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First chapter of a psychedelic/trippy-themed scifi. Tear it apart please.

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Old 07-26-2011, 01:32 PM
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Default First chapter of a psychedelic/trippy-themed scifi. Tear it apart please.


Ok so before I paste this, lemme just preface it by saying, if you have anything against drugs or altered states of consciousness, then you're just better off not reading this. Unless you truly think you can remain objective, then I guess go ahead, but I just don't see how that would be possible - you would probably hate this if you hate drugs. This story deals specifically with psychedelics/entheogens. It doesn't advocate the usage of hard drugs like cocaine, heroin, etc. So that is an important distinction to keep in mind.

Anyway, having said that, this is the opening that I just wrote. And I want it torn apart! I'm sensitive but fuck it, I need to be able to take it. Don't be unnecessarily rude, but be blunt. Go for it.

Here goes:

---

My secret was that I had taken them all for myself. Every last one of those blue gel pills was secured in the small tin can, rattling in my backpack as I ran through the trails. He would notice, I was sure, but till then, who cared? I had gotten more. I had the power, now, to cross the threshold.

I found a tree with a large base, soft and plentiful grass inviting me to sit on it. I sank in the ground, breathing heavily, eyes glued to the sky. Would he find me here? And if he did, so what? I would be tripping by then.

I shook the black bag underneath me and heard the pills rattling around in the can, a psychedelic Macarena. My heart skipped a beat – it’s that craving, you know. The world seemed to fragment for a moment, the tiniest shift that I could detect with my entheogenic memory. That other world, other presence was vibrating underneath me, and I wanted to revisit it.

I swallowed a pill. Then another. Now, if I swallowed three, I would have exceeded my personal maximum dosage. These were dense capsules, so an extra was no light addendum. But I remembered the fading golden trail last time, the absolute inability to muster any more cosmic energy to further my wide-eyed tripping ghost into the realm of understanding, of a message, of meaning. They wanted to show me something. I was not properly equipped. Now I was.

I swallowed the last pill. That’s it, I thought. It’s diffused in my system. A bird chirped. The sun still blared. Nothing had changed, yet. Knowing I had the key inside me though, it felt good. Real good. I was like a walking bomb, timed to erupt into a series of magical and life-altering labyrinths. Of course, what any passerby would see would be a dazed young girl with long auburn hair, droopy brown eyes, bemused and fascinated by each natural object existing in front of her. I would be an unintelligible chest of secrets.

Now I had to deal with a small stretch of anxiously drawn out time. I had to hope the nervousness of getting caught dissipated with the rising high. Otherwise that would be a cocktail for a panicked disaster. Those were the sorts of risks I was willing to take in order to get to the other world.

I lied on my back and stared up at the sky, which was always beautiful to me between the maze of bark and leaves. I squinted, letting my vision blur into a kaleidoscopic mess of blue, green, and golden beams. My limbs twitched, and the familiar tickle began to stir in my belly. But it was too soon; my imagination was getting ahead of me.

I hopped up, and stretched my limbs to disseminate the nervous tension. I jogged in place, did jumping jacks, punched the air lightly a few times. I hated this part, the waiting. I almost wished he would show up and give me enough distraction before the high set in. I was sure that in that half hour, I could appeal to his sympathies, promise him the money, and explain just how dire my situation was. I’d tell him how I saw the divine threshold, how alien deities embraced each surface of my exposed and quivering soul matter – how I saw my the topography of my bodies thermal activity, glowing magnificently – how I was gilded in cosmic benedictions, shedding skin endlessly until I was but a thread of gossamer string, a piece of threadwork in the quilted universal enigma. And how I was so close to receiving a message that would transmute seamlessly through the dimensions, but lacked the chemical impetus, that extra secret coding that transferred my brain waves from the mundane to the insane.

I imagined his face, smirking despite his anger. He would scoff at my “psycho babble,” and I could hear it already: Knock it off with that shit, kid, it takes a lot more that just popping a few pills to get any real understanding. But he was wrong – it didn’t. He was hanging on to some artificial concepts of ethics and work: the idea that true meaning or understanding could only come from hard work, and nothing meaningful could come from something easy. But I found it hard to believe that the objective reality of things was concerned with making a judgment call on individual self-discipline – these concepts were merely of our own making to make sense of our own lives, and while they did prove useful in some contexts, they weren’t required for others.

And besides, tripping was not easy. Many succumbed to fear, and many could not manage to give in to the drug, to treat it like an entity rather than a subordinate chemical that they had power over. Others used it as an escape, but let their nihilistic preconceptions deter them from any real unification with the drug, like Jed. Jed had the kind of steel cynicism that managed to keep even a sliver of a wall up in the midst of a euphoric MDMA-induced trance. Cuddle piles, unity, peace and love, sure, but remember: we’re just enjoying a drug. Well I took the drug as more than that, as another level of experience, another cognitive lens, interchangeable with my default setting, which was no more real than any other ones I could buy.

Of course, there were times were I detached myself from my core, let a strand of rationality disengage and hover over me for a second, saying: What a fucking nutter! Get a job, do something useful, ya bum. I suppose this was like my second parent. Second, because I only had one parent, or perhaps half a parent, if you want to look at it that way. My father died in a motorcycle accident before I was born, and my mother was a scientist, loving but definitely existing on the more autistic end of the spectrum. I think my mental parent was harder on me than she was.

There was a tingling in the base of my spine. My face flushed, and my mouth spread into a wide, uncontrolled grin. I envisioned the pill’s cerulean color, the magnitude of its depth like the ocean, overcoming my body, whose shell was equally nominal compared to the massive intelligent enterprise underneath. I walk, watching my knee high black boots, conceptualizing the intricate lacing that weaved in and out through the eyelets: so simple, and so perfect. Small mathematical precisions were everywhere. A wave rolled smoothly up and down my body. I reached into my bag and pulled out my studio headphones. They fit snugly over my ears, and I clicked the power button on the side of the right phone, and held it down.

“Vibes of paradise,” I sang. The headphones whirred for a few moments, and then the lush bass reverberated through my head, amplifying the wave. The drums set in, and that was all I needed to feel on top of the world: a good beat, sunlight, and sensory galvanization. If Jed were to show up, I would just smile and spread my arms, casting my glow on him, and then he’d have to understand. Things would be okay.

The trees seemed to part as I strolled through them. The sun was iridescent; it seemed to be laughing, congenially, as if to say, you never knew I looked like this? But I did know, I had seen it before, and it was like reentering a dream world, realizing that yes, things have appeared this way once before. The sensation of flying while one’s feet are firmly planted on the ground: this is a sure sign of coming up. You begin to feel lust, but you realize that lust is much more than a base desire. Lust is transcendental. Lust is a tremulous shiver that binds you to the heavens.

About an hour into the trip, the peak was fully revved, stable, not going anywhere anytime soon. I had reached maximum potential, maximum speed – anything could happen now. I could keep my eyes open and transform the world around me, or I could close my eyes and escape my body; the choice was mine to make. I decided to explore the latter, in hopes of returning to the same place I had been before. I worried that this was only a theoretical possibility, but I tried to ignore the doubt. Doubt becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy when tripping in a controlled environment, but out here in the woods, I had to have my wits about me, while at the same time, paradoxically control my ability to lose all control. I had to give in to the drug with the trust that my latent ego would activate itself immediately if need be.

I found a hidden path, one with a decent amount of undergrowth. This would be fine. I lied back, and commenced the spiral as soon as I shut my eyes.

Plummet upwards, that’s right, up is down and falling is flying and soaring is diving and crying is laughing and seeing is believing. The clouds part but they’re worlds apart, and I can see it all because my scope of vision has been stretched like an elastic band, infinitely tensing itself, vibrating with the intensity of a rapidly oscillating sine wave. Geometric patterns and textured coils traverse the crossways of my optical horizon, and a chorus begins in my head, gauzy butterfly, mellifluous stream of syrupy powder, the militant bass line, marching around and around my universe, merging and purging to draw the infinite ribbons, the color of which no one knows the name of. Petals bloom and duplicate like butterflies, psychedelic platitudes hold the deepest wells of meaning, and valleys shed the sun-burnt snow to show the-


Hello.




You came prepared.


Y-you…


Yes. I am that which you conceive of. You’ve succeeded in your mission.


I didn’t realize it would be so easy…


It won’t be. You will be granted something higher than you can imagine.


Why me?


You chose it.


Oh…


Open your eyes.


I opened my eyes as instructed.

Create.


I raised my finger to the sky, and traced a circle. There was a faint glimmer, and then nothing. I frowned. Raising my finger again, I pictured, in my mind’s eye, a deep blue, like indigo. My finger felt as though it was bleeding all of a sudden, but my body was not shaken at all. From my finger, which slowly delineated a long loop, came an indigo thread of vibrant string, echoing my shaky motion. It stayed there, just as I had placed it, beaming at me. I lowered my hand slowly, still gaping at what I had just drawn. It stared back at me, almost humming with a sweet frequency.

“Oh my god,” I said. My words felt prophetic. The bass taunted me in my peripheral. A momentous feeling surged through my right arm. I lifted it, clenched my hand into a tight fist, and slid it through the purple ring. I lowered my arm, slowly, watching the indigo ring, eyes locked with the viscous cosmic paint, until it was directly in line with me.

I sat up slowly. My bulging eyes did not escape the circle. I brought my left thumb and forefinger to it, and gave it a soft squeeze. It gave in to the pressure of my fingers, but as soon as I let go, it snapped back into a perfect, untouched state, sending light waves ripple through it on either side. I slid it up my arm, feeling a shiver ebb through my body as it fit snugly to my skin.

“Ay!” The voice barely cut through the music, but head spun around instantly. I could make out Jed’s spiky hair wobbling over the branches.

“Crap,” I muttered, pulling my headphones off my ears. But the euphoria in my chest was still there. I smiled. Good drug. Brave drug. I laughed inwardly. I stood up and rubbed my eyes in an effort to look nonchalant.

“Hiiiiii,” I drawled. He emerged from in between two large bushes as I said this. His dorky Hawaiian-print button-up matched with khakis and hiking boots, all this underneath a face twisted in parental frustration, silver rings shining brilliantly in his septum and eyebrow, made my knees give out beneath me. I was doubled over in laughter.

“You’re a fuck, you know that?” he said. He walked towards me and I nimbly rolled away and sprang up, maneuvering my body into a myriad of ridiculous made-up ninja positions.

“Do not approach me. I will end you.” I gave him my most sinister grin, and then erupted once again in laughter. I couldn’t help it.

“You keep taking too much of this shit. It’s not about the money, you know that, you’re fucking frying your brain. Will you lay off it a bit?” I imagined his words bouncing off my ears like they were trampolines, jumping in a frenzy, never entering my head.

“Oh, please, oh please. Not now Jed. I’m too deep into this to give a shit right now. Don’t be a mood killer. Please,” I begged. I wrapped my arms around him tightly and did my best monkey impression. I felt him loosen up beneath me.

“Ok little monkey. Ok. Just get off of me, it’s hot as fuck.” I released my grip and let out a howl aimed for the heavens. Would it reach them? I pondered my voice, traveling up high, like digital data soaring through the air, reaching some angelic sentinel leaning back lazily against a golden gate.

“How much did you take?” he asked, lying on the ground next to where I had collapsed.

I held up three fingers.

“Forehead, meet palm,” I said, as he did just that.

“Dammit Rory, three? This shit is potent as FUCK. You’re too coherent to have taken three. You trip hasn’t been any different?”

Like a tsunami, it hit me. How could I have forgotten? Incredible. Just five minutes ago.

“Yes. Yes!” I scrambled upright quickly. “Something incredible happened.” His face was not matching my enthusiasm.

“No no no no,” I said, pummeling my fists into the ground. “Listen! Take me seriously! This is serious news! Seriousness!”

“Till you say it, I’m not taking you seriously. Go.” Jed stared at me unflinchingly, waiting.

“Well, so… I was having… my mind was going crazy, ya know. Words, thoughts, jumbly mumbo. Fun stuff. Um and then, and then…. Oh yeah! This voice! It, like, interrupted me! I know that’s not out of the ordinary, hallucinating voices, but this voice was like no other, Jed, I’m telling you. And it like… told me that I was prepared… I succeeded? Um… fuck…” I tapped my forehead violently with my finger. I caught his gaze, which was a little too patient, too composed. I had to get to the point, quickly.

“And then, I fucking, I drew this…. This thing in the air. With my finger! This circle! It was like, I was painting with my finger! Painting man, I was creating shit out of thin air. And I wore it like a bracelet and everything!” When I realized this was the end of the story, it dawned on me how utterly ridiculous it was. Pure psychedelic bullshit. Jed should be laughing right about now.

But Jed wasn’t laughing. He was staring at me with a serious look on his face. “Rory,” he said. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Uh, no? Yeah, that’s a great make-believe story, I created a fucking imaginary bracelet. I’m being dumb and I know it. Taking hallucinations too seriously.” I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself, like I always do when I’m feeling stupid or silly.
Under my left hand, I felt something warm and smooth. I looked down at my upper arm. There was the purple bracelet, shining magnificently, wondrously.

“You see that?” I asked him.

“Uh-huh,” he said, his voice still not showing any sort of emotion. “Now, Rory, I can usually read you like a book, and it doesn’t seem like you’re lying, but fuck, this is a little too crazy. You did not just draw that bracelet with your finger, did you? Tell me you bought it at some shitty jewelry stand off 9th avenue.”

I shook my head sincerely. “Honest,” I said softly. “I made it. Like the voice told me to. I just can’t believe you see it. You sure you’re not on something…?” I was beginning to feel skeptical of everything, like Jed. He held his hand up.

“I’m not. I had a shot or two of scotch. I’m sober, Ror.”

I widened my eyes, and giddiness bubbled in my chest. I felt my own natural euphoria combine with the drug’s manic presence.

“Jed! Jed. This is insane.” I grabbed his hand. I saw him trying to fight off a smile. He was chewing his lip forcefully, staring into this distance.

“Let’s just wait till you’re sober and then we’ll talk about it,” he finally said.

“Oh that’s right. I’m not sober. Hah!” I suddenly became aware of the music beating away mercilessly just underneath my chin. I felt the drug more than ever in that instant. Its powerful waves of liberation just a daydream away tempted me with every heartbeat.

“I shall retreat back to trip world. I’ll see you in a bit, captain.” I crossed my eyes, stuck out my tongue, and saluted him. Jed pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, still chewing his lower lip like a fiend.

“I’ll be waiting here kid. Have fun.”

I put the headphones back on, sank back into the ground, and let the music overwhelm me while I closed my eyes and drifted into incomprehensible, inscrutable, beautiful worlds.

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Last edited by medusaspath; 07-26-2011 at 01:35 PM..
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Old 07-27-2011, 08:59 AM
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Excellent. On many levels. Flawless. Thanks for posting.
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Old 07-27-2011, 10:06 AM
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Originally Posted by J. Newman View Post
Excellent. On many levels. Flawless. Thanks for posting.
o_o thank you. I doubt it's flawless, but I'm glad it's leaning in the right direction. :P
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Old 07-28-2011, 08:40 AM
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It is interesting to say the least. I read it yesterday but didn't have a chance to comment on it. I don't recall having any issues with the way it was written--which is very well. There may have been some punctuation errors but I can't find it today. (Late night at work and little sleep do not help one's critiquing abilities.)

Not helpful in the critique department, I know, but wanted to tell you I thought it was a good piece.
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Old 07-28-2011, 08:48 AM
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Sorry, but It's not flawless (just the usual grammar, spelling, punctuation etc). Written works rarely are, though.

The content and accuracy of the content is outstanding...almost too real to believe that it is fiction not based on reality. You don't have to answer this, but is it you or someone close to you?

The work is absorbing.

I note that J Newman has nominated it in the Members' Choice section; if he or she hadn't, I would have.

It's probably the most disturbing piece of work I've seen on this forum. And that, you should take as a compliment.

eez.
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Old 07-28-2011, 08:55 AM
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Being the self-contained narcissist that I am, I thought my "The Information" was disturbing.
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Old 07-28-2011, 09:13 AM
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Good stuff. Very visual and the author certainly has a flair for description. I felt like I was tripping by the time I finished reading the excerpt. I can't wait to read more about Rory and Jed.
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Old 07-28-2011, 01:02 PM
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First of all, thank you everyone for responding. I try not to be too open about my literary insecurities because I feel like it more often than not comes off as feigned modesty, and I hate that, but I my confidence with my writing is... precarious to say the least. My significant other is very supportive of my work, and I trust him completely, but there's something very satisfying about getting good critique from complete strangers who have have no personal investment in your feelings. So thank you! I am very motivated to continue this piece, and that is always a good thing.

Onwardssss.

Donnaf - Thank you, I'm glad you liked it.

Eez - Don't apologize for saying it's not flawless - I definitely am not looking to write a flawless piece. I'm sure you could get into a whole philosophical debate on whether that is even the goal of a writer, no? But anyway, I am glad you found it absorbing. And I'm grateful for the nomination, that's very cool. I'm glad my weird mind ramblings are actually liked by others, it's reassuring. And that's interesting that you find it disturbing - I definitely wasn't going for that because I don't think I have the potential to actually disturb people, but I do take it as a compliment, so thanks.

Why-so-serious: I'll have to check that out then, I like disturbing works.

JSchwartzkopf - Yah, I definitely have a flair for description. Maybe too much. I guess that's what happens when you're a self-proclaimed Nabokovite. :P

Anyway, thanks again people. I'm waiting for someone to come around be like "This is horrible, wtf." But again, I'm really happy to know that I'm not just a psycho kook writing awful inanities. Or maybe I am and you're all crazy too. Whatever.

I'll continue this piece and perhaps post it as a new thread. I also have a completed story that I think may need further editing (even though I already submitted it somewhere, we'll see what happens with that). It's a weird surreal piece based on Beethoven - if that sounds appealing to anyone, let me know. It might be too weird of a piece for anyone who doesn't care at all about Beethoven.

Alright. Shutting up now.
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Old 07-28-2011, 01:19 PM
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Oh, I forgot to answer your question, Eez. Whenever I write I do imbue it with elements of my own personal life, so there are parts of these characters that reflect me and my boyfriend, but they're not necessarily based off of us. Writing based on my own quirkiness and my various dynamics with people I know does tend to produce the most genuine dialogue and interaction though, so yes, I guess you could say it's kind of based off my life. But I wasn't going for anything particularly autobiographical. These characters are definitely their own people.

Oh and, suffice it to say, while I clearly have experience with drugs, I've never created a tangible item with my mind alone. That would RULE though. Haha. Even if it's just a piece of jewelry.
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Old 08-02-2011, 05:33 AM
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Yes of course there is no such thing as flawless in the subjective (subjective... is that the word we who submit all know and hate) world of writing and reading.

But for the present moment it seems just that. Must be the mushrooms. That's why I nominated it. The muushrooms. Blew my mind.

But really,, good luck with this one and look forward to reading the next installment - if there is one.
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Old 08-02-2011, 03:21 PM
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Originally Posted by J. Newman View Post
Yes of course there is no such thing as flawless in the subjective (subjective... is that the word we who submit all know and hate) world of writing and reading.

But for the present moment it seems just that. Must be the mushrooms. That's why I nominated it. The muushrooms. Blew my mind.

But really,, good luck with this one and look forward to reading the next installment - if there is one.
There will be, and thank you so much.
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Old 08-02-2011, 05:52 PM
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Very good! Liked it a lot.

Plummet upwards, that’s right, up is down and falling is flying and soaring is diving and crying is laughing and seeing is believing. The clouds part but they’re worlds apart, and I can see it all because my scope of vision has been stretched like an elastic band, infinitely tensing itself, vibrating with the intensity of a rapidly oscillating sine wave. Geometric patterns and textured coils traverse the crossways of my optical horizon, and a chorus begins in my head, gauzy butterfly, mellifluous stream of syrupy powder, the militant bass line, marching around and around my universe, merging and purging to draw the infinite ribbons, the color of which no one knows the name of. Petals bloom and duplicate like butterflies, psychedelic platitudes hold the deepest wells of meaning, and valleys shed the sun-burnt snow to show the-
YES. loved this part.
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Old 08-02-2011, 05:56 PM
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<-- Eager for Chapter 2 (the first time i've ever said that about a forum posted work)
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Old 08-02-2011, 07:31 PM
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Originally Posted by 0rganic View Post
<-- Eager for Chapter 2 (the first time i've ever said that about a forum posted work)
Thanks! The positive feedback is very motivating; I fear I would have abandoned the piece if left to my own self-deprecating thoughts.

I started writing more but it feels lackluster in comparison. I think it's because it's more dialogue/action heavy with less introspection (and I feel like I'm better with the latter), so I think it's drier, but I don't know... we'll see.

It also doesn't help when I don't know exactly where the story is going so it feels like I'm just playing around with the characters rather than writing with a focused, clear aim. Ah well... I have to shed this feeling that I'm carving things in stone. :P

Anyway, thanks again. I will hopefully have a second chapter up soon.
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Old 08-02-2011, 08:04 PM
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I'm a big fan of nonlinear narratives, and yours has been great so far in that sense.
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Old 08-02-2011, 08:47 PM
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Thank you. I suppose I'll need to find away to balance the linear/non-linear narratives so that they blend seamlessly and create a coherent story altogether. I'm not exactly sure how to propel a whole novel forward with nonlinear narrative alone, or if I should take that approach and see where it takes me. It will be a trial and error process, for sure. I just want to do the story justice. I write a lot in the sense that I have a multitude of unfinished, fragmented pieces. I'm not experienced with large bodies of work... it's daunting, but I'm trying.
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Old 08-04-2011, 09:35 AM
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Originally Posted by medusaspath View Post
Thank you. I suppose I'll need to find away to balance the linear/non-linear narratives so that they blend seamlessly and create a coherent story altogether. I'm not exactly sure how to propel a whole novel forward with nonlinear narrative alone, or if I should take that approach and see where it takes me. It will be a trial and error process, for sure. I just want to do the story justice. I write a lot in the sense that I have a multitude of unfinished, fragmented pieces. I'm not experienced with large bodies of work... it's daunting, but I'm trying.
Just give yourself a bad guy and a good guy and give them something to fight over.
Like a patch of mushrooms.

The rest writes itself!

Good luck!
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Old 08-05-2011, 01:55 PM
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Originally Posted by J. Newman View Post
Just give yourself a bad guy and a good guy and give them something to fight over.
Like a patch of mushrooms.

The rest writes itself!

Good luck!
haha, well, I'm normally not a fan of the straight up good/bad dichotomy, but a fight over a mushroom patch could be amusing.

I'll just have to think of something and dive in headfirst.

Thanks!
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Old 08-06-2011, 04:30 AM
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I really liked this as well, and an interesting exploration of what happens to someone who regularly trips. The only thing that jarred with me was Jed's ready acceptance of the bracelet. I was instantly taken out of the story by his lack of sceptiscim. Also for some reason your protagonist seemed more male than female to me. Even after you describe her.

But great stuff, I enjoyed the read!

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Old 08-06-2011, 09:35 AM
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Originally Posted by thisangel View Post
I really liked this as well, and an interesting exploration of what happens to someone who regularly trips. The only thing that jarred with me was Jed's ready acceptance of the bracelet. I was instantly taken out of the story by his lack of sceptiscim. Also for some reason your protagonist seemed more male than female to me. Even after you describe her.

But great stuff, I enjoyed the read!

Interesting about the protagonist seeming more male than female, could you elaborate on that a bit? I'm fascinated by gender representation and that sort of thing, so I'm really really curious. This is the kind of thing I think about a lot so I love that you said that. :P

And thanks for the feedback. I carefully considered Jed's reaction too, and I may either alter it in this passage, or it will be more fleshed out/understandable in the next chapter. He is taken aback, but he hasn't completely accepted it yet.
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Old 08-08-2011, 03:43 AM
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Hiya, Medusa -

I'll try and elaborate - but honestly it was just more of a "vibe" than anything else. Which is funny, really - as people posted the same thing about my MC when I first started posting here! Maybe it's simply that your MC has traits considered "male"...she is a bit more aggressive and risk taking than I think women are seen to be, yet she's not "man" like...I thought she was a boy.

Anyway, great stuff, looking forward to more!

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Old 08-09-2011, 10:37 AM
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This is horrible. WTF? Totally kidding - I really enjoyed it. It'd dripping with tripping realism. I need to read it again though...

----

"Anyway, thanks again people. I'm waiting for someone to come around be like "This is horrible, wtf." But again, I'm really happy to know that I'm not just a psycho kook writing awful inanities. Or maybe I am and you're all crazy too. Whatever. "
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Old 08-09-2011, 12:21 PM
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The writing's not bad, but maybe the story's not for me. I thought the narrator was a little tiresome, I doubt I would like her if I knew her in reality. A lot of the descriptions made me roll my eyes. Maybe it sounds good if you're high, but it reminded me of a hippie passing out nonsensical pamphlets.

But I remembered the fading golden trail last time, the absolute inability to muster any more cosmic energy to further my wide-eyed tripping ghost into the realm of understanding, of a message, of meaning.
Can anyone say "cosmic energy" with a straight face?

Lust is transcendental. Lust is a tremulous shiver that binds you to the heavens.
These lines are made more nonsensical by your confusion of "transcendental" (a term from mathematics) with "transcendent".

Plummet upwards, that’s right, up is down and falling is flying and soaring is diving and crying is laughing and seeing is believing.
"You don't understand, man, it's all one!"
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Old 08-09-2011, 01:03 PM
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Hilee - It's cool, I know themes like this definitely aren't for everyone. A lot of what she's describing is based off of what I've actually experienced (actually basically all of it) so it's not just trippy sounding shit I pulled out of my ass. So that's why I could say "cosmic energy" with a straight face.

Thank you thank you thank you for pointing that out about the word transcendental - did NOT know it was a math term. Let's just say the left side of my brain is a rather desolate domain.

I'm personally really into entheogens and psychedelics, not because I just like to get high (I do - let's not kid ourselves, they all did) but I enjoy it in a serious sense too. That might make people roll their eyes and I get it, it's a fringe topic in the world of scholarly writing and academia, but I've read much of Terence McKenna, Aldous Huxley, Diana Reed Slattery, and other such authors, and so I'm definitely influenced by that approach to psychedelics. It's unfortunate that the hippie stigma ruins what is really a deep, fascinating facet of human experience, but... what can you do.

I can't convince everyone of the meaning of these experiences - it's something very personal and certainly not universal.

Thank you anyway though.

You know, it's funny, you would probably like the writing better in the later chapters I've written. It's much more dialogue/action based and less uh, "tiresome," as you put it. And I -hate- those chapters. I'm all about introspection and lush description. I am very insecure when it comes to my less dense writing. :/ But it would probably give you a sigh of relief so actually, in an odd way, you've made me feel a bit better about my writing that you haven't even read, haha.

Also, the psychedelic experience lends itself to over-the-top description. You have to at least admit I wouldn't be doing the experience justice if I didn't go all out, hehe. I needed to make it true to the experience of tripping, and not that pared down, intellectual extrapolation of the more meaningful parts of a trip after it is over.

thisangel - That's what I thought. =P I'm prone to falling into the same traps myself, but I want to create female characters that subvert those stereotypes, without falling into the trap of creating an unreal character that is clearly written with that sole purpose in mind... if that makes any sense. I just want her to be real.

Thanks. :P
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Old 08-09-2011, 02:38 PM
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Well Miss Medusa, I'll definitely keep reading, if only because you seem like a lot of fun.
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Old 08-10-2011, 08:17 AM
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Haha, thank you. :P
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Old 08-10-2011, 08:18 AM
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Oh and thank you SheriLeigh! Your teeny comment was sandwiched in between larger ones. o_o
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