posted by WDavid at 10/11/2006 05:49:00 PM
The Festival of Atlcualo
By W. David MacKenzie
(c) 2006
Chapter 1: Disaster at the Cenote
The cenote gaped wide on the jungle floor and the shafts of sunlight that struggled through the verdant canopy did little to illuminate more than the jagged edges of the cavernous opening to the underworld, but it was enough. The cadre of priest approached the cenote in slow measured steps. Their solemn gait and monochrome costumes were unnatural for men accustomed to brightly plumed and beaded finery and frenetic ritual, but during the five unlucky days of Uayeb they sought to avoid the attention of spirits. Three-Crocodile, the thirteen year old pupil of the First Priest Tlaloc, had painted his skin with watered charcoal ash and clothed himself in a gray cotton tunic so as to call even less attention to himself than usual.
The First Priests of twenty gods and goddesses were arrayed around the cenote. Directly behind each was his Second, holding some precious statuette or decorated urn or basket of fruit. When an appropriate interval for calm reflection had passed, Lord Tayauh, High Priest of the city and First Priest of the war god Huitzilopochtli, stepped to the very edge of the cenote and spread his arms wide.
"Lords of Mictlan we call to you. Lords of Xibalba we call to you, Lords of the Nine Levels of the Underworld we call to you." Lord Tayauh was old; his voice was as rough as gravel and his arms trembled. "The end of Uayeb draws near and we send tribute to you so that you might have valuable treasure to bribe the evil spirits to retreat to your realms. We send beautiful offerings to you that you might entice the souls of the wicked back to your sides. We send succulent food to you that you might have strength to seal the gates of the underworld for another year."
Lord Tayauh lowered his arms and turned away from the cenote to face his Second. The subordinate priest handed an intricately carved gold vase the High Priest and the old man strained under its weight. Turning back to the cenote, Lord Tayauh slowly extended the heavy vase out over the chasm. "Huitzilopochtli sends treasures to the Lords of Mictlan." The gold vase dropped into the chasm.
Three Crocodile could not tell if the High Priest let go of the offering as planned or if it fortuitously slipped from his exhausted grasp at just the right moment, but Lord Tayauh looked relieved to be free of its weight in any event. The jungle was silent for several breaths then a faint splash signaled that the offering had fallen into the sacred river and begun it's journey to the underworld.
The ceremony continued in this fashion as each First made an offering to the Lords of Mictlan on behalf of their god or goddess. Tezcatlipoca offered a turquoise jaguar; Coatlicue offered a basket of ripe cactus fruit; Ehecatl offered an amphora of pickled quetzal birds. On and on it went until only one offering remained.
Three-Crocodile's heart beat a little faster and he smiled as Lord Cocozca, First of Tlaloc, god of the rains and waters and his own foster father, stepped solemnly to the edge of the cenote and made his obeisance to the Lords of The Underworld then turned to his Second, Mazatl, to receive the tribute. Three-Crocodile had helped prepare the crystal jar of mineral water from the sacred hot springs. He whispered the ritual prayers over the vessel the night before and applied the beeswax to seal the stopper while Cocozca and Mazatl watched. Now he was excited to see it offered to the Lords of Mictlan.
Cocozca held the crystal jar above the cenote. "Tlaloc sends nourishing waters to the Lords of..." Before Cocozca could complete the invocation and send the offering on its way, the edge of the cenote beneath his feet crumbled and the First of Tlaloc fell into the chasm.
"Father!" Three-Crocodile's cry was drowned out by the stunned wails of the other priests gathered at the cenote, then one voice rose above the others.
"Look, he's there, grasping that root, " Lord Pochotl, Ehecatl's First, pointed to the inside edge of the cenote.
Three-Crocodile's body tingled with dread and hope.
Mazatl rushed to the edge of the cenote and leaned over to offer his arm to the senior priest but he could not reach Cocozca's hand. He got down onto his belly and stretched over the edge with both hands, but the unstable edge gave way again sending Mazatl and Cocozca plunging into the darkness.
Everyone at the cenote took a silent step back from the edge and listened. Three-Crocodile held his breath and listened. The ceaselessly noisy jungle paused to listen. Then it came. A loud splash echoed up from the dark cenote as Cocozca and Mazatl began their journey to the underworld.
Fear and horror swam across Three-Crocodile's face as he folded himself into a shivering crouch. It was his fault. He misspoke the prayer for Tlaloc's offering to the Lords of Mictlan. The Lords of The Underworld saw some gap in the beeswax seal. They found a flaw...his flaw...in some aspect of the offering and Cocozca and Mazatl had paid for his blunder. Tears welled up in Three-Crocodile's eyes and trickled down his cheeks leaving flesh colored trails where they washed away the watered-charcoal paint.
As if Three-Crocodile's sobs had been a signal, the parrots and insects and monkeys resumed their noisy habits. Lord Tayauh drew in a long rattling breath, moved slowly to the edge of the cenote, and extended his arms as he had two lifetimes ago at the beginning of the ceremony. His voice, though soft, carried to all those gathered and, Three-Crocodile assumed, to the Lords of The Underworld as well.
"The people of Anahuac thank the Lords of Mictlan for accepting these offerings. The Yucatec people are blessed to provide for the Lords of Xibalba." Lord Tayauh paused to take a deep breath. "The people of the city are humbled that the Lords of The Underworld have taken two of our number to be their servants in eternity."
Lord Tayauh lowered his arms and turned away from the cenote. He led the long procession of darkly clad and somber priests back to the city and Three-Crocodile, after wiping away the tears and smearing the paint on his face even more, followed.
Chapter 2: A Guide for Cocozca
As soon as the Keeper of the Hours had called out the midnight and Uayeb had passed completely, Three-Crocodile gathered up his pack, grabbed an oil lamp as he left the temple of Tlaloc, and jogged out of the city. Stone and adobe buildings gave way to plank and thatch cottages and then to fallow fields just waiting for the Festival of Atlcualo when the priests of Tlaloc would tell the farmers the auspicious planting days. But with Cocozca and Mazatl gone there were no priests of Tlaloc—no one to read the signs and say when the rains would come and when to plant. Three-Crocodile ran faster.
When he reached the cenote, he went carelessly to the edge and sat with his legs dangling over the abyss. From his pack he withdrew a topaz figurine and rolled the dog sculpture between his hands repeatedly to transfer some of his body heat to the cold gemstone statuette. He willed some of his life force into the carved dog.
"The first dogs on the earth had been pets of Mictlantecuhtli, King of the Underworld." Cocozca's kind voice drifted through Three-Crocodiles mind like a butterfly on a summer breeze. "The King beat the dogs too many times and they attacked him. In punishment, the King banished them to the maze of the underworld. The dogs wandered four years through the nine levels of the underworld and finally found the secret path to our world and escaped to become man's helpers and companions." Cocozca's voice trailed off in his mind.
"Now, when men die," Three-Crocodile continued aloud, "we burn a dog along with the body so that it can lead our spirit soul through the maze of the underworld and protect us from the wrath of Mictlantecuhtli." Three-Crocodile's eyes filled with tears but he closed his eyes tightly against them and rubbed the figurine even harder.
"Cocozca, I could not get a dog to send with you on your journey but you once told me that the shape of a thing carries the spirit of the thing, so I pray this offering will help guide you and Mazatl safely through the maze." Three-Crocodile dropped the orange gemstone dog into the cenote and when it finally splashed into the river deep below his feet he stopped fighting the tears.
It would take nothing more than a shifting of his weight and Three-Crocodile could be with Cocozca again. A painless slide into the sacred chasm would allow him to deliver the dog spirit directly into Cocozca's hand. It would free him of the grief and relieve him of the uncertainty of the future. Sacrifice was the path to the gods and sacrificing himself now was the path to his father.
Father...Three-Crocodile could not remember a time when Cocozca had not been his father, but there was a time before. Cocozca had told him of the endless days of rain that brought the flood; how the waters, full of Tlaloc’s rage, killed many farmers including Three-Crocodile's parents; how he had been found in the branches of a tree when the waters had receded; how an old farmwife had brought the infant Three-Crocodile to the temple of Tlaloc. Three-Crocodile smiled faintly as he remembered Cocozca telling him the story.
"Here is a babe to sacrifice to Tlaloc," the old woman told me as she passed you into my arms.
"Ah," said I. "The god has told you to offer up this child?"
"No," said the woman, "but it is clear he wants the boy or he would not have sent the flood."
"You are wise in the ways of the god," said I. "So, you believe that Tlaloc is so inept as to miss a screaming infant and leave him sitting in a tree?"
"You misunderstand me, Lord Priest," said the woman. "I meant only that..."
"Perhaps you should leave interpretations of the god's actions to one such as I who has been trained to the purpose." said I.
"Yes, that is exactly what I meant." said the old farmwife as she hung her head in shame and retreated from the temple.
"Of course," Cocozca told him, "she was perfectly correct. You should have been sacrificed to the god at the next opportunity, but something staid my hand. Perhaps it was the god's will, perhaps it was the way your eyes glinted in the torchlight." Cocozca's hearty chuckle whispered through Three-Crocodile's memory. "I summoned a Calendar Priest from the temple of Huitzilopochtli to read your destiny. He told me that you were not to be sacrificed but were to be consecrated into the temple of Tlaloc and trained to the priesthood. So, you see, you do indeed serve Tlaloc, just not in the same way the Farmwife assumed."
That memory caused Three-Crocodile to pause. Tlaloc had decreed that Three-Crocodile not be sacrificed as a babe, that he join his priesthood here in the world. Was he now to second guess the god's will because he grieved for the loss of his foster-father? Were his selfish feelings more important than the will of Tlaloc? Sacrifice was the path to the gods, but sacrifice was pain and loss in the service of the gods, not cowardice and fear and self-indulgent suicide. Three-Crocodile's resolve grew as he realized that Tlaloc had shown him an important lesson this night and he'd have something for which to be truly grateful at the Festival of Atlcualo...in...two...days.
Oh Tlaloc! The festival was to begin at dawn on the day after tomorrow...Tlaloc's festival...the festival lead by the priests of Tlaloc...and the Lords of Mictlan had just claimed both the First and Second Priests of Tlaloc. Three-Crocodile was now the only priest to Tlaloc in the entire city!
Chapter 3: The High Priest’s Council
“I first want to tell you both how sorry I am at the loss of Cocozca and Mazatl. They will be greatly missed.” The First of Huitzilopochtli was an elderly man and his voice was gravelly from too many years of ecstatic ritualism. “However, with Tlaloc’s Festival of Atlcualo beginning tomorrow, we must find a way to proceed.”
Three-Crocodile’s throat tightened at the memory of yesterday’s tragic events. He opened his mouth to thank the city’s High Priest for his kind words, but he was cut off by Pochotl’s reedy voice.
“I could not agree more, Lord Tayauh. As First of Ehecatl I stand ready to assume full control of Atlcualo.” Pochotl sat taller in his chair as he spoke. “The god of the winds plays a significant role in the sacrifice to beseech the rains and I see no other way to proceed.”
“Lord...” Three-Crocodile’s near whisper disappeared under the husky voice of the elder priest.
“I appreciate your offer, Pochotl, but I and several of the other Firsts think it would be best to delay the Festival for a few days so that we can request a new First of Tlaloc from the capital.” Silence filled the room briefly as Pochotl and Three-Crocodile absorbed the implications of the High Priest’s words.
Three-Crocodile leaned forward “With all due...”
“Lord Tayauh! That is a dangerous plan.” Pochotl rose from his chair and ticked off points with his fingers. “Last year the rains began late and ended early. The maize crop was nearly lost. The water in the wells sank lower than anyone can remember. Tlaloc is already angry with our community. Do you dare risk delaying his ceremonies?”
“My point ex...” Three-Crocodile began but Lord Tayauh, still spry in his old age, sprang to his feet, tipping his chair backward in his zeal.
“And how much favor will Tlaloc find in having the First of Ehecatl officiating at his festival?” The men stood eye to eye, neither one blinking.
“I’ll do it.” Three-Crocodile was surprised to hear his voice booming through the room.
Distracted from their standoff by Three-Crocodile’s unexpected outburst, the two priests turned to face him. The First of Huitzilopochtli looked thoughtful but Pochotl’s face was a vicious sneer. “You? Cocozca’s Shadow?”
Three-Crocodile flinched at the derisive nickname and nearly retreated back into his shell, but the sound of his dead master’s name gave him strength and he stood to face Pochotl. “Yes, me. I can lead the festival.”
“You’re just a boy.” Pochotl stepped toward him and prodded the youth’s chest as he listed Three-Crocodile’s deficiencies. “You have not completed your training; you’ve never officiated over a complete ceremony let alone an entire festival; and you’ve never sacrificed anything more substantial than a squash.”
Three-Crocodile deflated a little with each point Pochotl made--all were completely true and he was about to collapse back into his chair when the old priest spoke.
“Could you really do it?”
Pochotl turned to gape at Tayauh. “You’re not seriously...”
“Be still, Pochotl.” The First of Ehecatl folded into his chair and the old man’s scowl softened as he repeated his question to the boy. “Could you do it?”
Three-Crocodile stood in silent thought for several moments before he replied in a soft but steady tone. “I saw Lord Cocozca lead the festival four times; I know the rites; and I am the only priest of Tlaloc within three days of this city.”
“Priest? Ha!”
“Pochotl, I will tolerate no further disrespect for a fellow priest.”
Three-Crocodile’s spirit soared at the support of the city’s primary religious leader.
“My son, you have spoken the one basic truth of this crisis. You are the only person available to us who is trained in the rituals and consecrated to Tlaloc. You will lead the Festival of Atlcualo.”
Pochotl was out of his chair and striding toward the door before the First of Huitzilopochtli finished speaking. “This is a mistake, Lord Tayauh. Mark my words--the boy will bring disaster down upon us all.”
Scene 4: Reflection in the Temple
Three-Crocodile dipped the cloth into the honeyed pulque and held it over the crying infant's head. Several drops of the syrupy fluid dripped onto the child's face before Three-Crocodile's aim improved and the drips fell into the babe's wide-open mouth. The tiny boy's screams turned to coughs as the sweetened alcoholic beverage trickled down its throat. It probably burned a little, Three-Crocodile thought; regular pulque certainly burned his own throat when he'd sipped it for ceremonial purposes. A few moments later the coughing eased and Three-Crocodile lowered the tip of the cloth into the babe's mouth and it sucked eagerly at the liquid locked in the weave.
Three-Crocodile had prepared the sacrificial infant for the opening ceremony of the Festival of Atlcualo six times before now. It had been one of the first important tasks Cocozca had entrusted to him, but this time the ritual hung heavily in his heart. Three-Crocodile's grief still haunted him and the familiar preparations called painful attention to the absence of Cocozca and Mazatl.
When the child had suckled enough pulque to ease it into a painless sleep Three-Crocodile set the cloth aside and said a prayer to comfort the infant's three souls. He picked up the bowl of blue paint and using a soft-bristled brush painted the babe's body and limbs in Tlaloc's sacred blue. Nearing the end of the ritual of preparation, he dipped his thumb in the blue paint and drew a line across the child's forehead then painted a similar line above his own brow. Another prayer and he was done. The child was ready to be received by Tlaloc.
Three-Crocodile's own preparations took a bit more time. He was used to helping Cocozca into the priestly costume, but there was no one here to help him. Law forbade those not consecrated to the god of rains and waters to enter the holy chamber, so, despite Lord Tayauh’s faith that he could lead the ceremony, he would have to dress himself and pray that he got all of the ornaments and icons and relics placed correctly to satisfy his god.
Satisfying Tlaloc was his life now; it had been his life since he had been an infant, really. If he'd been brought to any other temple in the city he would have been sacrificed to some other god almost at once but Three-Crocodile saw Tlaloc's hand in the farmwife connecting the flood and the babe in the tree to the rain god. He also saw Tlaloc's hand in Cocozca's decision to have the infant's destiny read by a calendar priest. Tlaloc's will was there in that reading of the sacred days as well.
But today's events, certainly Tlaloc had not touched the earth to sacrifice his own First and Second. Cocozca and Mazatl had been faithful servants of the god and did not deserve to be.... Three-Crocodile paused his costuming as a thought came to him. Mazatl and his foster-father had been sacrificed to the Lords of the Underworld, yes, but the method of their sacrifice had been their plunge into the river at the bottom of the cenote. Tlaloc? Yes, Three-Crocodile was sure of it now. The god had indeed touched the very earth, not once but twice, to sacrifice his First and Second in the sacred river. Three-Crocodile's heart fluttered in joy as he realized that Cocozca and Mazatl were not seized by the Lords of Mictlan for some error of his in blessing Tlaloc's offering, but were called by Tlaloc himself and now sat at the god's side.
His fingers flew over knots and fasteners as he hurried through the final preparations. His souls rejoiced to be freed from grief as a butterfly flitters free from its cocoon. It was Tlaloc's will that Three-Crocodile ascend quickly in his priesthood. Surely there was no mistaking his reading of the events. Like a woman at the loom, Tlaloc's hand was deftly weaving the threads of his life to place him in a position of power, but what was his ultimate goal? What was to be the finished design on Tlaloc's cloth?
Curious, but happy, Three-Crocodile examined his reflection in the polished gold mirror. Satisfied that everything was perfect, he picked up the ritual obsidian blade. The glass-stone knife had been honed to a bone-slicing edge by the finest artisan in the city and Three-Crocodile was extremely careful to hook the sacrificial weapon to a safe spot on his costume where he could reach it easily but not cut himself with it accidentally.
With his priestly garb complete and his mind eased by his reading of Tlaloc’s will, Three-Crocodile strode confidently to the stone bed on which the infant slept. He lifted the child and it’s rumpled blanket from the stone and a small piece of paper fluttered to the ground. Shifting the child to the crook of one arm, Three-Crocodile stooped to pick up the scrap. The paper was old and the glyphs were drawn in an unfamiliar hand. It was a name-day card, such as a calendar priest would give to an infant’s parents when its destiny was read. It showed the child’s day-name, the patron gods of its Shadow, Spirit, and Aura Souls, and it’s patron god of healing. The name on the card was Three-Crocodile.
Scene 5: The Sacrifice to Tlaloc
Confusion swirled in Three-Crocodile’s mind. Was this his name-day card…the one given to Cocozca when he summoned the calendar priest all those years ago? How could it be here? Was this the name-day card for the infant that he held in his arms? Did its parents tuck the card into the blanket before they gave the child to the temple for sacrifice? Could it be coincidence that it too was named Three-Crocodile?
Horns sounding on the temple terrace wrenched Three-Crocodile out of the maze of questions. The Festival of Atlcualo was about to begin. The name-day card slipped from his fingers as he moved through the temple arches to the terrace atop the stepped pyramid. Under the gold tinged dawn sky he strode to the altar at the leading edge of the terrace. Several paces to the left and right of the sacrificial stone stood Lords Tayauh and Pochotl in flamboyant ritual costumes. Before him, down a flight of two hundred and sixty steps and spread from one end of the Avenue of the Gods to the other, were the city’s sixteen thousand citizens.
A low hum rippled through the crowd as Three-Crocodile stood above them in the growing light. He thought back on what Cocozca had told him about the crowds that gathered for ritual events. With sharp eyes he surveyed the people below and gauged their mood.
The nobles and priests and landowners were closest. Three-Crocodile saw faces he knew, priests that had been present at the cenote, nobles who had heard the tale told. It was likely that many also knew of the meeting in the High Priest’s office. To them he was an untried boy in priest’s plumage. They measured him against Cocozca and waited for him to prove himself before offering their support or plotting against him.
Behind the city's elite were the merchants and artisans and soldiers. They pointed and gossiped. To them, three-Crocodile was a different figure than they’d been expecting—smaller, thinner. If they knew anything of the offerings at the cenote it was by rumors fed to them by their elite customers or officers. Three-Crocodile was sure they murmured of priestly intrigues and sorcery while waiting for the bloody spectacle of sacrifice.
Farthest of all were the farmers and laborers and slaves. They could not tell one priest from another at that distance. They saw only the costume, if they saw anything at all. Cocozca had told him that the commoners cared nothing for the politics behind religion. They wanted only to see that the rituals were performed and that the gods were satisfied. Standing in family knots, they whispered prayers or kneaded talismans for good fortune and plentiful rains.
The sun's edge cleared the horizon and the trumpets sounded again. It was his cue to begin the ceremony. Three-Crocodile held the blue-painted infant high above his head and the crowd below roared to life. He had viewed this ceremony and others from many angles during his training but never from the altar. There, virtually alone and at the focus of everyone's attention, the sound hit him like a hurricane and he fell back a step. The power of the crowd amazed him, but he determined not to be overwhelmed by it. He pushed against the force and regained his position. He turned from side to side with the child held aloft to make sure everyone saw it.
A cool shiver rippled through Three-Crocodile as if the spirit of Tlaloc had touched his Shadow Soul. He laid the child on the right edge of the altar stone. The infant--my name is Three-Crocodile too--occupied only a small space on the slab of volcanic rock. Three-Crocodile looked out over the crowd again--they're ready for my sacrifice--then back to the infant. The child's eyes were open, its gaze locked with his, its voice--no, the voice of your god--was in Three-Crocodile's mind. Three-Crocodile's hand hovered near the hilt of the sacrificial knife--you are my First, my champion--but did not touch it. His heart pounded in his chest--they await a wondrous sign--as he stood motionless atop the pyramid. The rumbling noise of the crowd faded--they are ready to walk a new path--and was replace by rhythmic chanting. "Tlaloc, Tlaloc, Tlaloc..."
The sound of rustling garments came from behind and to his right. "I knew you would fail us!" Lord Pochotl hissed as he drew near. "I will perform the sacrifice myself." With one hand, the interloper reached for the sacrificial knife hanging from Three-Crocodile's belt and with the other made to brush the young priest out of his way.
In the tangle of arms and costumes Three-Crocodile spun and dodged and struck out. Catching the interfering priest off balance and unprepared for his mad action, Three-Crocodile slammed Pochotl's body hard onto the stone altar. The wind rushed from Pochotl's lungs. He lay immobilized on his back, chest heaving, struggling to catch his breath. The blue-painted infant turned its head and quietly looked at the gasping priest.
In his right fist Three-Crocodile held the glass-stone dagger high for all to see. The chanting faded into the background and slowed. Pochotl turned his head to look at Three-Crocodile--thus to all who trespass against the gods--and the untried priest plunged the blade into Pochotl's torso.
Breathless, Pochotl could not scream, but his eyes bulged and his face twisted into a writhing mask of pain. Three-Crocodile sawed the glass-stone knife left and right to enlarge the wound then sliced upward to penetrate Pochotl's diaphragm. He pulled the blade from Pochotl's body and dropped it on the altar then thrust his hand into the steaming gash. He pushed past the tough membranes until he was elbow-deep in the priest's chest and his fingers touched Pochotl's quivering heart.
Three-Crocodile looked deep into Pochotl's wild eyes as he closed his fist around the squirming muscle. Arteries slipped wetly between his fingers. He gave one powerful tug and Pochotl's body convulsed, twitched, and wilted on the altar stone. Three-Crocodile removed his arm from the lifeless man and looked at his prize. Red muck covered his forearm and Pochotls steaming heart oozed a river of blood that drained over his hand to splash on the Pochotl's corpse.
The crowd was silent--stunned.
Three-Crocodile reached down with his free hand and grasped the infant by the scruff of its neck. With the child in one fist and Pochotl's heart in the other, Three-Crocodile raised his hands high to the honor of Tlaloc. He had shown them a wondrous sign and Tlaloc said they were ready to walk a new path but now it was up to Three-Crocodile to convince them that this new way was the word of the god.
“Tlaloc has come to me in a vision and anointed me as his First." Three-Crocodile's voice boomed out with a newfound assertiveness and carried easily to the far edge of the unnaturally quiet throng. "He has set me the task of protecting the children of Uayeb. Tlaloc no longer favors the sacrifice of children. He has said that all children born during Uayeb will be consecrated to his service so that he will have abundant priests to honor his glory."
A murmur rose from the crowd and reading the faces, Three-Crocodile could see joy on the faces of some and concern on others. Some rejoiced that their children would be spared, others worried that the god would not have strength to continue without the blood of the children. A god who did not demand sacrifice to sustain itself was unheard of.
"Today you saw one who would have stopped Tlaloc's will. Through me, the god has dealt with him and his blood has nourished the god. Tlaloc has set me the task of punishing those who sin against the god or who would interfere with his worship. Henceforth the criminal will be Tlaloc’s feast. The evildoer’s blood will bring the life-giving rain and the heretic’s heart will crisp in Tlaloc’s fire.” To punctuate his words, Three-Crocodile tossed Pochotl’s heart into the temple pyre that burned on a landing thirteen steps below the lip of the terrace. It sizzled and smoked as the crowd roared its approval.
Lord Tayauh, all but forgotten by Three-Crocodile in the throws of his ecstatic vision and Pochotl's grizzly sacrifice, walked up behind him. "It is no small thing to change the rites and beliefs of our people, Lord First." Tayauh took the child from Three-Crocodile's grip and for a moment Three-Crocodile thought the High Priest might overrule him in some way and sacrifice the child as originally planned, but the old priest just cradled the infant in his arms and tickled under its chin. "But I think you have done it well."
Three-Crocodile let a relieved sigh slip between his lips.
"Tomorrow, at midday," Lord Tayauh said, "we will hold your coming of age ceremony at the Temple of the Calendar and I will bestow your adult name myself."
"But..." Three-Crocodile tried to object but Lord Tayauh waved him off.
"Yes, I know, the official date is several twenty-days away, but, to my knowledge, there has never been a First Priest bearing a child's name." Lord Tayauh placed his free hand on Three-Crocodile's back and guided him toward the temple anteroom. "We cannot change too many traditions all at once."
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Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Thursday, October 05, 2006
3 Comments:
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The assignment for week four to write an outline for the story we plan to turn in for assignment 6
By WDavid, at 10/05/2006 01:56:00 PM
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Here are the class comments for the outline.
Instructor DeChancie: OK, I read over the outline, and it looks pretty good, but let me ask this. Is this background historical, a variant of Meso-American history, or something you invented based on history? Or is the setting supposed to be another world/planet? I don't know enough about the subject to tell.
WDavid: This outline is for a story set in the world I created in assignment 2. It's a world I've been toying with for a long time and it's finally coming to fruition in sync with this class. You can read more about it at www.firstempires.com but, in brief, it is an alternate history where the native cultures of North and South America are as advanced and robust as any European country of the 15th and 16th century. The culture I'm exploring first is a melding of most of the meso-american cultures, Olmec, Mayan, and Aztec are the strongest influences.
Instructor DeChancie: OK, now I know. This is an "alternate history" story. Good. How would history have gone if....and then you posit alternative historical events. Sure. Now I understand. This idea has been done, and I wish I could cite something for you, but I can't right off the top of my head. Makes little difference. The theme is a long way from being exhausted. It's a fascinating premise, and you should continue to develop it. I like the idea of someone in this culture coming to the independent realization that there is something wrong with human sacrifice. That is a very nice hook on which to hang the whole story.
Cathy Chance: WDavid: This is an interesting story and I think it's really workable if you amp the tension throughout. What does 3-Croc have at stake? What's the risk to him if he doesn't kill the infant? ould he potentially be sacrificed himself? I think there has to be a real threat to him in making this moral decision. Also, I think you need to show some sort of revelation, rather than just facile justification to kill his antagonist and save the baby. To me, this felt more like a telling of myth than a fantasy story. You've given us here the background to the sacrifices performed in Aztec (I think) society. The "sense of wonder" is a little lacking. I'm sorry if this comes across as a little harsh. It's not meant to be. The flow of the story is here and you've already shown us you can create the characters. Keep working on it.
Kim Huett: I mostly have questions after reading this intriguing plot sequence: Does the reader get a sense that these gods really exist and have a hand in the human affairs? Or is it a situation where the priests successfully impose their religious interpretation on the people? Or neither? In 1c, I wonder if the chasm of divine or natural origin? Around 5e, I begin to feel like something is off…. All that plot sequence was leading up to this crisis with the sacrificial babe? And then a few plot sequences later, the story’s ended and 3-Croc is a major change agent in this meso-american religion? It seems too tidy. Perhaps the story could begin closer to that templetop moment, and you could explore the responses of the other priests and the people and show him sweating a little as he makes these bold moves. It seems too smooth and easy. You could show just how one pulls off something like this. It would be neat to read the story.
laf: Well, I'm either getting used to the names -- or they're easier to absorb when they're more spread out (I didn't find it to be a problem when going through the outline) :-) Overall, seems a tight story ... I am curious about the gods (real or only in the priests mind) since Tlaloc's will plays such a key roll in the climax of the story? Does he also lend the boy the strength to take out Pochotl? (even catching him by surprise, there would have been quite a size disparity between them (if he's still using a birth name, he's 7 or less, right?))
10/2/2006 9:45:20 PM
Joe: WDavid - I don't have much to offer here, beyond continuing encouragement. I'm totally engrossed with the premise, the setting, and the characters. You're an alchemist, concocting formulas for elements that would be fatal in the hands of another writer. This story is your own, continue to assert your mastery over it, and ignore any nagging little voices that might distract you from doing so. Keep writing, I'll keep reading. Peace - Joe.
WDavid: LAF...the reference I used said that the giving of an adult name happened after twenty of their 260 day sacred years. They considered the nine months of gestation (the base of their 260 day calendar) to have been his first year, so nineteen more makes the child 13.5 years old by our calendar. Since their mathmatical system is base 20 (ours is base 10) that seems a logical time. I made him 13 for the story and on the verge of his naming ceremony. Young, but not too young to accomplish the task. As for the act of taking down Pochotl, in moments of crisis humans are able to draw from untapped reserves of strength and endurance so why not here when Three-Crocodile believes his god's vision is threatened by Pochotl's interference? As for the reality of the gods...I may come across as a heretic here to many people, but I think their gods are about as real as the gods of our time. Visions and messages from on high come in all shapes and sizes and are left to the interpretation of the receiver. Who can say if your urge to have a corned beef sandwich for lunch is just a tasty idea or a vision placed there by a devine being? Is it simple hunger or god's symbolic way of telling you that vegetarianism is the devil's work? It is the prophet's ability to get his interpretation of the message across to a receptive audience at a key moment that gives the message weight and power.
WDavid: Kim...I think a lot of your questions are addressed in my message to LAF. As for the tidiness, yes, perhaps it is. I see Three-Crocodile's actions coming at a key moment when the people are hyped for a bloody ceremony and when it takes a new turn that both spares some of their children and still gives them bloody ceremonies, they're ready to accept it. There are, by all accounts, an ecstatic people and the supernatural is in every part of their daily lives. Also, their raised to be obedient to authority, so I don't see this as a big stretch.
WDavid: Cathy...You got me...this IS a fable. The "twist" if you want to call it that, that I was saving for the end, is that the story is a cultural myth that a father is telling to his son as a bed time story to explain both how sacrifices used to be and how they evolved to protect the children and punish the evil doers while still paying homage to the gods. For those of you who say "That's a sick and twisted bedtime story, dude!" then you shold try reading the original fairy tales of our own cultures. :-)By WDavid, at 10/05/2006 01:57:00 PM
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Sounds like you have a plan man. It's coming right along and I know it's going to be great. I must say though that the idea of an outline has changed a lot since I went to school back in dino days. We used to write an outline in a few brief words and maybe a sentence, not paragraphs. Oh well, time marches on and drags us along in the dust... Keep up the good work!
By Ruth, at 10/09/2006 01:34:00 PM
Sunday, September 24, 2006
5 Comments:
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Here is assignment three from my current writing class. The assignment was to write a character sketch for a protagonist and an antoginist (250 words for each) and then to write a 500 word dialogue scene to show conflict between them. My dialogue scene is about 150 words too long. Other than that, please be as hash as possible in telling my what I've done wrong here and how you think I should change it to make it right.
By WDavid, at 9/24/2006 08:14:00 PM
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Okay, I only have a couple of comments. #1, I don't think there should be a question mark at the end of Three-Crocodile's sketch since the sentence was not written as a question. #2, I find it very difficult reading these strange names since I don't know a thing about the culture you're writing about and you haven't offered a single clue as to how to pronounce them.
By Ruth, at 9/27/2006 04:32:00 AM
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Ruth...
Thanks for your comments and for struggling through the piece. :-)
The Question mark is a remnant from the first draft that didn't get changed. Sorry. :-)
As for the names...the class members echoed your comments. The names were too unfamiliar and hard to pronounce. I'll post the class comments next along with a pronunciation guide.By WDavid, at 9/27/2006 06:48:00 AM
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Instructor DeChancie: Again shows a great cultural depth and penetration of an alien worldview. Very imaginative story material here. I'm impressed with this one as well.
Cathy Chance: Well done. Personally, I have a hard time with these names, but I understand the setting demands it. Unfortunately, I have a tendency to skip over named I can't pronounce, so it's easy to lose the thread of what's going on. (I've heard others make the same complaint.) Not sure what you can do about it, given the setting.
Joe: Quetzalcoatl, the setting is intriguing, as are the characters, but there are too many exotic names bursting off of the page at one time. They become a noisy cluster that distracts the eye. I didn’t have a problem with the names themselves, but I think that you need less proper nouns, and more common nouns to give me a clearer view of your world. The tension created by the religious politicking that occurs in what appears to be a theocracy is very enticing to me as a reader. The classic tale of a young man trying to adapt to, and also change the world he is maturing in has set well with audiences since our ancestors first began gathering around an evening fire. Well done. Given the quality of your writing, I have no doubt that you can pull this story off. Stay true to your vision!
laf: Goodness ... this is really good, strong dialogue, clearly defined conflict, and sort of the 'coming of age' of Three Crocodile (why wouldn't that be plural, by the way?). I have to echo the concern on the names, perhaps because so many players and gods (plus the city and festival names) are introduced so quickly, we don't have time to assimilate what (to us) are very foreign, unpronounceable names. Right off the get-go, paragraph 1, we have 5 such names alone; in the third paragraph, you add 3 more new names. Not sure if you could use only the titles or only the names for selected characters (to slow down the volume of names) or if you could consider anglicizing some items (e.g. the festival name) ... it's hard to suggest because you don't want to lose the wonderful feel for the culture and richness that you've developed (which is excellent). Other than that, I have no real criticism. Your characters feel true and are acting from genuine motives; the dialogue is real (and fitting language for what would be upper class - the priesthood); your plot is interesting; and I look forward to reading more.
WDavid: In a book I could add a glossary at the end with a pronunciation guide...but I've never seen that done in a short story. Here's a brief tutorial if you're interested in pronouncing Nahuatl (The Aztec language)...
"A" sounds like "AH"
"E" sounds like "AY"
"I" sounds like "EE"
"O" sounds like "OH"
"U" sounds like "OO"
"C" usually sounds like "K"
“CE” sounds like “SAY”
“CI” sounds like “SEE”
“CH” sounds like the beginning of “CHEESE”
"X" sounds like "SH"
"TL" sound like the end of "CATTLE"
The emphasis is always on the next to the last syllable.
So, the names are...
Pochotl Axayaca (Poe-CHO-tl ah-shah-YAH-kah)
Ehecatl (ay-hay-CA-tl)
Tayauh (tah-YAH-oo) (the "H" is silent here)
Cocozca (koe-KOHZ-ka)
Mazatl (mah-ZAH-tl)
Huitzilopochtli (whooeet-zill-oh-POHCH-tlee)
Tlaloc (TLAH-lohk)
Atlcualo (ah-tl-KWAHL-oh)By WDavid, at 9/27/2006 06:51:00 AM
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Even when you know how to pronounce them they don't roll easily off the tongue! Thanks for the short lesson though.
By Ruth, at 9/27/2006 12:03:00 PM
Sunday, September 17, 2006
2 Comments:
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This is the first piece of fiction in my First Empires project and also my assignment for a writing class in which I'm currently enrolled.
The assignment was: Write a scene in which elements of your imaginary world are brought to the fore through any means other than having a character remark on or explain something. Weave startling setting elements into a scene that puts the reader into a new world. You have up to 500 words.
Please tell me if I accomplished this assigned task and how you think I did it or failed to do it. Any other comments are welcome as well. Obviously, this is just a scene, not an entire story, so don't judge it harsh for being plotless. :-)By WDavid, at 9/17/2006 05:00:00 PM
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Here are the comments from my classmates...
WDavid: Classmates...when commenting on my assignments please keep in mind that I'm less interested in the things you LIKED or what was GOOD about the piece and more interested in what you DID NOT LIKE or what was BAD in the story. Be as harsh and nitpicky as possible. Thanks! :-)
Cathy Chance: Ok, in the first paragraph, you started each sentence with "I". It might read easier if this was varied more. When your narrator asks Seven-Rabbit to be less formal, he uses very formal speech himself...it sorta jars. You do much better in the next paragraph spoken by the narrator. I'm sure as the story progresses, you'll answer the questions about just what this society is.
WDavid: Cathy...Thanks...That's exactly the type of critique I'm looking for. How's this for a re-write on the first paragraph?
I bounced my shoulders several times to settle the ceremonial feathered cape into a comfortable hang as Seven-Rabbit tied the beaded loin cloth around my middle. As the boy worked at the intricate knots I sucked in my belly self-consciously and made a mental note to cut back on the sugarded maize cakes. The day's itinerary lying on the shelf caught my eye and I picked it up to scan down the glyphs drawn in Seven-Rabbit's meticulous penmanship.
...and this for the too formal line...
I've told you many times, there's no need to be so formal when we're alone.
...The society is an alternate history meso-america...kind of an aztec/maya melding. You can read more about my world at www.firstempires.com...would love any comments there as well.
Kim Huett: Hi, David. Forgive me, but I liked it! I think it's awesome that you would explore PreColumbian America (or something like it). Now, what seemed strange to me was the modern-day awareness that eating maize cakes would have an effect on the belly and that one should cut back on them. I was also uncertain that as to whether/not this god/man would be so down-to-earth. That seemed very unlikely to me. However, I have not done research, and I don't know what such a person would have been like. I would think that such a person would really buy into his godliness and not give a darn if Seven-Rabbit was comfortable around him or not. But, who's to say? Maybe that's part of what interested me...being able to relate to the Lord Priest. A well-writ piece.
WDavid: Thanks Kim...Hey, I like praise, don't get me wrong, but the nitty gritty critiquing will be more helful in improving my style. :-) You'll see more of this in assignment 3 when we get into character sketches, but the Lord Priest (I'm still considering names) is not your typical pseudo-aztec model. His life has disillusioned him and the beaurocracy has pretty much cast him aside. He's not full of himself but he still feels a rush when the adulation of the crowd flows through him like an actor on a stage...or when, as will become evendent as the story evolves, he is planning a bit of deceit and revenge to regain his deserved place in the priesthood and a compass for his life. As for the maize cakes...well, he's living a mostly soft and cushy life on a carribean island colony so he's had time to notice how soft living equates to soft body.
laf: This is a well described scene ... and I do think your re-write is stronger than your original.
WDavid: LAF...Thanks...I am curious if anyone has visited the First Empires web site and if they have any comments on the world I outlined there. All comments welcome and encouraged.
KJ: Good writing. Show don't tell. I know you want criticism, but I have to give you praise. You have done research obviously on the ancient culture of the Aztec/Inca, etc. How ever, your psychological picture is more from someone of the modern culture in the way they associate with each other. Meso-America is a land of superstitions (to us). But then, what do I know, I didn't live then either. but again, perhaps you have seen something that archeologists lack, real people. Good writing.
Robert: Wow. You didn't leave me much to critique. The scene really evokes the feel of a futuristic Aztec society with a good dollop of humour mixed in. The one thing that I thought didn't quite work was the part "My eyes, unaturally wide and fervent". The description here is coming from the character himself, and he would not be in a position to see how his own eyes looked. It's possible that he knows his eyes look like this because it is an expression he is putting on, but this isn't really made clear from the text. Otherwise, I thought this was quite good.By WDavid, at 9/21/2006 05:57:00 AM
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Saturday, September 02, 2006
4 Comments:
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Sure has been quiet around here. Where did everybody go?
Well I will say I liked this piece. I can comment on the writing (nicely done), but I wonder if I am too close to the situation to comment on the topic itself. Which is why I haven't commented on this piece sooner; I was hoping somebody else would first. -
Yes, it has been quiet around here until David started posting again recently. The last few sentences, which have now been removed, were merely observations... the next leap of thought from one life form to another...I did not mean to offend anyone.
By Ruth, at 9/27/2006 12:18:00 PM
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I don't see a situation here for Fred to be "too close to". I guess poetry really is beyond me. I see a nice little essay with an observation of a tree, a poignant comment about petals being afraid to fall, and a lament for trees lost to a parasitic moss. What did I miss?
By WDavid, at 9/27/2006 12:32:00 PM
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David, if your first reading of this piece was just before your comment, then what you missed had already been removed.
Mom, I don't think you should have removed anything from your writing, I liked it better with the original ending. I certainly wasn't offended.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
2 Comments:
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I like this one.
By Cheryl, at 8/30/2006 06:18:00 AM
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Michael, I use Paint Shop Pro.
By Ruth, at 8/30/2006 03:45:00 PM
Friday, August 25, 2006
2 Comments:
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I liked the idea of making photo poems so thought I'd try it myself. The photo is from a Printmaster collection and not my own.
By Ruth, at 8/25/2006 10:02:00 AM
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Thank you Michael. That's a good suggestion re "still".
By Ruth, at 8/25/2006 02:47:00 PM
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
3 Comments:
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Stephanie, thanks for posting your work to PPTP. Please also post comments on our other writers' entries.
This is a very nice article, and I call it that because it reads like an inspirational magazine article to me. Have you had it published? If not, you should try. I'm sure Martha Stewart must have her own magazine so that would be a good starting point since she was your inspiration.
I can sympathize with being a natural worrier and your suggestions on how to overcome it by immersing yourself in something delightful, creative, and fulfilling is a worthwhile and excellent solution. I've repressed a lot of my worries in quilting and poetry and can attest to the values of keeping busy.By Ruth, at 8/22/2006 11:15:00 PM
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Thank you Ruth for reading my article and commenting on it.
I haven't tried to have the article published yet. I wasn't sure if the format was quite right. That is a good suggestion to try and have it published in one of Martha Stewarts magazines. I'm not sure if it's in the right format/style for that, or if it's good enough, but it would be worth checking out.
I feel like the article needs a little more work, but I'm not sure what else to do with it at this point. -
Well, I don't know what needs to e added. I might also suggest a venue such as Family Circle or Good Housekeeping, or any of the supermaket magazine rack family/cooking oriented magazines as a publishing possibility. You'll neer know if you don't try. Do you have a Writer's Market book so you can research addresses and guidelines for submissions?
By Ruth, at 8/23/2006 05:08:00 PM
Saturday, August 19, 2006
3 Comments:
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I have to admit that I've read very little poetry and I know next to nothing about it.
I did enjoy your poem. In very few words it really captured the modern experience of flying. The frustrations & boredom of the experience- yet you weren't whinning about it. You were just stating facts. That's the impression I got anyway.
For some reason I feel like I do my best thinking/writing in planes. Maybe it has something to do with the altitude? -
The altitude or the attitude possibly... i.e., nothing better to do and lots of interesting people to watch and from whom you may find inspiration.
I don't normally write anything buy rhyming poetry, but I'm struggling this summer trying to learn to write more non-rhyming pieces. It is a struggle.
Thank you for taking the time to comment.By Ruth, at 8/23/2006 05:12:00 PM
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Michael, thanks for your comment. Like I've mentioned before, I'm learning and experimenting with (for me) new areas of poetry, both in form and format. Your comments make sense and are appreciated.
By Ruth, at 8/24/2006 10:54:00 AM
Friday, August 11, 2006
2 Comments:
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This essay about my cats has been floating around in my head for almost a week. This morning I wrote it down. Please feel free to comment or critque as you like. This might be something I could get published in pet magazine or maybe a humor magazine. Maybe you have some ideas on where I might try.
By WDavid, at 8/11/2006 10:21:00 AM
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It's very funny.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
6 Comments:
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The last assignment of the class I'm taking at UW was to write a story that was almost totallly dialogue. "Dad's Visit" is the result. Irt is another chapter in my "The Path" story which you'll find over on That Looks Like A Story.
http://thatlookslikeastory.blogspot.com/2006/07/writerrific-1-assignment-6.html
I don;t know if that long link will work, so here's a shorter one.
http://thatlookslikeastory.blogspot.com/
All comments and critigues are welcomed. I turn this on at 7pm on Aug 7th.By WDavid, at 8/06/2006 04:45:00 PM
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David, this is an exciting glimpse into what this story might one day be. I do think there needs to be more story between the original "Path" and this "Dad's Visit".. you know, how did he first contact his dad there after he bought the lighthouse and how he came to grips with that. This story makes it feel quite commonplace for them to meet there, but how did they get to that point? And how did he learn that pounding on the table would send the spirits away? When Dad says "protect yourself", I half expected him to hold up a cross like warding off a vampire or something, but apparently pounding on the table was enough to do it? It felt like there should have been something more involved there... like there could be a lot more action in this scene if it were allowed to grow to its full potential.
By Ruth, at 8/06/2006 04:54:00 PM
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I like it Dave. So, what does aaron have to save his father from?
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Ruth...Thanks for the kind comments. Oh yes, there's a good bit more between the end of "The Path" and the start of "Dad's Visit". I think it's lurking around in my brain somewhere now. The last two weeks have been a desert for my creativity and I'd almost given up on this assignment altogether, but here at the last minute I got an idea and dashed this off in a couple of hours. That's lightning-fast for me.
Since this assignment was for a "dialogue only" story I purposfully left out a lot of detail. Even so, it kind of got naration heavy toward the end. I'll need to flesh this out a bit more for actual inclusion in the story, but I DO LIKE the bones of this piece. I like the ghosts lurking in the mirror instead of floating around in our world. I see the mirrors as windows on our world through which the spirits can watch us.
It really is interesting what people read into a story...or maybe what we write into a story subconsciously. The drumming on the table was only to drown out the wails of the dark spirits. It was never intended as "protection" but now that it's there and you've pointed it out, I like the idea. Perhaps rhythmic basso sounds disrupt their power in some way. Perhaps the table he's working on is specially designed to resonnate for this reason. I really do need a writing partner to help with my creativity. Thanks for being there for me. :-)By WDavid, at 8/06/2006 07:35:00 PM
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Fred...Thanks. Glad you enjoyed the piece.
According to real history, three or four coastguardsmen died in 1942 when there were changing lighthouse keepers. I haven't been able to find out any details, but I assume there was some freak storm or something. In the story, perhaps there was an entire ship that perished. In any event, these spirits have been very angry at their condition and it was, in fact, they who caused the father's death in "The Path".
Since then, his grascious and peaceful spirit has been a calming influence to them, but now that the lighthouse is once again occupied their anger is growing and being surrounded by all that hate and fear is taking a toll on Aaron's dad's spirit. Before this scene and after, there will probably be scenes that show the dad losing his temper with Aaron or manifesting some minor destruction in the real world...something out of character. A spirit with enough anger and hate and fear will be able to cross through the mirror and cause trouble in our world. So, Aaron has to save his dad's spirit from the influences of the others and probably set him free to go on to heaven. He also has to work to save himself and probably his mom (somehow I just have to get her to the lighthouse) from any spirits that manage to breech the mirror.
How does that sound? Not bad for making a lot of it up on the fly. :-)By WDavid, at 8/06/2006 07:45:00 PM
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Ruth...I went in a reworded the drumming to spell out what was happening.
Fred...I caught a misspelled word that you missed. Horse should have been hoarse. I've corrected it now. :-)By WDavid, at 8/06/2006 08:08:00 PM
Friday, August 04, 2006
4 Comments:
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Penitentman...What is Clustering? How does it work? What are the benefits and drawbacks?
By WDavid, at 8/04/2006 12:24:00 PM
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The first I'd seen it was in a book called "Writing the Natural Way."
The author's website talks about the process here: http://www.gabrielerico.com/Main/ClusteringSampleVignettes.htm
The words I clustered around for these 2 pieces were "sharp" and "hard".By penitentman, at 8/04/2006 12:52:00 PM
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Hmm... so that link didn't seem to work right, at least for me. Let's try this:
LINKBy penitentman, at 8/04/2006 01:20:00 PM
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An interesting process.
In William Stout, I note that sentences 3 and 4 have no verb. Can they stand alone like that, or should they have been phrases separated by commas or semicolons in the previous sentence?By Ruth, at 8/04/2006 05:04:00 PM
Thursday, August 03, 2006
9 Comments:
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Hey Fred...Good job. I think you handled Max's personality very well.
The only change I'd suggest is picking a different name for Jenny or Jack. Two J names had me a little confused at first.
As for a title, how about "Enough Is Enough"?
I think I figured it out when Rachel said "Let's go for a ride".
One of my classmates wrote a very similar story a couple of weeks ago. Jimmy was lost in the woods and couldn't find his mommy. He met a couple in the park and then wandered away from them when they started arguing about whetheror not they should try to help him. He met a scary man in a white van who offered him a cookie but he ran away from the stranger. Then he finally found his way home to mom only to have "mom" scratch behind his ear and put his food dish down on the floor where he could get it. Yup, Jimmy was a puppy.By WDavid, at 8/03/2006 07:22:00 PM
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That was good Fred. I even reread the invisible collar thing twice and was thinking what kind of S&M story is this before I read the dog part!!
By PeggySueO, at 8/03/2006 07:40:00 PM
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What a cute read and funny too! I was all set to start making suggestions about how this guy should maybe have a different speech pattern or something to make it read a little better... Then I found out this guy is a dog! So who knows how a dog thought/speak sounds anyway? It didn't occur to be until the second reading why leaving home was so painful. It wasn't the breaking heart of leaving, it was the pain of breaking through the invisible fence! You got me on this one. Good job!
By Ruth, at 8/03/2006 08:06:00 PM
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Haha, this is great Fred!
So many hints tied in there and still a surprise.
Well done!By penitentman, at 8/04/2006 12:05:00 PM
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Yes -- I thought this story was going somewhere else too -- couldn't wait to see if Rachel was taking Max home :)))
re: Title... that's got me scratching my head -- how about "The Ride Home".By Peter, at 8/05/2006 07:36:00 PM
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How about "Taken for a ride"?
A fitting double-meaning.By penitentman, at 8/06/2006 03:41:00 PM
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Thanks everyone for all the positive feedback, and for the title suggestions as well.
Still thinking about it though. -
Great story - love the surprise ending. I agree, Jack and Jenny was a little confusing. But that was great!!
i like "the Ride Home" as a title. -
I've decided on Taken For A Ride. Thank you penitentman.
2 Comments:
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Barbara, these are good for a beginner. You will need to stay focused on the syllable count though. The first traditional haiku has six syllables in the first line instead of five. Perhaps it might be written:
Look up to the sky
What do you think?By Ruth, at 8/03/2006 10:08:00 AM
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Oh, you are right. I didn't even notice that. And some words it is hard to tell how many syllables they have. I can't think of an example right now. Anyway, I'll try to write some more this weekend.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
4 Comments:
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Well -- I used the tree picture again -- but it's not a story about chinatown -- that story is still running around in circles in my head.
As usual -- the feedback I'd like to get is what you liked and didn't like about the story.
/pBy Peter, at 8/02/2006 01:25:00 PM
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What I didn't like:
What I did like: Everything, only I might like to know more about the Vixen... maybe another story, eh? I've never heard of that vehicle.
I particularly liked that I get to point out a misspelled word in your story this time... "doubley" should be "doubly". Gee that felt good! But then I got caught up in watching olive trees being planted and crashed into by a crazy female driver and forgot to look for any other typos, etc. Guess there must not have been any ;-)))
And you know what? I really doubt that you've seen everything yet!By Ruth, at 8/02/2006 04:59:00 PM
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Ruth... tx ... re: the vixens... there's a fan site for vixens here: http://www.vixenrv.org/ -- the left side of the roof tilts up, so it is possible to stand inside one of these things. It also has a full bathroom inside!!!!!
/pBy Peter, at 8/03/2006 10:04:00 AM
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I like this one alot. I think it all fits together nicely. I like that you use the photos.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
4 Comments:
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Today I went to a new poetry group in Crystal River, FL. Part of the program was the exercise I just posted here. It was "an approach to the persona poem and the dramatic monologue". We had ten minutes to complete each section. Again, (as some of you have read on another blog) I chose to write about Lucille, my husband's mother who recently passed. So tell me what you think of these quickly produced pieces. All comments welcome.
By Ruth, at 8/01/2006 04:23:00 PM
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I think they're excellent!!!!
And excellent advice... don't ask me to forget, as there is still time to remember.
Indeed -- I've only lost 3 people close to my heart -- they all left in a big bang 20 years ago, but still I find myself in awe about how those three continue to influence my life.By Peter, at 8/02/2006 12:56:00 PM
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I think for 10 minutes of forced writing, they are very good. I can't imagine someone saying to just come up with 2 poems and do it in the next 10 minutes!!!
By PeggySueO, at 8/02/2006 09:36:00 PM
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I agree with Peter and Peggy. They are excellent and I don't know how you can do that in ten minutes. Maybe, if you already had these running through your head. But otherwise too much pressure.
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The Ace Up My Sleeve - What a neat "power" piece! I just had to laugh as my husband used to live in a house with four children, he and his wife, and one bathroom. I would find it hard to exist with two people and one bathroom! I can just see his son sitting there with the girls outside begging for entrance... and flushing "just to be a tease". That is SO Michael.
As an assistant administrator here, David sends me the membership requests to read, so I had the pleasure of reading that piece before you posted it here. An advance giggle so to speak. I'm so glad you gave everyone the opportunity to see it.
Hair Shorts - I like this piece too, but with reservations. I love the cadence of the first stanza. It would be good if the whole piece had the same cadence throughout, but I tried copying it into Word and rewriting it, and could not do it myself throughout the entire piece.
I think there are many unnecessary words which could be cut, however, to bring the whole piece into a better flowing form, such as...
"I need cover in summer
but it can't be too warm
and extra heat in the winter
to weather the storm"
I think that stanza could be dropped completely as you've covered that concept in the previous two stanzas.
If you want to see my complete rewrite of this poem, let me know and I'll email it to you. If you're like me and sometimes don't want other people messing with your work, you can say that too.
I hope some of this may be of use to you.By Ruth, at 8/01/2006 04:58:00 PM
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I don't care about cadence and all that stuff. They were hilarious! Give me some more:)
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very entertaining... that ace up my sleeve should definitely go in the PPTP hall of fame -- I thought that was heading in a completely different direction.
Hair shorts I wasn't as fond of... though that's quite a whacko visual you've dreamed up there... shorts made out of short hairs! I'm cringing just a little.By Peter, at 8/02/2006 01:03:00 PM
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I thought the first one was very cute!! Didn't really get much out of the second one.
By PeggySueO, at 8/02/2006 09:45:00 PM
Monday, July 31, 2006
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Hi all!
Just joined the blog today. Have always loved to write, but haven't been very serious about it.
Trying to get more serious about it now.
Mostly I've written rhyming poetry that is more fun than artistic, but I'd like to start writing some stories.
It's late for me, but wanted to get something up and look forward to reading what others are sharing.
As I'm really just starting to get into this again, I'd really love any feedback at all. Does this spark any interest in the character? Does reading this much make you care at all what happens? Why? Why not? etc...
Thanks for a great site and great opportunity!
-MikeBy penitentman, at 7/31/2006 10:07:00 PM
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Mike, thanks for joining our little group. I hope we continue to see more of your work. Please help us out by commenting of other posts here too.
Now, for your story... I totally enjoyed it. It is a very few moments in someone's life and does leave you wanting to know what happens next... Is he truly badly injured? What is he running from? who is pursueing him? Had I not had the title "Runaways", I might have concluded that he was in some kind of race and had a grand "lead" toward making it to the finish line first.
I also hope to see some of your poetry here since my first love has also been rhyming poetry and when I am truly enjoying it, I am "playing" with it. I'm just now trying to learn to write poetry without rhyming and it's a real challenge!By Ruth, at 8/01/2006 04:34:00 AM
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Mike...Welcome to our world. :-)
I've been eagerly awaiting another short storist...I'm surrounded by poets and out of my depth. :-)
Like Ruth, I initially thought it was a race of some sort. The "airbike" got my attention and I immediately wanted to know what that was all about. I guess the recent tour de france had my mind on cycling. When I saw that he had a "24 hour lead" I began to suspect something other than a race in the competitive sence.
Yes, I thought Dom (Dominic?) was engaging with he self recrimination for blowing his lead. I would like to know how he managed to crash the airbike and what he's racing away from.
You've created a sense of urgency and a sense of impending peril for Dom if he can't get himself moving again.
There was one place that I stumbled. "He glanced around at his surroundings once more. He found himself in a shallow ravine, sitting in the shadow of a bridge that spanned its breadth overhead. Looking around, he could tell it wasn't going to be an easy climb out of there." There's a lot of looking around going on here and I think it's safe to assume that a bridge would naturally span the breadth of a ravine so stating it her seems clumsy. Maybe rephrasing it like "The desert rose steeply on either side and the railroad bridge at the top of the ravine cast it's gridwork shadow on Dom. Climbing up to level ground would be tricky thanks to the gully's loose rock and dirt walls."
Just a suggestion. Take it for what it'sworth. :-)By WDavid, at 8/01/2006 07:06:00 AM
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Good story -- I definitely wanted to know why Dom got into his predicament, and where he was going next.
I also liked the quotes of the mind chatter.
But I didn't like the reference to "sorry butt" after Dom realized how injured he was -- the voice went from gentleman biker to something different, and back. Maybe you could move the colloquial language into the mind chatter, but leave the narrative with a consistent voice?By Peter, at 8/02/2006 12:35:00 PM
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I did like the story and definitely wanted to know everything all the others have already mentioned. I'm not sure that I liked the narrative talking though with all the other mind talking. It just seemed out of place to me, but what do I know?
By PeggySueO, at 8/02/2006 10:02:00 PM
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Today, I entered this story in the "Short-Short Fiction" contest from New Millenium Writings.
http://www.newmillenniumwritings.com/awards.php
This is a contest Ruth told me about and urged me to enter. I just squeaked in under the deadline. I'm such a procrastinator.
I didn't write anything new this week so maybe I'll take this one to the class tonight and let them read it out loud. After last week's fourteen page story, this little 250 word piece will probably be a welcomed surprise. :-)By WDavid, at 7/31/2006 05:36:00 AM
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Indeed it was a surprise -- a short story like that... and a good one -- very thought provoking.
By Peter, at 7/31/2006 06:11:00 PM
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I love this piece. I says so much in so few words. I hope the contest judges see how wonderful it is too.
By Ruth, at 7/31/2006 06:33:00 PM
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The first time through, I enjoyed the descriptions and the tone felt very poetic to me.
However, I couldn't really identify with the narrator until the very last sentence... at which point I had to read it again and loved it.
Because it is very short, it works pretty damn well. That clincher at the end that makes you want to re-read it with the new insight.
If it was a longer piece, the waiting to identify would not have worked.
Well done!By penitentman, at 8/01/2006 08:08:00 AM
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
5 Comments:
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I took the liberty of reposting Pedestrianism because with the new beginning, I could embellish the ending a little more. So the story is changed considerably.
I have embedded some links to photo galleries. Do they work as links, or should I include them as footnotes at the end of the story? Internet writing seems to allow both styles of linking.
I'd like the same kind of feedback as before -- a thing or things you liked, and as much emphasis on something you didn't like.
/pBy Peter, at 7/25/2006 11:01:00 PM
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Well I can say that you managed to keep my attention with this one. I think because it all seemed to go together better than the other one which included something about a tree in the sky I think.
Anyway, I never seem to have much constructive to say for or against a piece as I'm just not that kind of person who evaluates what I read so deeply. Usually it is either I liked it or I didn't. I liked this one. The lady and others following right behind her reminded me of lemmings.By PeggySueO, at 7/26/2006 08:51:00 AM
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Peter, I think this one works much better! And yes, I liked the links within the story as opposed to having them at the end. Good job on the revision.
By Ruth, at 7/26/2006 05:25:00 PM
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I think this version is much better than the original. I would like to see you write something else using that tree in the sky picture.
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Fred...
tx... re: tree in the sky -- It takes me about a week to put one of those together... next stop Chinatown -- you'll just have to wait to see, whether I reuse the beginning that I rewrote for pedestrianism.By Peter, at 7/31/2006 05:54:00 PM
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All in all I'd say it was pretty good. The first time through I stumbled on some of the cadence, but I tried to slow down when I read it again.
By PeggySueO, at 7/26/2006 08:27:00 AM
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I like it alot. I was amused that you used the word pooped, which to me made drooped seem forced.
I think I might rewrite those two lines like this...
With all of that work, he must have been tired
As into his godly recliner he retired.
Maybe those two words are too close to each other in spelling, I don't know.
I also think it ended too abruptly. I think there is a bunch more you could add to it. Starting from where you left off, talk about man choosing sin then work your way through the gospel story.
Sorry to give you so much homework, but I do like it. -
I stumbled on some of the cadence too -- is that what it's called !?!? But I like the "pooped/drooped" part -- God is given so many human traits -- why not "pooped out" too???? I don't quite get the "red shoes" -- and glasses -- why red? It sort of reminds me of santa claus.
I think I have to part ways with Fred's comments on your ending too -- I liked it... suddenly all this light hearted creationism turns into the philosphical dilemma so many face -- why did he give us the ability to choose? Or, more simply, why do bad things happen?
I think you can make a connection with this choice we have, with all the blood we spill -- which is what makes God's shoes red. Just a thot.By Peter, at 7/31/2006 06:48:00 PM
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Hehe, what a fun poem!
I for one, LOVE the pooped/drooped lines. To me, it really fits the character of the poem.
I stumbled a bit on lines 3 and 4, since every other pair rhymes so perfectly, those two should as well.
And forth line from the bottom: "thrown" should be "throne".By penitentman, at 8/01/2006 09:15:00 AM
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Okay Penitentman, here's the scoop. Sometimes a slant rhyme is all you can come up with! Some people say that a poet using slant rhyme is just not working hard enough, so I'm going to take those two lines and see just how I might change them to make it better or more rhymable. And thanks for the spell check on throne. I hadn't noticed that. Actually, you'll be lucky if you find any of my work that doesn't have at least one type in it and the occasionaly misspelling. Thanks for your comments and suggestions.
By Ruth, at 8/01/2006 02:19:00 PM
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Hehe, believe me, I'm all about the slant rhyme. I think it just stood out to be because it was the only one.
You could almost leave those 2 lines out, since right after you go on to describe in detail the very actions those lines are talking about.
This is all opinion, mind you. I'm no pro, only stating my honest assessment if it's even worth calling that.
:)By penitentman, at 8/01/2006 05:06:00 PM
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Okay, how does it read with the following changes to the second and third lines?
What did God do before he made man?
Just sit around outlining his glorious plan?
No, I think not, there was too much to do
And perhaps at that point, his helpers too few.
I can just see him now in boots and overalls
Sawing and nailing and hammering walls.
Designing a structure to house a gazillion
Complete with BBQ, deck and pavilion.By Ruth, at 8/02/2006 05:10:00 PM
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That reads much better I think. Very nice!
By penitentman, at 8/03/2006 07:55:00 AM
Sunday, July 23, 2006
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Hi Everyone…Sorry I’ve been away from PPTP for nearly a whole week, but I’ve been struggling with a story and today I finally finished my first draft. Well, second draft, really. I’ve been getting a lot of private input from Ruth1. Here’s the genesis of the piece: The assignment from my in-class lesson was to write a four to six page (double spaced) story based on a dream. Well, I hardly ever remember my dreams so I commented to Ruth1 that there should be a dream repository to help people who didn’t remember their dreams. That triggered a thought about a world where people had lost the power to dream and needed to have other peoples dreams implanted. The story above is my take on that world. The piece is 14 double spaced pages…WAY over the limit so I won’t be able to have it read in class but I’ll hand out copies to the students and get their comments the following week.
I welcome any and all comments and critiques: typos, plot holes, logic flaws, anything you can come up with. If you happen to get them in quickly then I can consider any suggested changes before I submit the lesson, if not, then I’ll consider them later. I like this piece and feel it might be publishable. With your help I hope I can refine it. I do not bruise easily so be as harsh as you like. It’s what I need to improve my craft.By WDavid, at 7/23/2006 02:27:00 PM
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Very interesting story. Was trying to figure out what was really going on while reading it. Since it was obvious the guy was a fake exorcist at the beginning I thought maybe the demon possession would end up being real. But I was confused as to what all the computers and gadgets were for. And wondered why he made them go thru the exorcism if they were instructed that they wouldn't remember any of it. You know, just hypnotise them, wake them up then tell them it worked. Of course, that was revealed later. After the beating I just figured he had changed cons. Didn't catch on right away that the cons were connected. Nicely done.
There are a bunch of typos though. Here are the ones I saw, in order of appearance.
"Sitting at the computer terminal tucked in at front end of the caravan," (should have the word "the" before front.)
"Elijah supposed they were the girl's parents, though they seemed scarcely old enough for job." (should have the word "the" before job.)
“Does the demon temp you every night?” (tempt)
"Sara eyes showed her confusion and fear so Elijah’s changed his tone to a joyous piety that lightened Sara’s mood." (Sara's) (Elijah)
"A bundle of colorful cables protruded from the apex like a pony of hair" (Did you mean to say ponytail of hair? Or is this the correct wording?)
"Occasionally people waked in or out of the general store" (walked)
Also when you use words like He or His or Him, referring to God, you inconsistently capitalize them.
I like the story, very interesting idea. -
Fred...Thanks for the comments. I fixed all of the typos you found in my WORD copy and I'll go back here and fix them as well.
I checked the only place I remembered where I use dhte God pronouns and they're all correct. Can you tell me where you found the inconsistencies?
Elijah went through the "exorcisms" or hypnotic therapy, if you will, to relieve these people of their dreams/possessions and give himself credibility. Hynotic suggestons are rarely permanent so when they dreammed again they'd chalk it up to some sin, real or imagined, and welcome another exorcism when he passed through town again. i hope that come through in the story and that you didn't have to struggle too hard as a reader to get the scope of what was going on.By WDavid, at 7/23/2006 06:20:00 PM
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Great story idea -- I took it as a parable of modern day evangelists with their hi-tech communications systems, hi-tech "medicine" with it's deadly side effects, and closed minded individuals who can only see things their own way.
I also like the leapfrogging through time idea... I was imagining a "snake oil" salesman going from town to town 150 years ago -- but then the salesman worked in what sounds like a big church -- and then in some ultra modern wacked out new age therapy clinic.
However put together, I think the time shifting makes the story too complicated/compressed. Particularly that first transition... I think if you develop the issues that the townsfolk of Pinnacle have with the computers, we can be better prepared for the hysterical mob that chases him out of town. Also, I think the presentation of the computer gear was too sudden. A suggestion:
Tucked in the back of the Caravan was a media drawer where Elijah kept recordings of all his treatments. If the people of Pinnacle saw these, there'd be trouble. That's because the people of Pinnacle thought recordings where the work of the devil. So a week in Pinnacle was six and a half days to many...
Sorry -- I can't mimic your voice -- but something like that.
I liked the writing -- it was a page turner -- and the ending seemed like it could be the beginning of another story.By Peter, at 7/23/2006 11:13:00 PM
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I tell you what, that Fred has an eagle eye. I'm glad he and Peter gave you some other feedback that was different from what I gave you privately before you posted it here. I guess we all definitely need more than one set of eyes and ideas to truly see how a piece might look to the general public.
By Ruth, at 7/24/2006 01:38:00 PM
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Fred...I found one place where I was talking about "The Saint and MArtyr and used the word "his" with a lower case "h". That's probably what you were referring to with the comment about inconsistant capitalization of the God pronouns. I changed it to "God's love" instead of "his love" just to clarrify things.
Peter...Thanks for your comments. The events of the story happen over about one month. Elijah starts off disguised as a no-tech exorcist, then we see a little of the tech he's hiding, then we see him use the tech, then he's discovered and beaten for using the tech even though he really was exorcising their perceived demons, then he goes back to his hi-tech society to sell the remnants of his scammed goods. So, it's not a time-hopping tale but one of a con game spanning both no-tech and hi-tech cultures. To help make that a little clearer, I changed "yokel" in the first paragraph to "anti-tech fundamentalists". LEt me know if that works to make things a little clearer.
Ruth...Your personalized help in the writing stage of this piece was invaluable. I can't wait to get started on the "Crafy Ladies". :-)By WDavid, at 7/24/2006 02:57:00 PM
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I didn't mention it earlier but I also thought the beating seemed strange to me. I couldn't figure out just what I thought was wrong but Peter said it well, I think. There just wasn't enough reason to think something like that might happen.
I was thinking there were more than one instance of the capitalization issue, but probably not. I'll check again later.
Ruth, It's pretty ironic that someone with such bad vision has an eagle eye. -
David, I know you appreciated my help in being a sounding board for this story while it was being written, but I can see there were things (such as Peter's confusion, and the apparent lack of enough information for the average person to figure it out)which I was not able to help you with simply because I knew from the very beginning what your intentions were with the story, and, knowing that, I understood it completely and didn't notice the places where more information might have been needed for someone who wasn't privy to the plot before it was written.
Good grief, does that make any sense to anyone? I don't know whether I said what I meant to say or not!
We've just learned a good lesson here. So don't stop asking for my help, but maybe you need to post bits of the story as you go and get a feel for what others think too before you actually finish it.
I'm stopping now. My brain if fried!By Ruth, at 7/24/2006 05:09:00 PM
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Well, A young woman read my story aloud in class tonight. I feel silly that I don't know her name but hopefully she'll join up here and tell me. :-) She did a great job.
To my ears the story read very smoothly and natually and in the round-robin commenting afterward the smoothness was remarked upon. Overall everyone seemed to like it. There were plenty of comments on technical aspects that needed tweaking as well as plot aspects that need examining, such as...
There's no need to say Sara blinked HER EYES because she's unlikely to blink anything else...no need to say she nodded HER HEAD for the same reason.
A couple of people commented on Elijah's arc....scammer to concerned and introspective...and back to scammer.
Some thought it seemed wrong for him to be concerned about Sara and then go off and sell the dream anyway. In my mind he might have had second thoughts about his whole scamming business but the beating he got from the fundamentalists basically put him in "screw 'em" mode.
Others pointed out that the "God uses all his tools" theme near the end gave Elijah a "way out" that allowed him to use the dreams with a clear conscious.
Another asked why Elijah was so morally troubled about wiping out Saras's dream when the hypnotic suggestions were just going to wear off in time anyway.
One commenter said that he wanted the story to go a little further and have Zeke actually BE a demon and get transferred into Wilhelmina.
I really enjoyed getting the comments and made lots of note...thought I may have difficulty deciphering my chicken scratch. They also made notes on the copies that everyone read along from so soon I'll go through all their written comments and see what else I can glean. There's bound to be something that I missed.
I must say I was very nervous when the teacher said my story was going to be read but in the end I found it quite exiting and energizing too.By WDavid, at 7/24/2006 10:33:00 PM
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I thought you said stories couldn't be read if they were over assignment length. I wonder what made your teacher change her routine for this story?.... Must have been because it was so good, eh? ;-)) Anyway, congratulations on some good reviews.
By Ruth, at 7/25/2006 09:47:00 AM
5 Comments:
This is the complete "Festival of Atlcualo" story. 5,100 words. The longest thing I've ever written. I have to turn it in on Sunday but I'd like to turn it in sooner if it's ready. I'd love to get your opinions on it. In the class, I've submitted Chapters 1 and 3 for assignments and the biggest comments I have are that Three-Crocodile is hard to connect to and that my point of view needs work so that I am consistently relating the story from Three-Crcodile's perspective. Of course, there's a lot of complaining about the names being unpronouncable, but that just takes practice. Perhaps I'll put a pronunciation guide with the final story. Anyway, any comments at at all are welcome.
By WDavid, at 10/11/2006 06:01:00 PM
I submitted chapter 1 of this story in my last class assignment. Here are the class comments on Chapter 1.
Cathy Chance: David: Just a question: what is a "cenote"? I realize this is an exerpt, but in the full story, defining this would be a help. Also, instead of repeating the term, perhaps use descriptors to help us visualize what it is. This is certainly a dramatic scene. I would assume in the full story that most of these characters would have already been introduced. Thus, in this scene, I'd limit the identifiers. This can help pick up the pace. Also, you might need to pay a little more attention to point of view. Are you using an omniscient narrator, who can tell us what everyone is thinking or are you using a more limited third person, such as 3-Croc? I personally think focusing the pov on 3-Croc would be most effective. In that case, show us what is happening through his eyes. The "fear and horror swam across Three-Crocodile's face" if we are in his pov, doesn't work. You next go into 3-Croc's thoughts, so it does seem we're in his pov. So: pick up the pace and work on the pov. This is shaping up well.
Kim Huett: Apparently, a cenote is "a deep sinkhole in limestone with a pool at the bottom that is found especially in Yucatán." I actually thought it was something else (related to ashes b/c of the Spanish word 'ceniza'). Regarding this sentence (and perhaps others like it): “Lord Pochotl, Ehecatl's First, pointed to the inside edge of the cenote.” For the purposes of moving the story along, I think it might be better to remove the appositive “Ehecatl’s First” from the line…unless it’s vital to the story at this moment that we know his position. I do not have a problem with the nature of the Nahuatl names, but the number of names can get confusing and distract from the action, I think. In the first paragraph, you say “the rain god, Tlaloc.” In another paragraph you say “Tlaloc, god of the rains and waters.” Later, someone says “Tlaloc sends nourishing waters to the Lords of..” Unless you’re emphasizing Tlaloc’s function to heighten the ornate feel of the passage, I don’t think that it’s necessary to remind the reader of who he is. Once is enough for me, anyway. I thought that “ceaselessly noisy jungle” could be simplified if you find one potent adjective to cover “ceaselessly noisy.” I think this is a very well-written piece. It is elaborate and ornate. You have done so much studying, thinking, and imagining to get this all together. And I really kind of envy your passion for this setting and culture, etc. I will say one thing regarding my personal reading of this piece. And that is, that I don’t quite know how to relate to it. I don’t feel like I care much about the characters—or even just 3-Croc. I don’t know why, and maybe it’s not even necessary. It’s possible that earlier in the story these characters have been established, and the reader already cares for one or several of them. In this scene alone, though, I see them as an outsider, if that makes sense.
Cathy: A couple of things and I will try to not to restate what Cathy C and DeChancie have already stated. Try to keep wording simplistic and descriptive as possible, if a reader has to take the time to look up achaic or difficult terms they may feel that the reading for fun has turned into work. Is the Cenote hold some spiritual or sacrificial function? If so that should be better described and may add to the background of the story. This start demonstrates your creativity and imagination, interesting story.
WDavid: Mr. DeChancie....Overwriting is, I suppose, akin to overacting and the Ham seldom sees it, himself. Thanks for pointing it out. :-) This is a solemn religious event so my goal was to impart that feeling and to deliver high "church" ritualism. I'll review it and see if I can tone it down a bit and still maintain the mood.
WDavid: Cathy Chance...Kim gave the textbook definition of cenote. I thought it was a common enough term, myself, and knew it long before I began my research into this world. I tried to work in enough description and several synonyms so as to make it clear, but I'll review it and see what I can to to improve things. Sinkhole just doesn't impart the sense of mystery. :-) This is the first scene in the story (see the outline from assignment 4). This is the first time we are introduced to the characters so I had to give a bit more info here. Thanks for the comments on POV. The story is intended to be told from Three-Crocodile's POV and appreciate you pointing out that gaff. I'll keep my eye out for others.
WDavid: Kim...Thanks for the cenote definition. Actually, many cenote, this one included, have underground rivers at their bottoms, not just pools. Grammar theory has never been my strong suit so "appositive" was a new word for me. Thanks for making me look it up. :-) My use of "Tlaloc", "the rain god", and "the god of rains and waters" was my effort to avoid using "Tlaloc" every time I referred to that particular deity. It was done just to add variety but I will look things over and see what can be done to simplify the character and god name references. Scene one is a little crowded as it strived to introduce the characters, the setting, and the initiating event all at once. In scene two we see a bit more into Three-Crocodile's character and, I'm hoping, people really start caring about him there. There's only five scenes to the story though, so I guess I have to work hard and fast to get the reader's attention if I want them to care enough to finish the piece. On the topic of "outsider", Three-Crocodile is an outsider here as well. He's only marginally a priest and is looking in on rituals he's only just started to participate in (the blessing of the water and sealing of the vase) and he feels he may have screwed them up by mistake and cost the lives of his foster-father and friend. So, perhaps you perceiving yourself as the outsider here means you are already identifying with Three-Crocodile.
WDavid: Cathy...I will see what can be done to streamline my writing style. As for the purpose of the cenote, I thought that I made it clear that it was a holy place for sacrifices...a chasm to the underworld...twenty offerings to keep the evil spirits at bay...a river that carried offering to the lords of the underworld. I'm note sure how much clearer I could be that this is an important and sacred place. I'll look it over though and see what can be tweaked. :-)
astrogirl: You've certainly put a lot of thought into the setting. It has the feel of an Indian ceremony. I liked the detail where Lord Tayauh "extended his arms as he had two lifetimes ago..." It shows the disconnect for ThreeCroc between the beginning of the ceremony, the deaths, and the continuation, but I agree with some of the others that it would be nicer to be more inside ThreeCroc's head from the beginning. I think it would strengthen our response to the deaths.
laf: In a lot of ways, you're obviously very close to what you want ... powerful story, well thought out. I think Kim's suggestions on dealing with the names and titles is a good one (because you have us narrow-minded English speakers for an audience, it's something you'll need to keep in mind throughout). The POV at the end [of chapter one] is a minor problem ... but the bigger piece in identifying with 3 Croc could make the piece even stronger. If you let more of his emotions through, we'll be more involved: his excitement about having participated for the first time, his horror at seeing his foster father fall, his guilt as he blames himself ... You might try interspersing more of his thoughts, feelings, reactions, observations throughout the ceremony, so that you can strengthen and highlight more of these items.
Kim Huett: WDavid, I have great faith in your work! I think you're on a great track here. What you said about the outsider-ness and 3-Croc makes sense now. Keep on keepin' on, as they say.
Instructor DeChancie: Nothing wrong with solemnity. Just unbusy those sentences; don't make 'em work so hard. They'll do more for you, and the solemnity will be increased, churchy or not.
By WDavid, at 10/12/2006 08:40:00 AM
Only a few comments.
Should "priest" in the first paragraph be priests?
When he opens Pochotl's chest on the altar and reaches in for his heart, I would think the guy would already be dead from all that, but you say he's still alive until his heart is jerked from within. I find that hard to believe.
I like how Lord Tayauh seems to take Three Crocodile under his wing afterward as though he enjoys becoming his new tutor. I wonder though what your intentions are.. will he remain the comforting counselor, or is it all a ruse to draw close enough to find a way to eliminate Three-Crocodile?
I love how this story is progressing. Is it going further? I think you said once it was only a bedtime story someone is telling their child, so is there more, or is this it? I hope there's more. You have gained enough interest in Three-Crocodile that the reader wants to know what happens next.... not only in his life, but in the life of the babe.
By Ruth, at 10/12/2006 03:42:00 PM
Here are the comments from the instructor and the class on the complete "Festivla of Atlcualo" story.
Instructor DeChancie: "Fear and horror tore through Three-Croc." -- OK, fine. But then he "folds into a shivering crouch." One or the other, but both is too much. Better to stick to the concrete. He folds into a shivering heap or whatever, a concrete image that *conveys* the horror and that the horror is overwhelming. Keep to the concrete, the specific. "Monochrome costumes" is abstract. Better to show colors, even if there's only one. Impart the definite, the precise. Avoid the vague, the generic, the blanket term. You settle down eventually and begin to tell the story. That usually happens; you can't waste words if there's a story to be told. And this moves along pretty well. You have a clear protagonist, an antagonist (who gets what's coming to him), and a moment of revelation for the main character, and a final triumph. I can see nothing wrong with the dialogue, except that it may need some loosening up so as to distinguish ceremonial language from ordinary speech. Let's take a step back. I note the chapter headings. I take it this is a section of a novel. However, it won't work as a short story, I don't think, unless you somehow make bring the background forward. You [previously] mentioned contact with ancient Chinese culture, and I wonder if you can't bring some of that into this piece. That would alert the reader that this is an alternative version of history. Otherwise, the reader is going to be a trifle lost. Now, if you have no intention of sending this out as a stand-alone, then it becomes a matter of when you will let the reader in on the background. In a novel, you have all the time in the world, so it might not be so critical. You can take your time. But for a short piece, it's crucial that you get some of that exo-historical background to the foreground.
Instructor DeChancie: Let me add that I think WDavid has a shot at being a real writer. This shows though, care, and skill. Also knowledge of his subject matter. I think also that he needs more development and more of an eye toward the broader contours of his fiction. I do like the Chinese connection, and hope you develop it. That makes the Meso-American setting something other than historical, and therefore fantastic, squarely within the genre. OTherwise, this would be a quasi-historical novel. Not many of those.
Jeff: I must admit, I was a little lost at first. I like knowing something about the people I am reading about. That said, I liked the rest of the story. The writing is crisp and kept me wanting to read. Background on Three- Croc would have allowed me to feel more for him.
laf: It seems to me that anyone who could have invested the effort to research the history, and then extend to build an alternate history, certainly already has the "sticktoitiveness" needed for a novel (give yourself credit)! (and I don't have any new comments beyond that, except to mention that it is a good, complete, short story ... I think Mr. DeChancie's final comments are that it isn't in this genre (sf/f) without the elements that let us know we're in an alternate history, as it is, standalone right now)
Cathy: You are on your way...I find your story very interesting...and you are off to a good start on character development with Three Crocodile. You are, apparently, knowledgeable of the history of this area, and aware that this setting makes for an excellent story. This story is complex, because the lives of these people was complex, but your writing really highlights the issues. As you revise and work with an editor it will become even more refined. Go to some writers conferences if there are any in your area, I just returned from one and learned so much.
Robert: I enjoy your writing. You have a real knack for storytelling, and your world is quite well developed. I was wondering why Three Crocodile had the name he did - I'm glad it was finally explained. The problem I had with this story was that it just seemed a little rushed. Three Crocodile's vision and quest to save the children just seems to come out of the blue. I really didn't see it coming. I think your story could use more development of Three Crocodile's character so that the driving reasons behind his desire to change tradition are more apparent, so that his sudden conversion appears less arbitrary. Also, I don't know that the other priests would react so calmly to what amounts to a 13 year old boy seizing power. There needs to be some reason why the Old Priest was so accepting, otherwise it doesn't ring true based on our knowledge of human nature.
WDavid: Mr. DeChancie...Thank you. I appreciate all of the advice. This is exactly the kind of thing I need. :-) Yes, the world is an alternate history and I see this story as part of the world's ancient history...before contact with the Chinese and at least a century before Columbus...It's the culture in evolution from one with little regard for human life and heavily into human sacrifice to one with some basic human respect, if not actual rights. A culture that respects its citizens, at least in a small way, more will be more stable in it's long-term growth. This was meant as a stand alone short story and the Chapters were just a way to separate the scenes in my own mind and in the structure of the class. That said, I showed this to a couple of others and they are interested in the story going on and following Three-Crocodile to see how he develops in his new role as First of Tlaloc, how his new relationship with Tayauh evolves, how established powers in the city react to him and his "new path". Old traditions do not give way easily and this culture is not known for subtlety. If I carry it on perhaps I can even work this into a time period where first contact with the Chinese occurs in the story. I'm not really sure I have the sticktoitiveness to write a novel anyway. :-) In any event, I need to get this short story fixed first and your assistance here is GREATLY appreciated.
By WDavid, at 10/18/2006 10:40:00 AM
This - "Instructor DeChancie: Let me add that I think WDavid has a shot at being a real writer." is what I've been telling you all along. Congratulations!
By Ruth, at 10/20/2006 06:41:00 PM
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