Hey! It looks like you're new here. You might want to check out the introduction.
Show rules for this event
Jump at the Sun
You don’t have to.
I know.
Her pupils punctuate our soundless sister-speak: twin volcanic islands in that blue beyond my depth. I grasp and fail.
Finally Gloriana says, “I want to.”
Nothing here has spoken in three days, but now a nightingale awakens at her voice. Things brighten around Gloriana.
“We’re close. Sit with me, Jude.”
We make a ring of light inside the trees. The dark remains in the wood beyond, but I find my voice beside the fire.
“Are you ready?”
Her laughter always surprises me. “I was made to be ready.”
“Are you?”
“I’m ready, Jude, we are ready. Look around you. We’ve made it.”
“As far as this, yes, together. Tomorrow you go on alone.”
“Alone.” Her child’s face grows older with her eyes, those ancient eyes.
“Alone, and for good.”
“Yes, that’s the point, isn’t it?”
“For always, I mean. I won’t see you again.”
“I’ll be with you," she says.
“How can you know that?”
“I believe, Judith. Don’t you?”
“In some things. You. Us.”
“I believe in us, too. All of us. All I’ve been shown. That’s why I’m here.”
“Ready to die.”
As soon as I say it I cringe like I’ve struck her, but Gloriana’s smile only softens.
“If death is my lot. But I think otherwise. Come, sister, won’t you please? I need you now. We have so little time.”
“Here I am, Glory. I’m staying as long as I can.”
“Aren’t you weary?” She gives me the warmth she will take to wherever she’s going.
“I was made for this, too. For you.”
I would be here even if I weren’t.
“Then will you tend the fire and wait with me?” she asks. “There’s not much else remaining.”
“I will. I’ll keep it bright until dawn.”
Or whatever passes for dawn in this place.
I don’t know if it’s her idea or my own, but it’s true: our dark fairytale forest is woven with a steady gloom. Time has turned stranger and harder to tell, and somewhere nearby is a place that grows darker still.
“I’m still afraid of the dark,” Gloriana says. I know she is. Her soft voice chills me. I build the fire to burn and rage, and I gather her into my arms.
“Are you sure you want to go? It doesn’t have to be this way. It could be someone else. Or some other time.”
“I have to, it has to be now. I made the choice.”
“We were children,” I say. “We made our choices after we were told fate had designs on us.”
“It’s too late to go back. Jude. I know what I’m giving up--”
No you don’t no you don’t
“--or maybe I don’t. I know there are many things I will miss, and miss out on.
“You haven’t even had a chance to love anyone.”
“I love you.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“There are just different kinds of love--”
“Agape, Philia, Eros...Are you talking about Eros?”
“Eros. Yes.”
“Is that one special?”
“In a way. It feels different. And it...can create life.”
How Gloriana smiles.
“So will I."
With that I am silent again.
At the end of the path the dark has gone. I take my place beside her. The gate of the sun is open. All my questions have turned inside, reduced to one: Why not me? Why not me too?
Gloriana suddenly turns and sees me, hears me, grabs my hand. Her eyes are blazing with a brand new fire.
Why not us?
I know.
Her pupils punctuate our soundless sister-speak: twin volcanic islands in that blue beyond my depth. I grasp and fail.
Finally Gloriana says, “I want to.”
Nothing here has spoken in three days, but now a nightingale awakens at her voice. Things brighten around Gloriana.
“We’re close. Sit with me, Jude.”
We make a ring of light inside the trees. The dark remains in the wood beyond, but I find my voice beside the fire.
“Are you ready?”
Her laughter always surprises me. “I was made to be ready.”
“Are you?”
“I’m ready, Jude, we are ready. Look around you. We’ve made it.”
“As far as this, yes, together. Tomorrow you go on alone.”
“Alone.” Her child’s face grows older with her eyes, those ancient eyes.
“Alone, and for good.”
“Yes, that’s the point, isn’t it?”
“For always, I mean. I won’t see you again.”
“I’ll be with you," she says.
“How can you know that?”
“I believe, Judith. Don’t you?”
“In some things. You. Us.”
“I believe in us, too. All of us. All I’ve been shown. That’s why I’m here.”
“Ready to die.”
As soon as I say it I cringe like I’ve struck her, but Gloriana’s smile only softens.
“If death is my lot. But I think otherwise. Come, sister, won’t you please? I need you now. We have so little time.”
“Here I am, Glory. I’m staying as long as I can.”
“Aren’t you weary?” She gives me the warmth she will take to wherever she’s going.
“I was made for this, too. For you.”
I would be here even if I weren’t.
“Then will you tend the fire and wait with me?” she asks. “There’s not much else remaining.”
“I will. I’ll keep it bright until dawn.”
Or whatever passes for dawn in this place.
I don’t know if it’s her idea or my own, but it’s true: our dark fairytale forest is woven with a steady gloom. Time has turned stranger and harder to tell, and somewhere nearby is a place that grows darker still.
“I’m still afraid of the dark,” Gloriana says. I know she is. Her soft voice chills me. I build the fire to burn and rage, and I gather her into my arms.
“Are you sure you want to go? It doesn’t have to be this way. It could be someone else. Or some other time.”
“I have to, it has to be now. I made the choice.”
“We were children,” I say. “We made our choices after we were told fate had designs on us.”
“It’s too late to go back. Jude. I know what I’m giving up--”
No you don’t no you don’t
“--or maybe I don’t. I know there are many things I will miss, and miss out on.
“You haven’t even had a chance to love anyone.”
“I love you.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“There are just different kinds of love--”
“Agape, Philia, Eros...Are you talking about Eros?”
“Eros. Yes.”
“Is that one special?”
“In a way. It feels different. And it...can create life.”
How Gloriana smiles.
“So will I."
With that I am silent again.
At the end of the path the dark has gone. I take my place beside her. The gate of the sun is open. All my questions have turned inside, reduced to one: Why not me? Why not me too?
Gloriana suddenly turns and sees me, hears me, grabs my hand. Her eyes are blazing with a brand new fire.
Why not us?
The phrase "fairytale forest" breaks immersion. It was already described in ways that made it "fantastical", calling it out directly such breaks the fairytale feeling we're getting.
So... yeah... Another story where I think the writing is great, and sets a feeling, but... doesn't tell a real story. I have zero idea what's happening at the end. I mean, I know the literal, that two entities are going through a gate, but that's about it.
I know it's probably asking too much for a story to come out of 750 words, and that most people are just doing scenes instead, but... I still want a story, and there are just enough of those that I fear I have to judge this against that standard.
So... yeah... Another story where I think the writing is great, and sets a feeling, but... doesn't tell a real story. I have zero idea what's happening at the end. I mean, I know the literal, that two entities are going through a gate, but that's about it.
I know it's probably asking too much for a story to come out of 750 words, and that most people are just doing scenes instead, but... I still want a story, and there are just enough of those that I fear I have to judge this against that standard.
I want to like this story more than I do, but it came across as vague and hard to understand. I'm not sure what exactly is happening here, and that's really what drags this down. I had hoped the characters were in reference to some work, but searching reveals nothing. The interactions between Judith and Gloriana were excellent, but I didn't feel any connection to them throughout the story.
Maybe someone more versed in story analysis than I will love this, but it's just not my cup of tea.
Maybe someone more versed in story analysis than I will love this, but it's just not my cup of tea.
What I liked: how you showed the two knowing each other in and out by having them think in similar ways and sometimes even continue each other's thoughts.
What I didn't like: I'm too confused about their background and their situation to really get what these things they talk about mean to them. I get that they've got some human sacrifice thingy going on, but why? Where does their conviction come from? It could all just be superstition - and that'd be fine - but lines like "whatever passes for dawn in this place" make it seem like there's a lot more going on. Like there's stuff going on that's really important to the two, and that I have absolutely no clue on.
What I didn't like: I'm too confused about their background and their situation to really get what these things they talk about mean to them. I get that they've got some human sacrifice thingy going on, but why? Where does their conviction come from? It could all just be superstition - and that'd be fine - but lines like "whatever passes for dawn in this place" make it seem like there's a lot more going on. Like there's stuff going on that's really important to the two, and that I have absolutely no clue on.
This is a story that would have benefitted if it were longer. I understand their pain, its well written of their stakes in things, but I don't understand why I should convey pain toward them since I have no context.
Maybe if you described in more detail the conflict to which was about to be endured it could have been more captivating, but that would require context and thus a longer story. Maybe you could have followed the could-have-been conflict and attempt to induce the same emotion it could have been more connecting to the reader. I don't know, these are suggestions.
Maybe if you described in more detail the conflict to which was about to be endured it could have been more captivating, but that would require context and thus a longer story. Maybe you could have followed the could-have-been conflict and attempt to induce the same emotion it could have been more connecting to the reader. I don't know, these are suggestions.
Other people have mentioned how vague this is, but I'd like to point out that it's vagueness tends to clash with the style of description you seem to be going for. Take the third line, for example, which really threw me out of the story:
This is the sort of line that I want precision from. When authors throw in a lot of descriptive words, it's important for me that the words work together well, because if they don't, I have trouble staying engaged. Take the 'her - our - sister' relationship. There's no limitation on characters yet, so I can't tell if the 'her' is included in the 'our'... which means I can't tell if the 'her' is the 'sister' referenced in 'sister-speak'. I originally assumed no, that you had three characters, and it messed me up later on.
Moving on... how do 'pupils punctuate'? This doesn't make any sense to me. Like, there's no action I associate with pupils that makes sense here, without supporting text. Something like 'a piercing gaze' might work, but there's a lot more to 'a gaze' than the movement of someone's pupils.
Volcanic islands? What does this even mean? Aside from them (probably) being black, I don't see what this adds to the description. It just feels odd to me. Maybe there's something in your head that goes with 'volcanic' that I don't get.
And the failure to grasp... Of course they'd fail to grasp 'volcanic island pupils'. Those three things are normally un-graspable, and nothing in the description suggests they should be otherwise. Because of that, the failure didn't feel nearly as dramatic as its end-of-the-line three word sentence seemed to suggest it should be.
This is, honestly, all nitpicking, and none of the other lines clunked quite as hard to my ear. But... I had a hard time making my way through this story, and I think a lot of it comes from things like that. With elaborate prose, I feel like the effect should be elaborate and descriptive. However, if the denotations and connotations don't line up tightly enough, it has the opposite effect on me, because the contradictions lead to a feeling of impenetrable vagueness.
If someone wants to write in an abstract but concrete style, I think they need ensure all the little pointers point the same direction, so the audience can grasp their aim, even without the normal supporting structure of easily recognizable plot and characterization and worldbuilding.
OTOH, I do appreciate that this feels ambitious. It's at least trying something interesting and nonstandard. I don't think it worked particularly well here, but I do like the idea. If you don't want vague, consider pondering your word choice more, aiming for stronger cohesion, and trying to get all your little implications and suggestions working together.
If you like vague, uh, mission accomplished? :P
Difficult to read, but not actually bad. Thanks for writing!
Her pupils punctuate our soundless sister-speak: twin volcanic islands in that blue beyond my depth. I grasp and fail.
This is the sort of line that I want precision from. When authors throw in a lot of descriptive words, it's important for me that the words work together well, because if they don't, I have trouble staying engaged. Take the 'her - our - sister' relationship. There's no limitation on characters yet, so I can't tell if the 'her' is included in the 'our'... which means I can't tell if the 'her' is the 'sister' referenced in 'sister-speak'. I originally assumed no, that you had three characters, and it messed me up later on.
Moving on... how do 'pupils punctuate'? This doesn't make any sense to me. Like, there's no action I associate with pupils that makes sense here, without supporting text. Something like 'a piercing gaze' might work, but there's a lot more to 'a gaze' than the movement of someone's pupils.
Volcanic islands? What does this even mean? Aside from them (probably) being black, I don't see what this adds to the description. It just feels odd to me. Maybe there's something in your head that goes with 'volcanic' that I don't get.
And the failure to grasp... Of course they'd fail to grasp 'volcanic island pupils'. Those three things are normally un-graspable, and nothing in the description suggests they should be otherwise. Because of that, the failure didn't feel nearly as dramatic as its end-of-the-line three word sentence seemed to suggest it should be.
This is, honestly, all nitpicking, and none of the other lines clunked quite as hard to my ear. But... I had a hard time making my way through this story, and I think a lot of it comes from things like that. With elaborate prose, I feel like the effect should be elaborate and descriptive. However, if the denotations and connotations don't line up tightly enough, it has the opposite effect on me, because the contradictions lead to a feeling of impenetrable vagueness.
If someone wants to write in an abstract but concrete style, I think they need ensure all the little pointers point the same direction, so the audience can grasp their aim, even without the normal supporting structure of easily recognizable plot and characterization and worldbuilding.
OTOH, I do appreciate that this feels ambitious. It's at least trying something interesting and nonstandard. I don't think it worked particularly well here, but I do like the idea. If you don't want vague, consider pondering your word choice more, aiming for stronger cohesion, and trying to get all your little implications and suggestions working together.
If you like vague, uh, mission accomplished? :P
Difficult to read, but not actually bad. Thanks for writing!
Basically what the others said: it read confusing to me, and it seems at the end I’m none the wiser. What happens? Why does one sister have to face a life-threatening challenge alone? What is it that fate placed on them? We have many intimations, but zero answers, and that’s disappointing a little.
>>Xepher
>>FloydienSlip
>>tPg
>>Kritten
>>Not_A_Hat
>>Monokeras
Thanks, everyone, for reading and responding. I apologize for any difficulty getting through, or disappointment in, this very incomplete story. This is my second Writeoff entry, and if I'm establishing a pattern here it seems to be:
1. I have a (vague) idea.
2. The idea has me.
3. We chase each other around until the deadline.
4. I frantically post whatever I've managed to put together.
I didn't *mean* to take the prompt literally. But my attempts at fiction have been few and far between, and usually it's a slow and deliberate process for me. Writing to a prompt with a deadline is pretty new. My rusty chops definitely can't keep up with my imagination. I haven't even finished a retrospective for my first story, Violets, from the last round.
Like that story, this one has too much big stuff going on, and I wasn't successful at narrowing the focus enough to capture anything really substantial about it. I tried to find one thing to concentrate on (the sisters' relationship and their feelings about the situation) but didn't manage to describe just what's happening to them. My idea was that this is something that *has* to be done, and more than once--and there are some people who can do it and some who can't, but not necessarily One Chosen Person to make the sacrifice. And that it's more than superstition, though some things--like exactly what happens to the people who go through it--remain unknown.
>>Not_A_Hat commented on the stylistic weirdness. Some of that has to do with a shift early in the story from more of a narrative prose poem style to almost entirely dialogue. I thought there would be too much "telling" involved in the former, but unfortunately the talking didn't reveal enough about their circumstances, either.
And some of it involves leaving things to come back to, then running out of time (submitted this with 0:02:44 to spare; again, not intentional.) In the paragraph in question (volcanic islands etc.) I actually *lost* a line break and a couple of sentences before the "I grasp and fail" while submitting to the site, which makes the whole thing even more opaque. I'll see if I can at least explain what I was *trying* to get at.
A look in Gloriana's eyes can be enough to end a conversation between the two. I didn't manage to build around these metaphors enough to make them clear, and maybe I was mixing too much, but I had in mind the visual similarity between the pupils of the eye and the periods of a sentence. Jude also compares her eyes to blue water with volcanic islands at the center--something dark with a fiery heart, surrounded by unfathomable depths. And then there should have been a couple of lines about Jude trying to find words to continue the conversation and failing, as she often does. I guess I accidentally deleted something at...the last minute.
But you're right about the style not really jiving with the story it needs to tell, which is why I awkwardly abandoned it before long. I may revisit this when some of the ideas have better melded, but either way all your feedback has given me some valuable insights for future writing.
>>FloydienSlip
>>tPg
>>Kritten
>>Not_A_Hat
>>Monokeras
Thanks, everyone, for reading and responding. I apologize for any difficulty getting through, or disappointment in, this very incomplete story. This is my second Writeoff entry, and if I'm establishing a pattern here it seems to be:
1. I have a (vague) idea.
2. The idea has me.
3. We chase each other around until the deadline.
4. I frantically post whatever I've managed to put together.
I didn't *mean* to take the prompt literally. But my attempts at fiction have been few and far between, and usually it's a slow and deliberate process for me. Writing to a prompt with a deadline is pretty new. My rusty chops definitely can't keep up with my imagination. I haven't even finished a retrospective for my first story, Violets, from the last round.
Like that story, this one has too much big stuff going on, and I wasn't successful at narrowing the focus enough to capture anything really substantial about it. I tried to find one thing to concentrate on (the sisters' relationship and their feelings about the situation) but didn't manage to describe just what's happening to them. My idea was that this is something that *has* to be done, and more than once--and there are some people who can do it and some who can't, but not necessarily One Chosen Person to make the sacrifice. And that it's more than superstition, though some things--like exactly what happens to the people who go through it--remain unknown.
>>Not_A_Hat commented on the stylistic weirdness. Some of that has to do with a shift early in the story from more of a narrative prose poem style to almost entirely dialogue. I thought there would be too much "telling" involved in the former, but unfortunately the talking didn't reveal enough about their circumstances, either.
And some of it involves leaving things to come back to, then running out of time (submitted this with 0:02:44 to spare; again, not intentional.) In the paragraph in question (volcanic islands etc.) I actually *lost* a line break and a couple of sentences before the "I grasp and fail" while submitting to the site, which makes the whole thing even more opaque. I'll see if I can at least explain what I was *trying* to get at.
A look in Gloriana's eyes can be enough to end a conversation between the two. I didn't manage to build around these metaphors enough to make them clear, and maybe I was mixing too much, but I had in mind the visual similarity between the pupils of the eye and the periods of a sentence. Jude also compares her eyes to blue water with volcanic islands at the center--something dark with a fiery heart, surrounded by unfathomable depths. And then there should have been a couple of lines about Jude trying to find words to continue the conversation and failing, as she often does. I guess I accidentally deleted something at...the last minute.
But you're right about the style not really jiving with the story it needs to tell, which is why I awkwardly abandoned it before long. I may revisit this when some of the ideas have better melded, but either way all your feedback has given me some valuable insights for future writing.