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bortleman
01-18-2011, 03:44 AM
This isn’t necessarily the title for the work, it’s just a disclaimer.

There was an ambiance of orange light as he drove down the road. It was a unique feature of the area. In heavy clouds and fog the bright lights of the prison gave a pseudo presence of moonlight. The hill was a dark figure outlined by the bright haze in the night and only the most prominent features could be seen. As the hill slid slowly past his window he took a slow glance. The only tree stood invitingly towards the smooth crest of the hill. For a moment, he thought about stopping. Then the hill then crept out of view still silhouetted in the night.

He pulled the car over quickly. It wasn’t easy to stop a car on the soft dirt shoulder, and his tires reminded him of that as they locked and sputtered rocks and dirt into the nearby field. The dust rolled in front of his headlights and he jerked the car around.

The speed wasn’t anything to be desired, and the sad, beat up car strained to reach the speed limit as he spurred it on forcefully with the gas peddle. The hill rushed into view as he took a more gradual stop near a drainage pipe. He slowly shifted the car into park, took his seat belt off, and let out a sigh.

The dome lights flickered on as he slowly looked around the interior of the car for anything useful. This was such a rash decision he didn’t even know what he needed. He grabbed his Bible. A car swung near him and shook the vehicle on its suspension. He turned the ignition off and killed all of the lights.

The car door made a solid ‘thunk’ as he closed it. Despite the presence of night sky illumination, the ground was remarkably dark. He stepped around to the passenger side of the vehicle. The dome lights came on again as he rummaged through the glove box. Under some dusty old papers, was a dusty old flashlight.

Bible still in hand, he looked up at the ambiguous figure before him. He quickly identified the tree, it was unmistakable. The wind howled through him as he slowly wound his way up towards his destination. If he ever came back here, he would bring a better jacket. The sage brush cowered to the demands of the wind and the hillside was darkly alive in vague shadow.

The form of the tree was distinguishable. Only that. It melded with the background fading in and out of easier view. It remained in a calm midst the disorder, and with each step the serenity of the tree’s presence seemed to grow. He knew if he could get to the tree he would find his answers. The air screamed across the hillside as he made his final approach.

The tree stood alone, the sagebrush seemed to fall away from the circumference of its branches. There was no level ground. The limbs of the tree shook spitefully. The wind seemed louder than ever. He pulled his collar up around his neck as he cradled his flashlight under his arm. The beam bounced into open air while he turned his Bible right side up. He looked down at the cover, he could hardly read it.

His teeth chattered and he looked anxiously around, the world in disarray. He pried open the Bible. Immediately the wind swept across his body. The pages flapped in rapid succession right and then left.

Finally, the world stopped. He brought light to the pages and read…

hillwalker
01-18-2011, 10:29 AM
I can see you were aiming to create an atmospheric opening, but I'm not convinced you succeeded with that opening paragraph.

Images of a hill as a dark figure, looming then sliding, before finally creeping. I found myself concentrating too much on the mechanics of the hill to gather much more from the piece. This suggests you are trying too hard to write something in an original style - a case of style rather than substance.

And a phrase like

The speed wasn’t anything to be desired, and the sad, beat up car strained to reach the speed limit

what does that mean? Surely there's a better way of describing the car's reluctance to get a move on.

Perhaps I'm being over-critical but by the time I'd finished reading this I felt let down - a lot of fuss about very little. You introduce the faintest suggestion of intrigue right at the start - someone driving towards a prison at night with chicanery in mind - and all that happens is he stops, gets out of the car and decides to read a Bible to a tree.

H :-)

bortleman
01-18-2011, 01:20 PM
Over critical isn't a word that corresponds to anything in my personal dictionary. At least not when I am asking for feed back. Thanks for the critique.

Jack of Hearts
01-18-2011, 01:42 PM
Over critical isn't a word that corresponds to anything in my personal dictionary. At least not when I am asking for feed back. Thanks for the critique.

Champion.

This reader get's a dream-like effect from reading this. It is descriptive and eschews that common pitfall of reporting rather than 'showing.' One cannot help but feel it could use a little smoothing, however- and perhaps helping the reader understand why the Bible being read at (or to) the tree is in order. The reader detects that this is something you don't want to 'give away' but maybe just using suggestion or hints in the description would benefit the piece as a whole.




J

bortleman
01-18-2011, 04:59 PM
I do plan on doing a revision so you can all read it when I post it here later.

bortleman
01-18-2011, 06:54 PM
There was an ambiance of light calmly hanging in the sky. In low heavy clouds the incandescent heat lamp like lights of the prison augmented across the whole valley and gave a pseudo presence of moonlight. Every feature of the night was sharpened in contrast against the foggy orange sky.

The headlights of the car bent around the shallow pass on its descent. The hill to his left was a dark figure outlined by the haze and only the most prominent features could be seen. As it crept slowly past his window, at a snail’s pace, he took a deliberate glance. The only tree stood invitingly towards the smooth crest of the hill. It had asked him to stop before and he never obliged. One last glance was all he needed to make his decision. Then the hill became another shadow in the rear view mirror, still silhouetted in the night.

The car fell off the side of the road quickly. It wasn’t easy to stop a car on the soft dirt shoulder, and his tires reminded him of that as they locked and sputtered rocks and dirt into the nearby field. The dust rolled in front of his headlights and he jerked the car around.

The vehicle’s acceleration wasn’t anything to be desired, and the sad, beat up car strained to reach the speed limit as he spurred it on forcefully with the gas pedal. The hill rushed into view as a more gradual stop placed them near a drainage pipe. He slowly shifted the car into park, took his seat belt off, and let out a sigh.

The dome lights flickered on and a slow look around the interior of the car couldn’t identify anything useful. This was such a rash decision he didn’t even know what he needed. He grabbed his Bible. A car swung near and shook the vehicle on its suspension. The engine quickly stopped with a sigh as the ignition turned off and the lights were killed.

The car door made a solid ‘thunk’ as it closed. Despite the presence of night sky illumination, the ground was remarkably dark. He couldn’t see a thing and stepped around to the passenger side of the vehicle. The dome lights came on again as he rummaged through the glove box. Under some dusty old papers, was a dusty old flash light.

The Bible leather felt like plastic in his hand, as the ambiguous figure stood before him. The tree was unmistakable, ominous, and tempting. Hot breath fell from his mouth; the route of return was easy, fast, and ever sweeter with each burning step up the sharp grade. The wind howled through him as he slowly wound his way up towards his destination. The sage brush cowered to the demands of the wind and the hillside was darkly alive in vague shadow.

The tree melded with the background fading in and out of easier view. It remained in a calm midst the disorder, and with each step the serenity of the tree’s presence seemed to grow. He knew if he could get to the tree he would find his answers. It was the embodiment of truth. The air screamed across the hillside as he made his final approach.

The tree stood alone, the sagebrush seemed to fall away from the circumference of its branches. There was no level ground. Standing level was a task. The limbs of the tree shook spitefully. The wind seemed louder than ever. He pulled his collar up around his neck as he cradled his flashlight under his arm. The beam bounced into open air while he turned his Bible right side up. Looking down, he could hardly read the cover.

“Well, I’m here. I showed up. Now what?” He thought looking up at the seemingly warm sky. His teeth chattered and he looked anxiously around, the world in disarray. He pried open the Bible. Immediately the wind swept across his body. The pages flapped in rapid succession right and then left. Nature’s violence swallowed him and his fragile thin sheeted papers.

Finally, the world stopped. He brought light to the pages and read…
DraftsSent

bortleman
01-19-2011, 02:00 AM
I wrote a revised or edited piece. I can't say that I'm really happy with it. I believe the readers have brought several misconcieved notions about what they expected from the piece. None the less, I wrote a revision that may have helped to clearify some of the things that weren't obvious enough for the readers.

hillwalker
01-19-2011, 09:53 AM
It's better, though I'm still scratching my head pondering the significance of that tree.... unless it marks the spot of some crime, where maybe someone was buried?

But I still hate the opening two sentences. They manage to stick in the throat like an unwanted fishbone. Why have you chosen to describe the sky and the priosn lights in such a complicated, clumsy fashion? Did you think writing like this is perhaps literary or lyrical? Because it is actually rather a mess.

How can an ambience hang in the sky - and calmly come to that? The lights from the clouds might possibly be able to create an ambience of calmness - but not an ambience of light.

And a low and heavy sky with the prison's heat-lamp-like lights (yeugh) augmenting (??) across the valley to give a pseudo presence of moonlight. What is being augmented (a horrible word in this context - 'increasing' would be good enough)?

These two sentences should be taken round the back and shot.

The key to successfully creating setting and atmosphere is to allow the reader to believe he is there, and can say to himself 'Yeh. I know exactly what the writer means.' In the case of these two sentences they present more questions that answers, and again suggest you are trying too hard to appear like a serious writer.

Read - read - read and you'll see how much more work you need to carry out on your technique.

H