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When We Yearn
Lover
I settle myself by her grave, under a tree and the bright blue sky. It’s late afternoon, and most folks are at work except for the gravediggers, so I am alone with her. I have the book of verses, a loaf of bread and a jug of wine–read tablet, corn chips and beer–and I pass the time slowly, leaving the beer untasted for now. I tell her again about what’s happening with her friends and the place where she worked and the other gossip that I only kept up with for her sake. I take up the tablet and show her pictures of people she loved, then call up the e-reader and read some of her favorite stories to her, along with a shitty poem that I wrote myself, and all the time I think about her smiling at me, knowing she’d be asking me not to make such a silly fuss over things if she could, but calling me a sweetheart anyway.
I swirl the beer bottle idly. The cap was popped at home, and it has a wine topper in the neck. At the bottom of the bottle is a smoky sediment, bluish amid the amber fluid, and I can still see a shred of undissolved gelcap here and there. I calculated the correct dosage at home and added half again as much to be sure, then I wrote the note that’s sticking up out of my shirt pocket. It’s mostly an apology for the inconvenience I am about to cause to the people who will find me. And it says that I’ve tried, I promise that I have honestly tried, but I can’t replace what she took with her when she left me. So I will just go to join her, instead.
I finish the corn chips, then mix the contents of the bottle by turning it slowly over and over so it won’t foam up. I drink the bitter stuff down, gasping and gagging here and there, then lie back on her grave for the last time. I stare up into the deep blue sky, knowing that it’s a veil, an illusion. What’s really out there is not what I am seeing. All of that blue is just filtered starshine. There is more than this, out there. I know this. I need to know this.
I hope she’ll be there, wherever I am going. The night sky is so vast, there are so many stars, so many places where things can be, that she must be out there somewhere. How can such beauty stop existing? How could love and laughter like hers be in the world, but only once?
I don’t know if there is anyone out there listening. If so, whoever they, they must know how hard this is for me. But I beg anyway; whatever happens to me, please, please let me be with her again.
Astronomer
One fantasy you have when you’re a child is that you’ll discover a new planet and it will be named after you. This is just silly; even Tombaugh, even Galileo didn’t rate that honor. I am content nowadays to have been part of the team that cataloged object 19813 Stephson. It’s not romantic, but it is gratifying; bit by bit, we are making sense of it, fitting the sky into neat rows of tabular data that seem dryer than desert dust to outsiders. But data are the life blood of science, and we are approaching the truth as best we know how. I smile sometimes at how quaint our efforts to understand must seem to the Mind that caused it all to come to be.
It’s not all so meticulous. I still love to sit at night, in a clear open field with city lights remote over the mountains, and take a tour of the sky. I remember my first star party as a girl, when a cousin homed his scope precisely, set the clockwork rolling to keep it on track with the travelling heavens, and showed me the rings of Saturn for the first time, not as artistic circles in a book but a thing out there in the living world for anyone to see. But skyfaring in this sense plays little part in my job nowadays. My work time is taken up in analysis of spectrograms, the cross referencing of images on multiple monitors, and checking that the machine calculations stay within reasonable statistical limits. The images I see are taken at third hand, filtered and processed, with false colors applied to make them comprehensible to human eyes. Computers have made the work of astronomers much easier, but also multiplied the work there is to do. And, of course, they are another layer of abstraction, another filter between what is and what we make of it.
Today, I am doing a spectrographic analysis of a tiny area of space that would just look dead black through any ordinary telescope, and as I adjust the gamut to find the best viewing range, I feel a chill. It’s a hint of that feeling I had as a child, of seeing the thing itself, the thrill of knowing that some distant object and I are part of the same reality. But it’s not a friendly feeling now. It’s wistful and a little painful.
I close my eyes and massage my temples a bit, and get back to work. I figure it’s something I ate for breakfast coming back to haunt me, and sure enough, when I pass to the next area, the feeling fades.
Climber
I’m walking along the marked and roped trail on the mountainside, eyeing the rock faces around me, counting foot and fingerholds. I’m light in the head and singing in the heart, as I’ve had my fabulous David for three nights now, post wedding, and this tour is the most fantastic of possible honeymoons. As we take the tourist route to tonight’s hostel, I look out at the long long drop to the river valley and town far below, and the gorgeous clear sky overhead.
There’s a bend in the path ahead, and going around it would be so boring and the climb up over that bulge is so inviting, that I cast a glance back at David, wink, toss him my bag and go for it. It’s in my blood and always has been. You just can’t get this kind of feeling on the ground. You have to be pressing up in the sky and the air. He calls after me, laughing, hesitant, but this is stuff I do all the time when we aren’t so high up and the rock is dry with good purchase and geez I’m not a kid anymore.
Then one handhold cracks loose on me with a spray of splinters, and I don’t make the other, and I am falling out through the wind and past the safety rope. I see David’s eyes as he screams and leaps to catch me, but just for a moment as I fall past and I tumble into the open air, facing the rocks and the sky and the rocks and the sky and the rock—
Diver
There is a phenomenon called whale fall, where the sunken carcass of a dead whale causes an ecosystem to spring up around it for years after the whale’s death, with sharks to excavate the flesh, and crabs to scavenge the scraps, and and anemonae and worms to grow on the bones. And here, a mile west of Karainagar, Sri Lanka, there is a diverfall. As with the remains of those who ascend Everest and lose the fight, it would be too expensive to try to retrieve her, so here she lies in her open grave at sea bottom.
At some point before the end, she knew she was likely to die, and she could have turned back. But in deep diving, there is a condition called nitrogen narcosis where you get disoriented and lose the knowledge that could help you escape; rational thought exists but is based on fanciful facts that do not help you to return to the surface. Dying was something her brain did in pieces. She did what she thought at the time was best, and died as many others do who go too deep.
Her dual tanks, which contained different mixtures of air and inert gases to help her survive, now float vertically above her body, attached to her buoyancy vest, with not enough lift to pull her corpse free from the muck. She is skeletonized, and one of her arms is missing. Her skull is held in a twisted position by what remains of her suit. The skull is empty and the eye sockets hold nothing but sea life, but the angle of her head suggests she was striving at the end to see something. Her jawbone has fallen away from the natural forces of decomposition, and not from a scream that was too large for her throat. The sky, and the surface of the sea, looked just the same to her at the end, through the twin filters of her fleshly eyes and the fading sparks within her mind.
Philosopher
Each day is lost on which we have not exulted in joy. I have not lived such a day in many long years, as my flesh falls to my illness. It is no longer possible to live proudly, so proudly I shall leave.
My colleagues and my family, those who care for me, think me mad, yet in my madness, I am complete. And should not one who has reached completion move on, and step forward to a higher level? Separation is temporary, a rebellion of the will. The light of the stars requires time, but the time shall last out. I was before, and shall be again! Even in my extremity, I was always careful not to be a monster. All the things I have done, I did to surpass myself. I am a bridge to something better, something more vital than common morality, and stronger than ordinary mortality.
Thoughts are but shadows of feelings, black and empty shapes. I have dwelt among humans, and been the best and brightest of them. I yield my body to the hands of no one but myself. I have become what I am! And where I go, I go with passion and confidence, for here I shall come again!
Void
I am thin, stretched, strained, dispersed, diverted, pushed beyond my breaking point into hopeless horror, and all I can do is wait as stars burn through their courses and chill into cinders.
I felt the Burst, the alien intrusion that sought to tear me apart. It grew in the core of me and I knew it wanted to break free and fly out in all directions, so I encircled it and crushed it down with immense force. I squeezed it with all that I had in me to force it back out of reality, and compressed it to nothing, but not nothing enough, and it broke free in the most intense heat that can ever be, and sent me reeling, stretching me, scattering me so thin that I am not me anymore. All that I was is now separated, too far for complex thoughts to travel, and what I knew is gone from me, across an unbridgeable void. Simple thoughts take me eons, the information not lost but buried in spacetime. I know that I once knew how to recover from this, but that knowledge is gone from me now. All I can do is wait for the Burst to get tired of pushing itself outward, and withdraw, and with that withdrawal pull myself back together and channel all my force to try to squeeze it all away permanently, this time. This time! How many times has it been?
So I wait. And though my thoughts are slow within my scattered mind, my feelings are still fresh and quick, and I can sense them, shreds and sparks in the Burst. As I was pushed and pulled apart, stretched into fragments by the perimeter of the Burst, small shreds and tendrils of my being were caught up within it, becoming mixed with its substance. These, I cannot think with, for they are confused and lost as I, but I feel them as they strive to coalesce and push against that alien gravity, and lose. I feel them as they vainly try to pierce the blackness of me, for thin though I am, I am very very dark. I feel them as they try to combine with each other in the substance of the Burst, and fall and disperse, and rise to try again, in fruitless attempts to do in miniature what I seek to do in totality.
Worse still, as they strive, I cannot ignore them. Their desperate relentless eyes stare outward, questioning, querying, calling for balm that cannot truly heal, seeking understanding that cannot be had, screaming for succor that cannot aid and help that shall never arrive, striving for transcendence that is fundamentally unreachable.
And I, I who now am nothing and have nothing, can only wait in silence. In horror of my dissolution, in despair of my usurpation, in loathing of the Blasting intrusion, I can only stare back.
This is an interesting way to take things, and demonstrated the author's ability to write from a myriad of perspectives. Kudos to you for pulling this off.
I very much like that you personified the void, saving it for last was a great way to do things. Not usually my preferred genre, but I enjoyed this in spite of that, meaning that it's definitely praiseworthy.
Thanks for the (slightly saddening) read.
AAIQU
I very much like that you personified the void, saving it for last was a great way to do things. Not usually my preferred genre, but I enjoyed this in spite of that, meaning that it's definitely praiseworthy.
Thanks for the (slightly saddening) read.
AAIQU
Commenter
I tell myself that I can sneak in one more story before going to bed. Sure, I have to wake up early for work, but with how tired my body is, my will feels as though it were fighting a losing battle. Ultimately, my tired and somewhat sore body concedes and my mind rejoices at the prospect of getting to enjoy another story, and at least this one seems to be a short one.
Then, a few sections in, my body curses my brain and promises to held it responsible should I fall asleep on the bus come the morrow. My mind tries to assuage its concerns, saying that everything is under control, this isn't the first time it has had to unravel a complex story with a few layers of depth. My body just groans in a mix of disbelief, contempt, and fatigue. Not one to take such an insult laying down, my mind further raises the stakes by promising to not only offer feedback, but doing so in a style reminiscing the story itself.
My body, for its part, simply starts shutting down part by part.
With the looming threat of unconsciousness growing above it much like the parallel for negative things in a bad metaphor, my mind rushes to sort out what to mention first. It realises that the format of the story is to be commended, a series of vignettes portraying different views on the nature of nonexistence is not only creative, but was also interestingly developed. But is that the most commendable aspect of the story? Surely it could have benefitted from expanding its scope to other perspectives, much like how the whale broke the somewhat samey pattern the segments had up until that point. Like wise with the final scene.
The odd feeling of numbness is starting to spread, and my mind realises it must hurry, lest this review end up being cut short and proving the body right. With the stubborness that characterises it, my mind pushes forwards, focusing now on the efectiveness of each segment, and how it accomplishes what each sets out to do in such a succinct way, even though a few rounds of polishing and perhaps some measured expansion could make them shine and feel more in harmony with the rest.
Feeling that all that it could say has been said without being victim of the pitfalls of nitpicking, my mind is satisfied and decides to succumb to the slumber that has already overtaken the body when a sudden, chilling thought crosses it.
If my mind could so easily embrace the sleep which overtook my body, does it mean that there really is no distinction between the two other than whichever barriers put forth by itself in an attempt to rationalise that a difference must exist when truth is that both mind and body aren't two opposing forces but rather complementary parts of a whole and any separation only takes place--despite the redundancy or even because of it--within the mind?
Before this thought can be pursued any further, sleep overtakes, and both mind and body join one another in unconsciousness.
For just a bit over two thousand words, this is rather amazing.
Variations on a theme, I want to call it. I find it interesting that of the five vignettes that feature humans, four explicitly involve death, and three of those describe some form of self-destruction. The astronomer stands somewhat aside, though the theme of space and stars is present, and I can't help but feel that the desire to be a part of some great undertaking (or, in the extreme, having something immortal named after you) is part of an attempt to escape death itself.
I love the imagery of the Diver's scene. That piece, by itself, would make a wonderful bit of flash fiction.
I'm not so enthralled by the Philosopher's scene, which feels mediocre following the Diver. As for the Void, I'm of two minds. I like the fact that it thematically ties together all of the star and space references in the previous vignettes, but I'm not quite certain what the point of it is, beyond that. It matches the prompt well, yes, and the language (particularly the last paragraph) appeals greatly to me, but I'm not quite sure I buy the personification of the cosmos as fitting with the rest of the story.
Those are quibbles, though. Top of my slate, so far.
Variations on a theme, I want to call it. I find it interesting that of the five vignettes that feature humans, four explicitly involve death, and three of those describe some form of self-destruction. The astronomer stands somewhat aside, though the theme of space and stars is present, and I can't help but feel that the desire to be a part of some great undertaking (or, in the extreme, having something immortal named after you) is part of an attempt to escape death itself.
I love the imagery of the Diver's scene. That piece, by itself, would make a wonderful bit of flash fiction.
I'm not so enthralled by the Philosopher's scene, which feels mediocre following the Diver. As for the Void, I'm of two minds. I like the fact that it thematically ties together all of the star and space references in the previous vignettes, but I'm not quite certain what the point of it is, beyond that. It matches the prompt well, yes, and the language (particularly the last paragraph) appeals greatly to me, but I'm not quite sure I buy the personification of the cosmos as fitting with the rest of the story.
Those are quibbles, though. Top of my slate, so far.
The Nietzsche is strong in this one. Not only that last line, but the 'philosopher' piece seemed a bit on-the-nose. Also, 'data are' hurts my soul. Thank you, English Language.
...honestly, I'd suggest adding some sort of quantifier to that. 'a steady supply of data is' or something. I know you're technically using it correctly, but the incorrect use is so much more common that what you've done is likely to yank people out of the story. Whether they notice it because it looks right or looks wrong, they'll notice it because it looks odd.
Each piece of this is nicely done, but I didn't feel like the Void wrapped them together enough thematically. I mean, I appreciated each piece, but I'm not sure they actually gain anything by being in proximity like this; in my opinion, not only could you scramble the order completely and not lose much, I think you could actually yank any one piece out and you wouldn't lose much. I feel like you could be doing more to tie these together somehow, if not in every segment, then at least in the last segment.
Still, very strong writing, and each piece is individually effective, even if the impact is rather dissolute when taken as a whole.
...honestly, I'd suggest adding some sort of quantifier to that. 'a steady supply of data is' or something. I know you're technically using it correctly, but the incorrect use is so much more common that what you've done is likely to yank people out of the story. Whether they notice it because it looks right or looks wrong, they'll notice it because it looks odd.
Each piece of this is nicely done, but I didn't feel like the Void wrapped them together enough thematically. I mean, I appreciated each piece, but I'm not sure they actually gain anything by being in proximity like this; in my opinion, not only could you scramble the order completely and not lose much, I think you could actually yank any one piece out and you wouldn't lose much. I feel like you could be doing more to tie these together somehow, if not in every segment, then at least in the last segment.
Still, very strong writing, and each piece is individually effective, even if the impact is rather dissolute when taken as a whole.
This story starts strong, and stays strong. Something I don’t talk about enough is how much I enjoy pretty words for the sake of pretty words, and there have been plenty of stories over the time I’ve been participating in the writeoff that have won me over purely on that basis. This is one of those stories.
That having been said, this story isn’t without its faults, and I wanted to quickly touch on a couple of things that didn’t quite work for me. Firstly, despite how pretty the prose was throughout, I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that all the narrative voices on display were a little samey. Heck, even when you switch into third person for Diver, the narrative voice and style doesn’t seem to change significantly. And this isn’t a huge issue—your writing style is flexible enough that I could still easily get a sense of character from this without you needing to change things up significantly—but I do think that with stories like this variety is incredibly important.
The other point I wanted to mention was the structure. Though this might be a collection of vignettes connected by theme at heart, as I reader I still expected there to be some kind of structural element that brings them all together at the end, something that breaks the barrier between vignettes that had held this entire time. Perhaps I’m wrong, and perhaps such a thing would directly contradict some nuance I have missed here, but I really do think that bringing everything back together at the end would have tied this all up a little better. That said, the structure still very much works, and I think it can hold its own regardless.
I admit I find myself a little confused by the inclusion of the Astronomer. Perhaps, again, I’ve missed a nuance of the theme that’s connecting all of these vignettes together, but it seems odd that she moves on where no other characters do/can—perhaps even more so because she is the second entry in this story, which sets up this expectation that all of these vignettes are going to be as different from each other as the first two are.
Let me be clear, author: these are nitpicks. This story was delightful to read, and managed to be both pretty and engaging at once, despite its (relatively minor) issues. I really did enjoy reading this one.
HHHHHOOOORRRRRSSSEEE
Tier: Strong
That having been said, this story isn’t without its faults, and I wanted to quickly touch on a couple of things that didn’t quite work for me. Firstly, despite how pretty the prose was throughout, I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that all the narrative voices on display were a little samey. Heck, even when you switch into third person for Diver, the narrative voice and style doesn’t seem to change significantly. And this isn’t a huge issue—your writing style is flexible enough that I could still easily get a sense of character from this without you needing to change things up significantly—but I do think that with stories like this variety is incredibly important.
The other point I wanted to mention was the structure. Though this might be a collection of vignettes connected by theme at heart, as I reader I still expected there to be some kind of structural element that brings them all together at the end, something that breaks the barrier between vignettes that had held this entire time. Perhaps I’m wrong, and perhaps such a thing would directly contradict some nuance I have missed here, but I really do think that bringing everything back together at the end would have tied this all up a little better. That said, the structure still very much works, and I think it can hold its own regardless.
I admit I find myself a little confused by the inclusion of the Astronomer. Perhaps, again, I’ve missed a nuance of the theme that’s connecting all of these vignettes together, but it seems odd that she moves on where no other characters do/can—perhaps even more so because she is the second entry in this story, which sets up this expectation that all of these vignettes are going to be as different from each other as the first two are.
Let me be clear, author: these are nitpicks. This story was delightful to read, and managed to be both pretty and engaging at once, despite its (relatively minor) issues. I really did enjoy reading this one.
HHHHHOOOORRRRRSSSEEE
Tier: Strong
When this started, I was immediately put off. If there are any subjects that annoy me, it's that which started this story.
Then the next scene came along, and I'm like "huhwha?" Suddenly, I'm interested once more.
The overall effect is strong, and I thought it delightfully creative on the whole. Every scene held my interest simply for the sake of trying to figure out where your were going with this. For being so unexpected and yet still bringing it all together so nicely, I approve.
I note people seem to be confused on the Astronomer. I, however, think it's not quite so off. In fact, I think the Astronomer faces the same conclusion as all the others, but in a way that was subtle and unrecognized even by the victim. It's wistful, it's painful, but it went away. For now. As they say, there's more than one way to skin a cat.
Anyway, great story. Not my favorite so far, and I can see some of the issues that have been raised by others (particularly what >>QuillScratch said about the prose), but definitely a solid piece worthy of attention.
Then the next scene came along, and I'm like "huhwha?" Suddenly, I'm interested once more.
The overall effect is strong, and I thought it delightfully creative on the whole. Every scene held my interest simply for the sake of trying to figure out where your were going with this. For being so unexpected and yet still bringing it all together so nicely, I approve.
I note people seem to be confused on the Astronomer. I, however, think it's not quite so off. In fact, I think the Astronomer faces the same conclusion as all the others, but in a way that was subtle and unrecognized even by the victim. It's wistful, it's painful, but it went away. For now. As they say, there's more than one way to skin a cat.
Anyway, great story. Not my favorite so far, and I can see some of the issues that have been raised by others (particularly what >>QuillScratch said about the prose), but definitely a solid piece worthy of attention.
Ah... looks like I'm in the Grinch seat for this one. :( I'm afraid this didn't work for me at all. The first section was a downer, but then I saw what was going on, looked for connections, couldn't find them, looked for something of interest, couldn't find anything, and finally became outright irritated at the final section.
I'll cover that last bit first, since it's an isolated complaint. Big blocks of italics are hard on my eyes. Big blocks of flowery vagueness about alien entities are hard on my brain, especially without any warning or buildup. Both together are nigh impossible to read. My eyes slide right off it and my brain doesn't retain any of the information. Getting through that last chunk alone took several shelvings and the better part of an evening. I think I finally understand what's going on, but whyyyyyy the italics?
Ok, on to actual analysis. "Variations on a theme" is a hard sell for me in this format, because it's hard to distinguish from just writing a bunch of mini-drabbles that fit the prompt until the aggregate meets the length requirement. In order for this to work, I'm looking for at least some of the individual segments to qualify as stories themselves, with beginning/middle/end structure, characters, and conflicts, and for there to be a strong running theme that can be easily discerned in every segment. This is mediocre on the first criterion and a no for me on the second.
What is the overarching theme supposed to be? Death? Questionable in Void, not present at all in Astronomer. Yearning? Lover yearns, Astronomer yearns. Climber has a sudden burst of desire. I could buy yearning maybe but it's a stretch. Diver does not yearn, "the angle of her head suggests she was striving at the end to see something" is the only hint in that direction I see, and it's immediately undermined by the emphasis on how she was no longer capable of rational thought. Philosopher sort of yearns, though it seems more of a natural lifestyle to them than a distinct want or longing. The Void does not yearn for anything more than not to be torn apart. The Void conjectures (or "feels" somehow) that the sparks inside it maybe are doing this because they maybe want some sort of something, which might be called yearning if you stretch it super far.
On my first several passes I would've said theme wasn't there at all. Analyzing it line by line now, I can kind of sort of see a case for a theme of yearning, but it's anything but clear and easy for me to discern. I can't find much in the way of conflict anywhere except The Void's section, and I can't find a narrative arc in any save perhaps The Climber.
On an overall "liked it" level... I didn't. My affection was never captured, and only The Climber and The Diver briefly aroused my interest.
How would I improve this? ... Well, I'm unabashedly a narrative person, so I wouldn't write variations on a theme to begin with, I'd pick the most interesting one of these and expand it into a single strong story. But that's probably not too helpful.
How would I improve this while retaining the variations form as an experiment? See above. Pick a theme and emphasize it clearly in every segment, make absolutely sure the reader can see exactly how they all tie together. Keywords repeated in each segment might be a useful device. I'd feel a lot better about the shaky theme interps if I could see the actual word "yearn" present everywhere. Specific connections between the segments might help too, maybe The Diver or The Climber was The Lover's other half, or maybe The Astronomer could have an explicit connection to The Void. ... Or maybe not, since The Void is so radically divorced from the rest I'd probably prefer to cut it entirely.
In addition to that, I would expand the segments such that at least a majority of them could stand by themselves. The Climber might be fine on its own, but the rest need some motion and conflict. "Show, don't tell" is key here. Show The Astronomer's past, don't tell it. Show The Philosopher, maybe even from the perspective.of somebody else. Maybe don't start with The Lover, I'm not sure quite what to do with him but I'm not generally fond of "suicide because sad" scenes anyway.
All that said, certainly a bold experiment. Thank you for writing! Sorry to come off so critically, I usually wouldn't, but wanted to provide my view in full here since it's seemingly so different from all the other comments thus far.
I'll cover that last bit first, since it's an isolated complaint. Big blocks of italics are hard on my eyes. Big blocks of flowery vagueness about alien entities are hard on my brain, especially without any warning or buildup. Both together are nigh impossible to read. My eyes slide right off it and my brain doesn't retain any of the information. Getting through that last chunk alone took several shelvings and the better part of an evening. I think I finally understand what's going on, but whyyyyyy the italics?
Ok, on to actual analysis. "Variations on a theme" is a hard sell for me in this format, because it's hard to distinguish from just writing a bunch of mini-drabbles that fit the prompt until the aggregate meets the length requirement. In order for this to work, I'm looking for at least some of the individual segments to qualify as stories themselves, with beginning/middle/end structure, characters, and conflicts, and for there to be a strong running theme that can be easily discerned in every segment. This is mediocre on the first criterion and a no for me on the second.
What is the overarching theme supposed to be? Death? Questionable in Void, not present at all in Astronomer. Yearning? Lover yearns, Astronomer yearns. Climber has a sudden burst of desire. I could buy yearning maybe but it's a stretch. Diver does not yearn, "the angle of her head suggests she was striving at the end to see something" is the only hint in that direction I see, and it's immediately undermined by the emphasis on how she was no longer capable of rational thought. Philosopher sort of yearns, though it seems more of a natural lifestyle to them than a distinct want or longing. The Void does not yearn for anything more than not to be torn apart. The Void conjectures (or "feels" somehow) that the sparks inside it maybe are doing this because they maybe want some sort of something, which might be called yearning if you stretch it super far.
On my first several passes I would've said theme wasn't there at all. Analyzing it line by line now, I can kind of sort of see a case for a theme of yearning, but it's anything but clear and easy for me to discern. I can't find much in the way of conflict anywhere except The Void's section, and I can't find a narrative arc in any save perhaps The Climber.
On an overall "liked it" level... I didn't. My affection was never captured, and only The Climber and The Diver briefly aroused my interest.
How would I improve this? ... Well, I'm unabashedly a narrative person, so I wouldn't write variations on a theme to begin with, I'd pick the most interesting one of these and expand it into a single strong story. But that's probably not too helpful.
How would I improve this while retaining the variations form as an experiment? See above. Pick a theme and emphasize it clearly in every segment, make absolutely sure the reader can see exactly how they all tie together. Keywords repeated in each segment might be a useful device. I'd feel a lot better about the shaky theme interps if I could see the actual word "yearn" present everywhere. Specific connections between the segments might help too, maybe The Diver or The Climber was The Lover's other half, or maybe The Astronomer could have an explicit connection to The Void. ... Or maybe not, since The Void is so radically divorced from the rest I'd probably prefer to cut it entirely.
In addition to that, I would expand the segments such that at least a majority of them could stand by themselves. The Climber might be fine on its own, but the rest need some motion and conflict. "Show, don't tell" is key here. Show The Astronomer's past, don't tell it. Show The Philosopher, maybe even from the perspective.of somebody else. Maybe don't start with The Lover, I'm not sure quite what to do with him but I'm not generally fond of "suicide because sad" scenes anyway.
All that said, certainly a bold experiment. Thank you for writing! Sorry to come off so critically, I usually wouldn't, but wanted to provide my view in full here since it's seemingly so different from all the other comments thus far.
I gave this one a brief shout-out in the podcast, and it's hovering low in my top five. The good: Every individual scene is vivid to bursting, the writing is crisp, and the entire piece feels saturated with meaning. The bad: Basically what >>Ranmilia said about the not-quite-there feeling of the core theme here. Everything feels like it individually connects to the "staring into the abyss" prompt, but I can't draw lines through that central idea in a way that makes the ideas feel connected to each other.
Maybe the problem is that it's very easy to read the Astronomer's mention of David, and her first star party, as connective tissue: making David the Lover, and the Astronomer and Climber the same person. But that slams into a wall when the Diver and Philosopher vigorously resist any connections to the others (especially with the Philosopher's abstractness … well, near-madness), leaving your five standard tales feeling half-linked. The Void is a reasonable attempt at drawing them all together, but the scope just is so far removed from the others that it doesn't feel particularly satisfying even if you spot it a role as the thematic centerpoint.
If I were to edit this, I would either:
1) work more detail into the five scenes which made it clear that none of the five were linked — doing far more name-dropping and scene-setting, grounding each of them in their own little bubbles, perhaps even hinting that they were all temporally separated as well. Then swing in with the Void as the only possible common element.
or 2) Interlink all five characters and leave the Void out of it.
Everything's in place for this to be fantastic, but in its current form it feels like its meaning is just out of reach, and that left it feeling empty to me.
Tier: (high) Strong
Maybe the problem is that it's very easy to read the Astronomer's mention of David, and her first star party, as connective tissue: making David the Lover, and the Astronomer and Climber the same person. But that slams into a wall when the Diver and Philosopher vigorously resist any connections to the others (especially with the Philosopher's abstractness … well, near-madness), leaving your five standard tales feeling half-linked. The Void is a reasonable attempt at drawing them all together, but the scope just is so far removed from the others that it doesn't feel particularly satisfying even if you spot it a role as the thematic centerpoint.
If I were to edit this, I would either:
1) work more detail into the five scenes which made it clear that none of the five were linked — doing far more name-dropping and scene-setting, grounding each of them in their own little bubbles, perhaps even hinting that they were all temporally separated as well. Then swing in with the Void as the only possible common element.
or 2) Interlink all five characters and leave the Void out of it.
Everything's in place for this to be fantastic, but in its current form it feels like its meaning is just out of reach, and that left it feeling empty to me.
Tier: (high) Strong
So, let's lead by saying that each individual vignette is quite nicely written. Super solid and pleasant prose all around.
I have a bit of a problem with the fact that each vignette kinda blends together because of the narrative voice you use. The scenarios don't feel like unique individuals. They all roughly feel like the same vaguely poetic person. And then the Void kinda slams in and does the same thing, except being way harder to actually parse (it actually took me a couple reads to both stop glazing over trying to read it and figure it out).
I think I get the idea of the linked narrative you're going for, but ultimately I don't super feel it? It's a series of thematically linked vignettes, but I don't really get a satisfying connection to the Void experience. Moreover, it is so disconnected from the relatively mundane and simple experiences that you covered otherwise that it really just falls flat.
I have a bit of a problem with the fact that each vignette kinda blends together because of the narrative voice you use. The scenarios don't feel like unique individuals. They all roughly feel like the same vaguely poetic person. And then the Void kinda slams in and does the same thing, except being way harder to actually parse (it actually took me a couple reads to both stop glazing over trying to read it and figure it out).
I think I get the idea of the linked narrative you're going for, but ultimately I don't super feel it? It's a series of thematically linked vignettes, but I don't really get a satisfying connection to the Void experience. Moreover, it is so disconnected from the relatively mundane and simple experiences that you covered otherwise that it really just falls flat.