Per Diventare - One half..., Chapter 1
novel, literary, fiction, drama
Published on:
Jul. 7, 2008, 5:31pmWord Count:
3343Last Edited:
Jul. 7, 2008, 5:43pmWork Description
Some people choose their lives. Some let life choose them. Per Diventare is about two women from two different worlds, struggling to make sense of their existance.
This is one half of the story...
Chapter Description
The storm is coming, but where is Karl?
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The old collection of movies lined up in alphabetical order on the shelves. An Affair to Remember, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Casablanca…Her fingers slid across the cases, stopping on "A Streetcar Named Desire".
"Nobody does drama like Vivian Leigh," she said, sliding the movie into the player. She shut off the lights and curled into a corner of the couch, pulling the pink afghan over her shoulders, its ratted fringe draping over her sloppily painted toenails. She lifted the mug of tea to her lips, blowing on the steam as she watched Blanche Dubois stumble around the New Orleans train station.
At night, when Karl was gone, she settled in for a night with her
old friends, the movies. She had to rely on them once the
debt collectors started calling. Cable TV was the first to
go. Karl, her husband, threw fits complaining every chance he
found, but she liked the silence.
Blanche and Stella were two of her best friends. They never
failed her. They never changed. They helped her
forget.
The trees outside scratched the windows like feral cats searching
for shelter. She didn't care. Nor did she care about
the stack of bills by the door, or the scattered Coke cans
underneath the coffee table. She ignored the growing pile of
laundry and the dishes overflowing in the sink.
She preferred their world where everything was black and white. Windows reached from ceiling to floor. Staircases dripped with wrought iron steel work, winding their way to another scene. Music illuminated every emotion.
Stella loved Blanche the way a sister should, despite the complicated tapestry in her head.
She'd always wished for a sister growing up. Someone to set up a tea party in the basement, so they could pretend to be mothers, burping their dolls against their chest like it mattered. She wished she'd had a confidant when Jared Lavechek first kissed her by the river and then shoved his hand up her shirt, grabbing her breast. She wanted to share her fear and how she felt sick, but couldn't tell him no.
She understood when Blanche begged, "Don't, don't stand back with
the brutes.”
She understood Blanche's dislike for Stanley. She hated him,
the primitive beast ragging from one tantrum to another.
Smashing things as if he had money to buy more. Cursing at
Stella as if she was responsible for his shortcomings. Oh,
how she hated Stanley, screaming at the bottom of the stairs,
desperate and needing, in his ripped white tee shirt.
"Stella. Stella."
She imagined running her hands through his sweaty hair and his fingers clutching her back. Damn Stanley and his blunt indifference towards Blanche's feelings and mishaps. Damn him and the way she longed to have a man who wanted her as much as Stanley wanted Stella. Damn him.
Her gaze on the television didn’t waver as she finished the last
sips of tea.
Something slammed into the window.
Her throat tightened as she gazed through the shadows of her living
room, watching for a figure. Seeing nothing, she took a deep
breath and pulled the afghan around her shoulders. She walked
out to the front porch and opened the screen door, sticking her
head into the storm. "Hello?” The wind ripped the word
from her mouth and tossed it into the night. "Hello?"
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This first page moves along nicely and smoothly. The mental dialogue is excellent as she lives out the fantasy in her head, ignoring all of reality going on around her. There are a few places the writing could be smoother; however, but even if not changed, I would still rate the first page as excellent.
The old collection of movies lined up in alphabetical order on the shelves. An Affair to Remember, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Casablanca…Her fingers slid across the cases, stopping on "A Streetcar Named Desire".
Think about changing the first part to "The old collection of movies were lined alphabetically on the shelves."
Also, pull out the last line and let it stand alone as a paragraph, which I believe will rev up the dramatic affect. I believe also you want to say "desperate and needy...."
She understood Blanche's dislike for Stanley. She hated him, the primitive beast ragging from one tantrum to another. Smashing things as if he had money to buy more. Cursing at Stella as if she was responsible for his shortcomings. Oh, how she hated Stanley, screaming at the bottom of the stairs, desperate and needing, in his ripped white tee shirt. "Stella. Stella."
This has the beginning of an excellent story and will probably come back and read more of it.
Great job!
Shilohx7
Absolutely brilliant. I can't wait to read more. How can I critique something so nearly perfect?! I just had one or two things but they are so not worth mentioning right now, and besides I have already forgotten. You are awesome!
I really enjoyed reading this work. I have been so caught up on reading fantasy and SciFi that it was different reading a character driven story line that could be a few chapters out of an autobiography. I think for the most part that this is very well done. I think there are some places in which the word is awkward or not correct. Try reading the piece out loud and you will see what I mean. The other thing is I think so many of your sentences are sooo long and comma ridden that I find myself regularly having to go back and reread them to make sure I understood them completely. You could do with some variety to your sentence length.
This story is very real and the character is fleshed out well. I am interested to see what becomes of the "secret" cell phone and why Justin left without a trace.
Nice work.
I only had time to read the first few pages this morning, but I
wanted to provide you with some feedback...and you will probably
hear more from me when I can finish the piece later. 
I really like your style of writing. You are able to provide a lot of description without making it feel like you are providing a lot of description. A lot of times when I read my own works, I notice that I try to fit too much informaiton into a small section of the piece, making it feel cramped. You have a way of not doing this. Every characteristic that you augment your character with flows naturally into the scene. I was very impressed by that. I really felt like I was getting to know your main character which is essential for a piece like this to really come alive. I am interested to find out more about her as I read more.
As a reader, the transition from the movie-watching to the
tornado warning was a little abrupt. I think I was so caught
up in the language and characterization that the movement hit a
little too hard for me. I am not actually sure what to
suggest to make it better though...I apologize for that.
In any case, I am enjoying this piece thus far.
I don't normally like this kind of fiction, but I like this one! Very nicely presented.
I'm so happy to be reading your new work, Amber. You have, not only a superb talent for finding the right word, but the ability to pull your reader into your story and never let them go. You create the kind of art which has always appealed to me: helpless tragedy. I appreciate the reality you show; it makes the rest of us feel almost normal.
I did notice one instance where I thought the wording was awkward:
The repetition of closed looks weird. Maybe just switched the lock.
I loved the contrasting emotions you gave your protagonist. She's a kind, loving, protective mother. She's a neglected, emotionally-abandoned, loving wife. She lies to herself...nothing more real could be written about a character.
Thank you so much for writing this. Thank yo for posting it. I hate reading how you deleted several of your older works from your portfolio. I'd still like to go back through them and see what I've missed over the last two years.