Young Writers Society

The city's dark corners treacherously reveal it for what it truly is. Like last nights garbage, the facade of organization and beauty is gone, leaving just the bones of the situation.

They are not pretty bones.

They are dark, dirty, and angry. Puckered and broken and used. Revealed, like this, in the eyes of a scrounger, in the vomit of a drunk, it becomes even more clear that something is wrong.

Old news.

She moves quickly though the alley, always escaping, always somewhere better to be. Just like everyone else. The thought stops her and she decides that on this note, it would be good to have a cigarette. She leans against the brick wall, and lights a flame in the curtain of dark, unruly hair. She makes quite the picture there, with her Mona Lisa smile surronded by the wreckage of society. Ironic how the compassionate have become the rebellion.

Green eyes catch a glimpse of the For Your Pleasure wagon slide past, the women and children placed to display their best attributes. Eden snarls in disgust. The government calls them criminals of treason. Mostly for saying the wrong word, or helping the wrong person. Treason is nearly the only thing anyone is arrested for anymore. The goverment's last ditch effort to win the people before they revolted entirely had indeed saved them and cast the country into a riotous and selfish revolution where anything was acceptable, as long as it was 'right for you.', The new laws, so very 'open-minded' and widely accepted, were known as the "Me Doctrine". After all, if something gives me momentary satifaction or joy who has the right to stop me? The woman I am raping? The child I'm neglecting in exchange for more time with my needle? The man I'm beating for a conceived insult? All these things and more, not only accepted, but encouraged. 'For Your Pleasure' was just one of many companies jumping in the new market of humans, drugs, and greed. And the government, just on for the ride, trying to keep everyone distracted from the job they'd failed so badly at.

"Eden, darling, would you mind too much loaning me one of your cigarettes?" The words snap Eden out of the well-worn pathways of her mind, and she looks up. Mrs. Briley is standing in all her old and worn-out glory. Riches to rags, long ago, and she now lives off the streets and her addictions. Mrs. Briley was old-world royalty and it is always amusing to see the prideful stride and hear the southern lady beneath her streetwoman clothing. Like putting pearls on a pig. Briley'd left an empty bank account and a couple of empty hearts when she left her family to live for herself and herself only. Same old, same old.

With a sigh and a smirk Eden whipped another out of her pocket, "Sure, Mrs. Briley. What's one more when I'm already owed 109?"

"110. But it's no matter anyway because I will pay you back as soon as I get back on my feet. Any day now, y'hear?."

Eden nodded and lowered her head as Mrs. Briley lit the cigarette with shaking fingers and inhaled with the sigh of someone returning to a long lost friend. Eden shuddered in pain and pity for the woman beside her. There were times when she was overcome with disgust over the pain Briley caused in her selfishness, but more often then not Eden just saw a damaged and lonely old woman. This was one of those times.

Her hand slipped up to Mrs. Briley's stooped shoulders and she patted it softly, careful not to break her, "Take care of yourself, Mrs. Briley. I'll see you around." Eden's hand slipped off that shoulder as she started away, And she spent the greater part of her walk home, hoping her last sentence was true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just a short little peice. I really just want to know if anyone thinks it'd be worth continuing. And if it could make a novel. And if you awnser yes to either of those questions, then a thourogh critique would be appreciated. Thanks!

Hey, Speele!

That's actually a really interesting idea--a selfish revolution, instead of a selfless revolution. It's kind of the anti-1984. If the sociology behind it all was somewhat legitimate, I would definitely like to see this world expanded. ^_^

As for this piece, I really enjoy your writing style. It's very crisp and professional, and you do a good job of mixing poetry with prose. (I especially liked the line at the beginning about "pretty bones"--that's an amazing image.) Though the story is short, you accomplish a lot, which is definitely very cool.

On to the critique?

THE ART OF OVERREACTION

This is something kind of abstract and just very picky on my part, but try to avoid having your characters react directly to something that exists in their daily lives. For example, you delve into the business of "For Your Pleasure" because a For Your Pleasure van drives by Eden as she's walking. There shouldn't be a reaction of any sort; very little reaction should be felt simply because they're so common. It's kind of like watching horror movies. The first time through, it's the scariest thing you've ever seen--but by the hundredth run-through, they get very cheesy and comical. You adjust to them, simply because you've been exposed to them over and over and over again.

Moral of the story? Every time Eden "shudders" or "snarls" at something, remember that it's important for sci-fi and fantasy characters to just "go with the flow'. Sure, we have our rebels too, but for the most part you learn to just accept parts of society, and if you're displeased with them, it doesn't evoke such a violent reaction.

__

Thanks for the read, Speele--sorry the critique is so short! If you have any questions, though, feel free to PM me. ^_^

Very interesting. I'm not sure if, as the last reviewer called it, the sociology would work. The revolution that is. The 'Me Doctrine' seems a bit... unrealistic? shocking? But I guess that is the point of it, shock and not so much awe.

A few points I will point out specifically.

...the women and children placed to display their best attributes. Eden snarls in disgust.

The first thing that struck me here was that I wasn't sure what Eden was referring to. The switch between pronouns and her name wasn't exactly obvious and took a moment of thought to notice. Also, as the last reviewer said, snarl seems a rather strong action.

The words snap Eden out of the well-worn pathways of her mind

Just highlighting the paradox of the strong reactions to what here you call the common place.

Finally, in the last paragraph, I'm not sure if slipped is the right word the first time. And especially using it twice, once for going to the shoulder and once away from it.

Overall, it caught my attention. I liked the characters, and the imagery of the world is done well. I think it would work well to continue it and expand it out, but I don't know if it could be novel length. But that is because I don't know about that kind of thing yet, not because I doubt this particular segments ability for expansion.

-Mike

humm, it was good, the character was strong, pahaps a little to stong for the situation she were in.
you have a good writing style.

(i'm sorry, i'm new at this D:)

[/quote]They are dark, dirty, and angry. Puckered and broken and used. Revealed, like this, in the eyes of a scrounger, in the vomit of a drunk, it becomes even more clear that something is wrong.

It gets kind of fuzzy at the beginning. It's like you're referring to the bones and the bones are referring to someting else. I don't think metaphores should be this complicated. Tell you the truth, I get lost right here. Maybe you should try a clearer metaphore if you want your reader to understand you.

She makes quite the picture there, with her Mona Lisa smile surronded by the wreckage of society. Ironic how the compassionate have become the rebellion.

I don't think these two sentences are related.

Like putting pearls on a pig[quote]I like this.

Overall: I like the concept, the beginning wasn't really clear to me, but I think this piece does I decent job of exposing the backdrop for the story.

Actually, the idea reminds me of Revelations. How the human race goes to put under the new government. Maybe you should consider that.