Critique #161 — Jason B. Armstrong
Kevin Andrew Murphy August 31st, 2007
The nightmare was always the same. She was trapped inside a coffin, screaming soundlessly and trying to get out. Somehow she would kick and fight enough to loosen the lid and cold ocean air would come rushing in. And right behind it, the ocean itself came crawling over the sides, gaining speed as the coffin began to sink. She would try to climb out of the box, but the rope around her neck was fastened to the bottom. Soon a gull would perch on the edge of the box, just out of reach. It would shuffle a bit, watching with something like glee as the salt water invaded her nostrils. Just as her lungs finally exploded and the darkness started to swallow her fluid crazed mind, the gull would lunge, grabbing at her eyeballs. And then she would wake up. Crying.
All at once Adrian’s lungs knit themselves together and her eyes grew back. As oxygen replaced the water in her chest, the stale air baked her in heat that could only mean another dry day was here, no rain in sight.
I know dream sequence openings are frowned upon. Still, it’s the way the story goes. Love me despite my shortcomings?
J
Make no comments, apologize for nothing! Anyway, we don’t frown upon anything - as long as it works.
I like the opening paragraph (except for “fluid crazed mind” - which I would cut as I think it unnecessary). I would read on, wondering what it all meant and how you were going to make the nightmare fit into the plot.
I did not understand how the second paragraph fit with the first, though.
I’ve never had a problem with dream-sequence openings, so there :p.
First paragraph’s all fine, except ditto Kate on ‘fluid-crazed mind’.
Re. Adrian, small point but I always think of it as a boy’s name. As for the second paragraph, it seems to contradict the first. The dream seems to be about fearing water (she’s in a coffin floating on water. Rarely a good position to be in. Then she’s DROWNING, in a coffin floating on water. Not having a good day. Then, WHILST drowning, in a coffin floating on water, a sea-bird comes and pecks her eyes out, adding insult to injury and seawater) - now she wakes up and seems to be devastated that there isn’t any water around. I take it she’s in the desert or something?
Basically, I’m liking it until the second paragraph, where I get a little confused. Still, I’d read on. No prose problems aside from fluid-crazed mind.
Hope this helped :).
I, like others, liked the first paragraph except for “fluid crazed mind.” I also didn’t get the second paragraph. You already have her awake and crying at that point, yet the story then seems to jump back into that moment of waking when she realizes that she’s not really drowning. That was confusing to me, not to mention that it felt disjointed. I also found it strange for her to go from apparently terrified of water to devastated that it’s dry and no rain is in sight.
Hope this helped.
Is it bad form to respond to these critiques?
I don’t think I can add much. I guess I thought that the story opened with her jumping awake from a nightmare, crying, and we would take it up from there. The first paragraph was great.
Not at all - I always respond to crits, personally, and it often gets an interesting discussion going.
OK. Fluid crazed mind. I understand it’s not a fave. I just tried to think what it must be like to be well-out of breath under water.
As for the last paragraph, I’m not sure how you guys are getting that she’s devastated that it’s dry. The fact is, she woke up “this time” and it was hot.
I only posted eleven lines as I felt thirteen left it less resolved. Would anyone want to see the remaining two lines?
Also, the nightmare isn’t about a fear of water or drowning. It’s way more intense than that.
You know, now that you say that and I re-read it, you’re right, you never actually say that she’s sad about the lack of water. I think it’s the way you have ‘And then she would wake up. Crying’ followed immediately by ‘could only mean another dry day was here, no rain in sight’ - maybe we mistakenly tie her fear and sorrow from the dream to the ‘no rain in sight’ bit. Or something.
Post the next bits - I’m sure people will take a look :).
All at once Adrian’s lungs knit themselves together and her eyes grew back. As oxygen replaced the water in her chest,
I’m guessing you mean this to be metaphorical, but since it could be read literally, I found it very confusing, so therefore it threw me out of the story. I think there must be a better way just to have her wake up, crying or not crying, and realize that it is a hot day no rain in sight.
Here it is, with an additional paragraph:
The nightmare was always the same. She was trapped inside a coffin, screaming soundlessly and trying to get out. Somehow she would kick and fight enough to loosen the lid and cold ocean air would come rushing in. And right behind it, the ocean itself came crawling over the sides, gaining speed as the coffin began to sink. She would try to climb out of the box, but the rope around her neck was fastened to the bottom. Soon a gull would perch on the edge of the box, just out of reach. It would shuffle a bit, watching with something like glee as the salt water invaded her nostrils. Just as her lungs finally exploded and the darkness started to swallow her fluid crazed mind, the gull would lunge, grabbing at her eyeballs. And then she would wake up. Crying.
All at once Adrian’s lungs knit themselves together and her eyes grew back. As oxygen replaced the water in her chest, the stale air baked her in heat that could only mean another dry day was here, no rain in sight.
After a few minutes of shaking, she climbed out of bed and crossed her dark apartment to the tiny bathroom that housed her grimy, cracked shower. As the barely heated water cascaded over her body she felt herself slip back into the world of the living. Ironically, the cool water in the poorly lit shower washed away the horror of the drowning nightmare. And it did so every time. Adrian had become very good at discarding unpleasant emotions, though.
I’m not sure about this part. It feels like a tell. That is to say, I’d rather not be instructed that she’s good at discarding unpleasant emotions. Instead, I’d rather see her thoughts shift. She hops in the shower, still recalling images from the dream. The cold water hits her. She starts going through her mental to-do today list or tries to recall if she has fresh milk for coffee or whatever. We’ll see her shake it that way. But it’s quick–only three lines–so I’m not sure.
How about using “air-starved mind” instead? Just an idea.
I’m with Kate about taking the second paragraph literally. With the re-write you posted I think you can delete that whole paragraph.
The first part is fine, but the second part doesn’t work for me. The bit where the lungs ‘knit together’ and the ‘eyes grew back’ seems a little laboured. I understand you are trying to blur the dream realitity with the waking reality but for me it doesn’t work.
The following paragraph, as noted by others, contains some tell rather than show.
I think you would have been better served, instead of going for the film imagery in the first paragraph (..her eyeballs grew back..), you should have shown us how she felt waking. I normally snap awake from a nightmare. Any confusion is momentary, and doesn’t involve my room morphing from an inter-galatic spaceship back to my bedroom. I think your effect would be better grounded in her reality of waking in the room.
I have just noted that the dream is told as a story. It starts with “… the dream was always the same..” and ends with “..then she would wake up. Crying.” The you have her waking up again. Seems weird. I think it would seem more natural if when you change tack to the actual girl she is sitting on the edge of bed recovering from the dream, wiping her face. After all you have already said she wakes crying.
I did like it though, especially the first bit.
Thanks for the comments guys. You’re right about the shift. I’ll have to take some other ideas for a spin and see what happens.