Young Writers Society

There is a man on the back of the train.

He's in a wheelchair, with a stump of a leg and a harmonica in one hand, a hat in the other. He's talking to you, to all of you on the 7 Train to Times Square-42st at 6:37pm when the sky is a painting, maybe a Renoir impressionism one, with strokes of pinks and purples that gently melt into a setting orange sun that burns so bright it blinds you for a second or two. He's talking about the war from that long time ago when the color TV was a luxury and children ate Pixy StiX. He's telling you about the shivers he gets at night and the flashes that sneak up behind him when he's not looking, like smoke that wraps itself around him, choking, smoldering him until he blinks and suddenly he can breathe again.

You put your music up a little louder, tapping your feet to slow jazz or vulgar rap or the impossibly perfect vocals of a pop star; or maybe you've forgotten your iPod at home today so you stare out the window at the dusty city you live in, the one that's so loud because it's afraid of silence, afraid that if it's quiet the flashes might sneak up on it too. The train is turning now on Queens Borough Plaza and the man is pushing his wheel chair a little further down the train, still talking; now about his dead wife, and how just a dollar would help a lot. Come on. You business men with your Armani suits and PalmPilots can spare a dollar, right?

One of those college kids, you know, the hipster ones that major in film at NYU and smoke weed on campus, pretending to be smarter and more sophisticated, more cultured than you, that type of college kid, he throws a couple of dollars into the man's hat. The man gives the boy a hushed 'thank you' and you could swear he was a little embarrased. Too bad. Beggars can't be choosers.

He's coming near you now and you're getting a bit nervous because oh, you see these people every time you take the train, each with their own sob story, their own tragedy and it bothers you that you can't even write this man off as a fake like some of the others, because this man doesn't have a leg and this man has this look in his eye like he's seen too many corpses and he knows that it'd be easier to become one himself.

You would spare a dollar or two, but you don't even have any change and well, it's so much work to reach into your bag. You stare out the window or turn up your music a little bit higher while the man talks and talks and talks, the squeaks of his wheelchair almost hidden by the sounds of the underground, his voice becoming white noise in the background while you and the thirty others in the train become an almost ridiculous portrait of New York.

It's okay that you're ignoring the man. He's used to it.

This was horrifically, saddeningly true. What a piece. Great job capturing the sensory images and emotion of the scenario. This was inspiring and touching, even though the end was sad. I am impressed by your work, and also heartbroken for the poor people like the old man that live all around us, and yet we do nothing. Thank you for writing this piece. It should be published.

~Jess

hey!
it was real touchy! i really think you have covered all the needed emotions in this short piece.it would make it even more beautiful if emotions are introduced more deeply.

He's coming near you now and you're getting a bit nervous because oh you see these people every time you take the train, each with their own sob story and it bothers you that you can't even write this man off as a fake like some of the others, because this man hasn't gotten a leg and this man has this look in his eye like he's seen too many corpses and he knows that it'd be easier to become one himself. You would spare a dollar or two, but you don't even have any change and well, it's so much work to reach into your bag. You stare out the window or turn up your music a little bit higher while the man talks and talks and talks, the squeaks of his wheelchair almost hidden by the sounds of the underground, his voice become white noise in the background while you and the thirty others in the train become an almost ridiculous portrait of New York.

this really brought out the cold heartedness of human kind. i like the way you have referred to the man as 'this man'. shows the detachment on part of the man.

congratulations on the story!

-manisha

Saving a review spot ;D

Hiya! I get here eventually!

Sorry it's taken me a good few days to review! I'm soooooo busy with college; it's unbeliveable! I only just turned on my computer to write some more of my novel and thought, oh - I promised Jas a review! Okay, so here I am...I'll get on with it! So, the reason I really really really wanted to review this piece was because it was so fantistic to read! I felt chills when I read it, seriously, it was fab!

I don't really know how to describe how I feel about this piece! It's so observent, so captivating. It's as though you've taken a step back frome everything and just taken it all in. You've expressed it so beautifully and succinctly in flawlessly uncluttered prose - which is quite an art!

It's such a powerful piece which puts the issues you were describing into perspective; a whole new light. I couldn't help feeling ashamed but it made me realise that the way the beggar and the man in the wheelchair were treated - it's normal; it's life, and that's the saddest thing of all.

Thanks for writing such an amazing piece; it was an inspiration! Keep writing like this! I know this review probably wasn't too helpful, but I hope it spured you on a bit!

Amelia

Wow. Fantastic piece. I don't even have any critiques-- I just thought i'd complement you on your fine work ^_^ this deserves to be featured. I love the style and the words and... everything! That is all xD

He's talking to you, to all of you on the7 Trainto Times Square at 6:37pm when the sky is a painting, maybe a Renoir impressionism one, with strokes of pinks and purples that gently melt into a setting orange sun that burns so bright it blinds you for a second or two.

Is this the 7 o'clock train or train 7 (the seventh train)?

He's talking about the war from that long time ago when the color TV was a luxury and children ate pixy sticks.

The brand is actually called pixy stix http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pixy_Stix

The train is turning now on Queens Borough Plaza and the man is pushing his wheel chair a little further down the train, still talking, now about his dead wife and how just a dollar would help a lot, come on, you business men with your Armani suits and PalmPilots can spare a dollar, right?

The underlined part seems to be words the man is saying. If it is, you should put it in quotes. I kind of like it like this though, all merged within the text though.

I like how you write this piece in second person so the reader can easily slip into the role of the MC. What I find interesting about this piece is how it almost seems like a sermon, as if this whole piece was a monologue. You get your point across effectively: we don't help beggars. Everything becomes even more relate-able when you decide that the MC is not going to give the man money. The way you write your prose gives the piece a poetic feel to it with the small details you throw here and there and paints a vivid image in the reader's mind. I cannot really provide you with any feasable suggestions. I'm sorry.

-Crescent

Jas!

H'lo there. Allow me to just jump right on in here. Some things I did like:

I know you live in the city and the whole east coast is your thing, so I can greatly appreciate the authenticity that went into this. Writers tend to write best what they know best. And you seem to know New York best. The stylistic side of it appeals to me. Mostly because I wish I could write something in the atmosphere of the east coast, and I honestly can't. Though I am familiar with a lot of it --tv and movies and stuff. I really was into this bit here:

One of those college kids, you know, the hipster ones that major in film at NYU and smoke weed on campus, pretending to be smarter and more sophisticated, more cultured than you, that type of college kid,

In general, I'm sure you can guess why I found this amusing, because you obviously wrote it to sound amusing. But it also adds some flavor to your writing, and that's probably what I love most about the work you do. It's just... sick.

Another thing I liked was your overall attitude toward voicing this piece. There was obviously heart behind the screen, and you allowed it to peak its way through in the sense of your old man character. I found the reader could take pity on him, whereas the speaker was telling things point-blank and blunt as they appeared. Things were slightly black and white. So nice job with all this. I do have a few nitpicky points to bring up though while I'm at it here:

when the color TV was a luxury and children ate pixy sticks.

Children still eat pixie sticks. I don't think this was a great pairing with the comparison before it if you were meaning to get across another, farther along, time period.

like smoke that wraps itself around him,

I don't like the comparison of smoke here.. It seems far too done-before and hampers the nicer qualities of your writing. Even if you feel inches away from cliche, flee! Especially when your writing is already coming across so smoothly in other places.

You put your music up a little louder, tapping your feet to Mr. Brightside by the Killers

I'm not quite sure what to make of your musical reference here. My first impression was that it sounded too familiar of a tool for someone to name a common song, and I would have liked to've seen you go at a much stronger route. Perhaps not carrying your musical reference to a song so common. Normally when I read published works and a song is referenced, it's:

1.) A song I'm only vaguely familiar with, or completely unaware of, so the writing stills glides off smoothly without disruption to me thinking, Why would the writer put in such a pointless detail?

2.) It's brought in so cleverly I skip to think it was ever pointless to bring up as a detail anyway.

It's easy to reference stuff, but right here it just sounded like you were tossing it out there the kind of music you're into as you're telling a scene. Which I tend to do myself, and sometimes it really does work. But here I had a different scene going on in my head, and The Killers just seemed random. xD Sorry if that sounds weird. I am weird. Pay me no mind, but pay what I said in mind.

The train is turning now on Queens Borough Plaza and the man is pushing his wheel chair a little further down the train, still talking(;) now about his dead wife(,) and how just a dollar would help a lot(.) Come on(.) You business men with your Armani suits and PalmPilots can spare a dollar, right?

I feel like the last bit could be italicized or something. In my head it felt like you were voicing those words either in strong preference to the poor old veteran, or in the voice of the old veteran. I wasn't exactly clear on it though. Perhaps you could have been a bit clearer in this chunk of writing in general. As you can see I've separated the sentences a little differently. Only because that seemed to be how my head wished to read it. Or maybe you were just voicing a run-on. It was quite the choppy run-on in that case. x) Break it up a little. Too many run-ons tend to sound try-hard poetic and prosey and I'm not liking how it fits in so heavily with this piece. Be a bit more subtle and you're golden. You want to use that type of device gingerly.

Overall, I truly and honestly love how you ended this. I feel like the piece, though short as it was, was indeed tied together sufficiently and with much of your own style and taste. And that's all that really counts. :]

Hope anything I mentioned may be of some help to you, dude. x) Look forward to seeing future works up. As always, I'm here for reviewing if you need it.

-Smylin'

Jas,

I've lived in NY for 8 years, so how can I not love this?

I was just commenting on how your style is very detail-oriented. I'm so pleased with this, because you've made use of the style quite effectively in this piece. The style/structure as well as the words themselves work hand in hand to depict this portrait of New York City, so nicely done. It reminds me of Oscar Wilde & Nathanael West, who did the same thing with their novels - and you can see how their voices are so distinctly different, likewise, your voice is distinct, different.

I would italicize the old man's voice/words to indicate speech that way you can clarify that he is speaking without resorting to quotation marks. I feel quotation marks would separate it too much and ruin the effect of the painting, but with italics, his words remain seamless, and you get the added bonus of not confusing the voice of your beggar and the voice of your speaker.

I'll be honest though, I'm not a fan of the second-person. To me it feels pushy and it's a little jarring coming in out of the blue like that, if you had started with second person, it might have been different. That being said, there was this piece I read a few months ago that used second-person effectively. The writer of the piece started with second-person right off the bat, and it served to bring the reader into the story as the character - almost as though we had a role to play. Ultimately, this is the exact thing that first-person point of view does, but it's brought into focus with second-person. Second-person becomes an asset rather than a hindrance.

You put your music up a little louder, tapping your feet to Mr. Brightside by the Killers or maybe you've forgotten your iPod at home today so you stare out the window at the dusty city you live in

You stare out the window or turn up your music a little bit higher

Here are the trouble places. They become trouble places because of the second-person point of view. You present "or" because you're trying to give the reader flexibility - but then why bring such a specific song into mix? o_0 SmylinG mentioned it too. It's just jarring for me for two reasons,

1) I'm forced to participate into this story and forced to either listen or watch out the window
2) if I want to listen to music then I have to listen to the Killers o-0 I would've excused you if it were a symbolic song representative of NY or the people you're trying to portray but as SmylinG said, it just seems random.

A lot of writers using second-person will either have it where the "you" is the reader, being led by the writers' voice, which is why I tend to not like it. In the piece I linked you, the "you" is a character the reader gets to know intimately and the writer speaks to the character, as though we were reading a letter.

Obviously, stylistically, your piece is different because it's more a painting then a letter BUT it might be useful to study how the writer interweaves the objects and people of his story with the second-person voice. I feel if you can successfully interweave both the scene (the train and the old man) and the second-person voice together, then it would read much more effectively. And maybe you can make the speaker (the one on the train) a character - rather than the reader?

Because as of right now, I feel as though the second-person voice just comes out of the blue, as though you're trying to meld two different styles together. We have this old man introduced first in third person, and the supposed speaker introduced in second-person - it gets jumbled.

That's my only critique.

Otherwise, I enjoyed this piece very much stylistically and poetically as well, there were a lot of interesting descriptions. Let me know if you have any questions/ want to discuss further. Good luck on the contest!

~ as always, Audy

I won't lie. This is one of the most solid pieces of flash fiction I've ever read. I absolutely love the way you have made this stream-of-consciousness effect work in your piece. It was absolutely, brilliantly done. I don't feel like giving a critique because I have nothing constructive to say other than this piece was extremely well done and I give you props for that. Keep writing like this. You'll go places.

-Jared

This was absolutely amazing. The writing has real voice and character to it, and the story is heart-breakingly true. This is the kind of short story which really grips the reader and leaves them with a long-lasting impression.

I honestly can't see anything wrong with this at all - honesty is so important when it comes to writing, and although it's sad to say so, this piece is frighteningly honest.

I absolutely love this. I'm really glad that I read it - I don't have much of a review for you, but I wanted to let you know that this was really, really good.

~MorningMist~

The message is rather clear from the moment you start this piece until the moment it ends.

My dear, I do apologize for such a late review. Long week and whatnot. I'm here now so I hope this isn't coming in too late!

Now, the story. Let's begin.

Presentation wise, I love the fact that this does not contain dialogue. Sometimes people use dialogue as a way of dumping information that really shouldn't be dumped rather than implying with eloquence, and in this case a great deal of eloquence is necessary. Which is why I liked and disliked this.

You see, there is a certain dialect you chose to use with this. I like to call it the 'Catcher in the Rye' dialect where the sentences sort of drag a little bit to give it a more artsy, interesting feel. And sometimes it does. Sometimes that's exactly what a short story like this needs, but in moderation.

As it goes, I found the second line of this a bit irritating;

He's talking to you, to all of you on the 7 Train to Times Square at 6:37pm when the sky is a painting, maybe a Renoir impressionism one, with strokes of pinks and purples that gently melt into a setting orange sun that burns so bright it blinds you for a second or two.

Now, even in The Catcher in the Rye, he used a quick succession of short and long lines to create a rather interesting, unusual, but exciting dialect that worked well. Especially repeating certain important points which give a foreshadowing effect that wouldn't be there without.

What you did was you started off with a decent sentence, then jumped right into this long-winded style that didn't quite work out to the effect I'm sure you wanted it to.

Now, as the story goes, it was a little bit.. overdone. The idea was superficial and out-played. Though honest and depicting that bit of shame we all experience in such situations, and peeling back a layer to reveal a certain truth, the layer in itself is constantly peeled, and the truth constantly revealed. Which makes me think that you should have tried to push the envelope a little bit. It has a flutter of originality, but as a winning piece, I think you need something with a little more umph.

As it goes, you have quite a bit of talent as a writer. This piece depicts that clearly, but it is unfortunately rather superficial in retrospect, which is unfortunate.

Write something honest, hun, but something you. You already have talent in the bag. Its originality that you're lacking.

~Walker

Hey Jas! Here as rewques

Whoa. So many reviews. I don't feel like reading them right now because I'm half asleep, so I'll jump straight into the review!

What went well

Before I even talk about the story itself... I love all those little details that don't make sense to me at all about the train system, because it's pretty clear it's the New York Train system. It feels like you've been there (I wouldn't be surprised if you were) and it really shows. The subject matter is obviously one that happens often and maybe you've experienced. Those tiny details make it even more realistic.

Second of all, it's like 'You' is the name of the character. I like that because unlike some pieces in second person, it doesn't feel awkward or forced or anything. It makes me, personally, feel like I can easily slip into this character's shoes and imagine the scene, knowing what it feels like. The actions of the character is what most people would do which really help something like this with a powerful message.

[quote=You]when the sky is a painting, maybe a Renoir impressionism one, with strokes of pinks and purples that gently melt into a setting orange sun that burns so bright it blinds you for a second or two. [/quote]
LOVE.

Oh and the message is just brilliant. Something which probably happened to any of us. This is a great way to show it!

It's okay that you're ignoring the man. He's used to it.

This feels like a moment where you could just shed a tear, to be honest. That's how powerful it was.

Warm up, over!

Even Better If
Not that much. Sorry if I accidentally repeat something that's been said XD

Nitpicks:

tapping your feet to Mr. Brightside by the Killers

I'm not really familiar to the song. To really build the atmosphere, could you describe it in a few words? Like, I dunno, "Tapping your feet to that Killers song, Mr. Brightside with the loud drums" or something?

One of those college kids, you know, the hipster ones that major in film at NYU

So. Incredibly. Nitpicky XD Er - would it be possible to make that to NY Uni or NY University or something? I didn't understand what it stood for - seeing as I don't live in the US. It's very picky of me though XD

and how just a dollar would help a lot, come on, you business men with your Armani suits and PalmPilots can spare a dollar, right?

This confused me quite a bit. Was there supposed to be quotation marks? Or was it deliberately indirect? If so, could you make it slightly clearer?

There is a man on the back of the train.

Shouldn't it be at the back? :S I've always thought of "on the back" as being literally on someone's back and at the back ... what you meant there. Or maybe that's just me? XD

Otherwise, no other critiques!



Overall
This was incredibly moving. It was such a powerful piece that whenever I encounter this situation, I'll be thinking of your story. The title intrigued me too. I don't think the story is 100% perfect, but it is excellent. I hope my critique helped! You've got a strong message, a strong moral of the story here and that's what made me really enjoy it Jas

Keep Writing!

'Blues