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Between the Stones

by IamI


Author's Note: An explanation for the insanity that is about to follow is required. In this preface I will explain the grammatical rules for the mid sentence POV shifts I employ here and the main idea that prompted me to write this. In addition to this, I also which to note that I deliberately change POV within the same paragraph, I have simplified these cases into separate paragraphs or into POV-switching sentences whenever I thought necessary. 

1) Grammar Rules: The Mid-sentence POV shift is notated by a vertical line (which looks like this: |) and must always be surrounded on wither side by the original Point of view of the sentence. POV may also change from paragraph to paragraph or within paragraphs from sentence to sentence, though I discourage this.

2) Theme: The main preoccupation with this story can be summarized as follows: what if the characters in a story had intents differing from those of the Author? I won't go into any more detail, as to leave the reader free to develop their own interpretations free from the authors influence, but I leave this idea here for the review to keep in mind when formulating their opinions on the effectiveness of this piece of work.

Work begins here:

Between the stones—————————————————

You come upon two cleaved apart stones at midday. They are in the middle of a field greened from the spring | I thought of looking back at the forest from which I had come | you do not look back, but keep your eyes forward at the cleft in the stone, the stones are tall and are like dual sundials, casting their overlapping shadows on the field. It dawned suddenly upon me then that I had no recollection of passing through a forest | you have no need for a memory of something beyond the forest; you walk forward | In my confusion, I barely noticed my legs moving me through the cleft in the stones towards the greater cleft in the distant mountains. You move with unceasing purpose away from the forest and the stones towards the mountains | as I moved towards the mountains, I began to feel as if there was something slipping away with the forest, like the tendrils of a dream | you continue away from the forest; there is nothing for you there.

Despite my best efforts, I found myself unable to change my course. As I walked, I tried to penetrate the haze of my memory before the forest | you try and remember what lay before the forest, but any coherent recollection eludes you | I tried harder, straining to grasp something out of the fog. Finally, an image came to me: it was of a muddy path lined by trees that arched overhead, painting everything in shadow | as quickly as it came, your memory slips away | I could sense my determination morphing into desperation as the image dissolved, like sand into water. There must be something more! There must! I thought. You stop to rest as night comes. You lay upon the cool, soft grass but you do not sleep | I closed my eyes and wait for sleep to come | you do not sleep.

I slept.

My dream was mine and it was of a small village built on the banks of a packed-earth road, cloaked in the strange shadows of twilight. I turned around and there were young boys—neither more than ten—standing outside a low house talking to a woman.

“When will daddy be back?” The younger of the two asked.

“I don’t know, James.” The woman said.

“Daddy usually goes on walks, doesn’t he?” The older of the two chipped in.

“I’ve checked the rout he usually takes, but I couldn’t find him—I—I,” the woman’s voice caught and she began to cry “I don’t know where daddy is, I—”

“Mary?” I said as I walked towards the woman. I knew the name—she was my wife: the woman who had shared my bed for fifteen years. She turned around and rushed towards me. She knocked out my breath as she wrapped her arms around me.

“Daddy!” Both of my sons shouted in unison.

We went inside and had a small dinner. After Mary and I had put the children to sleep she took me back to the main room of the house where she pulled one of the stools away from under see the table, sat down, and asked:

“Why did you go? I’ve done my best to come up with a reason but I can’t—I just don’t understand.” I pulled out a stool and sat across from her.

“I don’t know either, but I promise you I won’t do it again.” She smiled. We stood up and embraced.

“It’s time for bed, love.” She said as she pushed her stool back under the table. I did the same and we walked to our bedroom.

“I know you’ll be working overtime at the mill tomorrow, but promise me you won’t be anywhere else.” Mary said when we had gotten into bed.

“I promise,” I said.

Mary was still asleep when I woke the next morning. I dressed myself, had a small breakfast, and went for a walk. My usual route took me down the center of the town and then around its perimeter, but today something drove me down a different path, off the packed-dirt road and towards the forest. My thoughts became more fragmented as I entered the forest and by the time I came to the other side, where two stones stood alone in the center of a field.

I shot up from the grass and began to weep, straining for my dream | as the sun rises, your dream slips away from you, you forget it | After a few moments the dream slipped away. I continued forward, wondering why I had been crying.

You pass that day in silence, admiring the empty land as you walk. When I came to the valley it was night | you lay upon the ground, but cannot find sleep | eventually I slept. In the moment of clarity before I woke fully I knew I had had another dream of my past. As quickly as the clarity had come, it left.

By midday I had come in sight of a large town | you find a cobblestone road and follow it into the town; it is busy and people swarm about, but one person catches your eye | I found my eyes upon a woman; she was tall with a humble look about her | you walk up to this woman and greet her; you ask her where you might rest | I watched the woman as she thought for a moment.

“I think I know of a place—do you have money?” She asks. You think for a moment, then put a hand into your pocket. You feel coins. You nod. “Okay, that makes things easier, I could have called in a favor if I needed to, but I try to save those until I really need them. Just follow me.”

“Thank you for helping me,” I said, following her through the crowd “I’m new around here,” I explained. It seemed such a paltry summary, but she wouldn’t have believed me if I told her the truth.

“It’s fine,” she said, “I didn’t really have anything else to do today—I guess I was just looking for something to do.” We stopped in front of a three story building topped by a peaked roof. “Here we are.” She said.

You both reach out for the doorknob and your hand brushes against hers | my hand recoiled as if I had touched a piece of red hot piece of metal | the woman blushes as you mutter half coherent apologies. She opened the door awkwardly and led me inside. The inn was quiet this time of day: only a few people sat around the room. The woman diverts your attention by lightly touching your hand | I started and turned around | you look at the innkeeper in silence for a few moments, listening to the rise and fall of the woman’s voice as she recounts to him what little information you told her.

“So,” the innkeeper’s voice jolted me out of my reverie, “you want a room?” I nodded as he brought out his guest book and placed it on his desk with a thud “how long?”

“I’m not sure—a while, though,” You answer “however much this’ll pay for,” you take the coins out of your pocket and place them on the table. Seven large gold coins lay on the desk in a semicircle.

“That should pay for about two weeks,” the innkeeper said as he took an inkwell and a quill out from under the desk and placed them next to the guestbook “name?” He asked.

“John.” You say after thinking for a moment.

“Alright then, your room should be on the second floor: third door on the left.”

“Thank you.” I said.

“I’ll lead you to your room.” The woman says to you.

“Thank you.” You say. You follow her up.

“So why’d you come to this town?” The woman asked as she led me up a set of stairs near the back of the main room, “I know this is a big town, but I’ve seen most of the people here at least once, and you’re not one I remember.”

“I’m not sure why I’m here” I answered. She might be able to help me figure out how to get back to wherever I came from | You dismiss the thought, you decide to stay a while | “do you know anywhere I could find work?” I asked. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be leaving soon.

“Sure,” the woman answered “the inns are always looking for workers, if not there then there’s the mills.” I nodded, when she mentioned mills something turned in my mind | the half-formed image slips away from you quicker than it came | I realized I had stopped. The woman was looking at me with worried eyes.

“I’m fine.” you say, and follow her down the hallway to your room. You both reach for the doorknob again, this time you halt and let her open the door. You notice she is blushing.

I followed her into my new room. Most of the meager space was taken up by a bed with a desk pushed flush against its right side and a large chest set against the back wall.

“I never got your name.” You say as the woman turns to leave.

“I’m Ranalia, most people call me Rani, though.” the woman says.

“I’m John,” you say, “perhaps we can meet up again tomorrow?” You ask. Ranalia nods slowly.

“I guess, it would have to be later though—I work tomorrow.” She tells you. You nod and watch her as she leaves, pulling the door shut behind her.

After Rani left I laid down on the bed | as you lay there, unsleeping, you contemplate your feelings for the woman | I wondered what it was that kept the image of her in my mind. As I thought about it, something churned in the back of my mind; I tried to reach for it | the image slips away it fully forms in your mind, every time you try to grasp it it eludes you | I sighed and fell asleep.

My dream tonight was different: I was walking in a forest I did not know. When I tried to turn around to return the way I had come my body did nothing. I tried to turn my head, but it remained fixed, staring forward. I watched with swiftly mounting horror as my body marched forward of its own accord. I would have been weeping by the time I emerged from the forest. I found myself in a field, empty save for the two stones in front of me. They reminded me of a try that had been split apart by frost. That memory brought a torrent on me and if I had been able to cry I would have renewed my sobs. I was overwhelmed by the memories crashing upon me: walks with my wife around the town where I had lived—walks with my children—the frigid day a tree split and nearly fell on our house. I’ll never see any of you again. I spent my final dreaming moments wallowing in hopelessness.

When I woke I felt tears cold against my face. More tears followed them as I began to weep—I didn’t care if the people in other rooms heard the choking wails that made my body tremble. Then I realized I still knew why I was crying. I launched myself out of bed. There was some paper and a pen on the desk. I staggered towards the desk. It was still dark out but I still managed to keep my writing relatively neat as I frantically scrawled out an explanation to my future self. The daylight had come. In my final lucid moments I prayed the ink on the paper was dry and shoved the sheet into my pocket.

You shake off whatever nightmare catapulted you out of bed. I wiped the tears off my face, wondering how they got there, I remembered clearly for a moment—long enough to remember what I needed to do with the paper in my pocket—before my memory slips away. You try to remember, but find you have forgotten all of the night before now and the day, save for your promise to the woman to meet her | I remembered the woman, and I found myself eager to see her again | you leave your room. You get a small breakfast before you leave in search of a job.

You find a job at a mill near the edge of town. You are surprised by your familiarity with the job. At midday your shift ends.

When I made it back to the inn I saw Rani waiting at the door. Her round face was framed by loose strands of brown hair that had found their way over her shoulders.

“Hi,” you say. The woman nods awkwardly as you open the door. “How was your day?” you ask. The woman shrugs | we were silent as we found seats at one of the tables | when you sit down, you wait for the woman’s response.

“It was fine—no better than yesterday, no worse, either.” Rani answered.

Conversation is slow to come and quick to leave, but eventually you become more comfortable. After perhaps two hours you both are talking freely.

“So where are you from?” I asked.

“I was born here.” Rani said “I grew up here, learned to write and read, though honestly I think I’ve forgotten all but the basics of both, I just don’t need to know it.” After a moment she asked: “where’re you from?” I looked down at the table as I thought | nothing comes to mind as you try to remember your origins | I sighed and shook my head.

“I...I can’t remember.” I said. Rani shrugged.

“It’s not important, I mean, you’re here now, what use is mulling the past over?” I nodded, I did my best to let her words console me, but I struggled to convince myself she was right. Rani looked out the window. I followed her gaze and was surprised to see it was getting dark out. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “I have to go, see you tomorrow?” She asked as she stood.

You nod and say your goodbyes before going up to your room. As you walk, you are unable to stop thinking of the woman. Her face is the last thing you see before you fall asleep. This routine continues for days that compound into months and years. Eventually you and the woman marry, and you live your life peacefully, never thinking again of the two parted stones.

Though I never thought of it during the day, I would always dream of what lay beyond that forest whenever I laid next to my wife and closed my eyes. And in the moments after the daylight had swept away my dream, when I would look at that paper where I had scrawled all I could before forgetting, I would wonder how much I had lost when I reached those cleaved apart stones.


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Wed Sep 16, 2020 10:31 pm
mellifera wrote a review...



Hey IamI! Hope you don't mind if I drop by for a review today :)


You come upon two cleaved apart stones at midday.


Because I ALWAYS have to comment on first lines/openings whenever I start something new, I wanted to mention that I really like this first line! There is no beating around the bush about introducing something, there is no trying to explain something rather than jumping right in. I really enjoy just starting out, and I'm already curious about the cleaved stones.

you do not look back, but keep your eyes forward at the cleft in the stone, the stones are tall and are like dual sundials, casting their overlapping shadows on the field. It dawned suddenly upon me then that I had no recollection of passing through a forest


I think there's meant to be a split between "shadows on the field" and "It dawned suddenly upon me" since there was a perspective change.


I'm not very far in, but I actually do greatly enjoy the dual perspective? I've never read something like this, and the breaks between the two, differing perspectives comes across as very poetic. I think it adds an elegance here, and I really like that.


In my confusion, I barely noticed my legs moving me through the cleft in the stones towards the greater cleft in the distant mountains.


I'd recommend finding another word to use over cleft? It's a pretty word and fits well, but at this point, it's starting to get repetitive, so I might keep that in mind and either reword the sentence or find a synonym.

I barely noticed my legs moving me through the cleft in the stones towards the greater cleft in the distant mountains. You move with unceasing purpose away from the forest and the stones towards the mountains


Another instance where I think there should be a splot between "distant mountains" and "You move with unceasing purpose"!


One thing that I might suggest trying instead would be to keep it all in present tense? You switch between the two for the second person/first person, which is fine, but I think it might read smoother if it was first person/second person and all present tense. Of course, you're using your own creative decisions here in this story, but I thought I would recommend that!


There must be something more! There must! I thought. You stop to rest as night comes.


I'm not going to keep pulling these down, because it's not really that helpful in my opinion, but there's another missing line here. I went back to check your grammar rules, and I'm not entirely certain whether this was intentional or not, but if it was, I wouldn't do it on and off? If you put in the vertical lines to mark the change from second to first person, do it consistently. Otherwise it's just confusing.

“I’ve checked the rout he usually takes,


I think you meant "route" :p

“Mary?” I said as I walked towards the woman. I knew the name—she was my wife: the woman who had shared my bed for fifteen years. She turned around and rushed towards me. She knocked out my breath as she wrapped her arms around me.

“Daddy!” Both of my sons shouted in unison.

We went inside and had a small dinner. After Mary and I had put the children to sleep she took me back to the main room of the house where she pulled one of the stools away from under see the table, sat down, and asked:

“Why did you go? I’ve done my best to come up with a reason but I can’t—I just don’t understand.” I pulled out a stool and sat across from her.

“I don’t know either, but I promise you I won’t do it again.” She smiled. We stood up and embraced.


I wish this was a little more of a scene? It feels so skipped over and hollow. I'd love more substance to the narrator's return home to their family, and the conversation they have with their wife. The short started out so lovely and the descriptions were so vivid, I'm a little sad that you cut back here and glossed over this reunion.

My thoughts became more fragmented as I entered the forest and by the time I came to the other side, where two stones stood alone in the center of a field.


There either needs to be a conclusion to "by the time I came to the other side" (perhaps "and by the time I came to the other side, where two stones stood alone in the center of a field, they were little more than a haze.") or it should be rewritten as "My thoughts became more fragmented as I entered the forest. I came to the other side, where two stones stood alone in the center of a field". You lead into something else when you say "by the time I" since it alludes to something happening by the time the action takes place, but then nothing actually happens.

I shot up from the grass and began to weep, straining for my dream


When did they lay down?

jk, this is on me for not remembering. I might try to clarify that they are waking up from their dream a little more specifically, but I think this was mostly because I had gotten up in the middle of the review and forgot they were dreaming.

but she wouldn’t have believed me if I told her the truth.


Does the narrator know the truth though?

placed it on his desk with a thud “how long?”


This should be 'placed it on his desk with a thud. "How long?"'

(there's actually a few instances where you slip up on this exact thing, so you might want to comb through and catch those little snags!)

I would have been weeping by the time I emerged from the forest.


"would have been"?


Now that I've read the whole thing, I would encourage you to expand on the brief reunion scene between John and his family even more so. It would show their bond, and what John is missing in his faltering memories, and I think it would make his move to a new life even more impactful. It's implied, yes, but I would love to see more emotion in this piece from John, even if the "author", trying to redirect him, is pushing him away from that/does not have that same emotion.

At the end, you mention that John "never thinks again of the two parted stones", but in the last line, it directly says that John was thinking of those parted stones. I know John seems wont to attempt to redirect himself away from what the "author" is trying to make him do, but the "never thinking again" seems definitive? Just my thought.

This is a very cool concept for a short story that I really enjoyed. The "character rebels away from the author's will" was a really neat idea, and I'm glad I choose to read it today!


That's all I have for you today! If you have any comments or questions about anything I said, please feel free to let me know!

Otherwise, I hope you have a wonderful day, and Happy RevMo!

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IamI says...


Thank you for your review, @mellifera , this was unexpected but certainly not unwelcome. I was actually editing this before I decided to briefly check up on YWS (I'm hoping to submit it to a contest soon). your suggestions are good ones (though I probably won't take your suggestion about changing the tense to all present tense, I'm not a particularly huge fan of present tense, but past tense second person sounds accusatory, and I wasn't really going for that sort of tone), that one about him knowing the truth especially, I know I need to do something with that. I'll probably get rid of it.

Thank you again for your review! I'm glad you liked it!



mellifera says...


you're welcome, and best of luck in the contest!! I hope you do well <3



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Sat Sep 12, 2020 3:41 am
HGsomeone wrote a review...



Ahoy hoy,

For this review, I decided that I would write it and take notes as I read the story. So kind of my impression of the whole thing as I read it for the first time. Hopefully, this goes well.

...............

"You come upon two cleaved apart stones at midday."
"

Ah, starting out in second person I see, or at least assume. That's different but definitely eye-catching, and second person can sometimes work surprisingly well in short stories (I feel like if it were to be done in a full-length book it might eventually become a bit annoying but I've never seen it done so what do I know).

"I thought of looking back at the forest from which I had come"


A nice smooth transition, I'm glad though that you've chosen to clearly signify the change in perspectives because then the whole thing might become a tad confusing.

"you do not look back, but keep your eyes forward at the cleft in the stone, the stones are tall and are like dual sundials, casting their overlapping shadows on the field.


This sentence is a little long. Perhaps consider splitting it by changing the comma between 'the stones' and 'the stones' halfway through to a full stop, or even a semi-colon.

"I closed my eyes and wait for sleep to come


Throughout this whole paragraph, something was bugging me about the tense and I'm assuming both perspectives are written into past tense so the 'wait' in this feels a little off and would work better as 'waited'.
Remember though, I'm not the best when it comes to tenses and they're tricky little buggers.

"you do not sleep.

I slept."


A little odd but we'll see where this goes.

"there were young boys—neither more than ten"


I think you missed the indication that there were two boys given from a slight reading ahead. Without this information, the 'neither' feels a little weird and the sentence would probably work better if it was changed to 'none'.

“Daddy!” Both of my sons shouted in unison.


Just a suggestion, but maybe a stronger reaction from the two boys when they see their father return, y'know, rub those emotions in.
Also, we don't know how long the father has been gone, whether it was just the day or ten years. I haven't read ahead so you might specify later so, for now, this is just a suggestion.

“I know you’ll be working overtime at the mill tomorrow, but promise me you won’t be anywhere else.” Mary said when we had gotten into bed.


Again, I feel like you need a stronger reaction though I guess this does depend on how long the father has been gone.

your dream slips away from you, you forget it | After a few moments the dream slipped away.


This is a bit repetitive and I feel like you could jump straight to the next sentence without the "After a few moments the dream slipped away."

but she wouldn’t have believed me if I told her the truth.


I'm a little confused about how much of his past the main character actually remembers.

“I’m not sure—a while, though,” You answer


Is the capitalisation of 'You' meant to signify the change in perspective or was it just random?

Most of the meagre space was taken up by a bed with a desk pushed flush against its right side


I must admit, I've never seen 'flush' used in this context.

the image slips away it fully forms in your mind,


Bit of an odd phrase, I'm not entirely sure what you're trying to say.

Conversation is slow to come and quick to leave,


I love this line as this is certainly what a lot of conversations sometimes feel like when you're just waiting around for a good topic to come up.

And in the moments after the daylight had swept away my dream,


I feel like you could do without the 'And', though this might just come from bias towards sentences which start with 'And'. Either way, here's a little example of a possible rewrite of this phrase if you wanted to, though I didn't change that much.

In those moments after the daylight had swept away my dream,


.......................................

Now that's all said and done I can give you my proper thoughts on your little story.

In general: I really liked it and think it might be one of your best.

More complicated: I got a little confused and I can't see how the plot was related to the summary you gave at the beginning.
While I can kind of see what you were trying to do with John unwillingly leaving his family and the cleaved stones kind of being the start of his intended story by the author. But by him entering the new town, working and the mill, getting married and so forth it felt like it was all kind of circular with Rani being the mother of the two boys as well.
It felt less of a character trying to defy their author and more of a groundhog-day repetition of events until coming full circle.
You could maybe remedy this with John's feelings towards Rani, like something akin to him liking her but not in love though he doesn't know why. As if he has this ever-present feeling of inner turmoil as he feels like this isn't his real life.
This is all my interpretation anyway and a possible remedy to make it's meaning slightly clearer, ignore it please if it is currently making you throwback your head at laughter at how far it is from being correct.

Anywho, the change in perspectives was interesting all the transitions were pretty seamless and not that confusing as my brain adapted to the style. I quite enjoyed them though I was a little confused about their meaning. Was it something to do maybe with the change from the characters thought to what the author wanted them to do???

Now to my poorly educated overview of the grammar. Nothing glaringly wrong jumped out and anything that I did find is probably listed in my read through above. The only final note I could possibly add would be that there are probably some unnecessary capitalisations at the beginning of sentences after the dialogue. This might just be a personal choice but since it wasn't everywhere maybe check on your consistency.

To conclude, let me restate that I did really enjoy reading this and all my comments above are merely suggestions so feel free to ignore them.
In other news, you might see me again as I try to repay the debt I owe from leaving so many lovely reviews on my own works.

So, until we meet again,
- H.G

(I'm a little annoyed that word count stops counting towards points once you reach a certain limit but at least you get to enjoy this extremely long review :D )




IamI says...


Thanks for your review! I think most of the issues with tense are due to typos. I agree that: "your dream slips away from you, you forget it | After a few moments the dream slipped away." is repetitive, I'll take a look at it and figure out how to fix it. I"ll think about making the reactions of the children more dramatic. I should also probably specify how many there are, I will fix this when I go to edit.

Thank you again for your review!



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Tue Sep 08, 2020 11:07 am
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ChrisCalaid wrote a review...



Hi IamI. I'm here for a quick review!
This is really a beautiful story. I love the simple and intriguing title of this short story, and I would very much love to read more of your work! It's a wonderful story to read full of chaos and confusion. And I don't think I have much to say about this, so let's go on with it!

"Between the stones—————————————————"
What are the lines for? I don't think there was an explanation about that in the author's note...Or was there? It's not that important, I was just curious about it since it occurs within a line like way.

"Mary was still asleep when I woke the next morning... My thoughts became more fragmented as I entered the forest and by the time I came to the other side, where two stones stood alone in the center of a field."

Didn't John already wake up? You should italicize where he is dreaming so readers can easily understand...It's kind of sudden, and a bit confusing when you wrote, "My thoughts became more fragmented as I entered the forest and by the time I came to the other side, where two stones stood alone in the center of a field."I thought he awoke already...
By the way, I think you need a comma after "forest" and before "and".

I'm not really sure why you switch perspective to first and third quite so often. Even though changing perspective adds to the chaos I'm don't think I fully understand why you wrote that way.

Overall, I enjoyed reading this short story and would love to read more of this beautiful story. This is really impressive a writing and it's written in an interesting way.

Keep on writing!

Best wishes,
Chris

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Tue Sep 08, 2020 5:36 am
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ShadowVyper wrote a review...



Heya IamI,

Happy RevMo! Shady here with a review for you. Let's get started...

Mary was still asleep when I woke the next morning... My thoughts became more fragmented as I entered the forest and by the time I came to the other side, where two stones stood alone in the center of a field.


I would suggest italicizing this dream segment. This paragraph that I quoted, in particular, confused me whether it was still part of the dream or if it was something happening in the story proper, especially with the odd narrative voice you're taking for this story. Italicizing dreams and thoughts are good to set them apart from something that is actually happening in the scene at hand.

Conversation is slow to come and quick to leave,


This is REALLY good imagery, and I highly enjoyed this bit.

~ ~ ~

This is a really intriguing story! I admit I'm not super sure I follow why you chose to have the perspective change between first and third so many times. However, it did really add to the dissonance and sense of chaos, so in that respect, it really added to your overall theme here. I also like that you allow our confusion to feel like a natural outgrowth of John's confusion.

The biggest critique I have is making this a bit more... understandable? I'm not quite sure what happened to John before now, or what he keeps referencing about happening before. You could even, if you wanted to, expand this story a bit into a part one and a part two so you've got more room to explore what's going on in John's psyche.

I think this is a REALLY fascinating premise, it just needs a wee bit more context to make sense to your readers. But overall, I really enjoyed reading this, and I'm glad I did! Great work!

Keep writing and Happy RevMo!

~Shady 8)




IamI says...


Thanks for your review! I am not particularly interested in writing a sequel or a second part, but I might if inspiration strikes me, so thanks for putting the idea into my head.

I probably should have italicized the dream sections, the thought occurred to me but it never really struck me as necessary, since I signal when its a dream and when it isn't.

On the subject of dreams, the dreams serve as backstory to how John got to where he is, but I realize that those really don't give much context, since they are brief and rather abrupt (deliberately so, but that doesn't change anything). I'll keep this in mind if I decide to edit.

Have a great day!




He who knows only his own generation remains forever a child.
— Cicero