deadken
deadken
penitent
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steppenwolf owns but you gotta realise that harry haller is a miserable old git and not to be emulated, i mean hesse spells it right out but theres still people convinced that its all about them
Crow
Crow
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i'm taking a creative writing class and
getfiscal
getfiscal
Mike Nelson here.
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deadken posted:
steppenwolf owns but you gotta realise that harry haller is a miserable old git and not to be emulated, i mean hesse spells it right out but theres still people convinced that its all about them
*raises paw*
Impper
Impper
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deadken posted:
steppenwolf owns but you gotta realise that harry haller is a miserable old git and not to be emulated, i mean hesse spells it right out but theres still people convinced that its all about them
well yeah this is what i thot whe i wa young and impetuous!! but life is destroying me; and for that i will destroy it
Skylark
Skylark
California
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Just passed a creative writing class with a C+ and pushed a kid around in a barrel
lungfish
lungfish
San Francisco
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I don't read literature (or otherwise consume art) that I think is a bad influence. If it doesn't help me be more productive, more dedicated to justice, and more well-adjusted then I avoid it. I need art which uplifts, supports, and motivates me to keep striving to become a better person. I have no need of petty self-destructive fantasies and it seems to me that those who indulge in them tend to complain about being miserable a lot.
Impper
Impper
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lungfish posted:
I don't read literature (or otherwise consume art) that I think is a bad influence. If it doesn't help me be more productive, more dedicated to justice, and more well-adjusted then I avoid it. I need art which uplifts, supports, and motivates me to keep striving to become a better person. I have no need of petty self-destructive fantasies and it seems to me that those who indulge in them tend to complain about being miserable a lot.
lol
animedad
animedad
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lungfish posted:
I don't read literature (or otherwise consume art) that I think is a bad influence. If it doesn't help me be more productive, more dedicated to justice, and more well-adjusted then I avoid it. I need art which uplifts, supports, and motivates me to keep striving to become a better person. I have no need of petty self-destructive fantasies and it seems to me that those who indulge in them tend to complain about being miserable a lot.
but you read and post in a forum full of sad sacks. wait a second... *record scratch* youre trolling!
babyfinland
babyfinland
tardy on these heaters
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lungfish posted:
I don't read literature (or otherwise consume art) that I think is a bad influence. If it doesn't help me be more productive, more dedicated to justice, and more well-adjusted then I avoid it. I need art which uplifts, supports, and motivates me to keep striving to become a better person. I have no need of petty self-destructive fantasies and it seems to me that those who indulge in them tend to complain about being miserable a lot.
same
gyrofry
gyrofry
Kurdt
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animedad posted:lungfish posted:
I don't read literature (or otherwise consume art) that I think is a bad influence. If it doesn't help me be more productive, more dedicated to justice, and more well-adjusted then I avoid it. I need art which uplifts, supports, and motivates me to keep striving to become a better person. I have no need of petty self-destructive fantasies and it seems to me that those who indulge in them tend to complain about being miserable a lot.but you read and post in a forum full of sad sacks. wait a second... *record scratch* youre trolling!
idunno this seems like a pretty upbeat place actually
Fucker
Fucker
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writin words bout words
dedken - "the machine"
- starts with someone waking hungover. gay
- one of the very first things the protagonist comments on is a "fat babushkas ugly" blouse which immediately makes anybody reading dislike him. theres a difference between a cynic and an asshole and the character keeps goin over the line.
- all the other characters keep telling protagonist what he's like but he never comments on them. everybodys real interested in the protagonist but hes not interested in anybody else. protagonist passivity somebody has called it
- not enough ajectives in most places but then too many in some
- doesnt make me believe its actually happening in russia, there just arent enough details in the background
- author seems afraid of taking their time musing on minutae, the pace feels too fast for comfort
- nothing interesting actually happens to anybody interesting
- there arent actual characters in the story, just mannequins spouting out cliches. this ones p easily fixed tho. just make the dialogue more natural
]discipl - "ayat el kursi"
- just about every line could use editing, a whole bunch of sentences, idioms, actions and descriptions dont make sense or are ambiguous enough to be confusing
- the separation of the protagonist and the narrator isnt well enough established and the attitude of the narrator doesnt come through clearly enough. the protagonist is way too bland and needs fleshing out, preferrably in the first few paragraphes. when there is some philosophizing goin on its unclear whether its the narrator or the protagonist doin it.
- there isnt enough detail in the descriptions of the people/clothing/faces/ language/locale/textures/colors for me to believe that the author has actually set foot in palestine or speaks either hebrew or arabic. you don't really need to have walked through a checkpoint in palestine, but you really need to make the reader believe you have. its possible to have been there and still write blandly enough to make me doubt the fact.
- i get a sense of teh author bein afraid of staying long musing on any details, the pace feels way rushed
- needs more irony. verbal, dramatic, tragic or situational. maybe historical would fit well. pick one or more and inject em hella everywhere
- feels like your emulating the wrong kinda authors. try and rewrite the whole thing like it was written by yashar kemal or herta müller or john irving. or try super hard to duplicate hemingway down to a t. and the result will prolly be way better then it currently is
- nothing interesting actually happens to anybody interesting
botom line
theres an aight story underneath both texts but neither author feels confident enough to make any points about the world through characters or comments on events. through meticulous editing both texts could prouly b saved and both authors mite b producin good pro quality prose in a a couple of years easily. cheers
dedken - "the machine"
- starts with someone waking hungover. gay
- one of the very first things the protagonist comments on is a "fat babushkas ugly" blouse which immediately makes anybody reading dislike him. theres a difference between a cynic and an asshole and the character keeps goin over the line.
- all the other characters keep telling protagonist what he's like but he never comments on them. everybodys real interested in the protagonist but hes not interested in anybody else. protagonist passivity somebody has called it
- not enough ajectives in most places but then too many in some
- doesnt make me believe its actually happening in russia, there just arent enough details in the background
- author seems afraid of taking their time musing on minutae, the pace feels too fast for comfort
- nothing interesting actually happens to anybody interesting
- there arent actual characters in the story, just mannequins spouting out cliches. this ones p easily fixed tho. just make the dialogue more natural
]discipl - "ayat el kursi"
- just about every line could use editing, a whole bunch of sentences, idioms, actions and descriptions dont make sense or are ambiguous enough to be confusing
- the separation of the protagonist and the narrator isnt well enough established and the attitude of the narrator doesnt come through clearly enough. the protagonist is way too bland and needs fleshing out, preferrably in the first few paragraphes. when there is some philosophizing goin on its unclear whether its the narrator or the protagonist doin it.
- there isnt enough detail in the descriptions of the people/clothing/faces/ language/locale/textures/colors for me to believe that the author has actually set foot in palestine or speaks either hebrew or arabic. you don't really need to have walked through a checkpoint in palestine, but you really need to make the reader believe you have. its possible to have been there and still write blandly enough to make me doubt the fact.
- i get a sense of teh author bein afraid of staying long musing on any details, the pace feels way rushed
- needs more irony. verbal, dramatic, tragic or situational. maybe historical would fit well. pick one or more and inject em hella everywhere
- feels like your emulating the wrong kinda authors. try and rewrite the whole thing like it was written by yashar kemal or herta müller or john irving. or try super hard to duplicate hemingway down to a t. and the result will prolly be way better then it currently is
- nothing interesting actually happens to anybody interesting
botom line
theres an aight story underneath both texts but neither author feels confident enough to make any points about the world through characters or comments on events. through meticulous editing both texts could prouly b saved and both authors mite b producin good pro quality prose in a a couple of years easily. cheers
babyfinland
babyfinland
tardy on these heaters
Post rating:
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Fucker posted:
writin words bout words
dedken - "the machine"
- starts with someone waking hungover. gay
- one of the very first things the protagonist comments on is a "fat babushkas ugly" blouse which immediately makes anybody reading dislike him. theres a difference between a cynic and an asshole and the character keeps goin over the line.
- all the other characters keep telling protagonist what he's like but he never comments on them. everybodys real interested in the protagonist but hes not interested in anybody else. protagonist passivity somebody has called it
- not enough ajectives in most places but then too many in some
- doesnt make me believe its actually happening in russia, there just arent enough details in the background
- author seems afraid of taking their time musing on minutae, the pace feels too fast for comfort
- nothing interesting actually happens to anybody interesting
- there arent actual characters in the story, just mannequins spouting out cliches. this ones p easily fixed tho. just make the dialogue more natural
]discipl - "ayat el kursi"
- just about every line could use editing, a whole bunch of sentences, idioms, actions and descriptions dont make sense or are ambiguous enough to be confusing
- the separation of the protagonist and the narrator isnt well enough established and the attitude of the narrator doesnt come through clearly enough. the protagonist is way too bland and needs fleshing out, preferrably in the first few paragraphes. when there is some philosophizing goin on its unclear whether its the narrator or the protagonist doin it.
- there isnt enough detail in the descriptions of the people/clothing/faces/ language/locale/textures/colors for me to believe that the author has actually set foot in palestine or speaks either hebrew or arabic. you don't really need to have walked through a checkpoint in palestine, but you really need to make the reader believe you have. its possible to have been there and still write blandly enough to make me doubt the fact.
- i get a sense of teh author bein afraid of staying long musing on any details, the pace feels way rushed
- needs more irony. verbal, dramatic, tragic or situational. maybe historical would fit well. pick one or more and inject em hella everywhere
- feels like your emulating the wrong kinda authors. try and rewrite the whole thing like it was written by yashar kemal or herta müller or john irving. or try super hard to duplicate hemingway down to a t. and the result will prolly be way better then it currently is
- nothing interesting actually happens to anybody interesting
botom line
theres an aight story underneath both texts but neither author feels confident enough to make any points about the world through characters or comments on events. through meticulous editing both texts could prouly b saved and both authors mite b producin good pro quality prose in a a couple of years easily. cheers
ty
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
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that is terrible advice, all of it, though i agree that waking up with hangover is gay
Impper
Impper
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that criticism is so bad i'm offended on your behalves
Impper
Impper
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youre a real fucker fucker
Fucker
Fucker
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its all rly good advice 
Impper
Impper
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i disagree. even when you say something thats right its done like a fucker. youre a fucker and i hate you
Fucker
Fucker
Post rating:
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the "beautiful"# paragraph u quoted has a grammatical mistake in the very first sentence already
Fucker
Fucker
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Impper posted:
i disagree. even when you say something thats right its done like a fucker. youre a fucker and i hate you
you mean like its too harsh or what
Impper
Impper
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Fucker posted:
the "beautiful"# paragraph u quoted has a grammatical mistake in the very first sentence already
cool man
Fucker
Fucker
Post rating:
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in fact id prolly edit every single sentence in that paragraph honestly
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
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Fucker posted:
Impper posted:
i disagree. even when you say something thats right its done like a fucker. youre a fucker and i hate you
you mean like its too harsh or what
no, it's dumb, and it's not particularly harsh, but you constantly conflate your aesthetic judgments with good writing. your opinion is not synonymous with the right way to write. "nothing interesting happens to anybody actually interesting" - wow what great criticism
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
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Fucker posted:
in fact id prolly edit every single sentence in that paragraph honestly
why don't you post something you've written if you think you can write much better sentences? i liked that specific paragraph for its content
[account deactivated]
Fucker
Fucker
Post rating:
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Impper posted:
Fucker posted:
in fact id prolly edit every single sentence in that paragraph honestly
why don't you post something you've written if you think you can write much better sentences? i liked that specific paragraph for its content
i cant belive you dont even know the difference between editing and writing a novel
Fucker
Fucker
Post rating:
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The Factory produces novels at a rate of between three and five a day.
either "at a rate between three and five" or "at a rate of three to five"
Many of these are rejected at Quality Control, of course, but that’s still an impressive number, proof that mechanisation works in all areas of life.
id make it "by quality control", id lose "of course", change "but that's still an impressive number" to "but the numbers are still pretty impressive" or "impressive enough", "works in all areas of life" is kind of a leap, id make it "proof that even art is not above mechanisation"
In the Concept Office is a huge punch-card computer.
"lies a huge" or "stands a huge" or "rumbles a huge" and add some dimensions, "stands a huge punch-card computer, comprised of a dozen cabinets two and a half meter high and a meter wide each"
In the founding days of the Factory a team of typists was marshalled to input the basic details of hundreds of thousands of novels: Russian and international, popular and literary, classic and contemporary.
"basic details of each of hundreds"
More novels are still being added, of course: those from the Factory that have won particular acclaim or sold particularly well, and those from abroad that get past the censors.
maybe "and the few from abroad"
This information forms the computer’s database, a set of numbers that it continually re-arranges.
"tirelessly re-arranges"
When the computer comes up with a concept that one of the literature commissars in the office considers viable, it produces a punch-card which is sent on to Development.
"they have it produce"
There, a series of engines take the basics – genre, plot structure, setting, hero, antagonist – and flesh them out.
"take the basics of the story - genre"
There’s a new computer there (made with American technology, although nobody likes to admit that) for creating characters based on not only the complex figures of Shakespeare and Dostoevsky, but Freudian and Lacanian theory.
"newer computer there
Also in Development is a machine running an algorithm that produces titles and generates a name for the novel’s supposed author.
"Another machine in Development, that runs an algorithm that produces titles, generates a name for the novel's supposed author. "
This data is sent on to Structure, where another set of engines reconfigure it into chapters and paragraphs.
"sort it into"
Finally, a series of punch-cards is sent out to all the relevant areas on the factory floor, where hundreds of workers with their various machines do the messy work of actually writing the story.
"where hundreds of workers sitting at their workstations do the work of actually writing the story. like secretaries taking dictations from a stack of reel tapes" or something. theres a huge opportunity to go full-on poetic here but its missed completely. im not sold on the word messy either
It’s all stored on magnetic tape.
"stored on magnetic tape by yet another section/shift/branch
One final machine stitches together all the various fragments produced across the Factory into a single coherent story.
"produced across the Factory, forming a single coherent story."
Once it’s finished, two reels are sent out: one to the printers, and one to the Criticism Factory in Leningrad, where a similar array of machines condenses the novel for a review to be published in the Literaturnaya Gazeta.
"two copies of the story are sent out", "to the printers in ???"
either "at a rate between three and five" or "at a rate of three to five"
Many of these are rejected at Quality Control, of course, but that’s still an impressive number, proof that mechanisation works in all areas of life.
id make it "by quality control", id lose "of course", change "but that's still an impressive number" to "but the numbers are still pretty impressive" or "impressive enough", "works in all areas of life" is kind of a leap, id make it "proof that even art is not above mechanisation"
In the Concept Office is a huge punch-card computer.
"lies a huge" or "stands a huge" or "rumbles a huge" and add some dimensions, "stands a huge punch-card computer, comprised of a dozen cabinets two and a half meter high and a meter wide each"
In the founding days of the Factory a team of typists was marshalled to input the basic details of hundreds of thousands of novels: Russian and international, popular and literary, classic and contemporary.
"basic details of each of hundreds"
More novels are still being added, of course: those from the Factory that have won particular acclaim or sold particularly well, and those from abroad that get past the censors.
maybe "and the few from abroad"
This information forms the computer’s database, a set of numbers that it continually re-arranges.
"tirelessly re-arranges"
When the computer comes up with a concept that one of the literature commissars in the office considers viable, it produces a punch-card which is sent on to Development.
"they have it produce"
There, a series of engines take the basics – genre, plot structure, setting, hero, antagonist – and flesh them out.
"take the basics of the story - genre"
There’s a new computer there (made with American technology, although nobody likes to admit that) for creating characters based on not only the complex figures of Shakespeare and Dostoevsky, but Freudian and Lacanian theory.
"newer computer there
Also in Development is a machine running an algorithm that produces titles and generates a name for the novel’s supposed author.
"Another machine in Development, that runs an algorithm that produces titles, generates a name for the novel's supposed author. "
This data is sent on to Structure, where another set of engines reconfigure it into chapters and paragraphs.
"sort it into"
Finally, a series of punch-cards is sent out to all the relevant areas on the factory floor, where hundreds of workers with their various machines do the messy work of actually writing the story.
"where hundreds of workers sitting at their workstations do the work of actually writing the story. like secretaries taking dictations from a stack of reel tapes" or something. theres a huge opportunity to go full-on poetic here but its missed completely. im not sold on the word messy either
It’s all stored on magnetic tape.
"stored on magnetic tape by yet another section/shift/branch
One final machine stitches together all the various fragments produced across the Factory into a single coherent story.
"produced across the Factory, forming a single coherent story."
Once it’s finished, two reels are sent out: one to the printers, and one to the Criticism Factory in Leningrad, where a similar array of machines condenses the novel for a review to be published in the Literaturnaya Gazeta.
"two copies of the story are sent out", "to the printers in ???"
Edited by Fucker ()
[account deactivated]
Fucker
Fucker
Post rating:
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Impper posted:
Impper posted:
no, it's dumb, and it's not particularly harsh, but you constantly conflate your aesthetic judgments with good writing. your opinion is not synonymous with the right way to write. "nothing interesting happens to anybody actually interesting" - wow what great criticism
thats pretty much as far as one needs to go when a story has one to three characters. if it was a whole novel that was posted yeah youd want more but these are a short story and the first few paragraphs of what i guess is gonna be a novel? lack of interesting characters dosent mean the whole thing sucks, like i said, its a real easy thing to fix in such a short text. even like just five or six sentences would help alot. i dunno where you got the idea that i think of my opinions as gospel, you can disagree on all of the points but then it would be way more helpful to the writer to tell them why you think the points made dont apply to their text insteada goin 'lol fag'
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
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i don't see how your word choices are any better than his at all? just look at the last one - you want him to change "two reels are sent out" to "two copies of the story are sent out": but this is a thoughtless edit that at best doesn't improve the paragraph and at worst detracts from the entire thrust of the paragraph, which is the antiquated machinery involved in making the novels
you want him to go "full on poetic" - why? "where hundreds of workers sitting at their workstations do the work of actually writing the story. like secretaries taking dictations from a stack of reel tapes" or something." thank god you added "or something," because obviously what you suggest here is no good at all. it's sloppy and ugly and your idea of a poetic sentence is to repeat the word "work" three times in the same sentence
you want him to go "full on poetic" - why? "where hundreds of workers sitting at their workstations do the work of actually writing the story. like secretaries taking dictations from a stack of reel tapes" or something." thank god you added "or something," because obviously what you suggest here is no good at all. it's sloppy and ugly and your idea of a poetic sentence is to repeat the word "work" three times in the same sentence
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
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Fucker posted:
Impper posted:
Fucker posted:
in fact id prolly edit every single sentence in that paragraph honestly
why don't you post something you've written if you think you can write much better sentences? i liked that specific paragraph for its content
i cant belive you dont even know the difference between editing and writing a novel
actually it's true - good writers don't necessarily make good editors, but damned if anybody should listen to an editor who can't write himself
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
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Fucker posted:
Impper posted:
Impper posted:
no, it's dumb, and it's not particularly harsh, but you constantly conflate your aesthetic judgments with good writing. your opinion is not synonymous with the right way to write. "nothing interesting happens to anybody actually interesting" - wow what great criticism
thats pretty much as far as one needs to go when a story has one to three characters. if it was a whole novel that was posted yeah youd want more but these are a short story and the first few paragraphs of what i guess is gonna be a novel? lack of interesting characters dosent mean the whole thing sucks, like i said, its a real easy thing to fix in such a short text. even like just five or six sentences would help alot. i dunno where you got the idea that i think of my opinions as gospel, you can disagree on all of the points but then it would be way more helpful to the writer to tell them why you think the points made dont apply to their text insteada goin 'lol fag'
i'm going 'lol fag' cus your a pretty big fag fucker eat fuck fucker
Fucker
Fucker
Post rating:
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Impper posted:
i don't see how your word choices are any better than his at all? just look at the last one - you want him to change "two reels are sent out" to "two copies of the story are sent out": but this is a thoughtless edit that at best doesn't improve the paragraph and at worst detracts from the entire thrust of the paragraph, which is the antiquated machinery involved in making the novels
you want him to go "full on poetic" - why? "where hundreds of workers sitting at their workstations do the work of actually writing the story. like secretaries taking dictations from a stack of reel tapes" or something." thank god you added "or something," because obviously what you suggest here is no good at all. it's sloppy and ugly and your idea of a poetic sentence is to repeat the word "work" three times in the same sentence
yeah i was thinkin how the word reel rules in there and needs to stay but couldnt come up wid a sentence that made it clearer that the text was sent out as two identical copies and still had the word in. obv the thing i wrote sucks, it took two seconds to come up with. point is, with a scene like that you really want to get some feelings/musings out of it and not just laconically describe the process. its a mesmerizing scene and it alone could be a whole chapter in a novel. when you gotta good scene going on, you shoudlnt go 'wow thats actually good better not fuck with it' but instead 'this shit works, i oughta figure out a way to well milk this scene'
Fucker
Fucker
Post rating:
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Impper posted:
Fucker posted:
actually it's true - good writers don't necessarily make good editors, but damned if anybody should listen to an editor who can't write himself
ah jeez not the 'wheres YOUR hit single / hollywood blockbuster / communist uprising / apple pie / animorphs cover art piece ?'
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
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i didn't ask for you to prove you're a best selling author or even a published author, but just to post something you've written. based on your proposed edits i wouldn't have much faith in it, but i could be wrong
Fucker
Fucker
Post rating:
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ur just butthurt and wanna rage about something totally irrelevant to blow of steam outa ur butt lol
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
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butthurt> about what? i disliked your criticisms. i don't see how this is irrelevant
Fucker
Fucker
Post rating:
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actual real dope criticism would be goin through each line with the writer and having a dialogue between critic/editor and writer. thats kinda unfeasible though in a written format since itd take days to go over a short text. id say find a dude willing to go through ur text with u at a leisurely pace and sure as heck dont go 'ill never reveal my unfinished text to anybody until im satisfied with it' and yall'll grow as writer. even a creative writing class wont compare to that.
since thats not an option here, heres the first few paragraphs of ur story discipl, the changes are all basically rephrasings of stuff that made me go 'what he mean by that' or 'thats way cliche/ankward'. yea i prolly replaced em with stuff thats even more ankward cause writing down the reasons for the edits would take ten times as long as just editing placeholders in and hoping that you get the point im tryin to make with the changes.
like for an example i changed the wording with the sentences about the stickers cause i dont think ive ever seen anybody 'replace' a sticker, they always leave residue dont they and so what ppl do is put new ones on top of the old ones right. i keep thinking of a dude on a ladder, ripping the old sticker cleanly off without effort and it just comes off and leaves no markings behind and i cant see that happening anywhere ever and now im stuck thinkin bout this one sentence instead of moving on with the story.
so like dont take this as a 'better' version, just more like a representation of my beefs with the text if that makes sense. k
Bismillah al Rahman al Raheem reads the first line on the stickers plastered above the turnstiles at the checkpoint. Some are all torn up but they will get covered by fresh ones soon enough. Sarah recognizes the stickers, she's seen beggar children sell them in the center of Ramallah. The quote must be from the Qur’an. It didn’t make sense, with all the anger towards mistreating the Qur’an in Guantanamo, that a sticker like that would be plastered here, on the wall of the checkpoint, in what must surely be one of the lowest places on earth.
There is a sudden loud click and people in front of her begin to shove through the turnstiles. Click click click clunk. When that last clunk happens on Sarah, she always feels just as embarrassed and sheepish. Like a rat in a contraption. The cattle chute is no wider than a few inches past each of her shoulders. Many of the older and more portly citizens go through sideways. A sharp crackling bark embedded in static announces a command in Hebrew and the crowd shifts back away from the turnstiles. The loudspeaker positioned above the nest of razorwire overhead trembles in a cartoonish way as more orders slither still as sharply out in a sarcastic tone. Sarah wouldn’t believe the voice on the other end could be so villainous, so unbelievably vile, but the 18 year old girl filing her nails behind two inches of bulletproof glass, stopping occasionally to scream into the audio system, makes it real. The majority of the soldiers yell their orders out in Hebrew. She's never heard a Palestinian speak the language.
Another click click clunk now and at this point she is almost belly up to the turnstiles herself. Looking down at her watch she notes the time passed since entering the checkpoint - forty seven minutes. A soldier watches the chute from behind a blastproof wall and bulletproof glass. Between the razor wire and the top of the checkpoint there is a watchtower at a hundred yards distance. The crowd is grumbling around her in a low hum of Arabic, with the older women seriously clutching bags of homestuff grumbling the loudest. Sarah cannot begin to understand what they are saying because she only knows a smattering of Arabic from class in the States, delivered by a Coptic Egyptian who would piously wince if anybody suggested learning actually useful Arabic.
Time passes and the grumbling of the crowd grows louder. Sarah notes now fifty eight minutes. That makes it eleven minutes since she last checked, an inscrutably long time to be standing here, shoulder to shoulder with Damnes de la Terre. A youth climbs up a bit on the turnstile and hollers something in Hebrew towards the general direction of the soldier behind the bulletproof glass who seems to be busy on his smartphone. EXCUSE ME! WE HAVE SOMEWHERE TO BE! It doesn’t matter, after all - someone’s dog is missing in Bat Yam and the soldier seems very interested in whatever drama is unfolding on his tiny screen, moreso than in the wall of human flesh and misery caged in before him.
A cold wind blowing eastward, from Tel Aviv, whips through the checkpoint and brings with it an air of indifference. The light above the turnstile turns green and the crowd pushes forward, dumping one-two-three-four - almost seven at one go - before coming to a solid halt behind her. Sarah adjusts the scarf around her neck, pulling it up over her nose before following the queue forward into the next cattle chute. Here the crowd is just as tightly wound and since the walls are wider there is more pushing and shoving to get into the next segment of the checkpoint every time the turnstile light turns green.
At waist level stand the children, wide-eyed, as children would, and quiet, subdued in obedience in the midst of razorwire and concrete. One might reach up to tug a mothers arm and inform her that they have to go to the bathroom, but otherwise they are all quiet. She wonders if it's because of the soldiers with their guns or if just the dreadful walls, razor wire and the clank clank of the turnstiles are enough to scare the children into nervous silence.
Only a redfaced baby seems to feel comfortable expressing her disapproval of the situation. It lets out the sharp angry cry of a newborn, squeezing tears out of it's crumpled eyes, its mouth set into a tragic square shape, like a painting she saw once in the museum. It is the initiation, the acclimation of the Palestinian to an inseparable part of their life - the checkpoint queue. The genderless babe will eventually turn into a slobbering toddler of a boy, then a wide-eyed kiddo standing waist high in the line, into a youth who is searched after that, then into a man and then and then… it seems as though already at this age he can understand the trajectory of his life and it is only at this age he can protest his condition with any degree of fearlessness. The mother bounces the baby in her arms but in a distracted way. Nothing can be done.
The green light comes on and the crowd smashes forward, lunging to get through the turnstiles before they lock again. In the haste and confusion the babys head somehow comes between the bars of the turnstile and the pushing threatens that red face with crushing steel. “Careful!”, Sarah and others murmur in Arabic, reaching forward to grab the turnstile before it can hit the baby. The collective backs off a little, stronger hands than hers reaching to steady the turnstile.
since thats not an option here, heres the first few paragraphs of ur story discipl, the changes are all basically rephrasings of stuff that made me go 'what he mean by that' or 'thats way cliche/ankward'. yea i prolly replaced em with stuff thats even more ankward cause writing down the reasons for the edits would take ten times as long as just editing placeholders in and hoping that you get the point im tryin to make with the changes.
like for an example i changed the wording with the sentences about the stickers cause i dont think ive ever seen anybody 'replace' a sticker, they always leave residue dont they and so what ppl do is put new ones on top of the old ones right. i keep thinking of a dude on a ladder, ripping the old sticker cleanly off without effort and it just comes off and leaves no markings behind and i cant see that happening anywhere ever and now im stuck thinkin bout this one sentence instead of moving on with the story.
so like dont take this as a 'better' version, just more like a representation of my beefs with the text if that makes sense. k
Bismillah al Rahman al Raheem reads the first line on the stickers plastered above the turnstiles at the checkpoint. Some are all torn up but they will get covered by fresh ones soon enough. Sarah recognizes the stickers, she's seen beggar children sell them in the center of Ramallah. The quote must be from the Qur’an. It didn’t make sense, with all the anger towards mistreating the Qur’an in Guantanamo, that a sticker like that would be plastered here, on the wall of the checkpoint, in what must surely be one of the lowest places on earth.
There is a sudden loud click and people in front of her begin to shove through the turnstiles. Click click click clunk. When that last clunk happens on Sarah, she always feels just as embarrassed and sheepish. Like a rat in a contraption. The cattle chute is no wider than a few inches past each of her shoulders. Many of the older and more portly citizens go through sideways. A sharp crackling bark embedded in static announces a command in Hebrew and the crowd shifts back away from the turnstiles. The loudspeaker positioned above the nest of razorwire overhead trembles in a cartoonish way as more orders slither still as sharply out in a sarcastic tone. Sarah wouldn’t believe the voice on the other end could be so villainous, so unbelievably vile, but the 18 year old girl filing her nails behind two inches of bulletproof glass, stopping occasionally to scream into the audio system, makes it real. The majority of the soldiers yell their orders out in Hebrew. She's never heard a Palestinian speak the language.
Another click click clunk now and at this point she is almost belly up to the turnstiles herself. Looking down at her watch she notes the time passed since entering the checkpoint - forty seven minutes. A soldier watches the chute from behind a blastproof wall and bulletproof glass. Between the razor wire and the top of the checkpoint there is a watchtower at a hundred yards distance. The crowd is grumbling around her in a low hum of Arabic, with the older women seriously clutching bags of homestuff grumbling the loudest. Sarah cannot begin to understand what they are saying because she only knows a smattering of Arabic from class in the States, delivered by a Coptic Egyptian who would piously wince if anybody suggested learning actually useful Arabic.
Time passes and the grumbling of the crowd grows louder. Sarah notes now fifty eight minutes. That makes it eleven minutes since she last checked, an inscrutably long time to be standing here, shoulder to shoulder with Damnes de la Terre. A youth climbs up a bit on the turnstile and hollers something in Hebrew towards the general direction of the soldier behind the bulletproof glass who seems to be busy on his smartphone. EXCUSE ME! WE HAVE SOMEWHERE TO BE! It doesn’t matter, after all - someone’s dog is missing in Bat Yam and the soldier seems very interested in whatever drama is unfolding on his tiny screen, moreso than in the wall of human flesh and misery caged in before him.
A cold wind blowing eastward, from Tel Aviv, whips through the checkpoint and brings with it an air of indifference. The light above the turnstile turns green and the crowd pushes forward, dumping one-two-three-four - almost seven at one go - before coming to a solid halt behind her. Sarah adjusts the scarf around her neck, pulling it up over her nose before following the queue forward into the next cattle chute. Here the crowd is just as tightly wound and since the walls are wider there is more pushing and shoving to get into the next segment of the checkpoint every time the turnstile light turns green.
At waist level stand the children, wide-eyed, as children would, and quiet, subdued in obedience in the midst of razorwire and concrete. One might reach up to tug a mothers arm and inform her that they have to go to the bathroom, but otherwise they are all quiet. She wonders if it's because of the soldiers with their guns or if just the dreadful walls, razor wire and the clank clank of the turnstiles are enough to scare the children into nervous silence.
Only a redfaced baby seems to feel comfortable expressing her disapproval of the situation. It lets out the sharp angry cry of a newborn, squeezing tears out of it's crumpled eyes, its mouth set into a tragic square shape, like a painting she saw once in the museum. It is the initiation, the acclimation of the Palestinian to an inseparable part of their life - the checkpoint queue. The genderless babe will eventually turn into a slobbering toddler of a boy, then a wide-eyed kiddo standing waist high in the line, into a youth who is searched after that, then into a man and then and then… it seems as though already at this age he can understand the trajectory of his life and it is only at this age he can protest his condition with any degree of fearlessness. The mother bounces the baby in her arms but in a distracted way. Nothing can be done.
The green light comes on and the crowd smashes forward, lunging to get through the turnstiles before they lock again. In the haste and confusion the babys head somehow comes between the bars of the turnstile and the pushing threatens that red face with crushing steel. “Careful!”, Sarah and others murmur in Arabic, reaching forward to grab the turnstile before it can hit the baby. The collective backs off a little, stronger hands than hers reaching to steady the turnstile.
Fucker
Fucker
Post rating:
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Impper posted:
butthurt> about what? i disliked your criticisms. i don't see how this is irrelevant
anybody can criticize a film without having directed one, anybody can criticize a piece of prose without ever having written a single line of anything.
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
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sure they can, and anybody can criticize that criticism as stupid especially when it says condescending shit like ahe maybe you can write pro prose in a few years ehehahe
Fucker
Fucker
Post rating:
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Impper posted:
sure they can, and anybody can criticize that criticism as stupid especially when it says condescending shit like ahe maybe you can write pro prose in a few years ehehahe
how can u take that as anything other than a huge compliment.