Young Writers Society

 
Hi TheOffBroadwayAuthor,
 
Mailice here with a short review!
 
Incorporating music into stories is always a fascinating and individual way where writer differs from writer. You've proven and illustrated it well. I don't know how I got the idea to pause here when I was looking for a story and I have to say that it really did me good. You have something very developed and lyrical in your text, where one can only read without stopping directly:
 

It seemed nothing could comfort Ludia. The scar on the side of her head had seeped into her brain, twisting it into a wreath of fear and grief. Her hearing, once sharp as an arrow, now withered to eighty percent in the left, ten percent in the right. No voice seemed to ease her, not even her beloved composers, though she listened as if they did. Instruments were the only voice she would give attention to, yet they gave her little peace in return.

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

First Impression: This is a really interesting story. The ending here was nothing like I imagined it would be judging from the start which is quite rare for me...aaand I actually liked said ending which is even rarer so I would say...this is a pretty good story you have here.

Anyway let's get right to it,

It seemed nothing could comfort Ludia. The scar on the side of her head had seeped into her brain, twisting it into a wreath of fear and grief. Her hearing, once sharp as an arrow, now withered to eighty percent in the left, ten percent in the right. No voice seemed to ease her, not even her beloved composers, though she listened as if they did. Instruments were the only voice she would give attention to, yet they gave her little peace in return.

But now, she had no peace. Her phone was dead, and the cable was still in her backpack. It was ten feet away from the bed, which was far, too far. The heaviness in her heart was like lead trapping her body to the bed, the tightness in her chest was a net that tied her arms to her sides. She started to cry, she couldn’t help it, it would be so easy to just get up, only she just couldn’t, she just couldn’t.

Then she heard a few chords in the distance. Her sister Rose was playing a pop song on the piano -- and she wasn’t very good. Ludia could do better. She didn’t know how she would, but she could, and she didn’t need to be taught.

A quiet determination lifted the heaviness, the tightness. Even the never-ending pain on the side of her head seemed to dim. Ludia pulled out her earbuds and set them on the side of the bed, next to the dead phone. She walked, slowly but confidently, out the room, across the hall, down the stairs, behind her sister at the piano. Her sister stopped and looked up.

“My turn,” Ludia said, and meant it.

Rose nodded. Ludia asked for so little these days. If there was any way to help her, Rose would.

Ludia sat and played a few chords. She had no names for them, but she knew what they were. She rested her fingertips on top of the keys, waiting for something to come to her. What came was the third movement of Beethoven’s The Tempest. She began to play.

It was then she understood what music could do, could be. This, she could control, could reason with, could understand. It gave her comfort, hope, strength, like no other thing ever had, even before her injury. She felt whole again, she felt love again.

As she finished, Ludia rested her fingers on top of the keys for a moment and smiled.

“Nothing can touch me here.”

Hi there!

I must say that the first words that come to my mind to describe this story are: immersive and profound. The way you write portrays Ludia's struggles in a very realisitc and immersive light, while also harboring a sadness that tugged at my heart.
Keeping certain sentences short like: "But now, she had no peace" was also a very great technique to allow more emphasis on what Ludia is feeling, adding to the Ludia's perspective.
I also wanted to highlight the lines that really stuck out to me:
"The scar on the side of her head had seeped into her brain, twisting it into a wreath of fear and grief."

"The heaviness in her heart was like lead trapping her body to the bed, the tightness in her chest was a net that tied her arms to her sides."

I LOVE the imagery you use in each line, your poetic manipulation of words is very captivating and left a resonating impact on me.

I also really appreciate how you end the story on a positive note - that Ludia was able to discover peace in the music she played versus simply listening to it in her headphones (a very profound notion).


You did an amazing job!

My understanding of this story so far: Ludia had an incident that damaged her hearing. It's made her distraught and unable to find comfort in anything, not even in listening to music. However, from far away, she hears her sister playing on the piano. This encourages her to also play, and she finds comfort in this act.

This was a very interesting story, and even though I have no clue who Ludia is or what happened to her, I can still relate her character through this small snippet of her life. In addition to that, I feel it's able to stand alone as its own short story, but it also could be a part of a broader story about finding solace through music.

I also thought the brief moment with Ludia and her sister, Rose, was intriguing. As a reader, I can tell that Ludia has probably relied on her sister for a lot of stuff, especially following whatever happened to damage her hearing. I thought you did a nice job of indirect and direct characterization regarding the sisters and their relationship with these lines:

“My turn,” Ludia said, and meant it.

Rose nodded. Ludia asked for so little these days. If there was any way to help her, Rose would.

This story is strong overall. I applaud the choice to use Beethoven's Tempest, it works pretty well thematically. I interpret it as Ludia taking charge of her sorrow and finding the intricacies that make it beautiful. Beethoven is a good parallel to Ludia (who's name is a play on Ludwig, perhaps?), both physically with their shared deafness but also in passionate spirit, as they both learn to appreciate music despite it. That detail alone makes the narrative just a little stronger. The dead phone is another piece that made a lot of difference, it's a strong metaphor for Lydia's mental state.

The ending is agruably the most important part of any piece, and it fell short here. The crying feels a little silly as is. I reccomend describing the tears and their expressions instead of stating that they were "crying with joy." The last line confused me at first, too, since as far as I can tell there was no other indicator that Ludia's injury was from a person.

Your story works well, and represents how it feels to have depression very realistically. It's a great embodiment of "short and sweet." Good job, and keep writing!

Hey there @TheOffBroadwayAuthor

It's a beautiful little story. There's so much emotion and description. It's almost as thought I'm actually there. As far as I can tell there aren't any grammatical errors, and the general plot makes sense. Obviously, you aren't given the entire background, as it's supposed to be a snippet of Ludia's life. Honestly, all I can say is that I really like it, and I hope to learn more about Ludia. Great job!