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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Dec 2, 2010 17:11:44 GMT -5
Drally <3 Thank you, hun!
Those dots are called eclipses ... but yeah, you might be right. The only reason I didn't use eclipses in this case was because some questions (dunno about America here but the British do it) are simply "is it?" Its like the unasked question. Without asking the full question the thing in question does not exist. It is not real. Usually used in fearful situations.
Grammatically it might be correct to use eclipses. I'm not 100% sure.
{EDIT: Oh, and I purposely had the dialogue short. Kevin was awkwardly filling silences. The girl did not actually speak much until the last line. It was planned.}
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Post by James on Dec 2, 2010 17:11:57 GMT -5
Like I've said to you already, Reffy. I really enjoyed this, both the flash fiction and the story. I preferred the latter, because the emotion really began to shine through. And the language and writing was strong at capturing the depression and just the sense of giving up.
Three things, I just want to comment on though.
Was the capitalisation of 'world' on purpose? Because, world doesn't need a capital normally and you kept on giving it one.
I felt it was a bit odd that she thought about her family after the harness broke and she was hanging onto dear life. It kind of broke the suspense and tension a little of wondering whether she will let go or not, I would have maybe had that background part while she was hanging still in the harness.
Finally, if she let go willingly, and was basically committing suicide, the catch me, God part just felt a little weird. It almost came off as if she didn't actually want to let go... which might have been your intention.
Anyway, excellent work, Reffy. It was superb.
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Dec 2, 2010 17:24:43 GMT -5
Thankies, Agro! :]
I didn't know about "world" and the CAPS thing. Its always been an automatic thing for me.
Breaking the tension: I felt it a good time to use the history and build on why she felt the way she did. All of the time she was inside the harness she was hoping for rescue - that could have come! Once the harness gave way it was like she gave up. As you saw in the Flash; it was a change of thoughts. The two positions, hope and surrender were connected.
We spoke further about the last comment and I see where you are coming from. There is a difference between the two (Flash and Short) but I hoped there wouldn't be. I did have all of those thoughts in mind when I wrote the Flash but not enough words to explain that she was letting go and that it felt right to do so.
The story was designed around the last line ... even if the thoughts/history were not in both.
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Post by Meleta/Isoldaa on Dec 2, 2010 19:46:14 GMT -5
THANK YOU, Mel and Jack. If only you guys could see my grin right now ;D The story is a bit sloppy. I noticed some grammar mistakes last night before bed >.> But that you guys actually "loved" it ... dayum XD *cheesy grin* We didn't " love" it. We loved it  No ifs or butts about it. It's an incredibly entertaining read, and if there were grammar mistakes I didn't notice them. Besides, as I told you, I tend to focus more on the flow of the read, the plot, the viewpoints, the ideas, instead of technicalities. And I think it's definitely awesome in those aspects. Oh, it wasn't as if I didn't notice the grammar/word choice mistakes - I did. But I deliberately read it to see what "flesh you put on the bones," so to speak. No worries hon, my inner editor never sleeps - and she's a ruthless, merciless b*tch... XD And I do think, if you wanted to pare that short story down even more, you really could in certain spots. You could even make it into a flash fiction - or damn near (1k word cap, if it's not already). Just let me know if you're interested.  |
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Jackal
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Warning: I don't bite, but I do make horrible puns.
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Post by Jackal on Dec 2, 2010 23:12:30 GMT -5
We didn't " love" it. We loved it No ifs or butts about it. It's an incredibly entertaining read, and if there were grammar mistakes I didn't notice them. Besides, as I told you, I tend to focus more on the flow of the read, the plot, the viewpoints, the ideas, instead of technicalities. And I think it's definitely awesome in those aspects. Oh, it wasn't as if I didn't notice the grammar/word choice mistakes - I did. But I deliberately read it to see what "flesh you put on the bones," so to speak. No worries hon, my inner editor never sleeps - and she's a ruthless, merciless b*tch... XD And I do think, if you wanted to pare that short story down even more, you really could in certain spots. You could even make it into a flash fiction - or damn near (1k word cap, if it's not already). Just let me know if you're interested. Was talking about myself I tend not to notice stuff like that. That's why I'm not good at reviewing things - technical details usually go out the window. |
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Dec 3, 2010 6:02:21 GMT -5
I probably could murder it down to just under 1k and keep it as a Flash ... but I was actually aiming to go as high with the word count as possible. Thank you, Meleta :]
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Jan 17, 2011 14:21:48 GMT -5
((Boredom killer! I was actually eating the ice-cream while writing >.> ))
Ben & Jerry’s: Cookie Dough
Teasingly I twist the lid off. The frosted sides of the tub turn in to cold water that trickles over my hand and into my sleeve. The top is reluctant to come away but I take my time as I wriggle in to my seat, spoon not far away. Fingers tweak the edges of the cardboard lid. Snippets of irritation and impatience wisp along my arms, hands, and finally fingers but I do not rush or get frustrated. It is all part of the enjoyment. With a “shlooop” the lid comes off to reveal the creamy white ice-cream, dotted with chunks of beige cookie dough and small pieces of dark brown chocolate.
Before grabbing my weapon of choice, the spoon, a smile climbs on to my face. I pick it up, the metal slippery in my wet hand. Gently I use the pointed tip just around the edge of the tub to scoop up a little of the ice-cream. The smile increases as the ice-cream curls up on the end of the spoon like the commercials. A shiver curls up and around my spine as a thought flutters through my mind: will it be just as tasty as I imagine it? The smile is temporarily displaced as I put the mildly loaded spoon into my mouth and seductively pull it out, following the curve of my tongue so I can capture every little bit.
I keep the ice-cream on my tongue to gradually melt, covering it with taste and coldness. The taste is so decadently sweet and rich. The melt leaves behind a small piece of the cookie dough and a bit of chocolate. Finally I swallow the vanilla cream and take my time to crunch up the dough and chocolate, savouring every last morsel; the sugary and slightly gritty feel to the dough and bitter taste the chocolate leaves behind.
The ice-cream in the tub is starting to melt but I do not care. The light catches the melted bits like glaciers between coarse creamy coloured mountains. My hands fidget with the tub to avoid melting it further as the coldness bites into my skin. I won’t eat it all in one sitting, I think as I dig the tip of the spoon in again for another small mouthful. To do so would be a crime! Ben and Jerry’s is to be enjoyed – slowly – mouthful by delicious mouthful. To wolf it down would be stupid.
It’s all in the ritual and the experience; in the taking time to simply enjoy.
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Jan 25, 2011 13:56:53 GMT -5
Been musing >.> Found this one rather ... I like it ... its amusing :]
Bodhi in a Biscuit Tin.
Oooo, chocolate chip cookies!
Ew! Currants.
Oooo, cookies!
Mm! Currants.
Which would you rather be?
Do you eat the cookie or the perception?
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Mena
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Post by Mena on Jan 25, 2011 14:30:05 GMT -5
I loved the Ben & Jerry's. Made me wanna run out and buy some.
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Jan 25, 2011 15:13:33 GMT -5
I loved the Ben & Jerry's. Made me wanna run out and buy some. Thankies, Mena! <3 Inspiration hit while I was messing/chatting with a friend about how I eat Ben and Jerry's. (The description was near erotic >.> heh) |
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Mena
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Post by Mena on Jan 25, 2011 16:10:13 GMT -5
Indeed. It can be, certain foods and the way we eat them. -nods-
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Feb 9, 2011 5:45:49 GMT -5
Tea (Fourth rework!)
The kettle clicked off. Mary hesitated. "I have cancer."
The world stopped. Sarah stirred the tea, numbly, eyes unfixed. Silence was bullied by the sound of the spoon clinking. “How bad?"
"Not sure," barely a whisper.
The World started again as tears fled. Sarah gave up on the tea.
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Feb 9, 2011 5:47:19 GMT -5
Old Age (Originally written for Devotion topic: Confusion)
“What’s the time?”
I glance at my watch for the sixth time this hour, ignoring the irritation, “Five-fifty.”
Mum scribbles it on a note-pad that is impersonating art from the Tate. So many notes have been made and forgotten. “Oh,” she mumbles.
Her memory and sanity is fleeing and in its wake it leaves only confusion. It’s weird to see her in this state; heartbreaking. She’s the wisest person I know ... or was. In her prime she knew five different languages and could beat professors on their own topics while running a busy household. She was my rock ... and now I am hers.
“Want another hot drink?” I ask quietly, barely able to pull out of my memories and sorrow.
“Yes, please. What’s the time, dear?”
I wish there was something more I could do than be the clock that tracks her dissolving. I want to catch those memories and keep them in a jar; to flutter around like a butterfly, completely safe and dazzlingly beautiful.
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Feb 9, 2011 5:48:42 GMT -5
Childhood (Originally written for deleted Devotion topic "Lie")
“What have you got there?” Annie pestered.
Nick had been playing with something in the far corner of the garden. He’d been making a big song and dance about something. As usually his excitement had piqued Annie’s interest, as he had hoped it would. He’d giggled and squealed with delight, and even pretend to keep his back to her in the usual childish way.
“Not telling,” was his short reply.
“But you have something in your hands! Show me?” ever persistent Annie continued.
“No. You don’t want it.” Nick shuffled away like a crab would as he balanced on his feet with his muddy knees pointed upwards to the clear blue sky.
“I do! Just give it me ...”
Nick grinned. The bait had been taken. “You want it?” He turned and stood so he could face Annie. She was nearly half a metre shorter than her brother and it showed as he attempted to blot out the sun. His hands were clasped before his chest with whatever he had been playing with. “Have it!” He threw it at Annie and then ran away laughing.
Annie didn’t have enough time to react before she realised what it was ... and Nick’s singing shouts confirmed the matter. “Spider! Spider! Annie’s got a spider! Big fat hairy spider!”
She’d seen a black thing flung at her but not where it had landed. She turned and spun again in frantic panic. Her small hands pushed over pale yellow dress in the hopes of knocking off the spider. A spider which was bound to be huge! No doubt with big eyes and disjointed legs! All the while she screamed loud enough to rival a fire engine. The tears were seconds late but stronger than a tsunami.
Eventually Annie found the “spider” ... it was nothing but a piece of black cotton Nick had pulled from his sweater but the fear was much more difficult to dispel. Feeling shaken she ran indoors to tell on her brother and his lie.
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Post by Jenny (Reffy) on Feb 9, 2011 5:51:40 GMT -5
Beraduf (Originally written for -but removed from- January's Flash assignment "Urban Fantasy")
“You see,” my attention stays fixed on the apparatus, pen shifting in my mouth as I chewed, “it’s not about finding the right materials – a few are extinct now, like Mermaid’s Purse – it’s about finding the working modern day replacement.”
Normally I wouldn’t chew my pen but both hands were occupied recalculating bronze beads on the abacus, which spanned the length of the hall and continued around the corner; beads further down moved with no human interaction. A faint and eerie clicking and sliding could be heard behind my incessant chattering. “It’s all about intention. If you hold the right intention you could---”
The kid shifted and interrupted. “Just hurry up already!”
Always impatient! The inner tyrant spouted. It was hard to silence the tyrant these days. (Just my luck being born with a Wizard’s soul ... one who refused to “follow the light.”) The kid had a point about urgency. He’d learnt that the world was about to end ... but, of course, it wasn’t. I would see to that minor problem; it was only a matter of calculations and reflection from the sun.
I let the pen fall to the floor, “Do you want my help or not?” A spineless threat – I would stop the comet.
He’s marked the carpet with his muddy boots! The inner tyrant joined the irritation again. There wasn’t much I could do about the location of the abacus being below the city and through mucky pipes!
“Yea! Just get on with it!”
Eyes rolling with utter discontent for the kid, I pushed the last bead along the thin wire. “Done.”
“That’s it?” He sounded sceptical.
“Do you have any idea what I just did? And of the consequences?” The inner tyrant took over. I knew this was coming but had hoped to avoid it. My voice continued an octave deeper, with emphasis on pronunciation, “I moved earth momentarily for a grimy, unintelligent nobody! Saved the world from a comet that would have spelt doom for humanity! And you have the gall to question it? Question My Genius? The Great Beraduf!”
I always hated it when the old man took over because it left tobacco taste in my mouth and it wasn’t right him being in my female body; I felt invaded and molested, instantly.
A sigh: when Beraduf leaves, I think a long shower is in order, to remove the feeling.
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No ifs or butts about it. It's an incredibly entertaining read, and if there were grammar mistakes I didn't notice them. Besides, as I told you, I tend to focus more on the flow of the read, the plot, the viewpoints, the ideas, instead of technicalities. And I think it's definitely awesome in those aspects. 
