#1
c4c. If I owe you, leave me a link here... I can't remember who I've done and who I haven't. Let me know, and I will get to you. Oh, and this is more real than I care to admit.


"This here is a picture of my grandson Jim, and this one is Emi..." Tuning people out is a talent one gains while taking a bus across the country. I found myself riding another Greyhound, shackled to another old woman with a life-story I cared nothing about. As cliché as it sounds, I just wanted to go home.

"... Jonathon got third place in the spelling bee for all of Mississippi."

"ALRIGHT. Look Grandma, first off... third place in Mississippi is the equivalent of last place in any other state, there are only three kids who are god-damned literate. And to be perfectly frank, I don't give a shit about your kids. I'm on my way back from California, to Kentucky because my girlfriend, whom I just rode all the way to California to live with has been pantomiming going through the motions. She decided we'd been seeing each other so often; once a fucking month; that she didn't feel like she was ever alone enough to actually miss me and she had lost the spark. She compared us to a misfiring engine... we have the capability to work, we just don't. So now I'm broke, homeless since I sold my home to live with her, and on the verge of killing myself and if you mention one more thing about some damn grandkid... I swear to God..."

She shifted her gaze stoically from the picture roll unfolding from her pocket book to the ground. "Anything else you'd like to get off your chest?"

I finally caught her glance, eye to eye. I hate to say that I had a moment with an eighty year old woman, but I did. Her hollow eyes enveloped me, swallowed my emotions. For the first time in fifteen years, tears. My head fell to her flannel covered shoulder and she wrapper her arm around me, "God told me that some son-uva-bitch would need me someday... always thought it was my husband."

I lost myself in a flannel frock, she found herself in consoling the lost. Both got what we needed.
#2
Aww. This is sweet, and sad. And strangely comforting.
All I'd do is change 'whilst' to 'while' (it feels out of place)
and I'd find a way to fit the bracketed part into the section without brackets - I assume he is angry and it felt to me like he was yelling. That put me off.

Your placement of 'stoically' is absolutely perfect.

^_^ Nice job.
O! music: Click (Youtube)


^ Click to see an acoustic arrangement of Ke$ha's 'Your Love is my Drug' - everyone's favourite song.
#3
I've never been a huge fan of flash-prose, but this was effective enough. Not exactly life altering, but the characters seemed genuine, and the emotion was there. It still seemed to lack something, though. Maybe it simply felt too confessional. Not sure. Anyway... good effort, I enjoyed the read.
I owe a ton of people critiques.

If you're one of them, please PM me.

I have trouble keeping track.
#4
I really liked it.It is totally opposite of what i posted few days ago . Unlike mine it had some genuine emotions. The mixing of two tones was nice . It worked in most of the places but transition to it seemed little out of place to me. Like when the below bit came

She shifted her gaze stoically from the picture roll unfolding from her pocket book to the ground.


Other than that really nice job . I'm srry for my lame comment.
Hi
#7
I'm actually going to go ahead and disagree with the general take-out-the-brackets! thread of thought. Rules always have exceptions, and I think it's excusably used here. Besides, if Shakespeare did it, it must be okay
I owe a ton of people critiques.

If you're one of them, please PM me.

I have trouble keeping track.
#8
ughh. *barfs* i don't like the word "whilst," lol.
1st place/last place comparison = hilarious.

...

i'm just gonna go ahead and say my feelings:
this was outstanding Zach. it's quite the breath of fresh air compared to your more recent works, no offense. this just seems like more of a step in the right direction. good work bud.

i know i'm a bit late on the crit, sorry.

btw, thank you for you words on my last.
There's a road that leads to the end of all suffering. You should take it.


- Jericho Caine


secret, aaaaagent maaan.
secret, aaaaagent maaan.
#9

Quote by ZanasCross
c4c. If I owe you, leave me a link here... I can't remember who I've done and who I haven't. Let me know, and I will get to you. Oh, and this is more real than I care to admit.


"This here is a picture of my grandson Jim, and this one is Emi..." Tuning people out is a talent one gains while taking a bus across the country. I found myself upon another Greyhound, shackled to another old woman with a life-story I cared nothing about. As cliché as it sounds, I just wanted to go home.
i didn't like 'upon' it feels too... either formal or fairy tale, i can't decide. love the last sentence.

"... Jonathon got third place in the spelling bee for all of Mississippi."

"ALRIGHT. Look Grandma, first off... third place in Mississippi is the equivalent of last place in any other state, there are only three kids who are god-damned literate. And to be perfectly frank, I don't give a shit about your kids. I'm on my way back from California, to Kentucky... ok, i'm normally a huge fan of ellipses(pretty obviously...) but i didn't like them here. that kind of pause seems awkward in the sentence, especially because its spoken. because my girlfriend, whom I just rode all the way to California to live with has been pantomiming going through the motions. She decided we'd been seeing each other too often; once a fucking month, that she didn't feel like she was ever alone enough to actually miss me, so i re-read this sentence like 48 times, and i'm still not sure what's going on. is the once a month too often? is the once a month how often she doesnt feel alone enough? why the fuck am i so confused right now?? and she had lost the spark. She compared us to a misfiring engine... we have the capability to work, we just don't. So now I'm broke, homeless since I sold my home to live with her, and on the verge of killing myselfcomma and if you mention one more thing about some damn grandkid... I swear to God..."

She shifted her gaze stoically from the picture roll unfolding from her pocket book to the ground. "Anything else you'd like to get off your chest?"

I finally caught her glance, eye to eye. I hate to say that I had a moment with an eighty year old woman, but I did. Her hollow eyes enveloped me, swallowed my emotions and for the first time in fifteen years, tears. the way you have the punctuation in this sentence makes it read like 'and tears' is a continuation of 'swallowed my emotions.' maybe a full stop after emotions? or a semi-colon?My head fell to her flannel covered shoulder and she wrapper her arm around me, "God told me that some son-uva-bitch would need me someday... always thought it was my husband." More tears.

I lost myself in a flannel frock, she found herself in consoling the lost. Both got what we needed.

me likey, zachy. me likey zachy. hehe. me so clever.
when birds flap their wings do the make believe they're really arms?
#10
alright, here's the deal brosef, you got emotion and you got a story but (in my opinion) these two dont go to each other. The dialogue seems so perfectly stated (and because there is very little substance in this piece aside from the dialogue this is amplifyed) and contrived, like no one would ever systematically rant like that to a stranger and I don't believe her calm response. And I see how I could be completely wrong here but this unbelievability of dialogue and response makes it seem less like the emotion you are trying to let shine through and more like a stupid, fictional piece of prose you wrote because you were bored. I dont know if that makes sense, I'm exhausted.

I do know that I would have been much more impacted by this if you or I was really a part of it. You may say "lol Dylan, I was a part of it, I wrote it in first person lol." However, listen to this section: "Tuning people out is a talent one gains while taking a bus across the country. I found myself upon another Greyhound, shackled to another old woman with a life-story I cared nothing about." Right here, in the first damn stanza you are setting up an air of indifference which undercuts the build to the climax of the piece. You detach yourself from the story, talking out of the moment, and that screws over my perception of the rest. If you don't care enough about the story to really write yourself in it, completely engaged, non-metacritical, and living, then why should I?

Oh, and write in the present tense here, it would work much better and would help loads with the detachment issue.

The second half was a thousand times better than the first, but you still include detached awkward asides (More tears.) that just take me out of the experience and ruin the piece for me.

Post here or PM me if you have any questions, as I said, I'm exhausted and may have said something that I didn't make clear or entirely mean how I said it.

Zack.

if you see something that I post can you check it out?
#11
Thanks Dylan. I think I followed most of it. And the first stanza was mainly there to set up the character. The fact the he is edgy and generally detached from his own life but on the edge of exploding.

And yeah, I should write in present tense, but I find it ridiculously difficult to do so. I tried on this one... and by the end of a stanza I had a headache. So I just switched.
#12
The reason I hadn't left any further comment on this was because the rant in the middle made me despise the narrator, and that was just going to blur my opinnions on the rest of the piece. I don't know if this means it was good characterisation or not, but because the rant was so strong the ending seemed to very weak, again like you had just set up for it. It doesn't really develo, it goes ANGRY>NOT very quickly and for little developed reason, which then seemed to make the character one-dimensional.

I agree that it should be in the present tense, it would work much better. There are detached lines in there that distance the reader and present tense should solve that issue mostly. And uses of "one" and "upon" irritated the **** out of me.

And I know that you very subtly emphasised in my thread the FUN aspect, but after your intro I chose to ignore this.


You've got some cool wit in there, though, and the writing is far from average - it's good for what it is, but for me personally it wasn't a lot. If you get what I mean ?

<3
#13
I really liked this. Really . Not much more to say than that. Great emotion, great style.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#14
I always love reading your stories and I liked this especially the little rant. The only thing that stuck out to me was the "pantomiming". It justt doesn't seem like a person would say when they're yelling at someone.
#15
"and the writing is far from average"

whats your measuring stick?

[Nota Bene: not saying it isnt, because I believe it very well may be, but I'm curious what he's comparing it to]
#18
Quote by ZanasCross
c4c. If I owe you, leave me a link here... I can't remember who I've done and who I haven't. Let me know, and I will get to you. Oh, and this is more real than I care to admit.


"This here is a picture of my grandson Jim, and this one is Emi..." Tuning people out is a talent one gains while taking a bus across the country. I found myself riding another Greyhound, shackled to another old woman with a life-story I cared nothing about. As cliché as it sounds, I just wanted to go home.

Nicely done fella, this is one of the most impactful stanzas I've ever read from you, which Isn't saying much .

"... Jonathon got third place in the spelling bee for all of Mississippi."

"ALRIGHT. Look Grandma, first off... third place in Mississippi is the equivalent of last place in any other state, there are only three kids who are god-damned literate. And to be perfectly frank, I don't give a shit about your kids. I'm on my way back from California, to Kentucky because my girlfriend, whom I just rode all the way to California to live with has been pantomiming going through the motions. She decided we'd been seeing each other so often; once a fucking month; that she didn't feel like she was ever alone enough to actually miss me and she had lost the spark. She compared us to a misfiring engine... we have the capability to work, we just don't. So now I'm broke, homeless since I sold my home to live with her, and on the verge of killing myself and if you mention one more thing about some damn grandkid... I swear to God..."

"God-damned" felt forced and unneccessary, as well as the shit.
"On the verge of killing myself" should be rewritten.

She shifted her gaze stoically from the picture roll unfolding from her pocket book to the ground. "Anything else you'd like to get off your chest?"

Stoically is too much of a stressed word, it ruins the flow. The "you'd" was an excellent contraction made an excellent syntax.

I finally caught her glance, eye to eye. I hate to say that I had a moment with an eighty year old woman, but I did. Her hollow eyes enveloped me, swallowed my emotions. For the first time in fifteen years, tears. My head fell to her flannel covered shoulder and she wrapper her arm around me, "God told me that some son-uva-bitch would need me someday... always thought it was my husband."

"Emotions" was too bland. son-uva-bitch?

I lost myself in a flannel frock, she found herself in consoling the lost. Both got what we needed.

This didn't conclude this the way I think it should've.


Overall it was a good read and one of your best of your series of stuff posted recently.


Read this (If you haven't): https://www.ultimate-guitar.com/forum/showthread.php?t=872195
#19
Quote by ZanasCross
c4c. If I owe you, leave me a link here... I can't remember who I've done and who I haven't. Let me know, and I will get to you. Oh, and this is more real than I care to admit.


"This here is a picture of my grandson Jim, and this one is Emi..." Tuning people out is a talent one gains while taking a bus across the country. I found myself riding another Greyhound, shackled to another old woman with a life-story I cared nothing about. As cliché as it sounds, I just wanted to go home.

"... Jonathon got third place in the spelling bee for all of Mississippi."

I thought this was a good start to the piece, it introduces everything well, and begins developing character. The wording too is quite good.

"ALRIGHT. Look Grandma, first off... third place in Mississippi is the equivalent of last place in any other state, there are only three kids who are god-damned literate. And to be perfectly frank, I don't give a shit about your kids. I'm on my way back from California, to Kentucky because my girlfriend, whom I just rode all the way to California to live with has been pantomiming going through the motions. She decided we'd been seeing each other so often; once a fucking month; that she didn't feel like she was ever alone enough to actually miss me and she had lost the spark. She compared us to a misfiring engine... we have the capability to work, we just don't. So now I'm broke, homeless since I sold my home to live with her, and on the verge of killing myself and if you mention one more thing about some damn grandkid... I swear to God..."

Pretty emotional. Some of the lines didn't sit right with me just because they didn't feel as genuine as the rest, but it still hit the right spot.

She shifted her gaze stoically from the picture roll unfolding from her pocket book to the ground. "Anything else you'd like to get off your chest?"

Well done on this transition from an upset voice to a helping one.

I finally caught her glance, eye to eye. I hate to say that I had a moment with an eighty year old woman, but I did. Her hollow eyes enveloped me, swallowed my emotions. For the first time in fifteen years, tears. My head fell to her flannel covered shoulder and she wrapper her arm around me, "God told me that some son-uva-bitch would need me someday... always thought it was my husband."

This was even more emotional than the rant. It touched me, as it displays what I want more regularily in the world, which is people connecting with people. Too many people are way too introverted these days.

I lost myself in a flannel frock, she found herself in consoling the lost. Both got what we needed.


Good ending, it wasn't a big huge ending with fireworks going off and whatnot, it was humble. I like that in a piece, and it definitely suited this.


Overall, I don't see much I'd want changed. There are a few spots that aren't as spectacular as the rest, i.e.:

"God told me that some son-uva-bitch would need me someday... always thought it was my husband."

But it was all needed for the purpose of this little story. So I'd give this about 8.5/10, good work.

If you'd be so kind, I have a new piece up that I'd like some critique on. It's in my sig.