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... and the Water Whispers Words

by Emmzziee

I've edited this on the basis of the comments below :) hopefully it's a little better. Thank you everyone who reviewed it. It helps me out a heck load.

Who am I to challenge the things that people do? The way they write? I boil, I boil. I look into this bubbling water.

Let me drown!

Let me sway. Let the boiling water fill up my lungs.

My writing. My tremors. My shakes. I cannot write it like this. I must write it this way. I end up writing nothing at all. The oceans in my mind overflow. I cry and cry and cry

I will write about my life, then. I will say; this happened. Now this, and now this. I will not dress it up in phrases.

I will be logical. I will say, see this – now this – now this.

See how I wrote? I did not say, “I trembled like the waves.” I said, “This happened – now this.”

Let me write it here, now; “my life”. I will include every flower that I ever saw. Tiny entrails. This orifice. Synapses. The fibres in a wash cloth.

What now?

I write down everything. I write down every question I ever had. Every thought. What now?

These are just words. This is not a story.

But what is a story? This happens – now this – now this.

Perhaps this is what writers do. They pick out the bigger details. How could I ever write a story, then? My life is not – this part, now this, and now

My life is jagged; misshapen events. I do not finish sentences. My mind wonders. It comes to me now, and then this, and then this. My mind is spinning. Which word is right? Which sequence, or thought? All? None of them?

There is this – is this good enough? And this answer – no. Probably not.

I want to write about the fibres in a wash cloth. Synapse in a secret door.

I want to write about my life. These random events that somehow piece together. How could I write about my life, then? Events connect. So why is it all disjointed?

My thoughts go too fast. Yet what are these thoughts? Nothing, really. Echoes of places. Perhaps a conversation. A book I read.

What is the basis of it? The basis is: nothing, really.

I could never be a poet. Poets write about Odysseys. Gods. Men in trenches. Then they dress them in beautiful phrases.

I am a wife. A what? Nothing. My life is nothing, really. It does not matter. Yet still, I struggle. How can I describe my life? How can I describe everything, and enclose it in this perfect story? This happens, now this, now this.

Here, I will hurl the words out.

My life so far:

I am a wife to Theodore. He hits me. I fall. He pushes me against the wall.

See? I told you that I could not write about violence. See with what icy precision I wrote, “he hit me, I fell, he pushes me against the wall.”

This is not the secret language such as poets use. They do not say: first this happens, then this. But look how much I rambled on. On! On, still! And still I looked back. Changed this word. Scratched out this stumbling phrase.

Stories are logical. “This is the start. This is the climax. Here is the ending.”

Life is not like that.

I want to write about my life. But there is self-consciousness in everything I do.

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9 Reviews

Points: 1012
Reviews: 9

Sun Dec 20, 2015 2:42 am
MJthesongbird wrote a review...

I can relate to this because there are so many stories I want to write, but it costs points to publish here so I usually can't. :(

I'm not sure how this is lyrical, but I guess it's just me. I'm also confused about the ending. Is this about a wife who is abused or a writer that wants to write, but doesn't know how? I guess it's about both, though I'm guessing you're letting the reader decide for their-self . I think you should have just cut out the abused housewife part and use it for something else like a poem or a short story.

I love how you described the feeling of wanting to write and I hope you continue writing and improving as you continue writing.

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33 Reviews

Points: 3581
Reviews: 33

Sun May 31, 2015 12:06 am

Pretty please? May I have that cookie~~~? :3

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33 Reviews

Points: 3581
Reviews: 33

Sun May 31, 2015 12:06 am
CorruptedRoseJen wrote a review...

Konnichiwa~~~~~! I came for the cookie you promised.... \(OpO)/

Jen hasn't done a review in a while, so she should probably start now. First off, I greatly enjoyed your lyrical, and could easily relate to it. I do not claim that I understand it fully, but then again, who am I to interpret another person's heart? The important thing is, you wrote this piece, it read well, it reached out to its readers, and they were given the freedom to view it in their own ways.

I have only one major criticism. Since this piece has been marked as a "lyrical", it should have excellent flow and rhythm throughout. This piece did, in fact, present a very amiable flow, and maintained the same quality in most of the lines. However, there are a few places that still sound... off. For example:

"I want to write about my life. These random events that somehow piece together. How could I write about my life, then? Events connect. So why is it all disjointed?"

Upon reading it many times--both silently and out loud-- I still found the last simple sentence to be unsatisfactory. First of all, the word "disjointed" simply doesn't fit into the paragraph in the right way. I'm not sure if it is just me, but it sounds a little... awkward. Maybe try a few synonyms, and see which ones fit best?

Anyways, I really enjoyed the uniqueness of this piece. The imagery is quite splendid, and reading this is like reading the thoughts of another human being. Even though it can still be smoothed over in some particular areas, overall it was a lovely experience to read, and I'm quite impressed at the way this frustration is being expressed. Good job, and happy writing~~~~~~~~~!

p.s. May I have that cookie now? \(OpO)

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229 Reviews

Points: 11589
Reviews: 229

Mon Dec 02, 2013 9:21 pm
SushiSashimi333 wrote a review...

Hey! Here for the review as requested ^_^

You certainly do make this easy to relate to, even if writing comes naturally to us now it sure didn't when we were younger. I really liked that part about it and it made me want to keep reading. You did however tend to ramble on and on. You got your point across halfway through, and then when you just started repeating yourself it kind of loses that spark it had. This is just me, but I would either add more purpose to the second half or cut it a little shorter.

This narrative really flowed easily in my mind. The short sentences really did match the jagged way her writing was described to be which was great! I also really liked the voice that you gave the character. You made her blunt and showed us through her thoughts and opinions on different kinds of writing, which I thought was very cool.

I'm not going to check for logic too in depth, however I did see some possible mess ups when it comes to spelling. Other than that great job, just try not to ramble ^_^

Sushi :D

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35 Reviews

Points: 1166
Reviews: 35

Mon Dec 02, 2013 9:19 pm
Nica wrote a review...

This is really good! It has a scatter-brained quality that is somehow not scatter-brained. It has a focus while being scatter-brained. It's great!

I'm gathering that it's about a woman who is a writer but also, a housewife. She's reaching for the clouds and wonders why she cannot reach them. She wants to make her own destiny not have others make it for her.

The only things that I would change are the things like, "For you, or for you?" I would change it to, "For you, or for me?" Then, it wouldn't have such a repetitive ring to it.

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1007 Reviews

Points: 13831
Reviews: 1007

Mon Dec 02, 2013 4:41 pm
TimmyJake wrote a review...

Timmyjake here to give you a review!
So this is the first chapter of your finished novel? Have you attempted to have it published yet? You should!
I will critique what I can, but there isn't much to go off of. You have spent a lot of time on this, I can tell.
So first off, your character seems to ramble. She talks and thinks a lot, asking a lot of questions. These questions, or at least some of them, seem weightless. So many questions, but not very many answers.
Another thing in noticed that didn't seem to blend smoothly:

Which self, which self? And others like, but – I – well – I –

While it does add a mysterious approach to things, always asking questions and repeating phrases, they don't seem to work out to me. I think that mainly its a choice of words and punctuation that makes it seem that way. And the repeating of them.

For you, or for you? That part I think would work better as "For you? Or for me?"

Is that how whatshername (er, Virginia Woolf) does her novels? I'm sorry, I have never read a book by her!
She seems to me like a housewife that wants to be more. A women who want to write and see her words take flight and soar. But all she sees are word that are held down by gravity and real-life. Excellent job!
And I like how you bring in the crashing waves, the sirens(whose song was so beautiful that it lured men to the rocks) and the sea god, Neptune.
I think you should read it over a few times, looking for punctuation, word placement(not too much of that) and grammar. Then turn it in to a publishing company. You have a talent! Keep going!


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69 Reviews

Points: 1013
Reviews: 69

Mon Dec 02, 2013 1:30 am
anabelsinclair wrote a review...

Oh my...
Such a disjointed, scatter brained, powerfully descriptive...poignantly emotive... gem. In my humble opinion, this is by no means boring, dull or pretentious. Anyone who has ever attempted to write will identify with the uncertainty, the self-consciousness and self doubt so aptly portrayed by your protagonist. What do I write? Where do I begin? Oh, there goes a gecko.... but I digress.

There are so many beautiful themes in this work that I don't even know where to begin. The prevalent one of course, being water. Boiling, swaying, shaking, trembling and crashing. The inconstancy of motion mirrors her thoughts and emotions, and is nicely buttressed by your sentence structure. It also underscores the conflict between her many selves, as she flows from ocean to river and back.

I also enjoyed the many allusions you reference to, from 'epic' epics to gods and monsters; it brought to my mind the contrasts between these timeless creations and their makers, who must have roiled and struggled just as she does to write. And also appreciated your beautiful descriptions (this cruel mistress wrapped around my neck like a serpent, or in those parts of the ocean where ships rot and sirens sing, or in my veins), and your play on words (Neigh! Neigh! Neigh!)...

Everything about this was excellent to read.

I confess that I began initially apprehensive -- mostly because I'm used to form and order and progression (This happens – now this – now this) but your protagonist's earnest voice pulled me in and I followed her through the boil, tremble and crash. A literary siren indeed.

Thank you!

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