Subject: [FFML] Re: (R.5) Brutal Truth REAL version.
From: allyn yonge
Date: 12/14/2000, 4:30 PM
To: Mad Hamlet , ffml@fanfic.com

-My comments @@

As always, its only MY

opinion. If I say something

that makes sense to you, great.

Otherwise, hit delete and move

on. 



[side note:: I make these disclaimers

because some people have gotten upset

with my C&C. I really can't blame them.

I've told them their baby is not only ugly,

it's dead. ^_^ BUT . . .that's just MY 

opinion. I don't like Stephen King or

Heavy Metal, other people do. Not

right or wrong, just different taste]













-- Mad Hamlet <mad-hamlet@usa.net> wrote:

Greetings,

     Damn, damn, damn.

I HATE it when I do that. I posted the WRONG

version. A rough draft not a

proofread one. Sorry about that. I think I got most

of the blatent mistakes

but if anything really bad jumps out at ya and

bites, just blame me. C and C

is always welcome, if somewhat painful.

I remain, as always

               Mad-Hamlet



@@Bad, Bad Hamlet. 







Disclaimer: I disavow, deny, disclaim, disbelieve

and dismiss any and all

things pertaining to that ugly phenomenon known as

'reality'.



@@C'mon now. Give credit where credit is due.

THEN get creative. ^_*





Drain Bramaged Inc. Proudly Presents,

               A Mad-Hamlet Production...





			                Brutal Truth



	She sat sitting across from me at our regular

table. The bar was your

standard one, dark, cozy, and a murmur of collected

conversations gathering

into the background to create an ever-present buzz.

It wasn't bad enough to

attract the wrong crowd, nor was it good enough to

overcharge for watered down

drinks. Add that to the fact it was within walking

distance of where we both

lived and it quickly became our little home away

from home.



@@Not bad, in a 1930's Hard-Boiled-Detective

sort of way. (I am now anticipating a fat man looking

for the "stuff dreams are made of."





	Right now though, I wanted nothing more than to get

her away from our hang

out and back to her actual home. She always got like

this around this time of

year. Every spring, just when the grey skies of

March gave way to April, she'd

go all to pieces. 

	Her hair hung listlessly, unwashed, unkempt. The

black gleam had been covered

by grime, grease and dust. Misplaced locks hung in

front of her eyes but they

were so clouded over with the effects of alcohol I

doubt she'd have noticed

the second coming, much less stray hair. She huddled

over her drink, almost

protectively then with a lurch held it out at arms

length and with a loud

exclamation of "Too duty!" downed it.

Just like the five before it, and the ten the night

before, and the seven the

night before that. Just like she had, these same

three days as long as I had

known her.

And she never, not once, had ever said anything

about it.



@@Yep, definitely  Marlow time. (Or should

I be looking for Callhan behind the bar?



	I met her six years ago when she arrived in San

Francisco from Japan. I

myself had just finished my schooling and was

teaching English as a second

language. While her English was passable there was a

lot of rough edges to be

refined. I picked up pretty quick that she was

different from the majority of

my students. While most did study and concentrate on

whatever task I had for

them, she seemed to cling to every lesson with

desperation. After a few weeks

of regular lessons, twice a week, she came to me to

inquire about the

possibility of private tutoring. Normally my

reaction was to politely decline

as I had more then enough on my table already but

she seemed quite earnest

and, she was an excellent student. If you ask any

teacher worth their salt

they'll tell you what they love most is an eager

student. I was no exception

so I agreed.



@@OK, a problem with first person narrative like

this . . .it's static. You started off fine, but it's

starting

to drag, just a tad. Either cut it down to speed it

up, OR

jazz it up a little. I don't do first person, but I'll

make a 

couple of suggestions. JUST as examples of what I'm 

talking about.



EXAMPLE (for purposes of illustration ONLY)



I met her six years ago, fresh off the plane from

Japan.  I'd just finished my schooling and was 

teaching

 English as a second  language to a half dozen

illegals,

three chemists from Kuzbeckistan and a former

President of an emerging African nation who'd left

office one bullet ahead of a firing squad.



 Her understanding wasn't bad, but her spoken

English was rougher than the engine of my

^�64 Dodge Dart.



@@NOT the only way to do this, but I'm adding

a few "additions" that liven up the

narrative and "flesh out" the world you're 

describing. (BTW, MY wife teaches ESL, I'm

just using some of her classes in this story) Draw

on real life (yours, a friend, something you've read

about) as much as possible. Don't re-invent the wheel.



I also like to use comparison.



Not::

 "she seemed to cling to every lesson with

 desperation"



[she seemed to] is too passive, too far removed

in time. You want IMMEDIATE. 



She _clung_ to

She clutched at

She grabbed

She snatched



She grabbed at my lessons like they were the last

lifeboat

off the Titanic.



She snatched my lessons like they were the last square

meal before Donner Pass.



Make it immediate.

SHOW the desperation. Don't just tell me

she's desperate. I want to see the flop sweat.

Show me the wide eyes, the trembling hands,

the knot in her stomach that makes her throw

up every morning and every night until

there's nothing left to come up but old blood

the colour of coffee grounds. 



MAKE me feel her desperation to the point

I want to scream, to release the tension.







	For the first few weeks our meetings were quite

what you would expect between

a student and a teacher; but as the time passed our

lessons began to edge away

from just simple instruction and repetition

involving vocabulary and grammar.

We began to have real conversations, talking about

ourselves, where we were in

our lives and where we were going. I learned that

she was majoring in acting

and hoped to go onto theatre. I told her of my own

plans to hopefully open my

own language school one day. We discussed ethics,

the latest news and, more

than once, our conversations continued well past the

scheduled lesson-time.

She never talked about her past much, except to say

that she had family back

in Japan that she didn't talk too very often save

her middle sister who she

chatted with over the phone from time to time. I

didn't pry much either seeing

no real point.



@@Too polite and bland.

Tease me a little. Give me some banter.

If HER life is a secret, then give me something

about him. And give us a little innuendo, a little

sexual

by-play. 



	Example::



	After the first week I found myself telling

her about more than English. I told her about my

father's 

death, my sisters suicide, my dream of opening my own

school someday. Things I'd never told anyone before.

And she listened, watching me with those deep

velvet eyes, but never telling me anything . . .Oh,

she'd

talk about school, about a movie she'd seen, a book

she'd read.

But nothing personal. Nothing--real.



@@You're giving me the facts, I want

the atmosphere.



Sit back, close your eyes and picture them.

is the room dark, light? Are they sitting in

chairs--across from each

other, next to each other? Does she bend over, to

point to a passage she

can't translate? Does her hair brush his arm? Does she

smell

of ivory soap and baby powder? What is she feeling?

Even if you don't want

to tell us WHAT or WHY, give us a better picture of

what's going on.



Have him notice she'd mended a tear in her coat, that

her shoes are scuffed.

Better if he notices something that the reader will

discover is significant later

in the story if possible. 



I know it may sound silly, but when you're doing a

first person

like this, especially when you can't blow something

up. ^_^

you've REALLY got to dig deep into the characters

emotions,

what they feel, HOW they feel, little details. smells,

sounds, memories.

That's why I blow things up. It's easier.

I do a lot of this stuff as well, but I break it up

with action because it

is VERY hard. to sustain it through an entire story. A

FIRST person story,

And a SHORT story . . .that's about the hardest kind

to write there is. 





	Things changed one night after we had had a

vigorous discussion regarding the

ethics of group religion versus singular worship.

She was gathering her things

to leave and I really didn't want the evening to

end. It had been a long time

since I had had a regular social life and I suddenly

had the urge to go out

and have a beer. Something I had not done since

leaving the university. I

casually asked her if she wanted to 'go and have a

drink.' 



@@Better. But make it more personal, more real.

Play with the punctuation. ^_^



Example::

	Things changed. We'd been having a vigerous

discussion about the ethical merits of polytheism

versus

monotheism . . .I called her an ignorant heathen, she

said

I was a Bigoted Baptist Bastard and clocked me on the

head

with an Annotated Whitkenstien (the 1921 original, not

the

crappy 1941 revised edition) and I suddenly didn't

want the

night to end. I didn't have a regular social life

(unless you count

pulling a hair out of your soup at Denny's "Social")

and I asked

her if she wanted to have some tea. She was Japanese,

after all.



	After I picked myself up off the floor, and two of

her went away,

the third one of her, that stayed behind, explained

that "have some tea" was 

a Japanese euphemism for "lets go have hot messy sex

you little slut"

As an ESL teacher, I'm always happy to increase my

knowledge. As a 

man--I was in a lot of pain.



(Obviously this doesn't fit with what follows. That's

OK, I'm just

trying to show how you can add little details, or just

change the punctuation

or word order, to liven things up. Make them more

immediate.

Give some depth.

Don't be so polite and correct. ^_*



	I had no idea what button I'd accidentally pushed

but it must have cut pretty

close to something nasty. For a minute she seemed

like she was going to bolt

out of my apartment, through the door if she had

too. Then her fear turned to

anger and I swear the temperature dropped several

degrees in the general area.

My mouth went on auto-pilot and blurted out,

"Platonic..platonic..platonic..only platonic."



@@Good. This is what I'm talking about.

Still a little stiff, but good.



	I entertain no delusions about my physical fitness.

I have none. I don't

exercise, I eat what I like and smoke. Just by the

way she held herself I

could tell she could wipe the floor with me and I

did not want that at all.

Pain and I have never really been too close. 



@@cute. good again.



	One of the exercises I drum into all my students is

the practice of 'the

eternal homework'. I encourage them that, whenever

and wherever, they come

across a word they do not know that they immediately

look it up in a

dictionary, write down the definition in their

mother-tongue, then the English

definition and write three sentences using the new

word. Not many stick with

it very long but she was, as I said, different. The

second I said 'platonic'

she whipped out an English-Japanese dictionary

automatically and looked it up.

I saw her lips move as she read the Japanese

equivalent and the subsequent

English definition. I was quite nervous as I was

pretty sure I would either be

having a cold beer in good company soon, or a closed

casket service.



@@LOL. Needs a bit of tweaking, but

funny. (I'd make it a little shorter, to

increase the punch) But it was funny.



<SNIP>



Overall:B





@@I'm getting tendinitis in my right hand from typing

so

I'll have to cut this short.

You got much better as the story went on. Still a

little

too bland over-all. IMO, I'd cut it by 500-1,000 words

to tighten things up.

Make every word count in terms of

conveying emotion. You're giving 

a lot of information but emotionally it's

bland.





There are quite a few spots where you seem to 

loosen up and it's quite funny or WAFFY.

And, there's certainly noting wrong

with your plotting or story-telling.

I just want MORE! Make me feel what's going

on. Don't just TELL me about emotions,

anguish, sadness . . .make me FEEL these

emotions. You can do it because you DID do it,

just not consistently. 



IMO, this read as a nice quite slice of life piece.

A pleasant read. It all depends on what you want

to do. IMO it can be punched up quite a bit, IF that's

what you want to do.



Remember, this is YOUR story. Write What you want to

read.

Write the story you want to write, the way you want to

write.







<SNIP>

	This fic was a blast to write because, as

mentioned, it just sorta popped up

in my mind last night and practically wrote itself.

A wonderful, wonderful

experience.



@@The best way to write.

And a superb job for a once-through

writing.







 If reading it was even somewhat similar

I'd love to hear about

it.

	<SNIP>



@@Nice slice of life.

I rather figured it was you, but

as an SI, it was deftly done. There

are now THREE SI's that's I've read

and liked. (Most I delete within the

first paragraph)





	







=====

"When I get a little money, I buy books;

 And, if any is left, I buy food and clothes."-Erasmus



"A man is a small thing, and the night is large 

and full of wonders." -Lord Dunsany



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