I thought about sharing another part of my story regarding the very big novel I'm making. My last post is more of a story that seems separate, but I assure you this piece here is also in the same world as that one.

Only that let's say my big novel is more the lines of story that only is as big as it's various unique characters.

Which is a lot, in turn is a big story. So, here it is. It's a small prologue that takes a different turn then the dark monologue I made in the earlier post.

Rather it's actually something a taste of the story about two individuals in a time and place of the setting that was actually the starting point of the beginning. The point I made this setting to begin the tale that goes back years and some years forward from the present. (Hope that didn't confuse you)

Though I wouldn't say this guy's Prologue would be "The Beginning", but here you go.

(To put on note, this really only a draft I made on the fly. With the fact that I also like changing up the writing style up, which what I'm also kinda doing with the whole story. Since I actually like descriptive writing more, but I get around to be versatile with my writing. So,I get really stingy with my own work on editing. So editing was a little light, but doable.)

(And if you like to be a critic I don't mind. Open input is welcomed.)


(The tab spacing in the conversation is to separate the two individuals if you wondering)





(As they say in the wonder and joy of what the city life says. What can the city life say? Well, what do I say....

The smell of smog and smug snakes rolling in the road. Stupid smells of the city with the air stinking up the area like the dump it only deems itself. Crawling in the empty streets late in the night with all kinds of serpents of the world. Cat daddies and there little kittys, big G’s and there homies. All dangers of the hood is what it could be.

Nah.

It’s what I see when you hear the sounds that make the difference between me and the stupid besides me.

Not making sense to you, huh. I get that, and I don’t care to explain.

I could say I’m just a wandering wind passing through your shoes. Just me and this one piece of the wind that comes two and two with each other. They say that what makes rain clouds are the mixture of warm and cold air coming together, right? Well, close to the point, but besides that what am I saying is this. In this mixture, well, I’m cold.

But, to get to the right point. I’m cold and “he’s” warm. We could say it’s all the difference that only matters, we are polar opposites. The air is either a hot oven in the desert or a taste of antarctica on your skin. But, together or what seems to counter each other is a me and “him”

And it rains. It pours just as it does in the beginnings of fall and spring. Cold and warm colliding into a whirlwind of possibility. That’s how it was when I think a bit about it. It was rather windy and raining around the early spring of 1998.




Howdy yall, howdy yall, and how are my slow pokes doing these days!?

Yeah, hey Matt sa-

No, no, no~ Not that way Pirate boy! You need to say, “Hey Matt! I’m doing great!” Not this!

What?

Look, look, at this! CD isn’t here, Jimbo isn’t here, Doctor Septer isn’t here, uhm Little Johnny and Pink Conny aren’t anywhere to be found in my radar, one eye!

Yeah, which is to say-

So where, my friend? My one eye friend, oh where oh where can my little fond friends could be. Cause look at me! I’m all alone, just me! Only me! What can I say the heat is getting to me. The heat of the moment! The wonderful joy of brain juice coming all up in my head! Boom! Bam!

….

AH! I just can’t take it! I mean we were all going to meet up here! I get up at four in the morning, go to my afternoon sessions in the park. Put up with some funny guys at the park which I was going to share with you guys. Go for a quick ride on the fun bike, while I eat of course! And this and that involving some traffic jams and an old school running from trouble after putting this old guy in a taxi though some hell, but it was a good piece of heaven for me!

….

I run of course, running like the good old doctor said to me. “Sonny boy, If there’s one piece of advice to keep living in life is it just that. You gotta run. Right, you heard me. Run. Run like the devil with no heels on boy. Cause death is not slow to catch you. Cause if you old and fat, then maybe you need to run. Right boy?”

Cause running, running! Just the nature of the beast inside me is reeling in the moment man! Cause it was INTENSE! Cause I was almost hit by that same taxi cab. Nothing serious...

Nah, man. Nah, nothing serious getting almost killed, right...

Yeah! But, I ran, right? I ran like that good doctor said to me and bags of bones hasn’t hit me yet. Nothing to get all worked up, but super worked up! The cars. Like a piece of metal coming so close ramming me up couldn’t make this day any better for me. Well, not for that nice little bike I had. But, now I’m serious, dude. What could I do, but run...

(Another smirk just as silent to remark the past he made. And more broken pieces of metal to make.)

Yeah, cause I was here to say-

(Matt and a the wall greeting each other. Fists meeting the wall with a bond ever closer than they could ever seem to share. One hit and another, just one thing the wall needed)

God Dammit Matt! The guys aren’t coming! They aren’t coming! They would have called, but you don’t have a damn phone for crying out loud!

…..(Matt and those small pats after another fist with the wall...)

Well, thats a bit of a downer...(SLOW PATS)

Heh. HA, ha, ahahahaha (And Matt finally loses it and the world still turns and the sky is blue and Matt is still Matt)

(I Think it’s time to go...)

Well, I guess it’s time to go! If it’s just us then maybe we can deal with just that, Pat! You can call it a lose. I call it “subsidising” the bussiness man! We aren’t losing the weight, man! We are losing dead weight! And I’m not saying those guys are pieces of dead meat, no, just that maybe it’s a sign. Yes, a sign from the man upstairs telling us something.

….

….

Yeah something that’s will make sense right till we get to old Mikey Powsers place, right?

Let’s just get there...

(And the world cheers and the wall rejoiced when the one and only Matt and his “friend” leave off into the “big apple”)

I have absolutely no idea what that just said.

As in, I wouldn't want to read this book, because I don't understand anything about the story, and it doesn't even seen to foreshadow any grand event. I'm not saying that the way you wrote it isn't superbly awesome, but it doesn't seem like something that would draw a reader in. It makes it seem like the entire book is just going to be the character rambling on about things nobody cares about.

It's a better start to a short story (or a short story itself) than a prologue to a book. I suggest you rethink it to something more understandable. IMO, a prologue should be short and concise, even if it doesn't directly relate to the story. It should draw the reader in and make them wonder about the story's future, but it shouldn't make them wonder whether the story is worth reading or not.

seem*

And please delete your doublepost with the broken image.

>>2>>2 Well, well, well. It's seems your opinion about the subject shakes your core person.

Well, I'll actually agree to many perspectives your criteria calls for. After all, it's no complex piece of work to know it's filled with rambles. Of course, the piece wasn't even involving anything to say about the "story" in general. Since really the story is what it is. People meeting people.

Well only that's what some would call it, but it's the fact each individual is a story. Walking pieces of words regarding the past, present, or future of themselves. And what truly gets the story woven is that strange mixture of perspective that my story was to be about.

Cause often it's the little things that create the big impacts of what a story needs. It's seems wasteful, obscene in what your opinion could say. But, it's what my story is, to see the person more then what is relevant to the "basis of the story" from your opinion. Since, in this work of mine, the characters are the most important to follow first.

The story didn't make sense?

I’ll go to say that was quite an obvious thing to pick out. It’s dumps to a certain point without much of clear conscious of what is going on or what at all. No further in depth of the characters or the world around them. Just the words they say. Right?

Now, of course you may already know this, and of course I'm no vain ideological wannabe writer. After all, I said it would be a novel cause the story would need more words then what 30 thousand could account for. And since I love my wonderful world of imagination, I would go to great lengths create it. (Which I have been working on for some time)

So, to get back to this. I do enjoy the criticism. Your opinion was very much well deserved. If anything, to be acknowledged was what I first intended to do. Which went well over my expectations to say the least. Which is good.

The writing style was made to be so.

Cause if the writing style wasn't to par to what you think, then I would say it wasn't to me either. A quick draft, minimal editing intervention. Things in the work I would love to add paragraphs into or some changes. All the facts that my own writers intuition would be alarmed at. But, out of the blue I let it off like this.

Why? Well, I love writing like it’s a game. And this was an experimental game. And I would say I enjoyed it.

Which to say, It wouldn't be too quick to judge the overall idea of my story as something that’s an adept piece of writing. Since the story hasn't been covered, right?

I enjoyed that. It was very artistic writing. I like your voice :)