisses him, she is confused. his lips are soft, and not at all like she expected them to be. they are not hard and unforgiving, but smooth and familiar. this unpredictability tilts her world so far, her feet can’t seem to find the ground in this disorienting haze. but, his mouth is sweet and warm and perfect, and she feels like she has finally come home.

melt;
the first time he kisses her, it has been raining for so long, it is hard for either of them to remember an effigy of the sun. she has lost her hat and her hair is sodden and plastered to her skin. beneath the underhang of a lean-to roof, he wraps a long arm around her, and she sighs.

happiness;
the first time he laughs at her, her face is scrunched and green, lips pursed, and moment he will never forget, if only for the way it made him feel.

ace;
the first time he hits his mark, she grins at him; he’s six years old again and she’s the girl of his dreams.

so close
the first time they confess their love, they are alone. she has seen so much of the world and he not enough, and yet that matters little in a microcosm only containing two.

falter;
the first time she cries for him, she chastises her own weakness, “I should be stronger than this; stronger than a silly girl grieving alone.”

stardust;
the first night they spent together, limbs entwined, skin to skin, they lie under the roof of the world. she catches sight of exploding sparks descending and whispers, “make me a wish.”

tradition;
the first time he mentions forever, she can’t seem to make her lips works in response. forever is a foreign term to her, a direct cognitive of word marriage; and that is some thing she never expected a man to want from her. but, he does, and she wants for all the world that her answer is all that matters.

measure;
the first time she knows he is the one, he is singing. it is a soft, bewitching tune, some interpretation passed down from dispossessed ancestors. the expression on his face is such that she is sure that this is forever.

the end;
the first time she says yes, he smiles, and they both know that this is it.

This piece reminds me of a photo album, flicking between pictures and situations, that's quite smart.

It's an interesting idea, personally I don't particularly like this format, but then that's a matter of opinion.

The whole thing seems to move a little too fast with not enough detail. Also, the titles to each paragraph don't seem to follow any particular theme. I liked your idea of senses at the beginning though.

One of the traps to fall into when trying new things, is ignoring the basics. Capital letters. A lot of people find a repeated lack of capital letters rather annoying.

I'd suggest trying again with this, but focus on your actual writing as well as the style of it. My recommendation would be choosing key scenes and expanding, then cut the rest out.

Keep up the good work. Kudos.

i like how its formatted
keep up the good work

This was an interesting piece. The snapshots are pretty neat, though they don't seem to follow any particular order, so I was a little lost as to what exactly was going on.

The little snippets were well-written, though they don't give us a whole lot of information. We don't get to know the characters very well. However, you were very careful in showing rather than telling, which is a trap that would be very easy to fall into with such short pieces.

This reminds me a little of an experiment of my own, where I am writing a collection of short pieces, all unrelated to one another except that they are set in the same world. However, each contains a clue to the overreaching story and when read all together, the reader will understand the story of the scope. At least, that is my intention... This seems very similar, but the little pieces are confusing.

It was really pretty though. The lack of capital letters is a definite no-no, so I would fix that ASAP. It draws away from your writing and takes away credibility. And I'm not really sure what your title means...

But I liked it. The style was really soothing somehow.

*thumbs up* Good luck with your writing.

~GryphonFledgling

Finally something that is easy to read and is not cliche. Good work. I like it

PM me if you need anything ok? SimonCowell Luver

I disagree with kokobeans about the basics of writing. I like the absence of capital letters, especially in this piece. It gives the writing an unassuming, humble feeling. Like it's a story set in the world of small things, or something. It doesn't work with most pieces, but it does here.

I like the format as well. It is, like someone already said, like a photo album. All these really minimalist images come into mind, giving the whole thing a wispy feeling, like small things translating into much bigger, more profound things. The format is also good for filling in some of the gaps left by the writing itself. The little 'titles' of the paragraphs allude to the things you no longer have to say. 'Melt' in particular is a favourite. The paragraph is does not say it, but just because of the word 'melt' you get a sense of the mood beyond the rain and the kiss.

Now that I've thrown enough flowers on stage, I have one thing to say I didn't particularly like. The end. I like the start of the sentence, but "and they both know that this is it" just doesn't really fit in with the rest. It's just a little bit too plain for my liking. It doesn't have to be extravagant, like saying "and they knew their love would be eternal," but maybe just something a little bit more substantial. "This is it" doesn't doesn't feel like a fitting ending for me. But I don't know, it might be exactly what you want, in which case my opinion doesn't matter. With a piece like this, I'd have to know exactly what you were trying to create before making suggestions.

Anyway, this was wholly up to the standard I know you always deliver. I really must read your stuff more often.