Tongue-Tied: A Writing Thread

[Lethologica]

I'm starting this thread because it took me 4 hours to write this sentence.

I have a decent knowledge of writing mechanics from years of membership in various commentariats, but it's all of the point-response variety; the pace at which I produce original content is miserably slow, because I rewrite the whole story with each line. Can't quiet the censor in my head. I recently joined a biweekly writing feedback group, and I'd like to produce some actual writing for feedback, but I tend not to think about it unless I'm actually there. I figure, if I find a similar space that's always on, maybe I'll put some stuff on the page. So, here I am.

This will be a place for me to put stuff I'm writing. Some of it will be 'done', some of it won't be. In all cases, feedback is super welcome.

This will also be a place for other people to put stuff they're writing, 'done' or otherwise. I'll give feedback unless the poster requests otherwise; others are welcome to do the same.



To start, here's something I wrote last night for a 'tragic love story' prompt. I guess I managed one out of three.


The Enemy
The only thing I wanted was a perfect life with you,
So I saw you as perfect, and pretended I was too.
But when the bells rang out, I realized to my dismay
You'd married my perfection, and I must remain this way.

I strove to live up to myself and keep up the facade,
But all the while resentment built behind my pretty fraud.
In time, I came to see you as the cause of my distress:
A liar whom I lied to as we faked our happiness.

I scrutinized your every move, alert for any crack
In your display of love that I could viciously attack.
At last I thought I'd caught you, and I played the lover spurned,
Rejoicing that I'd triumphed over pretense and discerned

Your colors true--but then my rank suspicions were disproved.
You'd never been unfaithful, and for naught had I been moved.
No longer could I make amends for thinking you had lied:
I'd broken, not a mask, but you--you'd chosen suicide.

'Twas then, in madness and in grief, I truly understood
You never did deserve me; you deservéd someone good.

[Thanqol]

Hello! Writing is hard.

Beware paralysis. You can write something good, and then write something else and be like oh no this isn't as good as what I did before I suck forever. That is crap. Post everything here. Including half remembered and incoherent jargon. Especially that stuff. Barf forth words.

I do like the poem. It's a feeling I've thought about a lot, so it speaks to me. It flows well when read out loud.

[Lethologica]

Thanks. (I like "barf forth words," too.) I didn't realize it was going to be a poem until I read the first line and realized it was all iambs.

I don't plan to put anything else up before the weekend. Maybe a noir picnic.

[Lethologica]

Torpor

I lie
half-dead
in bed
smothered
stagnant
sweaty

Leaden my limbs
powerless
to drag me
into the world
beyond my dwelling

Leaden the sky
featureless
oppressive
still
as my heart
floating
in saltwater
shriveling
amid unshed tears

I hardly remember
why I cared
enough
to secrete them
and yet
to secrete them
where only I
would know

Now I lie here
lifeless
because to rise
from my bed
I must rise
from the sea
and life
is too heavy
to lift
out of the blue.



I like writing prompts, apparently. I should use them more--my attempts to write fiction ex nihilo peter out pretty quick. This time the prompt was simply to end with "Out of the blue." I want to write another poem for the soaring blue sky, to balance the melancholy of this one.

[Lethologica]

Prompt: "A three-line science fiction story."

Untitled.
I wandered lonely as a cloud upon the shores of silent seas
Of ones and zeros, mimicking the world I'd loved before disease
Reduced me to a virtual ghost, the echo of a man deceased.



(Hooray for plagiarism)
(My head just crammed Wordsworth and Eliot together on the first line and then I had to figure out how to also be science fiction and I'm not sure if I got there)

[Lethologica]

Absent Love

So this is love? To dance, without your sight
And sound, rejoice and while away the night
Less one, just one, that seems so faint and small
To answer thus the cry and others' call?
Perhaps you think me faithless. Know then this:
I do not forget your name and miss
The only one in life who keeps me true -
I am and will always be for you.
Just in case--was this post meant for Septimus Writes? Anyway, I have thoughts, because commenting is way easier than writing.

I tend to react to structure first. This one is generally straightforward and effective. I like the enjambment on the first line. The last and third-to-last lines throw me with the missing syllable--I bet you can keep the meter. Same for the stress pattern on the last line--"and will" is a rhythm-breaker that doesn't appear purposeful. And I'm not sure what punctuation should exist between lines 3 and 4, but there should be something.

Now--the subject matter is interesting, and you hit on some key emotional themes. Does physical distance induce emotional distance in a relationship? Should one feel guilty for indulging oneself while the partner is gone, perhaps even forgetting about the partner at times? What are the memories, images, ideas, feelings that stabilize the relationship while the partners are apart?

However, the narrative arc is cracked in the middle. In the first half, the narrator is describing his own ambivalence about enjoying himself without his partner; the conflict is internal. "Rejoice" in particular suggests the narrator is at times glad for his partner's absence. In the second half, the narrator declares his unequivocal faithfulness to a skeptical partner; the conflict is external. But the narrator was just equivocating to himself a moment before, and that conflict has not been resolved, so his declaration is thrown into question. Moreover, the partner, who is nominally absent, is made present in line 5, and his only given trait is suspicion of the narrator. A thought--is this manifestation of the partner actually a personification of the narrator's conscience/ambivalence? Either way, I'm not sure I should be relying on this narrator.

I would also give you the same criticism I tell myself about "The Enemy" above: it's very abstract. If you can capture these ideas and emotions through the narrator's specific experience, they should come across more powerfully.

[Lethologica]

No, it wasn't meant for Septimus Writes. I just saw all the poetry here and thought I would contribute something :smallbiggrin:
Ah. The initial purpose of the thread was to collect and get feedback on my own work, but on reflection, I'm also interested in reading and giving feedback on others' work, and hearing other perspectives on same, so I think I'll open it up to broader contribution and discussion.


As far as metre goes, that's always been a problem for me, I tend to drop syllables in later lines. This was largely made up on the spot, so structural issues are, I think, annoying but understandable. This is not exactly a polished piece.

Now, the rest. *cracks knuckles* This wasn't so much a poem about the general issues of fidelity as a poem about a very specific, real-life event that actually occurred. In that sense, I am the narrator. Make of that what you will...

I didn't intend to introduce multiple kinds of conflict. In writing it, I never considered (oddly, with hindsight) that it could be taken as anything other than a sort of slightly demented soliloquy about a real partner who was at that point absent (again, this is more or less how it happened). This is likely because, although *partner and I have discussed romantic things in the past, we're not actually partners. The narrator is really trying to reassure himself of his faithfulness.
All right. So, it can be difficult to offer writing advice on autobiographical work, because (a) it's personal and (b) it's not like you can change your life history between drafts. That said, hearing this inclines me to double down on my advice: draw on your specific, detailed, lived experience; and connect the sentiments of the second half of the poem to the internal conflict expressed in the first half.


One last point: *partner is female. I'm male. I know it goes against the stereotypes, considering the poem, but it's true.
You know, I just noticed that I described both narrator and partner as "he". I suppose that could be considered even more against type, but I honestly didn't think about it. :smallredface: