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From: Katie McN
Re: Fire, by john
Date: Tue, 25 Feb 2003 05:53:24 GMT
Hi "Conjugate" <[email protected]>,
On Mon, 24 Feb 2003 21:23:42 -0700 I noticed your interesting post:
[ ... ]
All right; I liked the style. It was very suggestive of the way thoughts work, in short bits and chips and fragments. It was always clear to me when people were thinking and when they were feeling. And I liked the overall format, from the deep past POV to the current POV, switching to show then and now.
Nits to pick: the first word in the whole story is a typo. He's "Ben," not "Ten."
He is ten at the point when the observation was made at least that is how I read the sentence which is my first positive. ;-)
Unless he's being put to death by a surfer, which would be Hang Ten, but never mind that right now. Sorry; hard to concentrate today.
The other thing is that it took me a while to connect "Arthur" with "Ben." But that wasn't too bad overall. I would include a nosex code in there, someplace, but apart from that it was a nice story, well-paced in my view. Thanks for sharing it.
Conjugate
It's Me! Katie McN
<[email protected]>
Read My Stories at:
www.katie-mcn.com
From: Conjugate
Re: Fire, by john
Date: Tue, 25 Feb 2003 21:49:06 -0700
"Katie McN" <[email protected]> wrote in message news:[email protected] ...
Hi "Conjugate" <[email protected]>,
On Mon, 24 Feb 2003 21:23:42 -0700 I noticed your interesting post:
[ ... ]
All right; I liked the style. It was very suggestive of the way thoughts work, in short bits and chips and fragments. It was always clear to me when people were thinking and when they were feeling. And I liked the overall format, from the deep past POV to the current POV, switching to show then and now.
Nits to pick: the first word in the whole story is a typo. He's "Ben," not "Ten."
He is ten at the point when the observation was made at least that is how I read the sentence which is my first positive. ;-)
Aha! That makes a great deal more sense than my other theories. Thanks, Katie.
Conjugate
From: Katie McN
Re: Fire, by john
Date: Tue, 25 Feb 2003 04:44:16 GMT
Hi johndear!
Thanks for sharing your story:
Fire
by johndear
[email protected]
The Fishtank is a lot of fun and seeing work from a variety of authors makes it even better. As you already know, I'm one of your fans and was delighted to see your new story here.
The two positives were easy. Your opening line:
"Ten was old enough to know at once he'd got it wrong."
Got my attention and forced me to want to read the rest of the story. After making sure a story has an attractive title, a strong opening is the most important way to interest a reader. You did a crisp job with your selection.
The other major positive for me is the way you were able to convey a complex story that operates on a variety of levels in a way where I could keep track of what was going on without feeling I was a bookkeeper. This shows substantial technical writing strength and something I can really appreciate.
I have two suggestions which are really just my opinions. You have a section in your story where there is a substantial amount of dialog without any intervening narrative or other breaks. I use dialog to compress action in a story and feel it accelerates reading and so should be controlled in a way that doesn't leave the reader in a frenzy. It would seem to me that some narrative or a beat sprinkled here and there would improve the readability of this section of the story.
Throughout the story you turn interesting phrases and use unexpected language constructions. I love this and it's a tradition in literary fiction. However, I feel this passage does not do as much for your story as if could:
"Half a century ago. The town was Renison. The movie house? What? James Dean. Yes. The Empress Theater."
Having your narrator converse with him or herself internally might work on occasion but when it's combined with sentence fragments it doesn't seem right to me at least not in this case. I could be wrong and would be interested in hearing from others with different opinions.
Thanks again for making your new story available to the Fishtank and I hope you find all the remarks posted in this thread useful.
It's Me! Katie McN
<[email protected]>
Read My Stories at:
www.katie-mcn.com
From: oosh
Re: Fire, by john
Date: Thu, 27 Feb 2003 00:26:09 +0000 (UTC)
Author: johndear
Title: Fire
I thought the story was charming and thought-provoking. I liked the way the impetuous teacher is driven to rashness by two very different, but equally innocent, loves. Part of the poetry of the story lies in the way these two different loves are juxtaposed, without comment, for our contemplation.
I found the prose style difficult. The first time I read the story, I was tired, and although I enjoyed the rhythm of the prose, and could appreciate that this something that had ben very carefully put together, I really didn't understand a word of it. It was just like reading Gertrude Stein. Had I not read the story again, I would not be responding to it.
On second reading, I still felt that this piece demands a considerable struggle from the reader. Like Conjugate, at first I thought that "Ten" was a character in the story, and I was wondering when he or she was going to reappear. I had to re-read the section about the "server" several times before I could understand what was going on. This writer does not insult the intelligence of his readers by explaining anything that they might eventually be able to work out for themselves.
Is the struggle justified? I think so. I'm somewhat reminded of iambe's style, in that it forces the reader to adopt a very much slower pace than normal. It does prove an effective device for conveying the stream of consciousness that makes up the principal character.
I did not feel that the concept of fire (or crying wolf?) was quite well enough integrated into the fabric of the story. It returns at the end - a good unifying device - but I wasn't totally convinced that Tom's poem had to be about fire. It felt like more of a device than an architectural backbone. The real unifying feature of the story, surely, lies in the consciousness of Ben.
O.
From: Bradley Stoke
Re: Fire, by john
Date: 27 Feb 2003 14:02:39 -0800
johndear
This was a pretty intense tale I thought. An interesting contrast between Ben's monologue and Lori's and Cin's dialogue. These are people who clearly feel things pretty intensely.
I feel rather inadequate for critiquing this story. I would have liked a bit of Laurel and Hardy levity, but instead it was a view inside minds who feel things with an intensity and self- consciousness that I don't think I've felt since I was an adolescent myself trying to make sense of things like John Steinbeck.
I thought the contrast between the two mindsets was interesting. And I thought the story structure was very well executed.
I did also feel too much distance from Ben's mind. And a lot of the story rather puzzled me. I was slightly lost in Renison and I wasn't sure who was sixty and who was sixteen. Perhaps I need to re-read the story to fit it all together in my mind. So I was a little confused and a little disengaged.
However, the language, although self-conscious, was evocative, many of the descriptions were nicely executed and although I didn't feel the story held together as well as I'd liked it was an interesting and memorable treatment of unrequited passion.
But did people even in Renison really use bicycle inner tubes as condoms? That really doesn't sound very pleasant at all!
Bradley Stoke
http://www.asstr.org/~Bradley_Stoke
From: PleaseCain
Re: Fire, by john
Date: 28 Feb 2003 02:41:03 GMT
Bold story, gutsy writing, you really went for it. There are so many thoughtful touches here; yes, I definitely had to reread and review this story, and it was worth it: I'll do it several times more, in fact. Nothing wrong with demanding work from your reader, if skillfully done. Were some phrases oblique? Perhaps, and if you returned to edit a few weeks or a few months from now, you might smooth some of these parts. But I liked that the story started with "Ten" and I liked her date with Lenny, and I wouldn't want to lose those things or the pace or the cuts into their thoughts. Let it all fly on those early drafts, and fix it later, that's the way. My opinion.
The story is ambitious enough that it demands fleshing out. More Ben, even if just some physical detail, but maybe something more intimate. More Lori, because she's more than a periphery character and yet she remains undeveloped, especially her similarities to Ben's dreamgirl of 50 years earlier, which would tie the story tighter (as would Oosh's suggestion to restate the fire theme).
Somehow you've kept the dialogue straight, without using identifiers. I like the opening too, although that fourth sentence stretches too long and dampens the effect (as does the long sentence in the second paragraph, but that one is not as important).
Oops, I'm gushing. Too bad, loved this story. The Fish Tank can be a sloppy place sometimes.
Cain
From: Tesseract
Re: Fire, by john
Date: 28 Feb 2003 05:12:22 -0800
"Desdmona" <[email protected]> wrote in message news:<[email protected]> ...
Fire
by johndear
[email protected]
The parallel story lines are intriguing and, of course I have to continue reading to see how they interact. You keep the tension growing until the stories cross.
I like your opening sentence. I properly understood it the first time I read it. But when I got to the end of the paragraph without seeing a name I was beginnig to think the character's name was "Ten". If you drop a "Ben" somewhere into that first paragraph it would help.
BTW, I think I know what O.P.P. is but would all your readers?
I missed the connection of Ben and Arthur and had to backtrack to pick it up. Maybe call him Mr. Arthur the first time that name is used. Or change the last name to one that isn't also such a common first name.
I'm not sure if this is a positive or a negative. You drop names into your dialogue just enough for a reader, with some effort, to keep track of the speaker.
Overall I liked the story. Thanks for swimming.
Tesseract
From: Poison Ivan
Re: Fire, by john
Date: Fri, 28 Feb 2003 10:41:39 -0500
It's easy to find good things, so I'm just going to quote my favorite passage for one:
"Loving Tom might get your points all hard, make you wet between your thighs. Tom loving her might solve how penises got hard or how they felt inside."
Perfect for a student with an infatuation with her English teacher!
And for the other, I liked the boys boasting about sex. The ignorance and uncertainty was very similar to some things I remembered when I was eleven or so. The rubber thing was funny!
For improvements, I would change Ben Arthur's last name to something that was obviously a last name. Bunker, or O'Conner, or Stapleton, or White, or whatever. I was fooled into thinking Arthur was another boy in class at first, which only happened because Arthur could be someone's first name. Also, "Ben Arthur" looks a lot like "Bea Arthur!"
My only other suggestion is one I'm a little embarrassed about. It took me a long time to figure out what the computer lab set up was. From what I pieced together from the story, I've never seen anything like it, which probably means I've been living in a cave for a long time. I had no idea they used computer networks in English classes these days. I wonder if anyone over the age of 35 who isn't exposed to a modern high-tech classroom would have a clue what was going on? Would it be possible to squeeze in a detail or two about how the snooping works? Or a physical description of the room. You could even do it in the conversation between Cin and Lori. "Arthur gives me the willies. You know he spies on us at that monitor of his." Or maybe Lori could do it. "It's against the rules. Arthur keeps us busy in the lab. You realize he can see our email from his server." Those are probably too transparent, but something along those lines. Or any variety of ways from Ben's point of view.
It's a cool story. The more I think about it, the more I enjoy it.
From: Desdmona
Re: Fire, by john
Date: Mon, 24 Feb 2003 22:40:09 -0500
First, I apologize for the delay in getting this posted. johndear and I needed to get through a Laurel and Hardy act we were playing with each other to get this file. This is a complete story at 1,707 words. The author provides us with this header information
Author: johndear
Title: Fire
Summary: Ben protects an unrequited love.
Keywords: love story
Length: 1,707 words
Copyright: c. 2003
FishTank guidelines apply:
1) 2 positive comments
2) 2 suggestions for improvement
3) Try not to repeat!
Complete guidelines may be found at:
http://www.asstr.org/~Desdmona/FishTank/base/storyguide.html
Questions? Concerns? Submissions? Direct them to [email protected] or [email protected]
Fire
by johndear
[email protected]
Ten was old enough to know at once he'd got it wrong. The moment that he'd yelled, before the solitary echo died inside the darkness, he felt sorry. "Fire!" His lack of foresight shocked him, more even than it hurt his mother or dismayed the burly O.P.P. who sat with them for hours and wrote down notes inside a metal folder.
Half a century ago. The town was Renison. The movie house? What? James Dean. Yes. The Empress Theater. Thank god the dozen cheapskates at the matinee had shuffled to their feet like it was school and in a lazy line meandered up the smoke free aisles to safety. Thank god they'd known that nothing bad would ever happen, not in Renison. Too bored to picture tragedies, it had to be some drill.
The constable kept asking, "But why exactly, Ben?" His mother looked as if an accident had sheared a limb from her, like things could never be repaired. All that Ben could think was, "I don't know. I really don't," and "It just came." He didn't cry. Benjamin, age sixty, had no regrets at all.
Lori had no way to picture Renison in 1953. She'd lived her eighteen years inside a slab of concrete forty stories high. She couldn't know how loudly families lived in single-story wood frame homes adjoined to ill-trimmed, fenceless lawns. She couldn't comprehend temerity on scales that blocked off arteries or suffocated kids. She'd heard of Renison. Ben Arthur. English, Academic. Drifting snow and blackfly clouds. As esoteric as the moon.
Lori sprawled upon her bed in just a cotton robe and terry turban. One hand connected her by phone to Cin; the other grappled with her homework due tomorrow.
"Don't blow it, girl!" Cin.
"Sure." Intransitives. She'd studied that before. Which were they?
"Lori! Put down the book."
"I'm not. Really."
"Don't lie, girl."
"It's due tomorrow, Cin."
"So? You have like ninety-fives. No wonder you can't get it on with Tom."
"Okay. I closed the book."
"Lori! Don't weird me out. You could have your pick of any guy in school."
"Dream on. And you could have straight A's if that was what you wanted."
"Just check your mail in class tomorrow."
"Don't tease me, Cin. What's it about?"
"I'm just the messenger. He said for you to check."
"It's like medieval. Why not just talk to me?"
"He's shy? How do I know? Just check, okay? He's cute."
"He isn't shy. He's captain of the team. He's student council, too. He's not afraid to talk."
"More than cute, Lor. Jeez, just give the guy a break. He's hot for you."
"As if. He prob'ly wants to borrow notes."
"You idiot. Wake up! He's like the coolest. I'd do him in a second if he wanted."
"I have to get this homework done." Cin answered her with silence. "Yes, he's cute. Satisfied?"
"And you're back to reading history, aren't you?"
"Grammar," Lori sighed.
"You're weird, ya know."
"What did he say? Really."
"'Check your mail.' That's what he said."
"Maybe. It's against the rules. Arthur keeps us busy in the lab."
"Don't blow this, Lor. Shake a little booty. Screw Arthur for a change."
"You're getting me upset."
"Good. You act like Lisa Simpson. If you never get upset, you'll never get it on."
"I'm sorry, Cin. I've really gotta go. I'll check it out. I promise."
The conversation ended; Lori double-checked her verbs. Could one just "love" without an object? Was "Tom" required? Somehow, yes, she could. Arthur taught her that: to "love," more than just his English class, more than learning, more than marks, or Tom. What a winner essay that would make? "Love Intransitive." But loving Tom ... She smiled and snuggled down inside her comforter. Loving Tom might get your points all hard, make you wet between your thighs. Tom loving her might solve how penises got hard or how they felt inside.
You don't yell, "Fire!" by accident. The cop knew that. His mother would have too if she had ever gained her poise enough to think. Ben never told his reason. Not in fifty years.
Karen Currie moved to Renison on Labour Day in 1953. At ten, you didn't notice girls, you didn't see the skinny kid in cut off jeans bike down to Fran's to buy a ten cent coke. The men were playing fastball by the creek. Who cared the way her mouse-brown hair hung down in tangles or lifted off her weak, girl-shoulders in the whisper of a breeze? Not Ben, not him, for sure. Girls were stupid mostly, so it hurt to have the image of her face, the almost crooked nose, the near excess of freckles on her cheek, to have it seared into his mind behind closed eyes before he slept.
He hadn't told her. She'd never been his girl. He wouldn't stare at her all day. You'd catch him dead before you'd catch him dreaming her in class that fall. Dreaming what? Was Renison another planet? He must have been a freak to know so little? What "fucking" really was? The other guys all knew, knew precisely what "it" was. One day, they'd carved up pieces of an inner tube and passed him one and told him how to fold it on his "cock" and use it as a "rubber". They knew. Outrageous secrets. Had done amazing feats. Ben couldn't dream of things like that with Karen. Just one wet kiss that, somehow, like a movie, led to marriage and a child.
"Mr. Arthur! Would you like to join the rest of us for Spelling?"
Everyone had laughed. Ben heard but one. She'd laughed like baby robins, little squeaks that would have sounded stupid, were it someone else.
The constable persisted. "It's serious what you did, son. Someone else might try it now."
"I'm sorry."
"I know that, Benjamin. But why?"
It happened at the chicken part. Someone had tied a chicken or thrown one on the porch. Which? He remembered how it squawked. Remembered how the screen door banged in black and white, while silhouettes five rows in front of him leaned into one another. Karen. God, not him. Not the boy who'd given him the "rubber." Not with her. His arm around her. His lips to hers. She kissed him back. He felt like throwing up. The word had hurled itself between his lips. Yelled, "Fire!"
"I just said it, that's all."
He had a way with kids. Lori often wondered what it was. Someday she'd have a class. Like his. Like yesterday. Right at the end. He'd pulled an "Arthur". Said "Class dismissed" with maybe five before the bell. Surprised them. Then just as kids recovered, started getting up and turning off computers, "Wait. Some of your verbs. Today. Pretty sloppy, really. Let's try this. Tonight, flip through 'Of Mice and Men.' Find ... oh, twenty super verbs. Label them 'transitive' or 'intransitive'. Objects. Sentences. Page numbers. Okay? Questions?" those and then the bell. Challenging. Spontaneous. That was Mr. Arthur.
"You checked?"
"Cin! I started an amazing book. Steinbeck."
"Did you check your mail, Lor? English sucks."
"I checked."
"And?"
"Nothing."
"It had to be. He told me."
"Well, there's zip."
"He was so hot for you to check, Lor. No kidding."
"Doesn't look too keen right now. Does he?"
"Where?"
Tom, as tall and lean as an erection, lounged against a locker down the hall. His laughter stabbed the noisy corridor. A slim cheerleader pressed her cheek onto his chest possessively, shards of honey hair along his sweater.
"Oh, fuck!"
"He actually doesn't look that shy."
"He's such a slut. How could he? He called last night. No shit, Lor. He did. Something's totally strange."
"Don't sweat it. I'm not."
"What a low-life, Lor."
"I'm cool. Anyway, I've got a date tonight."
"Oh, yeah. Who?"
"You don't know him. A guy named Lenny."
Yesterday, he'd watched the server in the lab, flipped through every station, watched their try at free verse poetry. Ben watched their minds, each grasp for word perfection, each way to better turn a phrase, to show instead of say. They thought in cuts and pastes these days. Delete. Insert. Don't play with fonts in class, my dear. It's words we're forging.
He'd spied on Lori mostly. Teacher's pet. Well, what the hell. She'd earned the epithet. She loved to write. She loved to learn. Still looked at life with curiosity. In love with simply living. Innocent of how attractively her amber hair had curled, her eyes could smile, her body curve into her clothing. Teenage romance had not misled her. Yet. Some horny guy had not re-formed her passion, re-calibrated brains. Not yet.
Move on, Ben. Another student. Then another. Tom? Our football hero. What metaphors burst forth from quarterbacks today? Oh, god. He's written something. God. An image, even. Must have copied it. The aging teacher watched young Tom construct his ode. Falter. Then recover. Form words, backtrack, push on again. Not plagiarized. Exceptional. Monkeys? Endless rows of primates pounding on their keyboards. A lucky shot. Infinity: the pedagogue that always has success. Eventually. Keep going, Tom. Don't spoil it. "Ember," son, not "coals". Oh, my. You saw that, too. What fortune!
Move on. No. What's he doing now? The intra-school message warning flashed. Forbidden in his class. Don't do it, Tom. You know the rule. What now? The message: "Just for you!!!!" The attachment titled "Fire," a copy of the poem. To whom? Not Lori! No! Too busy now to notice she has mail. She'd love it, though. Surprised like me that Tom could write beyond his name.
Impulsively, Ben stammered, "Class dismissed!" The clock; four minutes early. Shit. This isn't happening. "Wait." Think. "Some of your verbs. Today. Pretty sloppy, really. Let's try this." He stalled while students exited the program. No, she hadn't seen.
Finally the bell. Books dropped and stomachs growled. They'd shuffled toward the door. Ben didn't notice. Was busy checking student passwords. Had changed the addy on a surreptitious note. Rerouted "Fire" to someone blonde, more into football, way more fun, he thought.
From: Desdmona
Re: Fire, by john
Date: Fri, 28 Feb 2003 23:07:32 -0500
**************************************** Fire by johndear
[email protected]
johndear~
This story makes me want to whine, just like a kid in school. Why does the author have to make me work so hard to understand. Sure, the answers are all there, but ugh! I have to dig to get them. But then there's the other side of the coin, the side that makes me want to say, darn! I wish I'd written that. You know, the way you feel after you have figured it out, like any challenge that is met. How is such complexity born from such simplicity?
The thing with a story like this is the first read is never enough. Even if you're not left with any questions about what's happened, it's still likely you'll miss some of the beauty of the prose, or vice versa. So I guess an author has to be sure that his audience is the type that will want to read it again. I can't imagine anyone that was compelled to read it to the last paragraph will be satisfied not to read it again.
If there's anything I would suggest it would be to actually include the poem, "Fire." I would have liked to read it. Without reading it, we have to assume that Ben Arthur knows exactly what would woo Lori. Maybe he does, but I'm not convinced. I would have liked to have been wooed as well - to know exactly what Ben Arthur has taken from Lori. Maybe Tom is just a football player, maybe he accidentally wrote a lovely poem. Or maybe he's much deeper. By reading his poem, we could either be swayed to think Ben Arthur has done Lori a favor, or we could be convinced he's done something irredeemable.
Thank you very much john for making me think. I only whined a little.
Des
From: Jeff Zephyr
Re: Fire, by john
Date: Fri, 28 Feb 2003 23:44:39 -0600
On Mon, 24 Feb 2003 22:40:09 -0500, "Desdmona" <[email protected]> wrote:
As a late poster, I'll add one quick me-too reaction:
The thing was hard to grasp on first reading, especially when tired. That makes it harder to get into the story. I don't know off hand how to improve that aspect, or even if it needs to be improved. But since I noticed this, and others did too, maybe there is something?
Timing and tense. We have a story, set in the present, with flashbacks to half a century ago. Both the distant past and the current present events are related in the past tense, even in segments where both time periods are descibed successively. I think that at the least, the relative pasts need to be introduced sentences setting up the situation for each transition, or else, the tenses need to indicate which things happened in the distant past, as opposed to the "present" within the tale.
The constable kept asking, "But why exactly, Ben?" His mother looked as if an accident had sheared a limb from her, like things could never be repaired. All that Ben could think was, "I don't know. I really don't," and "It just came." He didn't cry. Benjamin, age sixty, had no regrets at all.
May as well use Benjamin Arthur here - no reason not to introduce him by full name now that you're explaining that he is age sixty.
"Maybe. It's against the rules. Arthur keeps us busy in the lab."
"Don't blow this, Lor. Shake a little booty. Screw Arthur for a change."
Maybe one or both should call the teacher Mr. Arthur? Especially when talking about following rules? It makes it clear that it isn't an aide with that first name, or someone else.
On positives, a sort of semi-positive is that Benjamin behaves in the same sort of interfering way twice - long ago, and in the present. In both cases, his actions don't seem destined to get him the girl. It is a kind of spoiler, almost a prank. He doesn't explain why either, not within the story. Just that he has no regrets about his actions.
That gives me a funny, creepy feeling. I understand his upset feeling some, but I still can't get into the idea of actually doing such things. Somehow, Ben comes across as a boy, and man, who does act that way.
I don't know if I like that, but since no one finds out about his actions, it is something very private, intimate, and secret. There is something about secret desires and feelings, even if it isn't quite sex, it is touching.
The girls talking about dating and stuff was cool too. Not to spoil things too much, but one might suppose that they could IM each other outside of class - home computers are pretty common, enough to make that an ordinary sort of thing. Does make me wonder how things will work out with Lori (and whatever happened to Karen?).
Jeff
Web site at http://www.asstr.org/~jeffzephyr/ For FTP, ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/jeffzephyr/
There is nothing more important than petting the cat.
From: john
Re: Fire, by john
Date: 1 Mar 2003 20:43:24 -0800
Thank you. For your generosity, to begin with, which is always heady, especially from the likes of you. For your patience. I guess I knew that it was complex on several levels (time and sequence were the things I had to stop and draw a map of), but I somehow looked at it as being overall quite simple. Duh? For your participation. It's way too early for me to tell you which bits will prove the most valuable when I start to edit, but the fact that you wrote thought-provoking comments, serves not just my personal end, but it hones this Fish Tank thing into a very useful tool. Yes, thank you all very much.
I might, however, ramble for a bit. Ten/ Ben. It never even dented my thick skull. I know, in fact, a whole family of Ten's quite well. They once had the extraordinary last name: Ten Sunrises, but it proved to be too long for White tongues to traverse with much ease. The Ten's, a gracious lot, were abbreviated without a single protest that I know of. But, none of them appeared in "Fire" to the best of my intention.
The "Rubber." Autobiographical criticism is pointless really. So it's just an aside that I confess I've worried for almost as long as Ben whether this weird product of a pre-teen mind [not mine] was 1] even slightly plausible 2] as gross as I imagined and/ or 3] a total hoot to boot.
The lab. Oh gawd, high tech? Not here. Well, how would I know? I just know I've used it, and kids don't seem to mind. It keeps them on task and out of trashy sites like ours I guess. The intra-school email ... now that was fiction. I just assumed that further south where there are roads, such marvels must exist. It ought to be quite simple.
The poem. Now that's a scary thought. Me writing a poem and letting others see it. I'll just maybe wait on that ... until after doing taxes and taking out the trash ... and darning that lame sock ... and ...
Did I say thank you? Don't repeat she says. Well, thank you anyway. Every single one of you.
John
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From: Conjugate
Re: Fire, by john
Date: Mon, 24 Feb 2003 21:23:42 -0700
Woo hoo! I get to go first! (Give or take propagation speeds.)
"Desdmona" <[email protected]> wrote in message news:[email protected] ...
All right; I liked the style. It was very suggestive of the way thoughts work, in short bits and chips and fragments. It was always clear to me when people were thinking and when they were feeling. And I liked the overall format, from the deep past POV to the current POV, switching to show then and now.
Nits to pick: the first word in the whole story is a typo. He's "Ben," not "Ten." Unless he's being put to death by a surfer, which would be Hang Ten, but never mind that right now. Sorry; hard to concentrate today.
The other thing is that it took me a while to connect "Arthur" with "Ben." But that wasn't too bad overall. I would include a nosex code in there, someplace, but apart from that it was a nice story, well-paced in my view. Thanks for sharing it.
Conjugate