thanks. good call on the redundancy. funny you mentioned Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett. funny because they are two of my favorite authors. i’d take any of their works vs. some artsy, dramatic book. Old Tom will of course return, but i’m not sure if he’ll do anything to change the course of the story… Stan is just a gag, nothing to him except some jokes. I’ll probably bring him back around as well but only while referring to the alley and Tom. also, with the comment about the prom dress you’ve already got my mind spinning with some ideas. thanks.
Sci Fi & Fantasy / *Currently Untitled* (pt. 1)
As alleyways go, this alley was a typical one. It had, at one time, been given a name that had long ago been forgotten; now, it was only known as Tom's Way. It was dark, creepy, smelly, full of trash, and home to various insects, rodents, a homeless man named Stan, and the Cat. Those unfamiliar with the alley rarely ever entered. Those who did made sure to have approval of the alley's most fearsome resident before entering. Many an unknowing and naive pedestrian had come out of that alley with wounds they had sustained from this resident. He had no name that he called himself, but others referred to him as Old Tom.
Old Tom kept a careful watch over his domain. Everything that occurred within his alley was known to him, if not approved by him. How long he had lived there was a mystery. Some claimed he had always lived there and was on his eighth life. Others proposed that he was the incarnation of Lady Bertraum who had died in a horrific fire forty-three years ago. But those who lived and had businesses along the alley knew that he was only a mean, feisty old cat.
Tom was contemplating the next morning's scraps that the local butcher would leave for him in the morning when two men stumbled into Tom's alley. One of them was obviously drunk. Obvious because of the way he stumbled about but also because as soon as they had rounded the corner into the alley, he blurted out, "God, I'm really drunk!"
"You don't say," replied the second fellow. He was roughly six-foot-two and appeared to weigh one hundred forty-five pounds. His clothing was rich yet hung loosely about him as if he had just recently lost a hundred pounds. What caused most people to look twice in his direction was the inability to determine his age with a glance. At first notice, he appeared to be forty-seven, then look again and he looks twenty-eight, then sixty-seven, then twelve. But it's impossible to be all, so most just figure he's thirty-three.
"I do say! And I don't care who hears it. Do you hear me?" said the lanky man's companion. He was quite the opposite of his friend. He wore a drab suit that appeared to have never seen an iron or steam press even though the clothing was stretched to its limit. But what drew the eye was that he appeared to encompass one's whole eyesight when looking at him. That also is an impossibility, so it was ignored as him just being a large, rotund man.
"Yes, I hear you. I'm standing right next to you. We can all see that you are drunk. Must you always state the obvious?"
"Yes. Now where else shall we go? I feel soberness creeping in and that just will not do. Let's go hit up Larry's."
"We were just thrown out of Larry's because you insisted on throwing peanuts at Larry's wife."
"Oh. Right. She deserved it. She looks like an ape. So where to, then?"
"Well, if you think you can fit your corpulent ass into another pub, then let's hit up Louis' on Fifth."
"I really don't appreciate your snide remarks. I'm not corpulent. I took a shower this morning and smell just..." Before he could finish his sentence, the portly fellow stumbled over what Stan referred to as his coffee table. With a "flump", he landed in Stan's bedroom with his leg straddling Stan's sleeping chest. Stan mumbled something about a war. "You bastard. You let me fall."
"Of course I did, you oaf. Your grubby paws are filthy and I just bought this suit."
"You bought it thirty-five years ago."
"Well whatever. Thirty-five years isn't that long ago. Now get up and let's head over to Louis'." With that the tall man strolled out of the alley way.
"You bastard. Get back here you... you... bastard. Oh God, where am I?" He attempted to rise, made it halfway, stumbled into Stan's kitchen, knocked over Stan's dish, then landed in Stan's toilet.
Old Tom watched silently, slightly amused.
From out of nowhere two men in black suits and ties appeared next to the fallen man. (In all actuality, they did come from "somewhere" but the description of where involves the bending of space which only a physicist would be able to describe in a manner that no one else would understand. Therefore, it's easier to say "nowhere.") The two men stood silently, surveying the alley with just a turning of their heads. One of the men in black looked down at the fallen drunk and asked, "So is this him?"
The other held up a wooden block with a man's image engraved on it. "This is him. One Jim Jimmerton."
"Oh. Where did you two fine sirs come from?"
"Hmm. Thought he would have looked... different. And what kind of name is Jim Jimmerton?"
"So do you mind lending me a hand, I seem to have fallen into..."
"His name doesn't matter. He's the target. That is all that matters."
"It seriously is very rude to ignore..."
"Rodger. Guess we should get a move on."
"Agreed."
"Just please, lend me a hand and I'll be on my way." Both men complied with Jim's request. Then one of the men in black spoke into his cufflink and all three disappeared.
Without so much as a blink, Old Tom returned to cleaning his face.
***
In another place, called L.A., there lived a man by the name of Richard Flute (he went by Rick). He referred to himself as a simple man with a simple life, looking for simple pleasures. Everyone else referred to him as a controlling clean freak who had his head up his own ass. But Rick didn't hear any of that, mostly because he refused to be around anyone outside of work. He was a shoe salesman at one of the huge retail stores that didn't really care what kind of people skills he had, as long as he sold shoes. Which for a clean freak becomes tough; he hated touching strangers' feet.
At this moment in Rick's life, he is found stuck in traffic. He had anticipated such a problem and had left three hours earlier than he needed to and would have reached his work a full hour before his shift; that is, if the events were to occur had never happened.
Yet Rick was unaware of the events that were about to transpire and found himself humming as he awaited the vehicle in front of him to crawl forward. "Let's see what's on the radio today," he said to no one in particular. With a flip of a switch he tuned into his favorite sation, AM 870 KRLA, hoping for some business or financial talk show. It wasn't. Due to his leaving early, Rick's normal shows weren't on yet. This started to put Rick into a sour mood, yet he would not change the station because this was the one he always listened to.
"If only this traffic would hurry up. Damn construction." he stated to the air.
The car in front of him pulled forward. Rick released his foot off of the brake and slipped through a rift in space.
***
"This isn't right," said Chief Thurman. He, also, was speaking out loud to no one. "I'm sure I left the keys... Honey, do you know where I left my keys? They're not on the desk where I left them."
From somewhere in the kitchen, a voice responded, "They're in here, dear."
Chief Thurman left the study with a "hrumph" and made his way into the kitchen. "This isn't where I left them."
"Cindy took your car out last night. She went to a movie with some friends." Mrs. Thurman stood next to the kitchen's island, mixing some sort of batter that Chief Thurman knew would be incredible and torture when finished. He had just started his diet. She motioned with a flour-covered hand, pointing out the keys' position on the counter next to the toaster.
"Well, why didn't she put the keys back where she found them?" he asked as he reached for the keys.
"Just be glad she left them in here. Her room is a mess. So have you thought any more on how much we're willing to spend on her dress? Her prom is coming up in just a few short weeks."
"Hmm?"
"You can't put it off any longer. We both need an answer."
"We'll discuss it over dinner tonight. I should be home early. I'm running late, though. There's construction on the highway. So I'll have my answer tonight. Love ya, babe." He walked over to his wife, gave her a peck, and slipped out of the kitchen into the hallway before she could say anything else, thankful that he had averted yet another discussion on his youngest daughter's prom dress. It wasn't that he was concerned about the money; his concern was over her last few moments before she left the house. Her prom was just one of the steps. Sidestepping it wouldn't prolong her staying at home, but not thinking about it felt good.
As he left his front door and stepped off the porch, he let out another sigh. Cindy had parked the car in front of the mailbox again. He attempted to recall the number of times he had told her not to do that, but the task proved impossible. Didn't matter today, anyway. He was leaving well before the mailman would ever show up. Chief Thurman knew that any attempt to bring up the subject at the dinner table would have been futile, so he opened the car door and slipped in. As soon as the key was turned, a blaring noise invaded his eardrums, causing him to yell in an attempt to match the speakers' volume. Quickly he turned off the radio and then offered up a silent prayer, hoping that the rest of the day wouldn't progress like it had started.
***
Rick was unaware that he had shifted through space until he slammed into the back of what appeared to be some sort of concrete beam.
A talking concrete beam.
"Oi! What's this?!"
To Rick's dismay, what he had at first mistaken for a concrete beam was in fact a leg to a rather large rock-giant. The giant moved slowly and clumsily and when he spoke, Rick could feel his bones vibrate. Rick also believed that he saw moss growing in patches on the rock-giant's legs, but was unsure given the angle he was looking at the beast. What worried Rick even more was that the rock-giant seemed to have taken notice to Rick's car ramming him in the back of his leg and was turning toward Rick.
"Oi! What's this?!" A few rocks that were in the rock-giant's mouth fell out and landed on the hood of Rick's car. Rick remained still and silent, hoping that the beast wouldn't notice him within his car.
"Oi! Why you stop?! Brunth mad you stop eating!" a second rock-giant bellowed. This one Rick could see in its entirety. It appeared to be eating rocks from a large pile set in front of it. It was indeed moss that Rick had seen, because this one had a full head of it for its hair.
"Oi! This hit me! What's this?!"
"Oi! Don't know! What's this?!"
Rick remained motionless as the two rock-giants discussed their inability to correctly classify his car. Rick knew all of this made sense; he was just unaware of to whom it made sense. He was sure he would find out, and his best bet in doing so meant that he must remain calm and slowly digest everything his eyes were showing him.
"Oi! It metal! Can't eat!"
"Oi! Golem?!"
"Oi! Golem clay!"
Slowly his eyes took in his surroundings. There were pile of rocks throughout what appeared to be some sort of gravel pit. There was a building behind the second rock-giant; it was made of wood and appeared to have been thrown together in a hurry and inexpensively. Out of Rick's rearview mirror he noticed what appeared to be an entrance into the yard with a gate that also appeared to be ajar.
A small, stout bearded man burst out of the makeshift building. "A'ight, a'ight. What be the hold up 'ere? Time is money and money is sometin' I be wantin' a lot of." For a small man, he quickly closed in on Rick's car, then jumped onto the hood of the car in order to talk to the rock-giants more effectively. He paid no heed to the motionless Rick.
"Oi! This hit me!"
"Oi! What this?!"
The small man, which Rick assumed to be Brunth, finally looked down at the vehicle he was standing on, gave the hood a good stomp, rubbed his beard and then continued his questioning. He still hadn't noticed Rick.
"A'ight, a'ight. We be figurin' that out. Now where'd Troi be runnin' off to?"
"Oi! Troi gone!"
"Oi! He gone!" The beast shoved a rock into its mouth and began to chomp down hard on it. Bits of it were falling out of his mouth.
"Yes, I see that! Where'd he go?"
"Oi! This here, he not!"
"Oi! What this!" A large rock fell out of the beast's mouth.
"What'd I be sayin' 'bout you talkin' while you be workin'? Now you be sayin' this here contraption," he gave the hood a few more stomps for emphasis, "is where Troi t'was?"
"Oi!"
The other one remained silent.
"A'ight, a'ight. Well let's see what we be 'ave 'ere." With that, Brunth turned and stared right at Rick.
*to be continued*
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ammahaffey reviewed Version 2 -
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I really love your character development and your style of writing is charming. I’d love to learn more about this other world you have so richly created.
However, I found a few issues with this piece:
You definitely had an overactive use of the word “appear”. I noticed that the word sometimes “appeared” (ha ha) multiple times in the same paragraph.
I was getting confused with the characters and who was who and what setting we were in. In particular, I had no idea what relevance Old Tom had to the whole story. Maybe it is because Old Tom is an obscure figure who will become more significant in further installments, but in any case, I didn’t understand how the segment with him and the strangers had anything to do with the plot or Old Tom’s character. Since he was such a mean old cat, and you had just gotten through with explaining that to us, why did he just idly sit by and laugh when the strangers stumbled into his alley?
Besides all that, I really do like the way you write, and I think, if you clean it up, you have the beginnings of a solid piece of work.
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socfetiche reviewed Version 2 -
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As far as sci-fi goes, I think this is a pretty good start. The story pulled me in and grabbed my attention to the point that I wasn’t looking at it with a critical eye anymore, which is a good sign.
Just a few things.
For one, I would like to understand how Stan and Old Tom come into play with the story. Now, I’m sure you’ll go back to these characters in the next installment, because you’ve established from the beginning that they are significant.
A few sentences were redundant. For example: “Tom was contemplating the next morning’s scraps that the local butcher would leave for him in the morning when two men stumbled into Tom’s alley.” You could omit the second “in the morning” and this would work just fine.
Not all repetition is bad, though. For instance, the next sentence repeats “obviously drunk”, although not in the phrase entirely. This reminds me of the wit of Douglas Adams. In fact, a lot of the story’s funny parts are both Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett.
Also, I liked the part about Chief Thurman and his daughter’s prom dress. It was a nice little detail that should have some comedic recurrence later on.
Can’t wait to see part 2!
Yunalesta reviewed Version 2 -
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It was pretty good. A little confussing but still good.
Like the sentence in (). You could have left it out I think.
Niko89101 reviewed Version 2 -
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The piece is really too short to get a good look at it. Mixing sci-fi and fantasy usually doesn’t work, but I’d be willing to see more
Scarlett_156 reviewed Version 2 -
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I can’t find much technically that is wrong with this. It seems pretty entertaining so far.
“The car in front of him pulled forward. Rick released his foot off of the brake and slipped through a rift in space.”
I hate it when that happens. But seriously, folks: “Rick released his foot off of” is WAY too many words for the action you’re trying to convey. “Rick released the brake” or even “Rick’s foot slipped off the brake and his car slipped through a rift in space” gets the idea across without the redundancy.
~ yours in Chaos, Scarlett
loserlucky89 reviewed Version 2 -
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The idea for the story would make for a great children’s story if the word choice was changed a little bit. I know that’s not quite what you were going for with this particualar piece so if an adult scifi story is what your want to aim for try rereading the story a couple times and add some depth to the plot and characters. Sorry to be harsh but I think to an adult reader the story may appear boring, however if changed in the comprehension level children may really enjoy a story like this.
jakuper reviewed Version 2 -
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He was roughly six-foot-two and appeared to weigh one hundred forty-five pounds—he sounds just from the concentration camp. It’s impossibly thin. He could get such weight only by starvation. It’s 30-40 pounds under minimum normal.
he landed in Stan's bedroom —I looked up and down the story to understand who Stan is and couldn’t find. What’s more, I couldn’t understand whetner Stan spoke or not. You should tag your dialogue better, as I was in mist about the identity of the speaker all the time.
Your explanation about “came from nowhere” is very good and clever.
I totally loved the story till now. You portrait each character, even stone giants in such beautiful colours that I can see them.
About plot – I’ll be able to tell about it only in future when I read more.
I hope there is more.
gemglitter reviewed Version 2 -
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Comments: I think your idea is very unique and interesting. I can see this in scifi, and if you edit some parts in young adults for all the now new scifis. I love the detail and discussion about the prom dress, it was really touching. I like the cat, you should have something more about the cat.
Suggestions: About the cat, what is the purpose of the cat? You start off your story and you’re describing the cat, and how the cat is and you lead your reader thinking that it is about the cat. A tip about writing is that you start late in the scene. If the story has nothing to do, in the future, with the cat I would start the scene with the two drunk men. Describing the alley as typical doesn’t draw the reader in, tell how it is smelly. Is the smell of decaying flesh from the butchers trash lingering in the air? Make us gag lol. You also need to work on the drunk part. You repeat that word “Drunk” so many times in the sentence that I just wanted to say, “okay yes, he’s drunk.” I think you can even omit the word and just by action pretty much say he’s drunk. I was also confused on the whole living room, bedroom part. What were you trying to say? Your dialogue throughout all of your scenes is confusing. You need tag lines, or some descriptions before the dialogue. I spent half my time rereading your dialogue, which is good if I could spend less time figuring out who said what.
Try,
“Mom,” she says. “Can I have pizza?”
“Sure,” the mom says.
“Thanks!”
Not that kids are polite but yeah. See you have two tag lines, and once the pattern has been established you know that “thanks” is from the daughter.
slbynum3 reviewed Version 2 -
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I guess this would be classified as sci-fi. There are so many things happening and so many characters though, that I don’t see what is the specific plot of this. There are just a bunch of crazy scenes that don’t seem connected yet. Maybe I’d have to read more to see where this is going.
“That also is an impossibility” Occasionally you stick a present tense word in the story, such as the word ‘is’ here.
I found some parts of this very funny, so it was kind of entertaining. The writing is good, but I think the story needs shaping up.
Tigra reviewed Version 1 -
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His clothing was rich—I would say that his clothing looked of fine quality or something like this because it sounds as though the clothing not the occupant is the one making the money.
I would consider tagging your dialogue, it is sometimes hard to understand who is speaking.
With a “flump—-consider a different word other then flump. I have a hard time thinking of this as a sound.
with just a turning of their head.—-should be heads
As soon as the key was turned a blaring noise invaded his eardrums causing him to yell in an attempt to match the speakers volume—-I like that you have added this, I too always used to leave the radio loud.
This reminds me of some sort of dream. I like the idea of the rock giants, I thought they were described well and were interesting. I am wondering where the other giant went…
Tigra
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