Jumping In

Well it's been more than a week now since my last post (uni assessments are coming
thick and fast at the moment) so I figure I should probably put something up so that Oblogotory doesn't end up disappearing before it gets off the ground.

So here we go. Blog post no. 3.

I've gotten a bit of feedback on Home since I put it up (not on the site as yet which at time of posting should be obvious) and the main issue that came up was the argument that takes place on the on the train. In short: too much exposition, not enough justification... It's a fair point and it is something that I wrestled with while I was writing the story.

In the end it was something I left in because of the word limit, simply because I didn't know how to convey the history that I wanted to convey without condensing it like I did.

Still it can be said that regardless of word limits the info dump is something I end up relying on a little too often(depending of course on what it is that I'm writing). In particular one of the major stories that I've been working on in the last little while (I'll leave out the plot details as I hope to put parts of it up in the future) uses the info dump pretty heavily in the opening pages. I have tried to justify it and it does seem to come across as interesting (at least to me) but at the same time it still ends up feeling a bit clumsy...

In the end I guess I do it because it’s easy. Once the story is all worked out in your head it the whole setting the scene part can seem rather tedious when all you want to do is get down to writing the story itself.
So lesson learnt really. Need to be more patient.

Anyway, this is a writing blog so I should probably couple my self examination with an actual story... Again this is something that I wrote before I started blogging (and indeed is quite a bit older than Home) as I have not had time to write anything new recently (wish that I did – so many ideas!).



In Transit

He closes his eyes and slowly slumps backwards, the brief prick of pain already distant and forgotten. One... He begins to count the seconds as they tick by. Two... He tells himself in a second it will all be okay. Three... A familiar warmth begins to creep into him. Four... It surrounds him, fills him. Five... His heart skips a beat. Six...

Time seems to slow to a crawl. Stops. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t breathe.

Seven... Sparks bloom in darkness.

Eight... Rise up above him. Nine... The light envelopes him. Smothers him. He sinks in it but he doesn’t fight. He wants to drown. Forever and ever.

Time passes. An imaginary sky churns overhead a make-believe sea. He submerges himself in both and everything blurs. Fire dances merrily between fingertips, kind and comforting, forgetting to burn. Each breath fills his lungs with molten gold. It gets into his blood. His veins pulse. His blood sings.

It keeps him alive.

From above he can hear a voice calling. A hand touches someone’s face. His? He tries to raise a hand to brush it away. Nothing happens. Somewhere a part of him starts to feel concern, to panic, but the warmth washes everything away and very soon he forgets.

By the time he notices them again the voices have become two instead of one. He tries to listen to them, but he does not hear. They grow in urgency and he feels another prick of pain, rougher than the first. Out of habit he tries to count away the seconds, but it hits him before he can muster the literate part of his mind. A wall of cold and pain. It pushes past the dizzying warm, and takes him for its own, ripping him from himself. He can feel his blood slowing to a trickle. Solidifying. Slowly it becomes as ice and he can feel his heart starting to flutter in his chest. In an instant he loses control.

Muscles spasm, heaving and contracting. He tries to breathe and finds his bones burning with a cold fire. A pressure builds behind his eyes. Why isn’t he breathing!? Someone wails as a stinging slap descends upon his cheek and he finally gulps down air. His eyes snap open to darkness, the world reduced to tiny pinpricks of light. Something moves in the distance. The world seems so very far away. The voices are there again, somehow clearer with the added distance. “Stay here son. Here with us. Keep your eyes on me. Stay with...”
The light begins to fade and the voices wash away. He begins to wonder if they are talking to him.

Cold metal punches him in the chest.

The wail becomes a sob. “Again” A second blow falls. His ears pop. “Again!!” Somewhere something beeps with a monotonous tone.
He comes awake with a jolt, gasping and spluttering in the dark. For a moment all he can do is sit there. His head feels two sizes too small. He reaches up to cradle it, only to find a piece of material covering his eyes. He pulls at with clumsy hands. A band of elastic snaps between his fingers and the material falls away.

The light is everywhere. It stabs at his eyes. A mess of colour sits before him. He shakes his head. A green curtain hangs in a window to his right. An empty chair sits to his left and there is a small aisle to the left of that, with more empty seats lining the other side. He reels forward as everything shakes again, taking his breath away. From up ahead he can hear the tinny buzz of an old radio. He rips open the curtain and is greeted by an empty desert. Red sand and blue sky slide past the glass. As far as the eye can see. He pulls back the curtain and rises to his feet, bracing himself on either side. Several passengers occupy seats further towards the front. All facing forward, all silent. They ignore him as he makes his way down the aisle. The radio buzzes in his ears.

As he reaches the driver’s seat he peers out the front windscreen. A single straight line of black road, unbroken and infinite, stretches out before him. Running from beneath his feet to horizon with two identical swathes of sand on either side. He turns towards the driver, a million questions burning in his brain.

A pudgy hand reaches out before he can speak, tapping at a sign above. Please stay seated while in transit.

“But...”

The driver taps again. “But why!? Where the fuck am I !!?” The driver just sits there and the other passengers do the same. He waves a hand in front of the drivers face. Nothing. No one does anything. He sighs and makes his way back to his seat.

Another jolt wakes him. His eyes snap open in shock and confusion. When had he fallen asleep? Absently he looks out the window again. The sky is gray and rain now pelts soundlessly against the glass. He realises for the first time how thirsty he is, but he knows the water is out of reach. Outside he watches as it leaches into the sand like a stain. Mixed together they look like blood. His stomach churns and he tastes bile. Suddenly he’s no longer quite as thirsty as he first thought. A white smudge appears in the distance and he watches, hypnotised, as it slowly grows in size. He remembers a sign in a supermarket parking lot. Its neon light burns in the sky as it approaches. Three figures detach themselves from the glow. A man, a woman and a child. The man hits the woman. The child looks away, towards him, and he recognises his own face. Then in a single moment the whole scene is swept away. He chokes back frustration, reaching toward the glass. The other passengers look on, silent and still. He feels sick. Another smudge appears on the horizon. Darker this time. He tries to look away but finds himself frozen. A single figure running in the rain. There then gone. Large buildings are the next thing to detach from the haze. Lecture halls. Classrooms. All familiar. Hundreds of figures go about their business, moving from building to building. His eyes seek out just one, sitting at a bus stop, apart from the others, head buried between his hands. The figure looks up in recognition as the image boils away. Next he sees himself standing alone, separated from the group so dominated by the large figure from before. He wants to cry but he feels he has no right. Again he watches himself running in the rain. Past the parking lot. Past the tall buildings.

Finally his figure comes to rest in the middle a street somewhere and immediately lies down and goes to sleep.

Someone holds something out to him to take; it glows so bright that it burns a hole in the world. He reaches for it longingly but just like the others the image quickly fades. Everything lurches forward again and for a second all colour disappears. He wants to be sick. That old radio starts up again, playing that same single note song.

He blacks out.

Everything is wrong. The floor shakes and buckles and the air is filled with the discontented whine of the engine, as if it is stuck in the wrong gear. He stumbles from his seat and almost falls to the ground. The aisle twists and turns in front of him. The windows have gone empty and black. The wall of cold returns rolls over
him, consuming everything. He flinches as icy hands brush under his clothes. Painstakingly he starts moving towards the front.

The passengers sit there like statues. The driver moves once more to tap the sign. He reaches up and pulls the thing down, flinging it to the side. The whine builds, to almost more than he can bear. The driver taps at the empty air. A pressure builds inside him. A need so strong he feels like he must surely burst. He takes one last look at the driver and then grabs onto the oversized steering wheel and heaves with everything he has left.

The world buckles and spins, turns upside down and inside out. Another jolt catches him in the chest and then there is a searing pain as if someone has put a hole in his heart. Finally the other passengers turn to look at him. Surprise glints in their eyes. His body goes limp.

Somewhere the radio breaks and the world shatters into a million pieces.







P.S. I know next to nothing about drugs or about addiction - at the time that I wrote this I was reading a blog written by a British herion addict - something which I found both rather confronting at times but also extremely moving.

Check it out if you're so inclined - http://gledwood.tripod.com/blog/ (this is part 1 of 2 as there is another blog on Blogger.com - but still I would recommend you read it from the start)


M