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The Slow War
I saw a fox walk down the middle of Yaesunodori street in Tokyo the other day. It was a vixen, pregnant, searching for a den for her litter.
A few pedestrians saw her and stopped to watch. Once it would’ve been unheard of to see a wild fox in the heart of Tokyo. When Tokyo was the largest city in the world, a sprawling megalopolis of concrete and steel towers and houses crushed together abutting elevated rails and jammed roads. When the only animals here were humans and their allies, the birds and dogs and rats.
The vixen vanished down a frozen escalator leading to the subway. The trains only ran for a few hours each day now, during what remained of the rush hour. Otherwise they were dark and still. Just the sort of nest a fox might need.
I silently wished her well, glanced up at the clear sky to search for new stars, and went about my day.
“I’m going to Hachioji this weekend,” Maki said. “My husband’s staying there with his sister. I think I’ll stay a while, too.”
I nodded. Hachioji was a popular spot in Tokyo these days. Just a shade over 40 kilometers from the heart of the city – a respectable, safe distance. Most models showed a nearly 100 percent survival rate in Hachioji.
“What about work?” I asked.
Maki lifted the surgical mask covering her mouth long enough to take a sip of mugicha. “Quit yesterday. They were going to lay us off anyway. No customers anymore. Who wants to advertise in Tokyo these days? Gold coins to a cat.”
I smiled, more out of politeness than true humor. Unlike most Tokyo residents, I didn’t bother with a mask. I always thought they were depersonalizing, and most studies showed they were ineffective against radiation anyway. Unless you had a full-face mask with HEPA filters, you might as well stay inside.
“I guess we won’t see each other for a while, then,” I said.
“We will,” she said. The words seemed to leap out of her, emphatic, more a reflex than the product of considered thought. In the silence that followed she froze, leaning forward out of her seat. I couldn’t gage the full expression on her face, only the slight widening of her eyes.
“Sorry,” I said. “Of course we will.”
We finished our tea in silence, both of us stargazing on a sunny afternoon. Over a nearby radio, a woman read the weekend’s weather, followed by the latest plume forecast from North Korea and the hunt for the last remaining Gorae.
They say the last thing we will see is a new star, appearing high above.
To those far away, the star will actually be a streak, like a rushing comet blasting toward the earth. But for those of us beneath it, in the target zone, it will simply be a spot, growing brighter and brighter in the sky. It will only appear for a few seconds, so only those of us lucky enough to be outside and watching the heavens will see it arrive.
I remember watching the fires across the Sea of Japan. The whole horizon glowed, punctuated by bright flashes as American missiles detonated over their targets. Even from over the horizon they left me blinking away ghostly afterimages.
The war began, and ended, over three months ago. It only lasted thirty minutes – the fastest war in human history. Millions died. In places, the bedrock itself melted. And, horrible it might have been, at least the North Korean sword was removed from the world’s neck. And the Americans promised that, any day now, they would find North Korea’s missile submarines.
The Goraes can only hold ten missiles each. At least, that's the hope. And they may all be sunk by now, rusting on the bottom of the ocean. Or they may be lying in Tokyo Bay, waiting for the day to surface.
I don't blame Mika for leaving, or the millions of others. As much as I love this city, I've felt it myself, the desire to flee, while staring up at the sky. Waiting for a new star above Tokyo.
A few pedestrians saw her and stopped to watch. Once it would’ve been unheard of to see a wild fox in the heart of Tokyo. When Tokyo was the largest city in the world, a sprawling megalopolis of concrete and steel towers and houses crushed together abutting elevated rails and jammed roads. When the only animals here were humans and their allies, the birds and dogs and rats.
The vixen vanished down a frozen escalator leading to the subway. The trains only ran for a few hours each day now, during what remained of the rush hour. Otherwise they were dark and still. Just the sort of nest a fox might need.
I silently wished her well, glanced up at the clear sky to search for new stars, and went about my day.
“I’m going to Hachioji this weekend,” Maki said. “My husband’s staying there with his sister. I think I’ll stay a while, too.”
I nodded. Hachioji was a popular spot in Tokyo these days. Just a shade over 40 kilometers from the heart of the city – a respectable, safe distance. Most models showed a nearly 100 percent survival rate in Hachioji.
“What about work?” I asked.
Maki lifted the surgical mask covering her mouth long enough to take a sip of mugicha. “Quit yesterday. They were going to lay us off anyway. No customers anymore. Who wants to advertise in Tokyo these days? Gold coins to a cat.”
I smiled, more out of politeness than true humor. Unlike most Tokyo residents, I didn’t bother with a mask. I always thought they were depersonalizing, and most studies showed they were ineffective against radiation anyway. Unless you had a full-face mask with HEPA filters, you might as well stay inside.
“I guess we won’t see each other for a while, then,” I said.
“We will,” she said. The words seemed to leap out of her, emphatic, more a reflex than the product of considered thought. In the silence that followed she froze, leaning forward out of her seat. I couldn’t gage the full expression on her face, only the slight widening of her eyes.
“Sorry,” I said. “Of course we will.”
We finished our tea in silence, both of us stargazing on a sunny afternoon. Over a nearby radio, a woman read the weekend’s weather, followed by the latest plume forecast from North Korea and the hunt for the last remaining Gorae.
They say the last thing we will see is a new star, appearing high above.
To those far away, the star will actually be a streak, like a rushing comet blasting toward the earth. But for those of us beneath it, in the target zone, it will simply be a spot, growing brighter and brighter in the sky. It will only appear for a few seconds, so only those of us lucky enough to be outside and watching the heavens will see it arrive.
I remember watching the fires across the Sea of Japan. The whole horizon glowed, punctuated by bright flashes as American missiles detonated over their targets. Even from over the horizon they left me blinking away ghostly afterimages.
The war began, and ended, over three months ago. It only lasted thirty minutes – the fastest war in human history. Millions died. In places, the bedrock itself melted. And, horrible it might have been, at least the North Korean sword was removed from the world’s neck. And the Americans promised that, any day now, they would find North Korea’s missile submarines.
The Goraes can only hold ten missiles each. At least, that's the hope. And they may all be sunk by now, rusting on the bottom of the ocean. Or they may be lying in Tokyo Bay, waiting for the day to surface.
I don't blame Mika for leaving, or the millions of others. As much as I love this city, I've felt it myself, the desire to flee, while staring up at the sky. Waiting for a new star above Tokyo.
Vivid intro here. I like it. The "New stars at day" thing is just the right kind of subtle weirdness.
"...stargazing on a sunny afternoon," much less subtle.
Okay, this is very well done. The ending section fails it though. It drops the eloquent subtlty and just info dumps the situation. It should've ended on the first use of the word "Gorae" because that's a word one looks up these days. And the definition tells us all we need to know in the current world poltical situation.
So yeah, trust the reader to know enough. Maybe give a few more subtle hints about the flashes across the sea or something if you're still unsure though.
Oh, and I think there's enough detail on Japan here that I suspect the author has been there for a bit longer than the mere week I spent there.
"...stargazing on a sunny afternoon," much less subtle.
Okay, this is very well done. The ending section fails it though. It drops the eloquent subtlty and just info dumps the situation. It should've ended on the first use of the word "Gorae" because that's a word one looks up these days. And the definition tells us all we need to know in the current world poltical situation.
So yeah, trust the reader to know enough. Maybe give a few more subtle hints about the flashes across the sea or something if you're still unsure though.
Oh, and I think there's enough detail on Japan here that I suspect the author has been there for a bit longer than the mere week I spent there.
I'm going to disagree a bit with >>Xepher on this one.
The word "Gorae" isn't something everyone is familiar with (never heard it before reading this entry), so I feel like the definition you gave is relevant.
However, I think the definition should have been in the second section. Same for the info-dump part. As it is, the third section imagery is lessen by mentions of facts, even if they are framed by metaphors and feelings. And I believe you aimed for a rather strong impression, so cutting that part would probably do some good.
Anyway, I was sold from the end of the first part, and the delivery, while a bit too smooth, is still strong. Good work and thank you for sharing.
The word "Gorae" isn't something everyone is familiar with (never heard it before reading this entry), so I feel like the definition you gave is relevant.
However, I think the definition should have been in the second section. Same for the info-dump part. As it is, the third section imagery is lessen by mentions of facts, even if they are framed by metaphors and feelings. And I believe you aimed for a rather strong impression, so cutting that part would probably do some good.
Anyway, I was sold from the end of the first part, and the delivery, while a bit too smooth, is still strong. Good work and thank you for sharing.
>>Fenton
No, sorry, I meant the opposite actually. That the word is strange enough that it made me google it. And that every reader in the modern age will likely be able to do the same. A weird (unique) word with heavy, real-world implications that explains the rest of the story is a great way to end.
No, sorry, I meant the opposite actually. That the word is strange enough that it made me google it. And that every reader in the modern age will likely be able to do the same. A weird (unique) word with heavy, real-world implications that explains the rest of the story is a great way to end.
Great prose, but the ending, important as it is, needs some work. It's not subtle, though the imagery is fantastic and definitely adds to the overall tone.
The ending also has "Mika" instead of "Maki," which confused me until I realized it was just a typo.
Overall, though, very well done and thoroughly enjoyable.
The ending also has "Mika" instead of "Maki," which confused me until I realized it was just a typo.
Overall, though, very well done and thoroughly enjoyable.
I don't know enough about current geopolitical stuff to comment on this, but the narrator's thoughts in the final scene feel distinctly American-centric. It's a hard guess to make, but I'm not convinced of an (admittedly soft spoken) pro-American view on this one. But it is a tough call.
I'll take my shot at disagreeing with >>Xepher on the basis that the third scene is a better bookend than just ending with the end of the second scene. While I think the whole could just be better improved with just a little more of an arc for the narrator, the third scene at least provides a bit of emotional closure on who they are and what they are doing (staying willingly vs necessity, etc).
Anyhow, super solid all 'round regardless. Great first scene.
I'll take my shot at disagreeing with >>Xepher on the basis that the third scene is a better bookend than just ending with the end of the second scene. While I think the whole could just be better improved with just a little more of an arc for the narrator, the third scene at least provides a bit of emotional closure on who they are and what they are doing (staying willingly vs necessity, etc).
Anyhow, super solid all 'round regardless. Great first scene.
I thought this one was Cold’s because of Japan. Then I told me that Cold wouldn’t’ve written “gage” for “gauge” so this is definitely not him.
searching for a den for her litter made me cringe a little, because of the two “for” (that’s eight) just one after the other. I think I would’ve written “in search of a den for her litter” here.
I agree with the others that the “post apocalyptic” imagery is strong with this one. It’s a nice take on what the fallout of a nuclear conflict between NK and the USA could be.
The end is a bit underwhelming though. It doesn’t seem to fit within the two other parts, and, well, it feels a bit cliché to be honest (sounds like the end of a B movie). It’s a pity, because the rest is nice.
searching for a den for her litter made me cringe a little, because of the two “for” (that’s eight) just one after the other. I think I would’ve written “in search of a den for her litter” here.
I agree with the others that the “post apocalyptic” imagery is strong with this one. It’s a nice take on what the fallout of a nuclear conflict between NK and the USA could be.
The end is a bit underwhelming though. It doesn’t seem to fit within the two other parts, and, well, it feels a bit cliché to be honest (sounds like the end of a B movie). It’s a pity, because the rest is nice.
Man, I thought this was some great sci-fi thing, but nope, just nukes. Eh.
I think you're making the wrong call (I complain about this a lot in minifics) by not establishing some sort of stakes or tension early enough. The imagery in the opening is striking, but there's no emotional context to it; just a mild curiosity and a sense of weirdness. If the narrator even so much as felt a pang of regret for the rumble of the trains, I think I'd have a better idea of how he felt about all of this, some hint at what's going on that I could feel things about.
Because the opening is so flat-affect, I had to read that 'nearly 100 percent survival rate' line about four or five times, wondering what it was talking about. There's no context to that, and it's super non-sequitur.
There's also a touch much reliance on jargon here, I think; mugicha might give flavor for someone who understands the word, but without an explanation in-text, it's gonna throw some people off too. 'Gold coins to a cat' is a bit of an odd one; it struck me as understandable but non-idiomatic. That alien-ness might be the intended effect, like with mugicha, but... I'm not sure I like it. With things like these, if they're being used for flavor, their alien-ness needs to be balanced against the immersion of the reader, I guess. Gorae gets an explanation in-text, which is good, but... honestly, I'd just rather see 'barley tea', 'useless', and 'submarine' in here. I don't think you'd lose much, and it might read more smoothly.
I dunno. I like a lot of what's going on here, but I can't shake the feeling that this is played like some sort of 'reveal' story and it's doing the whole idea a disservice. IMO, the strength here comes from the pathos and tragedy, not the 'twist' that oh, man, it was nukes all along! Maybe that's mis-characterizing your intent, but yeah. I'd like more context earlier. Let me feel this main character's love for Tokyo, show me why he hangs onto his city despite feeling the fear that's driving everyone else out.
I think you're making the wrong call (I complain about this a lot in minifics) by not establishing some sort of stakes or tension early enough. The imagery in the opening is striking, but there's no emotional context to it; just a mild curiosity and a sense of weirdness. If the narrator even so much as felt a pang of regret for the rumble of the trains, I think I'd have a better idea of how he felt about all of this, some hint at what's going on that I could feel things about.
Because the opening is so flat-affect, I had to read that 'nearly 100 percent survival rate' line about four or five times, wondering what it was talking about. There's no context to that, and it's super non-sequitur.
There's also a touch much reliance on jargon here, I think; mugicha might give flavor for someone who understands the word, but without an explanation in-text, it's gonna throw some people off too. 'Gold coins to a cat' is a bit of an odd one; it struck me as understandable but non-idiomatic. That alien-ness might be the intended effect, like with mugicha, but... I'm not sure I like it. With things like these, if they're being used for flavor, their alien-ness needs to be balanced against the immersion of the reader, I guess. Gorae gets an explanation in-text, which is good, but... honestly, I'd just rather see 'barley tea', 'useless', and 'submarine' in here. I don't think you'd lose much, and it might read more smoothly.
I dunno. I like a lot of what's going on here, but I can't shake the feeling that this is played like some sort of 'reveal' story and it's doing the whole idea a disservice. IMO, the strength here comes from the pathos and tragedy, not the 'twist' that oh, man, it was nukes all along! Maybe that's mis-characterizing your intent, but yeah. I'd like more context earlier. Let me feel this main character's love for Tokyo, show me why he hangs onto his city despite feeling the fear that's driving everyone else out.
There are about three people this could possibly have been written by, and it's pretty obvious which one of the three it is
So. What to say about this story?
For one, this needed another look from the author to really make this piece shine. There's some good verbiage here, but then you come across monstrosities such as:
I dub thee: the prettiest ugly sentence in the Write-Off. Just look at all those conjunctions. The overall image is nice and the contrasting of old versus new Tokyo is an interesting sentiment, the prose just is an utter mess to read. The subsequent sentence is also a bit of a conundrum (where the only animals were [insert long list of animals, rats baffling described as "allies"]), and doesn't effectively communicate these rather important details of a city slowly being abandoned.
What I would say is that the scene construction here is generally on point: the author has his image, and it's a good one. He is just clumsily communicating it. I don't mean to say that the piece is disorganized, again to the contrary; all the framework is there. It's just that a breakdown occurs when you really try to peel back the fine details, and by the end, the author just sort of gives up and says to the audience: "This is what the story is about, you idiots!"
This breakdown in communication is more noticeable for this particular author because of how clean his work is generally. As such, it sticks out like a sore thumb.
For example:
In almost any of story, I would read a paragraph like this and say: "hmm, this author doesn't know how to organize paragraphs. The author is showing a reaction shot to the prior dialogue, then immediately cutting to an unrelated piece of exposition made to inform the reader about the background. There should be a paragraph break here or something that connects these two unrelated topics together."
BUT OF COURSE SINCE IT IS THIS AUTHOR, I KNOW THAT HE KNOWS BETTER. Even if I am being overly presumptuous about this author's identity, it is apparent in the text itself that the author understands how to build discreet paragraphs and transition topics from paragraph to paragraph—which is all the more egregious when the author chooses not to. Again, I am given the feeling that this piece was rushed.
Lot of small details that are good about this piece. Little things that communicate personality, perspective, and emotions of our two shown characters in evocative ways. I personally would have preferred the dialogue scene to go on longer and not end on a long bout of information dumping. In fact, framed with the dialogue, all of the material from the first and last scenes could have been delivered in a much more interesting and dynamic manner.
I agree with >>Xepher, the author went overboard on the stargazing in the middle of the day. There needed to be some restraint in utilizing that imagery, because I really felt like I was beat over the head with the fact that he's looking for missiles. I got it. Don't worry. The wistfulness seeps into a bit of melodrama, and as >>Monokeras says, the tone doesn't fit.
This is a "War is Hell" sort of story. Or rather, the cousin of a "War is Hell" story called "War is Messy and has long term consequences for civilians." There is a need for this to be a grounded in its emotions and more small scale. The opening scene is about the quaintness of a fox in the subway. Small emotion moments are what is going to sell this sort of story.
I liked this story and would give it a high ranking if it were on my slate.
So. What to say about this story?
For one, this needed another look from the author to really make this piece shine. There's some good verbiage here, but then you come across monstrosities such as:
When Tokyo was the largest city in the world, a sprawling megalopolis of concrete and steel towers and houses crushed together abutting elevated rails and jammed roads.
I dub thee: the prettiest ugly sentence in the Write-Off. Just look at all those conjunctions. The overall image is nice and the contrasting of old versus new Tokyo is an interesting sentiment, the prose just is an utter mess to read. The subsequent sentence is also a bit of a conundrum (where the only animals were [insert long list of animals, rats baffling described as "allies"]), and doesn't effectively communicate these rather important details of a city slowly being abandoned.
What I would say is that the scene construction here is generally on point: the author has his image, and it's a good one. He is just clumsily communicating it. I don't mean to say that the piece is disorganized, again to the contrary; all the framework is there. It's just that a breakdown occurs when you really try to peel back the fine details, and by the end, the author just sort of gives up and says to the audience: "This is what the story is about, you idiots!"
This breakdown in communication is more noticeable for this particular author because of how clean his work is generally. As such, it sticks out like a sore thumb.
For example:
I smiled, more out of politeness than true humor. Unlike most Tokyo residents, I didn’t bother with a mask. I always thought they were depersonalizing, and most studies showed they were ineffective against radiation anyway. Unless you had a full-face mask with HEPA filters, you might as well stay inside.
In almost any of story, I would read a paragraph like this and say: "hmm, this author doesn't know how to organize paragraphs. The author is showing a reaction shot to the prior dialogue, then immediately cutting to an unrelated piece of exposition made to inform the reader about the background. There should be a paragraph break here or something that connects these two unrelated topics together."
BUT OF COURSE SINCE IT IS THIS AUTHOR, I KNOW THAT HE KNOWS BETTER. Even if I am being overly presumptuous about this author's identity, it is apparent in the text itself that the author understands how to build discreet paragraphs and transition topics from paragraph to paragraph—which is all the more egregious when the author chooses not to. Again, I am given the feeling that this piece was rushed.
Lot of small details that are good about this piece. Little things that communicate personality, perspective, and emotions of our two shown characters in evocative ways. I personally would have preferred the dialogue scene to go on longer and not end on a long bout of information dumping. In fact, framed with the dialogue, all of the material from the first and last scenes could have been delivered in a much more interesting and dynamic manner.
I agree with >>Xepher, the author went overboard on the stargazing in the middle of the day. There needed to be some restraint in utilizing that imagery, because I really felt like I was beat over the head with the fact that he's looking for missiles. I got it. Don't worry. The wistfulness seeps into a bit of melodrama, and as >>Monokeras says, the tone doesn't fit.
This is a "War is Hell" sort of story. Or rather, the cousin of a "War is Hell" story called "War is Messy and has long term consequences for civilians." There is a need for this to be a grounded in its emotions and more small scale. The opening scene is about the quaintness of a fox in the subway. Small emotion moments are what is going to sell this sort of story.
I liked this story and would give it a high ranking if it were on my slate.
>>Cassius
Seconding most of this.
I think using the word "Gorae" at all might not be ideal here. Some people are going to know what it means, others aren't and will suffer momentary confusion until the end of the piece brings it together. Why not just say "nuclear subs" and make it clear to everyone? I spent a few seconds confused and looking to find out if it was some science fiction explanation, maybe Gorae are aliens bombarding the planet with comets! Took away from the atmosphere a little bit.
As Cassius points out, the organization and mix between present action and exposition is clunky at times.
I'm also not completely sold on the premise, truth be told. Japan and South Korea already live in fear that today will be the day the Glorious Leader decides enough is enough and pride demands a Pyrrhic statement be made. It's just something that part of the world has to live with, and they've done so for decades. Is the aftermath of a short war and the fear of (one?) sub at large really so different as to bring Tokyo to this state in three months? Either evacuate the city or don't, yeah? Maybe this is nitpicking, but I do think that the core tensions could be slightly different to align better with the results we see.
The protagonist has no character, and so the piece comes off as very telly. A rework to put everything in Maki's perspective might help.
These are mostly all minor, high level tweaks. Obviously the piece is overall functional and the author's one of the better ones in the community and etc etc. Hella Japanese. Tighten it up and ease up on the maudlin, that's about all I got. Thanks for writing!
Seconding most of this.
I think using the word "Gorae" at all might not be ideal here. Some people are going to know what it means, others aren't and will suffer momentary confusion until the end of the piece brings it together. Why not just say "nuclear subs" and make it clear to everyone? I spent a few seconds confused and looking to find out if it was some science fiction explanation, maybe Gorae are aliens bombarding the planet with comets! Took away from the atmosphere a little bit.
As Cassius points out, the organization and mix between present action and exposition is clunky at times.
I'm also not completely sold on the premise, truth be told. Japan and South Korea already live in fear that today will be the day the Glorious Leader decides enough is enough and pride demands a Pyrrhic statement be made. It's just something that part of the world has to live with, and they've done so for decades. Is the aftermath of a short war and the fear of (one?) sub at large really so different as to bring Tokyo to this state in three months? Either evacuate the city or don't, yeah? Maybe this is nitpicking, but I do think that the core tensions could be slightly different to align better with the results we see.
The protagonist has no character, and so the piece comes off as very telly. A rework to put everything in Maki's perspective might help.
These are mostly all minor, high level tweaks. Obviously the piece is overall functional and the author's one of the better ones in the community and etc etc. Hella Japanese. Tighten it up and ease up on the maudlin, that's about all I got. Thanks for writing!
On the one hand, I like the more down-to-earth style this story uses. The destruction from the war is just an afterthought, a quiet rumination of the uncertain future. I also liked how this actually wasn't the end of the world for once. This is a war that's killed millions of people, yes, but a planet of billions losing millions isn't the annihilation most nuke stories promised.
But I also have to say that the story doesn't really provide many stakes for us to be involved in. The main character has already accepted the fact that Tokyo is ruined and that they won't be able to live much longer, and that robs a lot of conflict from the story. The last third also deflates a lot of the story, trying to assign an explanation for the story-world that tries too hard for a "realistic" conflict. I'm not saying that you can't used current events as inspiration for your story; I just think this story doesn't utilize said events very effectively.
A good emotional piece that crumbles when it tries to explain the world.
But I also have to say that the story doesn't really provide many stakes for us to be involved in. The main character has already accepted the fact that Tokyo is ruined and that they won't be able to live much longer, and that robs a lot of conflict from the story. The last third also deflates a lot of the story, trying to assign an explanation for the story-world that tries too hard for a "realistic" conflict. I'm not saying that you can't used current events as inspiration for your story; I just think this story doesn't utilize said events very effectively.
A good emotional piece that crumbles when it tries to explain the world.