z

Young Writers Society



An Unknown Man

by Mad


An introduction for something that I'm hoping to make into a short story. Criticism always appreciated.

A man sat on and old and faded green armchair, his dull brown eyes fixed firmly on the television before him. On the floor, next to the chair, a book lay sprawled open, its pages torn and creased. The man seemingly enamoured by the program was nervously tapping the side of the chair, drumming out an uneven rhythm. The action movie before him reached a particular crescendo of violence but he gazed on, unseeing. There was a sudden crack of thunder, followed by the patter of rain drops upon the roof. The man’s head twitched to the side, momentarily focusing on the specks of rain that appeared on his second story window before hurriedly spinning back to face the television.

During that brief twitch something unusual had been spotted. By the window there was a low wooden table caught between washed out brown curtains on either side, a white cloth draped on the shiny wooden surface. On this table was a wooden pen holder, full to the rim. Not unusual in itself but the composition of the pens itself was what made it special. The pens, a mixture of blacks and bright yellows, had been painstakingly arranged. The yellows forming a zig zag lighting bolt, in stark contrast to the blacks that outlined it.

The man suddenly heaved himself up and strode the four paces from his chair to the window, vehemently yanking the curtains close. With a swipe of his hand he overturned the jar of pens, spilling them out onto the floor. Realising what he had done he hunched over, frantically trying to rearrange the fallen pens. Another roll of thunder stopped this flurry of activity and with another 6 long strides he was rushing down the wooden stairs. He reached the bottom, a small nondescript bathroom to his left and a grim kitchen, dark and lifeless, to his right. He passed straight by them, heading for the front door, only pausing to grab a weather stained yellow anorak hanging by the door. Slowly pulling the door open he stood tall in the door way, his yellow figure looking oddly out of place compared to the sudden darkness outside which had been blown in with the rain. A bolt of lighting erupted from the 100 foot high black cloud that swirled angrily overhead. The door slowly swung to, the unknown man disappearing as the sudden flash of light dimmed.


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Sun Mar 25, 2007 12:43 am
Thriving Fire wrote a review...



Unfortunately, I've only read the first version of this because frankly I couldn't be bothered reading something twice and trying to spot the differences. Sorry, I know it makes me sound mean. So you may have fixed the critcisms I'm about to give already.

First off, the bad things. A lack of plot, for a start, which I know hasn't been fixed in the revised version. We're given the basis for a solid story (good character, decent setting, etc.) but unfortunately the basis isn't good enough. I want something to make me keep reading. For example, where is the man going? Why is he going there? And what will he do when he gets there? You get the idea...
Also, the piece seems to be all atmospherics. Sure, this is nicely done, and we can feel the tension and the darkness etc. but that's about it. You need something more then just dry atmosphere. Like energy for example, or just make something exciting happen. Don't rely on atmosphere.

Now, the good things. As you're probably tired of hearing, your details are brilliantly thought out and well observed. You take simple things and make them crisp, clear images. Well done.
And speaking of images, this piece is full of them. I'm somebody who thrives on the unusual and bizarre and there were moments in this story that I lapped up with relish. Bravo.
Oh, and good use of location, by the way. I was given a good sense of the man in his lonely house, watching TV, all by himself. A nice touch.

Overall, the piece was well written and very, very, readable. And who knows, you may even have fixed the problems I noticed.
Well done,
TF.




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Sat Mar 24, 2007 6:10 am
Mad says...



Thank you all very much for your criticism. All I can really say is that I thought the story up as more of a description than a real story, but then that really isnt what I should have been doing.

I'll redo what I have written so far, cutting back on the telling and try to do more showing. I'll also try to work the conflict I had planned into this initial scene so that it is more gripping.

Hopefully I will be able to rewrite this over the weekend but if not I'll have it written by next week. Either way I hope that all of you will give me your opinions on my rewritten piece.

Thanks Goldie, Misty and Claudette all your suggestions are much appreciated.

REVISED VERSION

A man sat on and old and faded green armchair, his dull brown eyes fixed firmly on the television before him. On the floor, next to the chair, a book lay sprawled open. The page showed a strange black and white picture. Large swirling storm clouds dominated the picture. A lighting bolt issued forth. Dimly, in the distance, a yellow figure was cut in half by the bolt.

The man, bored by the program, nervously tapped the side of the chair. He drummed out an uneven rhythm on the arm of the chair. The action movie before him reached a crescendo of violence. He gazed on, unseeing. There was a sudden crack of thunder, followed by the patter of rain drops upon the roof. The man’s head twitched to the side. For a moment he focused on the specks of rain that appeared on his second story window, before hurriedly spinning back to face the television.

During that brief twitch his eyes had focused on something. By the window there was a low wooden table, caught between washed out brown curtains. A white cloth was draped over it. On this table was a wooden pen holder, full to the rim. Not unusual in itself, but the composition of the pens seemed to tell a story. The pens, a mixture of blacks and bright yellows, had been painstakingly arranged. The yellows forming a zig zag, a lighting bolt, starkly contrasted to the black around it.

The man suddenly heaved himself up. He strode the four paces from his chair to the window, vehemently yanking the curtains close. With a swipe of his hand he overturned the jar of pens, spilling them out onto the floor. He realised his mistake and hunched down. Frantically his nervous finger tried to rearrange the fallen pens. Another roll of thunder stopped this flurry of activity and with six long strides he was rushing down the wooden stairs. He reached the bottom, a small nondescript bathroom to his left. On the right was a grim kitchen, dark and lifeless.

He passed straight by them, heading for the front door. He purposely didn’t glance at the assortment of pictures on the wall. Two pictures were of jagged lighting. But one, one stood out from the others. The picture from the book was framed between the two other pictures. He paused to grab a weather stained yellow anorak, eyes cast down. As he pulled it on there was an ominous tension. He reluctantly pulled the door open. His yellow figure looked out of place, outlined against the outside grey. Above dark storm clouds swirled, brewing thunder. A bolt of lighting erupted from overhead. The door slowly swung too as the unknown man disappeared in a flash of blinding white. In the silence the lock clicked shut.




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Sat Mar 24, 2007 5:18 am
Emerson wrote a review...



The man [comma] seemingly [s]enamoured[/s] enamored by the program [comma] was nervously tapping the side of the chair, drumming out an uneven rhythm.


The action movie before him reached a particular crescendo of violence [comma] but he gazed on, unseeing.


The man suddenly heaved himself up and strode the four paces from his chair to the window, vehemently yanking the curtains close.
closed

and with another 6 long strides he was rushing down the wooden stairs.
you spell four previously, but not six? Spell it out. I believe the rule is spell out numbers one through ninety-nine. (something there about.)

The door slowly swung to, the unknown man disappearing as the sudden flash of light dimmed.
The door swung to...what?

Misty mentioned sentence structure, so I'll only briefly echo her. Your sentences are too long, and full, making it all the same thing. It also gives it a stiff voice, making it what might be suspenseful, if it wasn't so dry.

It was well written (even if the structure needs some fixing) but as Misty also said, where is the conflict? Since this is a beginning, we should already know the conflict by now, or have a general sense of what is coming. Hook us in, so to speak, right? So if you want to write more, hook as. Because as for now, I don't entirely care for the unknown man in this yellow jacket. A lot of what you say seems more like description than action, and resembles filler. What is happening?




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Sat Mar 24, 2007 4:09 am
Misty wrote a review...



Ok, so there are clearly a few things at play here. 1) an old man likes to watch TV, 2) he is obsessive compulsive, and 3) there is a thunder storm going on outside. These details can certainly be in a story, but in themselves, do not make up a story.

SOME THINGS YOU DID WELL

I was very clearly able to picture this in my mind's eye. The man was a certain figure in my head, his house, his television, his blinds. You are clearly an articulate girl with a good vocabulary, which is always grand. It's nice reading somebody with real talent. ;) Also, as Goldie said, the man (ergo, you) clearly knew your way around the house.

SOME THINGS TO WORK ON

You need to break up your sentences, make them more stattico. All the same length sentences get very dry, very boring, to read. Also, your overuse of adjetives is horrific. Show, not tell. You need not tell me about the jammed up table with the lightly worn washcloth and the zigzagged pens with the washed out curtains all in the same sentence. While the description is good, you can easily overdo it. And you do.

ALSO~

Where is your plot? I looked, but didn't find it. It seems like you have a solid character and setting, though, and perhaps the plot will follow? I saw a clear obsessive-compulsive component in your man.

OVERALL

This was entirely not-unpleasant story to read. It did not give me a headache or bore me or cause any cringing or premature graying for stress at trying to fix the grammatical ruin. In fact it was quite nearly good. Fix the over-use of adjetives and you're really onto something. I hope you will let me know when you continue this?

Thank ya!

~Misty




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Sat Mar 24, 2007 2:51 am
Goldenheart wrote a review...



Nicely done!

The details are thorough. You feel as though you know your way around the house. The mood is well told.

I've a small suggestion. Just a teeny one. It seems that here and there in your paragraphs, the sentences are all the same length. Why not try breaking it up? Some long sentences, some short? It would add even more punch to your writing.

Good job! Keep it up!

Goldie





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