Why you don't get published.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
New Beginning 178
The thing that crept into my window that night had no mercy upon my wicked soul. My hedonistic lifestyle brought me to this evil place. My conscience became a part of the beast within my soul that continuously ate away at my being. My erosion was so gradual that I didn’t realize that each day and each time I prayed I had to name one more sin. My prayers became longer and longer and, being so, more and more meaningless. And on that terrible night in the middle of one of those lengthy prayers as I was trying in vain to remember all of my iniquities I realized I was going to die the sin unto death if I did not turn things around. Once again I fell asleep praying, I know this because I never said amen.
I was awakened by . . . some . . . thing . . . something, indescribable. From within my dreams, I heard its footfalls on the balcony.
It was the sound of the sash that roused me from my slumbers. A dull thud as it dropped to the floor, and then an un-Godly, soul-withering slithering of inhuman feet as it dragged itself to my bed. Warm, fetid breath, redolent of rotting flesh caressed my face and pulled me from my fitful sinner’s dreams. I opened my eyes, and as they adjusted to the moonlit room, I saw creased and folded skin and pointed features and cold, piercing eyes.
"Boy," it said to me in a voice like shattered glass, "your parents didn't send you to Catholic school so you could fall asleep without finishing your prayers."
"No, Sister Agnes," I replied, my soul forsaken for all eternity.
Opening: Anonymous.....Continuation: Anonymous
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18 comments:
BEVERAGE ALERT! Thank God I'd just put mine down!
It's wordy and convoluted but it works to set a mood, a creepy mood too.
I wouldn't change it until I knew what was going on in the story. This gives no hint at the story. It could be a serial killer in a guilt attack or a high school boy masterbating in guilt, guilt, guilt, or an alcoholic trying to come to terms, or a drug addict, or maybe a crooked private eye lamenting his misdeeds... Any one of a number of things.
The opening isn't bad, but it seems to be trying too hard. This sentence in particular stood out to me:
My conscience became a part of the beast within my soul that continuously ate away at my being.
I had to read it a couple of times before I could make sense of it, but maybe that's just me.
The last sentence also needs some work. The dramatic pauses are fine, but don't finish with "indescribable". We're reading, we want you to describe it, or at least give us something to work with.
I understand the difficulty of setting scene, mood, character, and action in 150 words, so I don't expect all of that, but it could be toned down and given some teeth. Not bad, over all. I'd keep reading a bit longer.
My, my, my, my!
Okay, I got it after the first, "my."
What is the "thing?" Are you talking about the conscience, a sense of guilt?
Someone with that much guilt is not going to "try in vain to remember" their inequities, those are always going to be on the very surface of their existence. That they will die of their sins will always be something that bothers them, that they have tried to ignore.
Get rid of the clichés and cut to the chase. Watch word, phrase, or thought repetition or else you yourself will get lost.
I think this person might have a chink in their armor. I like it though.
This reminds me of baseball. Like, when a big slugger is up and you expect a home run but he ends up hitting a little chinker over the shortstop's head.
"My conscience became a part of the beast within my soul (so your conscience is eating you alive?) that continuously ate away at my being."
The only things truly indescribable are generated from within.
Suspense is good, horror is okay, but description is a must for a writer.
Otherwise you get someone else's continuation...
As Dave said, it is wordy and convoluted, and it does set a mood...but it didn't set a setting, and it completely turned me off. We need to visualize, feel, etc. Add some setting elements, don't just talk at the readers. Then, when you mention something came in the window, we know where we are and something of the situation.
Indescribable reminded me too much of Lovecraft, and why I went off reading him and took up with M.R. James.
I found myself getting impatient, and wondering what sort of sin(s) could be sufficient to justify this much of a buildup. It might be better not to find out, for fear of let-down.
I kind of agree with Dave, but I think it's too wordy and convoluted. It's trying too hard. Relax. Also, seeing comma splices in the first paragraph is always a worrying sign ("Once again I fell asleep praying, I know this because I never said amen")
Very Lovecraftian.
It should probably be embarassing to say I've never heard of Lovecraft. But, even more embarassing that I'm not sure how to spell "embarassing". -Author
Author: its i'm-bar-racing.
What?! Don't tell me, none of you people done that! Oh, never mind.
Party poopers... Just a sec... How do you spell that...
Erosion. I know it makes sence, in your description, yet it makes me think of a gynocological problems. Or hogrycultural. Let's just hope, it's just me, ok?
You're nuts, eunuch. Oh, wait . . . -JTC
Yeah, yeah, JTC. I heart u 2.
Nevertheless, I refuse to be associated with nuts. Allergies, and all... Kis, on the other hand.
Wait, she's dangerous. Forget I said anything.
Oh, and author, I know how you feel. Yanno, about the THING. I find it hovering over my bed, on dayly basis.
Oh, and author, I know how you feel. Yanno, about the THING. I find it hovering over my bed, on dayly basis.
Heheh. That's funny coming from a eunuch....
Gutterball, that hurt.
I'm still searching for fiber, btw.
Yeah, eunuch... I hear there's fiber in Berlin, just growing on the tree.
Fetch, boy!
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