![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hmpfSince this has been public from the moment of its birth, I've decided to make the next step public, too. So, here it is: Sam bitter!fic, after the first round of rewriting. Will probably only be of interest to people who are interested in the MacSlow writing process. ;-)
In some cases there may be Verschlimmbesserungen. (Now there's a word for the 'German is better than English is better than German' page...)
And this thing still has no title except for the oblique joke, stolen from Max Goldt, of "Auf dem Sprung in die Tiefe verhungern" ("Starving on the jump down", more or less.)
Anyway, here goes:
***
And then it's suddenly very simple:
his feet slapping on concrete, the last step,
the last,
pushing off with all his power,
and there's only the great blue,
and gravity,
and it's all right,
no space for anything but joy in this sky,
it's too late,
(a relief),
too late for regrets,
too late for a change of mind,
and it's a relief,
to feel the air rush past,
to know this is it,
to know it's over, it's done, he's done what he could,
he's done his best,
and his mum will understand, she understands,
she will -
[Ruth Tyler understands: that she's failed him; that she failed to see the sky waiting at the back of his eyes; understands that she doesn't matter; and she'll go on, of course, she's done it before, once, twice, she can do it again, pick herself up another time and go on, she needs to believe that, and sometimes she does believe that, sometimes – and then she stands by a mound of earth that's still fresh and she knows that this time is different, and she straightens her back, raises her chin, and there's no place to go, no place to go at all.]
- and he's falling,
too late now,
falling,
and it's so good
to be going, going,
almost gone,
too late to do anything,
it's over already,
it's over,
the sky gone,
only ground now,
jumping up,
rushing up,
(a relief),
and there's nothing here for him,
nothing, nobody -
[Maya has had a lunch date, another pointless exercise in rebound, and of course anyone should be better than Sam, Sam was unsalvageable from the first, and yet, and yet - and there's an ambulance in front of the building, a small crowd, a colleague turns, sees her, moves to apprehend her, and she knows, she just knows; she trips, runs, pushes through the cluster and reaches the centre just as someone says 'it's over', sinks to her knees as frantic activity is replaced by a stillness that radiates outwards, takes his hand and feels a hand on her shoulder and says, to no one in particular, 'I'm his girlfriend', surprised.]
- and there's
no way to turn back,
no reason,
this is liberation,
this is -
and the last millisecond takes forever,
a glorious, golden eternity,
and then
the ground's there and
things burst, tear and break
and his blood's free to fill spaces inside him
as his brain quietly gives out
and that's that.
***
Yeah? Nay? Ms. I'm-never-wrong? ;-)
(I think I may have accidentally removed some of the 'flying' sensation from it with this step, because I think that was largely created by some of the padding I removed. Which, if true, leaves me with an interesting dilemma...)
ETA: And here's version number three, with new padding:
***
And then it's suddenly very simple:
his feet slapping on concrete, the last step,
the last,
pushing off with all his power,
and there's only the great blue,
and gravity,
and it's all right,
no space for anything but joy in this sky,
it's too late,
(a relief),
too late for regrets,
too late for a change of mind,
and it's such a relief,
to feel the air rush past,
to know this is it,
to know it's over, it's done, he's done what he could,
he's done his best,
and his mum will understand, she understands,
she will -
[Ruth Tyler understands: that she's failed him; that she failed to see the sky waiting at the back of his eyes; understands that she doesn't matter; and she'll go on, of course, she's done it before, once, twice, she can do it again, pick herself up another time and go on, she needs to believe that, and sometimes she does believe that, sometimes – and then she stands by a mound of earth that's still fresh and she knows that this time is different, and she straightens her back, raises her chin, and there's no place to go, no place to go at all.]
- and he's falling,
too late now,
falling,
and it's so good
to be going, going,
gone,
almost gone,
too late to do anything,
it's over already,
it's over,
the sky gone,
only ground now,
jumping up,
rushing up,
(a relief),
and there's nothing here for him,
nothing, nobody -
[Maya has had a lunch date, another pointless exercise in rebound, and of course anyone should be better than Sam, Sam was unsalvageable from the first, and yet, and yet - and there's an ambulance in front of the building, a small crowd, a colleague turns, sees her, moves to apprehend her, and she knows, she just knows; she trips, runs, pushes through the cluster and reaches the centre just as someone says 'it's over', sinks to her knees as frantic activity is replaced by a stillness that radiates outwards, takes his hand and feels a hand on her shoulder and says, to no one in particular, 'I'm his girlfriend', surprised.]
- and there's
no way to turn back,
no reason,
this is liberation,
this is -
and the last millisecond takes forever,
a glorious, golden eternity,
and then
the ground's there and
things burst, tear and break
and his blood's free to fill spaces inside him
as his brain quietly gives out
and that's that.
***
And I think this is the point where I decide that this needs a month in a drawer.
In some cases there may be Verschlimmbesserungen. (Now there's a word for the 'German is better than English is better than German' page...)
And this thing still has no title except for the oblique joke, stolen from Max Goldt, of "Auf dem Sprung in die Tiefe verhungern" ("Starving on the jump down", more or less.)
Anyway, here goes:
***
And then it's suddenly very simple:
his feet slapping on concrete, the last step,
the last,
pushing off with all his power,
and there's only the great blue,
and gravity,
and it's all right,
no space for anything but joy in this sky,
it's too late,
(a relief),
too late for regrets,
too late for a change of mind,
and it's a relief,
to feel the air rush past,
to know this is it,
to know it's over, it's done, he's done what he could,
he's done his best,
and his mum will understand, she understands,
she will -
[Ruth Tyler understands: that she's failed him; that she failed to see the sky waiting at the back of his eyes; understands that she doesn't matter; and she'll go on, of course, she's done it before, once, twice, she can do it again, pick herself up another time and go on, she needs to believe that, and sometimes she does believe that, sometimes – and then she stands by a mound of earth that's still fresh and she knows that this time is different, and she straightens her back, raises her chin, and there's no place to go, no place to go at all.]
- and he's falling,
too late now,
falling,
and it's so good
to be going, going,
almost gone,
too late to do anything,
it's over already,
it's over,
the sky gone,
only ground now,
jumping up,
rushing up,
(a relief),
and there's nothing here for him,
nothing, nobody -
[Maya has had a lunch date, another pointless exercise in rebound, and of course anyone should be better than Sam, Sam was unsalvageable from the first, and yet, and yet - and there's an ambulance in front of the building, a small crowd, a colleague turns, sees her, moves to apprehend her, and she knows, she just knows; she trips, runs, pushes through the cluster and reaches the centre just as someone says 'it's over', sinks to her knees as frantic activity is replaced by a stillness that radiates outwards, takes his hand and feels a hand on her shoulder and says, to no one in particular, 'I'm his girlfriend', surprised.]
- and there's
no way to turn back,
no reason,
this is liberation,
this is -
and the last millisecond takes forever,
a glorious, golden eternity,
and then
the ground's there and
things burst, tear and break
and his blood's free to fill spaces inside him
as his brain quietly gives out
and that's that.
***
Yeah? Nay? Ms. I'm-never-wrong? ;-)
(I think I may have accidentally removed some of the 'flying' sensation from it with this step, because I think that was largely created by some of the padding I removed. Which, if true, leaves me with an interesting dilemma...)
ETA: And here's version number three, with new padding:
***
And then it's suddenly very simple:
his feet slapping on concrete, the last step,
the last,
pushing off with all his power,
and there's only the great blue,
and gravity,
and it's all right,
no space for anything but joy in this sky,
it's too late,
(a relief),
too late for regrets,
too late for a change of mind,
and it's such a relief,
to feel the air rush past,
to know this is it,
to know it's over, it's done, he's done what he could,
he's done his best,
and his mum will understand, she understands,
she will -
[Ruth Tyler understands: that she's failed him; that she failed to see the sky waiting at the back of his eyes; understands that she doesn't matter; and she'll go on, of course, she's done it before, once, twice, she can do it again, pick herself up another time and go on, she needs to believe that, and sometimes she does believe that, sometimes – and then she stands by a mound of earth that's still fresh and she knows that this time is different, and she straightens her back, raises her chin, and there's no place to go, no place to go at all.]
- and he's falling,
too late now,
falling,
and it's so good
to be going, going,
gone,
almost gone,
too late to do anything,
it's over already,
it's over,
the sky gone,
only ground now,
jumping up,
rushing up,
(a relief),
and there's nothing here for him,
nothing, nobody -
[Maya has had a lunch date, another pointless exercise in rebound, and of course anyone should be better than Sam, Sam was unsalvageable from the first, and yet, and yet - and there's an ambulance in front of the building, a small crowd, a colleague turns, sees her, moves to apprehend her, and she knows, she just knows; she trips, runs, pushes through the cluster and reaches the centre just as someone says 'it's over', sinks to her knees as frantic activity is replaced by a stillness that radiates outwards, takes his hand and feels a hand on her shoulder and says, to no one in particular, 'I'm his girlfriend', surprised.]
- and there's
no way to turn back,
no reason,
this is liberation,
this is -
and the last millisecond takes forever,
a glorious, golden eternity,
and then
the ground's there and
things burst, tear and break
and his blood's free to fill spaces inside him
as his brain quietly gives out
and that's that.
***
And I think this is the point where I decide that this needs a month in a drawer.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Re: In Three Parts! ZOMG! Part 1.
Date: 2007-04-21 08:00 am (UTC)The notes I do have are basically - you guessed it - machete out those connecting words.
(Though keep the "and" in "things burse, tear and break". It's good rhythmically, the "and" doesn't start or end the sentence, and, paradoxically, I think taking it out "things burst, tear, break" would risk it becoming a poetic cliche of all things - rhythmically speaking!)
Also, I'd love the sleight of hand in meaning - the double run-on sentence you'd get if you removed and "and" and did this:
"this is -
the last millisecond takes forever,
a glorious, golden eternity,"
This is the last millisecond. The last millisecond takes forever. Makes the break even more abrupt; you realise it a millisecond after the fact; the impact has already taken place.
That that's that. :p
That's my feedback. It really is very good - I'm just a minimalist poetry freak. I think your opinion of my opnion will rise or fall on that fact... ;)
I know that posting revised drafts is very different to getting full-on feedback in the wide-open, so (while I know you're cool with bluntness), feel free to delete or screen these comments :)
Loads to think about.
Date: 2007-04-21 10:11 pm (UTC)I think the biggest issue I have is the 'and's. I *know* it's not a strong word - that's why I already removed quite a few of them in the second draft. But I'm not sure how much of the 'flying sensation' is due to the fluid connection and the rapid aspiration of the 'and's. Basically, the 'and's represent the air rushing by, or something, in terms of rhythm/flow/sound...
A cleaner verse it may be, but does it still feel like someone falling six floors?
Need to think about this more.
Re: Loads to think about.
Date: 2007-04-21 10:26 pm (UTC)'And' is effectively invisible and while that can lead to a "run-away" feel, I think it's really undermined by the layout of the poem. You can't get the run-on feel because of the abruptness of the line breaks and the very short lines. The one 'and' I didn't mind so much was the one in the middle of a sentence. So perhaps if the 'and's are important, rearrange the lines so they aren't at the beginnings or ends of lines?
It is better with fewer, I guess I'm just a poet with a machete... ;)
As another thought for you: a poem's impact is also in its visual representation on the 'page'. At least it can be. A lot of short lines looks like a fall from six floors, the short lines pull you down the page quickly, even if it isn't onomatopaeic (...sp?).
Re: Loads to think about.
Date: 2007-04-21 10:27 pm (UTC)Guessed as much. *g*
Date: 2007-04-21 10:30 pm (UTC)Well, I said in my original post that this needs some time in the drawer, and I think it does. I'll try to finish polishing "68 Wives" before I'll get back to this, I think. Because Methos deserves *some* time, too. *g*
Re: Guessed as much. *g*
Date: 2007-04-22 08:38 am (UTC)And also, yes, finish 68 Wives, because I've thought it was postable since, basically, the first time I read it. IT DESERVES TO BE SHARED!