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pointless and uncalled for
17:23 / 12.04.02
Found this short story I wrote a while back.

Any criticism you want to apply is up to you.

I apologise for the size but I have no host at the moment.

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She stands on the edge, waiting to make the decision. She's waiting for an answer from the question that keeps going round and round in the back of her head.
If I jump, will I fly?
It's an internal agony for her, the question repeats and the answer never comes. Time stretches out and seems to stretch her out with it.
She has her arms held out and, as a tear rolls down her cheek, she takes a deep breath and then shouts.
"Just tell me"
There's a pause, a moment of silence, and then the question returns to her, nestling in her mind and repeating itself endlessly. It seems so futile to her and she just wants to know the answer. With resignation she buries her face in her hands and even though she promised she wouldn't, she begins to cry.
She feels hand on her shoulder and from behind her a voice comes.
"Are you OK?
"She lifts her head and between sobs replies, "I just don't know anymore. I just don't know"
"Is there something that I can help you with?" came the voice again.
"Just leave me alone," she replies, her voice a getting angry and tense. She's sure this interruption has ruined any chance of getting an answer to the question.
She turns and pushes the arm from her shoulder. Without even looking at this person, she runs from the edge of the pool.
Back home now, sat on the edge of the bed. The question is still there, like a broken record.
If I jump, will I fly?
She can ignore it for brief periods but it's too much. It pervades her dreams, her work, her life and everything she does.
In her hands she holds some pills, they're the same pills she's been taking for the past five years, ever since the question first came. She tries to remember it but her minds in a fog. All this distraction has been going on and it refuses to leave.
She tries to decide between being a slave to the pills or a slave to the voice. She can't, the voice won't let her and if she takes the pills, they won't let her. She takes the pills anyway so that she can sleep. She'll try to decide in the morning, if she can remember.
She lies back on the bed and as the summer's night air drifts across her body, she falls asleep.

Jess is at work, trying to concentrate on clearing the table. It seems like such hard work for what everyone else seems to do so easily. Somewhere in the top of her head lies this memory that it didn't always used to be this way. The memory is of intelligence and clarity. She tried to work out why this is but she has too much to do.
Carefully she stacks the cups and saucers and then the plates onto the tray and takes them to the kitchen. She hears Guido, the chef, shouting at her but she can't pay attention. She doesn't need to; she's learned that he's always going to shout at her for being slow. Everyone tells her that it doesn't matter because she's "special". If only she knew why.
Sammy, the manager, calls her into the office when she's done in the kitchen. She gives Jess her wages and tells her that she's done for the day and should enjoy the rest of the weekend.
It annoys Jess a little that she has to be reminded that the workday is over. Apparently it's something to do with her being "special".
The next thing that she remembers, she is sat at a table in the diner, eating a slice of blueberry pie. She has a notepad in front of her and she's looking at what she has to remember to do next.
Every day she spends hours in the evening idly watching TV and planning the next day. She knows that she has to do this because otherwise she would just sit in the house and get nothing done. A doctor has told her that this is a bad thing and won't help her to recover.
Memories flash in front of her eyes but never stay long enough to mean anything. She's pleased to find out that she doesn't have to do anything this evening. She was so sure there was, but nothing is written down.
A voice behind her pervades through the mental fog.
"Excuse me Jess"
It isn't a voice that she recognizes. She looks up from her pie and in front of her stands a man. He's tall and handsome with long dark hair and a sweet smile. He's well dressed, or so she thinks, and has sunglasses on."Yes," she replies."I think I saw you last night, out by the swimming pool in the Lodge Gardens," says the man.
Jess tries to remember but nothing comes.
"You seemed a little upset, do you remember?" he enquires.
Jess smiles and shakes her head and then struck by a flash of inspiration reaches into her pocket. She draws out a small brown bottle contain pills.
"It's my medication, it makes me forget," she says, proud that she remembered this with ease. "Was I any trouble?'"No, no trouble at all"His hand reaches to his face and takes off his sunglasses to reveal bright blue eyes that seemed to stir the air and make everything become clear.
This moment of clarity left Jess dizzy and when the man asked her to follow him she was hypnotized and could only seem to answer yes.
She joined the man in his pick-up outside. His glasses were back on and the clarity had washed away but she knew that she was supposed to be with this man, wherever he led her.
He drove them about five miles out of town and to a small rough little building that stood back from the road in a copse. The evening was falling and as dusk surrounded them he led her inside. This struck a chord inside Jess. She knew that she was frightened about all of this but couldn't work out why. She thought about turning and running but there was a curiosity that needed to be satisfied.
The man turned to her and looked at her for a moment before he spoke."Have no fear Jess, I will not harm you. I will not touch you unless you ask me to. You are a beautiful woman but it would burn my heart to take advantage of you in that way."He reached for a switch by the door and turned on a light.
This place was very simplistic. The naked bulb hanging from the centre of the ceiling illuminated the room. The floor was bare wood and there was little furniture. In one corner stood an old stove with a flue that went up and then twisted out through the wall at the rear of the building. Next to that stood a sink beneath some shelves that held plates, bowls and cutlery. On the other side of the corner hung an array of pots, pans and cooking utensils. All of the pots and pans were black while the utensils were all of a light coloured wood. In the next corner stood a table surrounded by a few chairs and in the centre of the room, beneath the light, stood another chair.
The rest of the room was empty and noticeable very clean. It made Jess feel wrong about being here in case she was to soil something.
Two doors were in the wall to the left and otherwise small windows and a collection of bizarre objects on little shelves occupied the walls.
The man motioned for Jess to sit in the chair beneath the bulb while he fetched another from beside the table. She hesitated for a moment before sitting down. He sat in front of her, no more than two feet away and looked at Jess through his dark glasses. It seemed silent inside this room and very tense.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the man broke the silence.
"Do you know who I am?
"Jess shook her head. "Should I know?"
"It depends on who you talk to. Some people in your town know of me, others fail to notice me, despite me walking past them every day.
"It's not that important, particularly in your case. My name is Nevyn," and upon speaking his name, he removed his glasses to revel those bright blue eyes again.
Immediately the clarity returned to Jess, like a crashing wave. This time it seemed so intense that she wanted to throw up. She pushed her head between her knees and breathed deeply for a minute. When she looked back up, Nevyn was still there, smiling gently at her.
"How do you feel?"
"Sick," gasped Jess between breaths.
"Give it a moment, it'll subside"
"Who are you?"
"It is far beyond my ability to answer that question, even to myself. I bought you here because I think that I can help you. When I saw you last night beside the pool I could sense distress in you, one that has haunted you for years. What I can say is that it is part of my life to help people like yourself.
"That seemed to have answered all of Jess's questions. It took a moment for her to realise that the question was no longer there. Its endless torment had vanished. Everything was bright and clear and she could remember all that she had learned.
"What have you done to me?" she asked, half scared, half excited.
"It's an effect that I have on people. Sadly it is not permanent and once you leave my company, you will return to your so-called normal state.
"It seems to me that modern thinking has been unable to help you, instead choosing suppress your mind with chemicals that they do not fully understand. Tell me about yourself and we will see what I can do to help you.
"Jess proceeded to tell him how she was a bright young girl, at the top of her graduating class at college and full of bright prospects. She was sought after by universities and academies across the country.All this was bought to an end a few weeks after graduation. She was driving along one of the local roads at night, during a storm. In front of her, lightening struck a tree and that's as far as she remembers.
Tears were running down Jess's cheeks, it was the first time that she had been able to properly relieve the experience.
When she awoke in hospital they told her that her car had been found some distance from the road. Tire marks indicated that she had swerved to avoid the falling tree and lost control of the car. Soon after the accident the question had started and began to take over her life. She couldn't sleep without pills. She couldn't concentrate on deciding on a university to attend and basically couldn't function with out breaking down.
Doctors and psychologists came to the conclusion that this was a result of a head injury combined with post-traumatic stress disorder. Unfortunately, despite their best efforts, they were not able to cure her as yet. She was treated with a constant course of drug designed to suppress non-essential brain activity.
Sometimes the drugs would allow her a few memories, but they didn't make much sense. Sometimes, during lucid moments between doses, she would try to ride out the ever-repeating question but was never able to conquer it. This had been her life for five long years.
A sadness fell across Nevyn's with the recounting of the story.
"Such a tragedy to befall such a bright, shining star. Lift up your head girl and close your eyes.
"She did so and then felt his hand touch her face and hold the side of her head. There was a period of silence; not even the sounds from outside managed to pervade into the room. The silence was broken again when Nevyn finally removed his hand from her face.
"There is something in there that I don't quite understand. It's like a short circuit in your head. I cannot determine why it is there or why it has lasted so long, but I think that I know how you can cure it.
"He paused for a moment and Jess leant towards him, not wanting to miss what he said.
"It seems that you have been waiting for the question to stop before you think to answer it. This will not work. You must think beyond the question to determine the answer."
"But I've tried answering," replied Jess. "I've tried thinking yes and no, as loud as I can, but it never helped. The question won't go away. It'll never go away," her voice growing angry and exasperated.
Keeping calm, Nevyn replied, "Maybe it's not the answer, but the way in which you answer the question. I cannot say for certain.
"He looked out of one of the windows and seeing that it was fully dark outside, said that he should take her home now. He commented in a strange manner that their time here was over.
They rode in silence back to the house where Jess lived. She had started asking questions shortly after leaving but received the same answer, that Nevyn could answer no more questions.
When they reached the house Nevyn turned off the engine and sat there quietly. Jess was somewhat dismayed with the evening; it seemed to make things worse rather than better. She felt that it had bought reason for more thinking and, without the clarity bought about by Nevyn's presence, she had no idea how should would accomplish this.
"How will I remember this evening?" she asked with almost no hope in her voice.
Nevyn didn't reply just then but instead reached in to his coat pocket. He drew out a piece of purplish leather and handed it to her. Wrapped in the leather was a small, flat piece of stone. It was black and felt far too heavy for it's size and also seemed to be very cold. Across it's surface ran bright blue veins.
"Hold this tomorrow night and you will remember.
"Jess stood by the pool at the Lodge Gardens. It was midnight and above her a full moon lit up the sky and all her surroundings. In her hand she held a small black stone with blue veins. Clouded memories from the night before swam in front of her. In the back of her head the question was there, repeating itself over and over. It seemed angry, as if it knew that somehow Jess was trying to escape it and was close. Jess was crying, tears running down her cheeks. If she was so close, why didn't she know what to do next? Her hands gripped tight and her fingernails dug into her palms.
If you asked her later, she wouldn't have been able to tell you why she chose that moment to jump, or even why she jumped. She might guess that she could find no other way to answer the question.
She bent her legs and with as much force as she could muster, leapt over the pool. She threw her arms out wide and tensed her body.
At the moment that she started to fall towards the water, the whole world seemed to shift. Time slowed down and her decent was arrested. As she hung above the pool colours exploded from all things around her. The water shone brilliant blues, the grass exploded with greens and stars shone beams of pure light right through her. A rumbling sound began in the distance and sped towards her. It rose to a deafening roar and right at the point when her ears screamed in pain and her eyes felt seared by the light, all went black.
Coming to from a dream of angels, Jess opened her eyes. She winced at the light. She was lying in the pool of the Lodge Gardens, naked and cold. She swam to the edge of the pool and pulled herself out. The light was from the rising sun and from its low height she could tell that it was early morning. She brushed the water from her body; the sensation tingled and left her feeling nervous. Looking at her bare body she could see the bright colours of the night before fading away from her body.
In her head, everything seemed clear but incomprehensible. The question had gone, not dormant but exorcised forever. She felt free from her binds that had captured her and restrained her for the past years. All her memories remained intact.
Hurriedly she dressed and returned home, not forgetting to take the piece of stone that she found floating at the side of the pool.
For a week after waking up in the pool she didn't sleep and barely ate or drank. She called the diner where she worked and quit. She called friends and family to tell them that she was cured and to find out the news of the past years.About a month afterwards she kept an appointment with her psychologist. Like everyone else he was astounded at her recovery. Bound by doctor patient privilege, she felt this was the one person she could tell her tale to.
Afterwards he said that he could not offer an explanation for the nature of her return to health and did not even feel comfortable trying to create a theory. He did volunteer that he was disappointed that he would never know the facts about her mysterious condition. Finally he was able to tell her one thing. He told her that, to his understanding on the subject, the name Nevyn was of Celtic origin and meant nobody.
When he asked how she was feeling, she answered that she was angry that she had lost so much time. She felt that modern medicine had failed her and she wasn't even due for recompense. He merely offered that it was important for her to exercise that anger so that it caused no further problems.
 
 
Spaids
16:59 / 14.04.02
Beautiful, wonderful, inspired, heartfelt, tender, painful, gripping, mysterious, exhilirating and a whole host of superlatives I don't know yet. I've read lots and written some myself and this is without doubt a true work of art. Bravo.
 
 
Ganesh
17:19 / 14.04.02
The pool parts are quite nicely written but it seems a little truncated - as if it were meant to be the first chapter in a much larger story. Also a little bit Anne Ricey in terms of atmosphere (mysterious, charismatic stranger who may or may not be completely human reaches inside you and sorts out your head).

(Bear in mind that I'm not the best person to criticise this sort of thing: the factual inaccuracies in terms of the way psychologists/psychiatrists are portrayed [there is no drug prescribed simply 'to forget', a psychologist is not a 'doctor', she's patently not suffering from PTSD, etc., etc.] tends to irritate me to the extent that it's hard for me to view the story merely as a story. Stephen Fry's 'Tennis Balls of the Stars' was virtually unreadable for the same reasons. Probably my own pickiness rather than anything else.)

In general, it seems like a reasonably promising start but doesn't go anywhere much. Maybe needs a little fleshing out?
 
 
ONLY NICE THINGS
08:20 / 15.04.02
I think it should be longer - the whole Nevyn thing is perhaps too enigmatic, since it appears bith to Jess and to the reader as an inexplicable, utterly random event, when the existent of an omniscient narrator allows the reader to be privileged in various ways; as it is, we don't even get the cues she gets - f'r example, in what sort of a "strange way" does he say that it is time to go? Does it sound like his voice? Is it strangulated or stressed, as if he is struggling to stay with her, or fighting to get away?

Jess needs to be developed as a character as well, since as it stands once she stops being "special" she also seems to lose any real individuation. There is some nice stuff here - as Ganesh says, the poolside bits have some good, resonant phrasing - "time stretches out and seems to stretch her out with it". But the same amount of care doesn't seem to have been applied to the whole piece. Some suggestions on fairly small measures that could make it an easier and/or more involving read.

1) Tenses - you swtich between present, perfect and imperfect apparently without noticing. The final section is entirely in the past tense, even though actions which occured before it are related in the immediate present.

2) As Ganesh says, the pacing is off - the early scenes get loving attention, but it seems that by the end you seem bored, and events race through "and this happened. And this happened. Then she went to the doctor. And he said this. And she said that".

3) Misuse of verbs - both the wrong word - "to properly relieve the experience", "exercise that anger" - and the wrong form - "a small brown bottle contain pills", "instead choosing suppress your mind with chemicals" show disrespect for the reader and yourself. If you don't have enough interest in your work to read it, why should anyone else?

4) Dialogue - try saying "Have no fear Jess, I will not harm you. I will not touch you unless you ask me to. You are a beautiful woman but it would burn my heart to take advantage of you in that way" to yourself. Or "It is far beyond my ability to answer that question, even to myself. I bought you here because I think that I can help you. When I saw you last night beside the pool I could sense distress in you, one that has haunted you for years. What I can say is that it is part of my life to help people like yourself".

Unless you are trying to communicate that English is not Nevyn's first language, people just do not talk like that, even if they are being formal.

5)Nouns - "She brushed the water from her body; the sensation tingled and left her feeling nervous. Looking at her bare body she could see the bright colours of the night before fading away from her body." If you are using the same word three times in two sentences and it isn't a point of style, find a way not to.

6) Compositionally, this is a "Mary Sue" - a term given to a form of slash writing where a "favourite character", often an avatar of the writer hirself, appears and solves all the problems facing the existing characters. Once the Mary Sue has left the story engagement with the text is quickly lost. So, Jess exists as a set of problems which Nevyn appears and enigmatically provides the vital clue to. Once he has played his part, the rest of Jess' progress unspools at breakneck speed, and concludes suddenly pretty much in the middle of a scene - why stop just as her psychologist is saying something in itself pretty undramatic?

7) Credibility. Within the story structure, there is nothing suspension-of-disbelief-inducing about a mysterious stranger with the power to move through people's minds. But when Jess' psychologist just happens to know the origin of that mysterious stranger's name, it feels like a brick being dropped. Also, *is* Nevyn a celtic word for "nobody"? There's a Middle English word, nevyn, which I think means pearl, and there's a Gaelic/Irish name Nevin/Niven (amazing what you learn when you have huge crush on a twinkle-toed winger), which is derived from Naomh, "saint". It may seem pedantic, but if her psychologist is wrong/misleading her there should be a narrrative reason why, and if the fact is wrong then this will be another dropped brick with a certain part of any potential audience...
 
  
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