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Friday, May 18, 2012

Info Post
   John Ramsey Miller


MISSING PIECES

It was dark in the room, barely lit by the porch light filtering through red bedroom curtains, so Max was further stunned when he realized that a banging on his front door is what actually startled him awake. Who on Earth could be here at...4:17am? He attempted staying as still as possible, hoping the visitor had yet to hear anything from within. I mean really, it could be anybody! Anything!

Max peered through darkness of the bedroom doorway and into the corner of the living room. He attempted leaning over just enough to view the vehicle of the unwanted visitorrealizing they probably parked on the opposite side. Max didn't receive visitors often.

Three more alarming strikes against the metal screen door that never closed quite correctly, clanging incessantly through his head. He could hear a voice, but the sound of that CLANG-CLANG-CLANG! was overwhelming his every thought, seeming to fill every corner of his mind and soul. 

"--please, Max, just answer the door! It's Jill, just open the damn door already!" Oh. It sounds like my sister. Well, it could be my sister. He began feeling frantic, unsure who or what to believe anymore. Lately, people were no longer who they said there were. He knew how crazy it sounded in his mind and tried keeping these sort of ideas to himself, but it was getting more and more difficult by the day, yet he knew beyond a doubt it was Truth.

Max gradually stood up straight without moving his feet, worried the creaking of his knees was as loud as it seemed. He slowly took a step toward the door, thinking he could possibly escape to the back of the house, but instead slipping on one of his countless piles of notebooks. The entire pile fell to the floor, scantly missing another larger pile.

"Max, I can hear you in there, will you please just talk to me? You've got to talk to somebody. We used to talk so much." He knew that much was true, but wasn't sure if the Visitors could know so much.


Missing Pieces seems the perfect title for this submission. It's like the whole piece was a tissue left in a pocket and found after being run through the dryer. Now it's everywhere and yet nowhere.

First paragraph:
How can he be "more" stunned if he was sleeping and we didn't see him stunned the first time? I might do something like this, "It was dark, but no darker than it had been on other occasions in the dead of night. Thank God the porch light was on and illuminating the bedroom (?) through a curtain redly. THE CLOCK!!! Dear Lord is that the time???"  Or not.

So in reading this I'm not at all sure if it is dark or light? Is he is in bed or hanging from the ceiling? So... how does Max know what time it is? Wouldn't the clock light the room somewhat? Or did the mad hatter tell him what time it is? How does he move without lifting his feet? When did he get out of bed? Did he leave the bed or is he astro-traveling? He is looking out of windows without getting out of bed!  Is the driveway empty?

Okay, author.  First of all, put yourself in Max's house and maybe even in his bedroom. Imagine what is happening and what the reader is seeing, as you tell the story and slow down. Allow Max to actually do things as he goes from point A to... well you get the drift. Here is Max and this is what he'd doing. Don't jump from his mind to the voice at the door. Is this about Max's insanity? Or is everybody else is insane? Is this about Pod people? Would I read deeper into this? Of course I would. It's hilarious. It isn't very good, but I think it could be if it is fully thought through before being committed to paper.

For God's sake go back and try again. And then you may have to try again after that. This can take years and hard work. This is a tough line of work and the righter you do it, the harder it is.  Think hard before you write. Remember: if this is easy you are doing it wrong. "See" what you are saying. Don't write what you have not seen like it actually happened. Tell me what you are seeing and feeling and smelling and tasting.  Put me there. You may know what Max is thinking, feeling, doing, but I have to know what you know and see what you are seeing. Otherwise you are just playing at lining up words. I got nothing from reading this opening that I'm curious enough about to justify investing more time.

When I write, I am almost telling myself a story and typing it as I go. But I only write after I have thought all the way around and through the scene. In my opinion (and that is all it is) this piece is more sloppy scribbling than storytelling.

So go back at it and don't quit if you know you can do better. If you don't think you can, then get out now.

Please, for Christ's sake... take the narration away from Max before he hurts someone and give it to his sister... At least she's safely outside the house.

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