A story I wrote.

MrIamMe

Hey guys.

Was cleaning out old files yesterday and came across this story I wrote a long time ago. I kind of like it.




Pain. I don't know where I stop and the pain begins. It caresses my senses like a velvet glove - its almost seductive in its pervasiveness. My eyes snap open and realisation hit me - I had been shot, and one of my lungs wasn't responding to my ragged breathing.

Where am I? My vision clears and reality hits me like a brick, contrasting with the pain and sparking a burst of adrenaline. Living room. Window, with small hole. They had fired through the window. The enemy is outside. How many?

A cough of blood snapped me back into reality from my strangely analytical thought process - move or die. Move. Back entrance is no doubt being watched. Windows too. Only one option - front door, hope they didn't expect it. Who? How many? Why?

Car keys, next to the front door. I pray that the electronic key will open the car from here. I can't see outside, no windows. I look through the peephole, and can see the car on the street. I push the unlock button, hoping to see the reassuring flash of indicator lights.

The explosion lights up the night sky. A trap. My only avenue of escape gone. They must have watched me - know I almost never use the button. The bomb was meant to finish me off. Should have gotten that phone line installed. Shouldn't have dropped my mobile today. Shoulda, woulda, coulda. Dead. They can finish me and be gone before the police get here.

Footsteps on the gravel leading to the door. Despair. Pain. Blackness.

bsjezz

Pain doesn't caress senses, especially not 'like a velvet glove.'

There's really very little to this. It's an overused scene told in a routine way. Almost all of these "I'm shot and I die" stories descend into sentence fragments, as does this one. I don't know why, it's a question for the ages.

Why don't you write about something you know? I'm assuming you don't really know all that much about dying, and I'm hoping you don't know a lot about car-bombs. Talk about things that you find interesting or challenging or magical on a day-to-day basis and you'll be able to engage our interest, too. This is like "the first high-concept thing I can think of writing about even though it's not an experience me or any of my readers can relate to in any way."

MrIamMe

Its meant to be a short scene, and thats all it is. Its not meant to be deep and meaningful.

Also, Ive been shot, and you do think like that.

Iriah

This is not a story. There's nothing but a bunch of cliched sentence fragments to critique here.

Is there any more?

Uncle Long

This isn't too bad, actually. You seem to get over your almost idiomatic similes in the first few paragraphs. The initial paragraph, I think, was meant to give the reader the sense of quiet and peace that happens after a heavy explosion where nothing can be heard but the ringing in your ears, but, to be honest, it comes off as 16 year old emo-poet's constant and over-indulgent theme. I see what you're doing, but you need to do it better. The rest of the piece goes at a nice pace for the situation which is a good. Keep that pacing the entire time.

This isn't particularly good, but it isn't pure shit either. (a dry shit sandwich, as opposed to a soggy shit sandwich).

You need to stop intermixing narration with flow of consciousness. When you say "only one option," my toes curl in anticipatory anger. You can't tell the reader what you're doing and maintain the proper tone for what you're doing. Every time you narrate to the reader you're putting a speed bump in a scene that requires speed above all else (not including good writing; good writing above all else).

As someone else said, it is cliche, but, that doesn't mean you can't write it out and learn something from it. Not everything a good writer writes is going to be published.

robotbebop

Pain. I don't know where I stop and the pain begins. It caresses my senses like a velvet glove -

I stopped reading after this. Way too well, fancy-pants. I'd say Purple or Flowery but I'm still kinda fuzzy on what constitutes either, but when I read stuff like that I just go "ugh" and close the thread, or reply to it.

My preference is writing that is clear yet still not a laundry list. I think that's a pretty basic preference. Prose is brutally hard to pull off well. For a good example read the Dune books. Herbert's writing is prose but it's the perfect middle-ground between flowery and dry.

If you want to see dry, read Arthur C. Clarke. I really like dry, I'm a dry kind of guy.

EDIT: (other changes for clarity) I've also watched enough anime that angsty writing just turns me off outright unless it's firmly based on strong characters that you understand and identify with, I hate characters that are just generically bitter, angst-y, etc. Not to say that your's is any of these (although by reading the first line I'm very suspicious.)

Revolutionary

I must be negative about this; it seems like a couple of short phrases. It sounds like a man suffering from paranoia is writing it; however that is good in this context. I can imagine someone being shot and their eyes darting around trying to make sense of it all; but too many fragments.

But it looks like you were trying to capture the hectic moment of confusion after the initial shot - at least you knew what you were aiming for.