Novel Treatments / This Time Tomorrow
Over and over again. How many mind-numbing questions can one person fucking ask? Does it matter what I’m doing or where Youssef is or where she is or what she’s doing or why I’m here or there? NO, IT DOES NOT. I want to be left alone. I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want to hear their voices or anything. I just want to grab something incredibly heavy and smash it through a window. And when I smash it I want the glass all over everyone and I want everyone to bleed and cry and go away. Just leave me alone. I don’t care where you are or what you’re doing. I feel like there’s an enormous mound of poison brewing in my stomach, getting heavier and heavier, breathing down my neck and screaming in my ears. Everything is flashing, all the fucking walls and suffocating air. I cant breathe. My whole body feels like it might explode, my lungs are heaving back and forth within my chest BEGGING ME for freedom. STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP. I cant. I cant move or think or feel. I just need to collapse now; just fall down and keep falling and never hit a bottom. Never stop this terrible feeling as it eats away at my brain.
OPTIONS: First one: Run away. Bad idea, I have no money or real place to go for that matter. I could steal my dad’s credit card but he’ll be able to track that. I could just save up my money and then runaway on Christmas or some dramatic shit like that. Or, I could wait until Christmas and steal all the presents, sell them, use the money to run away… I’m not sure how long such a thing would last me. I bet I’d get a good $800 though, my parents always spend way too much on their spoiled disgusting children. No, no, no, I have a better idea. I should just give up everything. There’s no in between. I can either steal all my parent’s money and live a lavish life for a couple weeks in a hotel room, or I could give up absolutely everything and live a terrible life forever and never ever come back. Never have to depend on anyone or anything ever again… If I did that I would have to get some fucking courage though. You can’t hitchhike all the way to New York City if you’re always afraid of everything. Maybe I’ll find someone to run away with. Note to self; look for people seemingly miserable and desperate to escape. Common side effects: Writing shitty journal entries that will eventually be thrown away because paper listens better than everyone around them, dreaming up shitty plans to escape said people, never actually hearing a single word anyone says because there’s already way too many flooding their mind, feeling constantly nauseous and throwing up every day after their mom leaves the house, sticking pens through their walls to try to get a hole to the outside when they could much easier just open the window, avoiding doing anything the much easier way, writing random thoughts that make no sense all over their math homework and subsequently not doing said math homework at all, trying to discover a way to allow people to read their mind so they could tell them how they really feel without actually having to say anything mean, limbs shaking uncontrollably, eyes tearing up uncontrollably, heart pounding and thrashing against their chest uncontrollably, brain stabbing their soul over and over and over again with it’s verbal assaults of superiority, everything in general becoming completely and utterly uncontrollable. Shouldn’t be too hard to spot.
Second option: Join one of those caravans that go no real place at all. If I were to head anywhere I’d try desperately to avoid the middle of the states, but if I could just get through all the shitty middle part and hit the ocean I could steal a boat, perhaps. My uncle lives in San Francisco, I could go to him and ask for money, and I bet he’d give me some seeing as he and Jim are two rich gay men with good jobs and nice hair. Plus they really like me, I’m their favorite of all my cousins. Probably because they think I’m the smartest for some reason. Every time I go there they introduce me to all their handsome gay men friends and tell them in a really interesting and intellectual manner that I’m the only good thing left in Colorado. And their flat mates Matt and Matty always try to give me cigarettes and when I tell them I don’t smoke they get all excited and impressed and proceed to fawn over me for a while. I bet all of them would give me some money, I wouldn’t tell them what I was doing with it, and if they asked I’d just say I was using it for research or some crap like that and they’ll believe it because they all think I’m the smart one. Only a couple problems could possibly arise from this scenario. First, I don’t know where to find a caravan. And if I could find one I know I’m much too afraid to actually join them, I’d probably get flashing images of some horror flick and then opt for a bus instead. Second, after I have obtained money from all the rich gay men of San Francisco and stolen a boat, both of which could definitely be achieved, I’m not sure where I’d go. The bay is on the Pacific, after all, which is fairly the opposite direction I’d want to sail. To get anywhere I want to go I’d have to go all the way around Asia or just go down through the Panama canal and cross the Atlantic. Either way, its not that simple. I’m gonna ponder those two options some more, it’s possible that a good night’s rest will decide which way to take this: steal the Christmas presents and go to New York, or join caravan, get money, steal boat, and sail across ocean. I really can’t decide which I’d rather do.
And now… and now I cant think a single thought without it making some pathetic, feeble attempt to be more than just another reason to lose my mind. The worst part is that I know someone else is going to read this and it disgusts me that I even wrote this in here in the first place. I mean, how wretched? I promise I’m not trying to get attention, but a lot of times when things shake up in my brain I cant breathe unless I let them go. I just need to let everything go if I ever want to be sane. And then when I write things like that I know that my mom will do her little snoop routine and find this and put me in therapy and deny any wrong doing and blame my dad for buying me too many shoes and all those expensive hair cuts, and then I’ll have to sit in a hot room with fake plants and unread books and a complete stranger and pretend like I don’t want to cry every single second of every single day for no reason at all. Like I don’t hold back with every single gripping string of humanity that I have left in this body not to scream in the middle of a busy room.
So I guess in the scheme of things this little collection of words will serve a greater purpose than simple proof of incarceration or therapy documents to be studied tediously; someday I want to have everything and nothing, ya know? I never want to feel like I’m wrong or right, I just want to be. I want a reason to feel satisfied someday. If I could just have everything happen for the right reasons, though, I’d be satisfied. No more empty promises or punching depression because I never fulfill them, no more crying and puking and screaming but never saying a word allowed. This time tomorrow I’ll be far away, right? This time I’ll go through with it. Leave my friends behind me, leave my family I never loved and my school I never learnt from, leave everything to fate and just have every day be different than the one before. And you’ll never know where I am.
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I did like this, so this won’t be mean. I do think you could give us a little more information on why everything is so screwed up in the girls life- so far all you say is that she never loved her family. Well, okay, but why did she never love her family?
This was good, and I would like to read more.
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I can’t believe anyone would tell you to “give up” on this talent that you have. You’re seventeen and writing prose like a jaded thirty year old divorced mom of two who was just fired for taking home a pencil. Just imagine what you will be able to do when you really are thirty.:) But you do have a journey ahead of you to get there.
There are brilliant, original moments in this piece. Let me start with that, but move on to what I didn’t like. The first paragraph doesn’t have the feeling of the rest of the piece. ”And when I smash it I want the glass all over everyone and I want everyone to bleed and cry and go away.” I don’t like this line. It’s too shallow for your work – I’d like to see you elaborate on it with some more descriptive terms. i.e. Glass biting everyone, want everyone to hurt, etc. Tell it from their perspective – you want your reader to know that you know how it would feel for your targets and you don’t care because you’re so pissed at them. For the last line this paragraph, I suggest something other than brain – the brain is the gray mass of tissue in your skull. Only diseases eat at it, not psychological ailments. Consider mind, psyche, or, let’s get existential here, soul. This entire paragraph could use a once over so that it feels more desperate and claustrophobic – the ideas are good, but I think this is where your tirade started on paper and as such, you haven’t found your voice for this piece yet until you hit your stride in the second paragraph. Try reading the rest of the piece, without the first paragraph, and then reread the first paragraph, marking it up and writing notes in the margins as you go.
“because paper listens better than everyone around them” That line is a gem and is one of the peaks of this work. It pretty much sums the entire piece. ”sticking pens through their walls to try to get a hole to the outside” Another awesome line. In this torrent of symptoms, consider changing the “their” to “her” at some point during it, it doesn’t need to be the beginning. I know you’re describing this person you would be looking for to run away with, but your readers know that you’re actually describing yourself. I think it makes the piece more personal using the pronoun “her” rather than this mythical “they” out there somewhere that we don’t care about like we do the author.
“he and Jim are two rich gay men with good jobs and nice hair” – Little quips like this are what make your writing endearing. This is what you remember about these guys and what you associate with other thoughts – this is reality to you, and it’s unique to you. That’s what’s so interesting here and keeps me reading. “I’m the only good thing left in Colorado” – these characters really added flavor to this piece. Keep these types in your writing because it keeps it fresh and alive – see Kurt Vonnegut’s writing for a good representation of caricature writing. ”after I have obtained money from all the rich gay men of San Francisco” – even when you’re serious, you find the humor in things. Another endearing quality.
“sit in a hot room with fake plants and unread books” – another excellent observation of the facade of psychology, and really a brief indictment of this society. ”not to scream in the middle of a busy room. ” – I’d like to know what drove you to this point. That is never explored in any of your writing. We’ve only received hints. Let us know. Maybe in this piece, maybe in another. ”simple proof of incarceration” – I think that “of” would better serve as an “in”. ”leave my family I never loved and my school I never learnt from” – awesome writing and a great wrap up for this piece.
That last line I was expecting to be “And you’ll never know who I am.” before I finished reading it. Something to think about.
I’m surprise you never thought of selling yourself into prostitution or the porn industry for money.;) That would be the obvious choice for a young woman desperate for money – but that’s what makes your writing original and unique. These thoughts have never been put on paper this way before. This piece is a good accompaniment to the other couple treatises against society that you’ve put up. I can imagine them strung together in a single novel or chapbook.
Don’t stop.
You certainly have the talent to be a writer. This Time Tomorrow really displays your writing skills. I don’t know where you stand on the wiritng ladder but I certainly can say you are not a beginner. This part of a chapter held my interest and hooked me from the begining. I urge you to continue to write. Like anything else it takes practice, practice, and more practice. You practice by writing. I recommend that you keep everything that you write that way you can see your own progress.
What you may want to do is have a friend, not necessarily a critique group, read your writing back to you aloud. That way you can hear what you wrote and only you can know if that is what you really meant. However, the one thing you can not do is defend your writing. By the way, when I say not a critique group I say that because sometimes they can be very cutting and crewl. You don’t need that, what you need is guidance and praise.
If you could focus this torrent into prose you’d be published already. Let the silt settle then pour off the top. You’re mixed up. The writing is good but the content is sort of naive, or young. You are capable of much more. Many of us are bored and spiteful of these United States of Generica and you express it especially well, with voice, but I’d like to see you round a corner. It’s true, you are fighting upstream, but you are still in the river of the masses. Find yourself a tributary. I think you write well, especially considering your age. I think you need exposure. Not your work …not yet. Move away from home, just don’t burn any bridges. Let the world impress on you and you’ll become impressive indeed. Find your niche. You have time.
I read your introduction first, let me say, I felt the same way you did when I was younger. I think my writing is unique just like yours. And your writing IS unique. I like it, It as a different feel to it then other writers and thats what you need to be successful as a writer, a different voice. As for this piece, I (sorry but my opinion has to come in somewhere) think it would fare better as a play, it has a sort of life of its own almost like a monologue. Since I don’t know you I don’t know your style but your writing is very good overall. Keep writing, and remember criticism is there for you to take it or leave it. It just so happens that the nature of criticism is a beast! Contact me on AIM: PennStateENGL
i liked it very much. theres nothing to really say-it’s all written very well and does not need much changes. the story wrapped me in and i couldn’t stop reading it. very interesting. i liked it. keep on writing. structure is good. there is nothing i would change. keep doing what you are doing! good luck!
Honestly I liked it. You do have talent, and granted it may be undeveloped as of right now you are still young and you have so much time to develop your talent. Don’t give up!! If it i some thing that you love keep working for it. Writing is some thing hard to do and get right especially since every one likes something different and so don’t listen to them. Rest assured that you do have a talent worth developing. Trust me even some thing straight up and blunt people wont understand and they will trash just because they don’t understand it. Keep up the good work.
You ask for serious treatment; I do you the honour of taking you at your word.
“To be understood” a 5, but on the strength of the last paragraph, the best of the lot. Here we have something to work with, you Bret Easton Ellis-ite, you.
As to the whole, edit, edit, edit. Muriel Spark, Google her if you don’t know of her, says pick 3 details. No matter if a room, a person, a scene – 3 details are sufficient to convey what YOU see. Boil the thing down to its essence. If a word is not necessary – CUT IT. America has an amazingly literate society – you don’t need to beat the dead horse into dust.
Vitriolic Note to Reviewers aside, I kind of liked this. It’s bordering on Emo, but at least it’s presented in a better way than usual.
A couple of mechanical errors I noted:
“when they could much easier just open the window” – when they could open the window more easily
“Writing shitty journal entries… completely and utterly uncontrollable” – I liked this section a lot, but you should replace the commas with semicolons. Using the commas turns it into a James Joyce-esque run-on sentence.
“I mean, how wretched?” – period, not a question mark
Good luck with this.
I’m not going to lie to you. I liked this, but I normally like dark pieces. Most people don’t get it. I kinda do, get the angst I mean. It’s a common thing,unfortunately. But you do capture it well. I’m assuming the character is supposed to be kind of erratic and emotional in behavior, which is why the feeling of the piece is so all over the place. I like it though. I really hope to see more treatments of this.
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