Thank you for going the extra mile with this review. You have made some very valid observations. But, the website link is crucial to the plot and Winston is an MP. I do see clearly from your comments that this needs a lot more work and your input has fueled my passion to try again. Thanks my friend.
Novel Treatments / Dream Encounters (Analysis)
Winston Chaney was a high-ranking member of the English government. He was a respected member of the shadow Conservative Party.
Some party members considered him popular enough to run for Party Leader. Winston felt extremely ambitious, he worked long hours and gained the loyalty and support of nearly all of his party members. His position afforded him a great deal of wealth and social standing. Envied by many he gained the confidences of others easily. He was an excellent speaker with an unusual common touch, a talent that enabled him to reach out to the people and gain their trust and support.
Just lately, his manifesto did not sit well with the ethos of conservatism. Winston Chaney was experiencing the same rude awakening of consciousness that Josephine had experienced. He felt like he was adrift on the sea of life without a paddle.
This emerging disillusion was a disturbing experience for Winston who had always enjoyed his career, his lifestyle, and the respect afforded to him by his peers. This new feeling, coupled with his altered consciousness, did not marry well with his current profession. Fellow colleagues were now starting to regard him differently.
Winston overheard their comments in the corridors and restrooms.
“Has he gone mad?”
“Upstart!”
“His parliamentary reforms can only be viewed as crazy,” and, the most damaging of all, “He has got to go – for the sake of the party or he will bring us all down.”
Faced with this impossible dilemma, his heart or his career, Winston knew a choice had to be made and fast.
He could continue with his career as long as he toed the line, he would be forced to accept that the only changes he could make would, for the most part, would be inconsequential and insignificant.
Winston drove home to his respectable Kensington flat and parked his new Mercedes in the garage. He entered his home feeling weary and yet tense, he sat in his favorite armchair with a large glass of Jim Bean and Coke. He had purposely left the lights off, as if the distraction of light would interfere with his thoughts. His mind gently became soothed and sedated by the warmth and intoxication of the now third glass of Jim Bean. Slowly, his tension eased. Placing his glass carefully on the nearby ornate coffee table, he reclined further back in the armchair and slipped gently into a deep sleep.
Whilst asleep Winston began dreaming: he could see a women way ahead of him, slender with dark hair. There was something distinctive about her.
Winston hurried towards her. Why was she alone in what appeared to be a desert?
Finally Winston caught up with her. She was crying.
“Why are you crying?” he asked.
She replied, “Because something is wrong.”
“I know,” answered Winston. “How can we put it right?
She then smiled and looked directly at Winston. At that point both Winston and Josephine awoke from their dreams. It was 3:00 a.m. and both remembered clearly every visual detail and conversation that took place on the night they first met.
For many months Winston met his mystery lady every night in his dreams as they traveled and followed the teachings of their spirit guide together.
Winston was resolute. He would use every ounce of his power to solve the biggest problem of them all, the unity of all religions.
He brought the world’s religious leaders together for peace talks; he campaigned across the board and even in schools. The wars continued.
Winston was desolate. What was he doing wrong?
He arrived at his home quite late around 1:00 a.m. It had been a long day: confusing thoughts plagued his mind. The platform for any religion is love, and so why were all the religious groups so content to carry on warring with each other?
Walking straight to the drinks cabinet he poured himself a liberal measure of scotch with very little water, and wearily slumped in his favorite chair. Winston’s mind chased around for a missing answer but his thinking process was buffered by the day.
Later in his sleep he found himself climbing a mountain.
He looked around him and was astonished to see hundreds, if not thousands, with the same task who shared his troubled expression. Looking up at the summit he saw the same lady from his other dreams; she was waiting to greet the climbers. Determination took over and he continued with the climb.
He must speak with her again. Luckily in his dream he was an extremely competent climber and could see the summit edging ever closer.
Panting with the physical effort involved, Winston made the final few steps and reached Josephine. This time she was not crying and she passed him a bottled water, which he gratefully received.
“We keep meeting but I don’t know your name,” Winston said.
“My name is Josephine, and your name?”
“My name is Winston. How can I find you?”
“Easy. The key is to follow the light.”
Winston recounted his dream over and over in his mind and was moved by its clarity and realism, almost as if it was not a dream but an actual event.
He visualized the features of Josephine and it gladdened his heart. Then he remembered her important message: the key is to follow the light.
Feeling a sense of urgency Winston powered up his computer and went to the search page. First of all he typed in the key is to follow the light; pages of random religious sites appeared. He clicked in and out of each one finding little of interest. His eyes were becoming strained, his vision blurry, tiredness was setting in.
It was now 5.20 a.m.: his thoughts were drifting to the notion that he should pack up and get some sleep. He then typed in follow the light, then he saw her: Josephine.
At that moment he knew their destinies would be entwined forever. He sent her a message through the site and hoped that she would soon reply.
The next day his mind could not focus, his thoughts remained solely with Josephine and he spent most of his day checking his in box to see if she had got in touch.
Josephine was amazed and delighted to read Winston’s message. She re-read his message over and over again, as if she could not believe its reality.
Dearest Josephine
You are more beautiful in my mind than your picture.
I am so glad you are real, not just a dream.
We were meant to meet, I was meant to find you. You are my light.
I miss you and need to see you again. Please let us meet.
With all my heart.
Winston
Ever since she had met him in her dreams she could not stop thinking about him and here was his message as real as her cat Molly.
She typed out a reply, but deleted every line, feeling useless at her inability to convey the right words to show her thoughts and feelings.
In an act of desperation she just typed out her mobile number and a kiss, she pressed send without a moments thought.
“Why did I do that? I must be mad. He will think I am. Why isn’t there an undo key for email?”
The sound of her mobile ringing caused her heart to miss a beat, holding her breath she picked up the phone and looked at the display. She did not recognize the number.
“Hello”
“Josephine?”
“Winston?”
A prolonged pause of anticipation traveled along the airways, as they both embraced the knowledge that their destinies were set with each other.
“Where are you? I need to see you.”
“I’m at home. Where are you?”
“Hopefully on my way over. Where is that exactly?”
Calmly, without her usual sense of panic or fear of visitors she gave Winston her address.
“I’m leaving now. I should be with you in less than a hour.”
“See you soon.”
Josephine felt excited and worried all at the same time. She was surprised by his accent, very public school boy, like a BBC presenter from the 1960’s. In her dreams she had not noticed that.
All of her life Josephine had been poor, her parents were poor and for some people this had been an issue. Wealthy people on the whole tended to look down on the less fortunate.
Molly her cat sensed that something was up and nestled herself on Josephine’s lap.
She did her best but I love you routine, rubbing herself back and forth against her arm whilst purring at full volume. Delighted by Molly’s antics she put her worries to one side, and scratched her furry friend behind the ears.
Molly jumped off Josephine’s lap in response to the screeching of the gate, the only time it made that sound was when Josephine returned home. This time the sound was made by Winston.
Josephine followed Molly to the door, opening it before Winston had a chance to knock.
She felt as if she had known Winston all of her life and they greeted each other naturally as old friends would.
“Come in, come in. Let me take your coat.”
“Thanks, it is so good to finally see you in the flesh.”
“I feel the same. I have so much to say to you.”
“Me too.”
Molly brushed herself against Winston’s leg, feeling curious about this stranger.
“Who is this?” he said, leaning down to stroke her ear.
“This is Molly, she kind of adopted me.”
“You made a good choice there Molly,” he said addressing the cat, who had now grown bored of his company.
She strutted off after stiffening and making a show of turning her back to him.
“I don’t think she is impressed by me,” he said.
“It’s not you, we don’t really have visitors.”
“I think that is all about to change, you are becoming a very significant being.”
“Not really, I am having an experience that thousands of people share.”
“Me included. I can’t believe what has happened, my dream was real, you are real.”
“Nothing really surprises me anymore, not with what I have been through.”
“We were meant to be together, you and I. Do you sense that?”
“I invited you here didn’t I, that must tell you something.” Josephine paused and regretting her words added. “Sorry, of course you are right, there is a higher power working here, and we must just go with it.”
“I’m not that bad am I?”
“I didn’t mean that. I know nothing about you. What do you do?”
“You mean how do I earn a living. I guess you don’t watch the news. I am an MP for the Conservative Party.”
“That must be difficult, with all this.”
“It doesn’t help no. I considered quitting but decided in the end it might do more good if I stayed. The dreams and everything have turned my world upside down.”
“At least you are not crazy.”
“Why would you say that?”
“When this all started I felt as though I was losing my mind. I did some crazy, stupid things, ended up in a mental hospital. It’s the voices that is the hardest thing to bear.”
“Well you don’t seem at all crazy to me, quite the opposite in fact. If I started hearing voices I would question my own sanity.”
“Thanks for that. It means a lot, what you think.”
“I am a mere humble MP, my opinion counts for very little.”
“Anyway that is all in the past. It is the future we should be worried about.”
“Tell me about yourself. I want to know everything about you.”
“There is not a lot to tell really. I used to paint, but I don’t have the heart for it now. My mum was quite famous for her artwork, I wanted to be just like her, but I don’t have the talent or the passion.”
“There is an art to what you do, bringing all these people together, that means more than a painting. Does you mum still paint?”
“No, she doesn’t, she died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, she led a great life, full of happiness. She wouldn’t be happy in this world.”
“What happened to her?”
“Opium, she was addicted to Opium. She died as she lived, with a smile on her face.”
“I bet you miss her?”
“I always knew she would die young. She lived life in the fast lane, never stopping, embracing life. She lived more in one year than most people live in a lifetime.”
“And you?”
“I am not my mother, I would like to be.”
Winston noticed that Josephine’s face lit up as she spoke of her mother. Her features radiated with joy and happiness. He hoped that one day he could also be a source of her happiness.
“Why don’t we take a leaf out of your mother’s book and go and have some fun?”
“And do what exactly?” she laughed.
“Forget the bad times, laugh, see the sights, walk, eat and be merry.”
“Ok, let me get my coat.”
“Allow me,” said Winston as he held her coat open for her to put on.
Winston unlatched the screechy gate for her, and he ran on ahead to unlock his car. He sat in the driver’s seat and opened the passenger door, beckoning her to join him.
“Hop in.”
Josephine sat in the offered seat, noticing the smell of new leather.
“This is a bit flash.”
“I bought this before I developed a conscience.”
“I see. I like it, it suits you.”
“I am glad you approve. Where would you like to start our fun day?”
“I don’t know, I can’t think. I could show you my mother’s painting.”
“I’d like that. Where is it?”
“The Tate Modern.”
“The Tate it is.”
Winston drove along to the south bank of the River Thames at Bankside. He stopped the car and parked near Blackfriars bridge.
They got out of the car and walked to the entrance of the gallery which was a lowered concrete platform. Josephine led the way and he followed her to the third level of the building.
“What do you think of this,” she said excitedly.
“Wow, I am not a fan of abstract, but this is amazing. Is this your mother’s painting?”
“No, and it’s not abstract its surrealist. This is ‘La Vertu noire’, this painting was my mother’s inspiration.”
“It is certainly inspirational.”
Josephine walked to the next canvas. “This is my mother’s work, ‘The Gate-keeper’.”
The oil painting was two dimensional; divided by light and vibrant shades with a doorway leading to deeper and darker tones. The alternate visions differed in texture, brush strokes and depth of color. It conveyed an emotional mixture of pure joy and pure despair all under one canvas.
“It appears almost alive.”
“My mother wanted to convey the true spirit of the soul, embracing both parts, unifying the good with the bad. She said this painting made her feel complete, whole.”
“She was a brave woman to look within herself like that. To accept what we don’t wish to see.”
“Your words would make her happy. She would have liked you.”
“You get a sense of the person, almost a self-portrait.”
“Shall we get out of here? Grab a coffee, or something?”
Winston admired her, she managed to stay so cheerful when she talked about her mother, it was as if even in death her mother kept her happy with her memories.
They walked together losing their fears with each other’s smiles and laughter. Like most people they remained blasé about the growing levels of violence. They chatted as they walked and Josephine told him all about how and why she started the Follow the Light site and about her friend Mr. Wiu. He told her what happened to him after the dreams, how he nearly quit his job, but decided he could do more good if he stayed. The smell of ground coffee roasting wafted towards them and they followed the heady aroma to a nearby café. They sat together in the café embracing their mugs of hot caffeine.
“Mr. Wiu and his girlfriend May are coming over to mine tomorrow. You should come and meet them. I know you’ll get on.”
“I just cleared today so I could spend it with you. I have a couple of meetings tomorrow. What time? I can re-arrange things.”
“We were going to meet up around five teatime.”
“Five it is. Does this mean our date is over for today?”
“I do have to get back, Molly, the Site.”
“I understand. I’ll take you home.”
Arriving back at Josephine’s flat Winston got out of the car and walked her to the door. He felt a surge of childish awkward excitement as he shyly kissed her on the cheek.
“Goodnight”
“Goodnight”
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trismugistus reviewed Version 1 -
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The start is a bit of an info-dump.
For some reason it popped into my head that the first part could work well if you had a reporter interview Winston (or maybe someone could be reading the interview as an article?). You could then have the reporter ask stuff, like has he considered running for leader of the party and he could give one of those non-committal answers typical of politicians.
The back-stabbing comments could be what he overhears when leaving the interview, maybe? From a structural point of view this is quite contradictory—it would seem odd that others know about his change of heart/direction and yet he’s still in the running for leader.
I would have thought this change of heart would be leaked to the press if others knew, or, more likely, he would be keeping it secret, especially if it’s a time of fascism as it would endanger his life. Though going to the Tate with a former mental patient and proto-revolutionary is also a strange move in this context.
I think the next part about his change of heart needs to be expanded up on—why has he changed his opinions? Crystallise it into some event that he either sees or is part of that we the reader can experience as well, and hence get a better understanding of why he has changed.
Also, and I won’t use the old cliche that you’re telling not showing, but I think you could stand to loose things like “Later in his dream”. Mainly because it’s overkill—if you have a politician sit down in a comfy chair with a scotch and relax and then in the next section he’s suddenly climbing a mountain then your readers will know it’s probably a dream (or maybe a flashback). Spelling it out is a little unnecessary.
Which also is another thing—you need clearer section breaks. These may have been lost as I know urbis buggers about with format codes, but in the above example simply having a symbol or bigger gap to tell readers know it’s a new section (I find # works well on urbis) achieves the whole ‘he slips into a dream’ thing without any effort.
It also avoids any confusions for readers--the gaps tell us where time elapses, for example. It’s like the whole solving wars/religion thing seemed a bit odd--it’s just covered in a short paragraph. Is that because it’s part of a dream? Or have you just glossed over it?
It seems an odd thing for a non-prime minister to be doing, and also a little contrary to the fascist government thing you mentioned—wouldn’t they just invade places? Fascist governments tend to revolve around the cult of the leader (Hitler, Stalin or of course Big Brother), who effectively becomes a messiah and so they don’t really need religions as such. They also thrive on war, so a fascist peace-maker seems oddly contradictory.
Fair enough for someone who has changed their heart, but we’re back to that thing of isn’t he meant to be ‘towing the line’? Unless it’s another dream. The formatting could generally do with some work.
During the section where Winston and Josephine speak it needs a bit more breaking up. You have the bit with the cat, but then there is basically just speech (too much of which is unattributed). Have them do stuff—walk into the living room and sit down. She would at least offer him a cup of tea/coffee. He could look around her place, maybe see pictures of her and her mother and ask about them directly. Also, put in more “said”s it helps the reader immensely.
btw, and I don’t know how close you’re intending the governmental structure to be to our current times, but the first line is kinda wrong (with the shadow stuff and just being “high-ranking”). I can expand on that if its relevant—obviously, I don’t know how you’ve covered it earlier in the story :).
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oknapp reviewed Version 1 -
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“His mind gently became soothed and” . I would take out gently become soothed” You don’t need it. Just say his mind became gently sedated, otherwise the sentence is crowded.
Whilst asleep Winston began dreaming: How about, while asleep, winston dreamed…. Dreaming somehow doesn’t sound right.
Ok i do not like the switch where your character dreams of Josephine. Here’s why it doesn’t work: It looks rushed and the reader only sees Josephine through third person. Where is Josephine’s voice.
What is distinct about Jospehine? We are all distinct. It is redundant unless you tell the reader what is distinct about her.
He brought the world’s religious leaders together for peace talks; he campaigned across the board and even in schools. The wars continued.
This is a very ambitious undertaking. Who were the leaders? How were they included in the talk? What did they do or say at these meetings? If you don’t answer these questions the reader will be annoyed. You have left them hanging.
You mention Josephine by name earlier when talking about the dream.(At that point both Winston and Josephine awoke from their dreams)
You should have referred to her as the mysterious lady. Later you introduce her as Josephine as if the reader doesn’t already know who she is.
What made Winston fire up the computer? What made him consider that he would find the light on the computer? This would be the last place i would look. For instance, when considering the light i would have thought of the sun or the moon--never the computer. Why couldn’t you have given him a more religious expierence. Maybe in his dream, he could have seen the sun shining near a lake with a lush forest. Maybe he could recongize the forest and their might be a path leading up to a small cottage. Jospehine could have been walking by the lake with the sun touching her long blonde hair that was blowing in the gentle wind. He could have then walked up to her and reached out and touched her hair and said something poignant. Do you see where i am going. Dreams -light-beauty-unification-. I am trying to help you, not harm.
You have changed voices. We are now hearing the story through Josephine. This is not always wise. It confuses the reader. Why not tell it in third person and stay there?
Not really, I am having an experience that thousands of people share.”
“Me included. I can’t believe what has happened, my dream was real, you are real.
Do thousands of people meet people in their dreams? This story could be made so unique. Where is the question marks here?
On page 7 i cannot tell who is talking here. Do something with the dialogue. Let the reader know who is talking.
Why would Josephine smile when she remembered her opium addicted mother? It doesn’t fit. Addictions are serious. No wonder she died with a smile on her face. She was high as a kite. You have lost the political theme and now the work is centered around WINSTON AND JOSEPHINE.
Waht i see here is a good wrier who has so many gtood ideas. Your knowledge of art is outstanding. Your discriptive skills are amazing. I feel you are tryiong to tackle a subject that you nothing about politics!! Who knows about them. No one. Look, the first rule of writing is to write what you know. If i were you i would scrap the politics and go with creating a story about Josephine and Winston. You could put them in an artistic setting. If you ever need me and are not mad email. I don’t know much, but maybe i can help in some way. Resepctfully, Sandi
Enigma28 reviewed Version 1 -
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third glass of Jim Bean. – is this supposed to be Jim Beam?
He looked around him and – this should be ‘he looked around himself’
in box – inbox is one word.
This is an intruiging piece but not engaging nor particularily interesting. I think it has great potential but their are a few key elements that you are missing. Their is no real description of either character or where they live, where they are or even Molly the cat. Is this because their is prior description in another part of your novel?
What happens in this particular novel is not greatly interesting either, this is like a chapter between happenings, if you want to attract an agent you should have an engaging piece up here to catch their attention.
Despite the few hickups their are no real grammatical errors or anything like that so well done.
If you just add some description and possibly make some of the narrative made into conversation this piece could be a whole lot more interesting.
Keep at it and goodluck
tstone reviewed Version 1 -
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it moved… the pace is good. pace seems to be the most important factor in a plot-driven novel, so you’ve accomplished that.
depending on your goals for this, the characters could be elaborated on. they are somewhat two-dimensional and cliche in places—although, this is actually a good thing if you intend to focus on the action. the two seem to be co-protagonists, both equally important to the story.
i feel it could use a tiny bit more of a visual skeleton. a few more brief descriptions of scenery, buildings, etc. would help to give the reader a solid stage on which the characters could play. nothing elaborate; just a few more visual cues.
overall, good. it seems you know what you want to do with the story, and you don’t waste the reader’s time with flowery metaphors. it reads like a script.
oneshot92 reviewed Version 1 -
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the only changes he could make would, for the most part, would be inconsequential and insignificant. – Pg 1 Remove one of the “woulds” here.
Jim Bean- Jim Beam.
and we must just go with it.” – pg. 6 remove the “just” here. It boggles up the reader.
Does you mum still paint?” – pg. 7 “Your” mum
You have done some really nice work here. Try Tabbing your paragraphs and closing the spacing. Also look at seperating the dialogue. this will help with the flow. good luck and thank you for the oppertunity to review.
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