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Description:
"In time, Willie will drop from his high on alcohol and self-pity. In time, he will adapt to working for the black man who used to work for him. Bear now owns Willie's hard-earned heavy-construction business because of a glitch in government regulations. But what Wille will never adapt to is his x-wife's conning him out of his twin girls."
That set off a bit of a red flag, eh? He will adapt to working for the black man who used to work for him? Because of a glitch in government regulations? Is this story going to be a sermon about affirmative action?
Thankfully, not really, but we'll get to that later. This story reads like a piece by a creative writing student in college who has been reading experimental fiction and wants to emulate it. Sure enough, from her author page: "Janice Daugharty, writer in residence at Abraham Baldwin Agriculture College, in Tifton, Georgia."
Thankfully, not really, but we'll get to that later. This story reads like a piece by a creative writing student in college who has been reading experimental fiction and wants to emulate it. Sure enough, from her author page: "Janice Daugharty, writer in residence at Abraham Baldwin Agriculture College, in Tifton, Georgia."
She is all about the creative writing classes. And, it would be sort of ironically prejudiced for me to point out that "Georgia" and "Agriculture College" don't bode well for not being a racist, but... well, come on. Misspelling ex-wife doesn't help her case either, as long as we're making sweeping generalizations.
The thing is these pieces that are a product of college classes can be good, but it is damn hard to be as good as the famous, post-modern short story authors you are studying. This particular story is about a depressed redneck who you expect to commit suicide by the end. There is actually far, far more effort put into the story than the description lets on, but like I said, her goal is essentially on-par with me sleeping with Jennifer Aniston without a rape charge- creative writing teacher or no.
The thing is, there has to be a reason for this story in order for it to be good, and I was fully expecting it to end in suicide, which would have been a stupid, pointless story. Luckily, she adds a twist at the end--the guy takes his rope, loops it, and uses it to steal a sign on the road as a small consolation prize.
NOW, that would be a good story, IF I liked the main character. But I didn't. He sucked, and I found myself wanting him to die at the end of the story. The result? A story that was not predictable, but which was actually slightly disappointing because of that fact. Don't get all meta on me and say that maybe that was her intention, that the guy stealing the useless sign at the end was him symbolically stealing something from me as a reader and this was all self-conscious. That is giving way too much credit.
Ratings:
WAY Too Much Flowery Language: 5 out of 5. This was actually a really short story, but it seemed to go on twice as long as the stuff I usually review because every fucking minor detail had over-the-top descriptive language. It didn't always benefit the story, either. Here is the first paragraph:
"A scooched owl in the live oaks swoops low over the lanes. Willie slows his pickup and turns left off the highway. Yellow lights blinker on the white mailbox, on rags of Spanish moss where katydids stash their summer shrieks. A tired country song on the radio loads the dusk, textured of winter's nothingness hum. Sounds borrowed from yesterday, on loan from tomorrow."
You know that doesn't make any fucking sense, right? I am impressed with the amount of bullshit that was jammed into one paragraph while telling me essentially nothing. "There is a guy driving a truck," you say? Great. I give a fuck, I really do. First, the internet says there is a colloquialism for "scooch owl," not "scooched," but I'll let that slide. But here- oh! You forgot an adjective for lanes! What kind of lanes are they? You're not being exhaustively fucking descriptive enough! Since when is "blinker" a verb? You know how I can tell "where katydids stash their summer shrieks" is a fucking useless thing to say? Because I can't tell if it's winter or summer from this paragraph now. You have failed at the thing you are trying to do hardest--set the scene. "Sounds borrowed from yesterday, on loan from tomorrow." What the fuck does that mean? Does it make any fucking sense at all? Tell me. TELL ME. Being very liberal here, I am going to give the benefit of the doubt and say it's a really fucking dumb way to say every day has the same soundtrack. "Winter's nothingness hum." Please. Get the fuck out of my house.
Is This Racist? 5 out of 5. Yeah it really leaves you wondering. That's not a good sign, is it? Now, the main character is definitely racist. He is all down because he is "the new nigger." It's not the use of the word nigger that bothers me, hell, I used it for a purpose just now. It's the fact that he is upset about a black man being his boss. There's more though. He reflects that the "city folk" will kill you if you use the word nigger, but they turn right around and call you redneck. Yeah, well, deal with it, you racist fuck. He also thinks that all white people are the new niggers. Thanks, OBAMA! Don't even fucking start with bringing up affirmative action and saying bullshit like that. You will end up dead by my hands, DEAD. Anyway, all of that does not necessarily mean that the author is a racist. He is a character in a story, not her journal. But then there's the fact that he steals a sign at the end instead of committing suicide, and the message is basically: sometimes life is a bitch, you are a born loser, and you just gotta take your consolation prizes. Like I said before, that's only an effective message if I like the main character. And I don't like him. He's a racist. So there's that. You meditate on that for a while.
The thing is these pieces that are a product of college classes can be good, but it is damn hard to be as good as the famous, post-modern short story authors you are studying. This particular story is about a depressed redneck who you expect to commit suicide by the end. There is actually far, far more effort put into the story than the description lets on, but like I said, her goal is essentially on-par with me sleeping with Jennifer Aniston without a rape charge- creative writing teacher or no.
The thing is, there has to be a reason for this story in order for it to be good, and I was fully expecting it to end in suicide, which would have been a stupid, pointless story. Luckily, she adds a twist at the end--the guy takes his rope, loops it, and uses it to steal a sign on the road as a small consolation prize.
NOW, that would be a good story, IF I liked the main character. But I didn't. He sucked, and I found myself wanting him to die at the end of the story. The result? A story that was not predictable, but which was actually slightly disappointing because of that fact. Don't get all meta on me and say that maybe that was her intention, that the guy stealing the useless sign at the end was him symbolically stealing something from me as a reader and this was all self-conscious. That is giving way too much credit.
Ratings:
WAY Too Much Flowery Language: 5 out of 5. This was actually a really short story, but it seemed to go on twice as long as the stuff I usually review because every fucking minor detail had over-the-top descriptive language. It didn't always benefit the story, either. Here is the first paragraph:
"A scooched owl in the live oaks swoops low over the lanes. Willie slows his pickup and turns left off the highway. Yellow lights blinker on the white mailbox, on rags of Spanish moss where katydids stash their summer shrieks. A tired country song on the radio loads the dusk, textured of winter's nothingness hum. Sounds borrowed from yesterday, on loan from tomorrow."
You know that doesn't make any fucking sense, right? I am impressed with the amount of bullshit that was jammed into one paragraph while telling me essentially nothing. "There is a guy driving a truck," you say? Great. I give a fuck, I really do. First, the internet says there is a colloquialism for "scooch owl," not "scooched," but I'll let that slide. But here- oh! You forgot an adjective for lanes! What kind of lanes are they? You're not being exhaustively fucking descriptive enough! Since when is "blinker" a verb? You know how I can tell "where katydids stash their summer shrieks" is a fucking useless thing to say? Because I can't tell if it's winter or summer from this paragraph now. You have failed at the thing you are trying to do hardest--set the scene. "Sounds borrowed from yesterday, on loan from tomorrow." What the fuck does that mean? Does it make any fucking sense at all? Tell me. TELL ME. Being very liberal here, I am going to give the benefit of the doubt and say it's a really fucking dumb way to say every day has the same soundtrack. "Winter's nothingness hum." Please. Get the fuck out of my house.
Is This Racist? 5 out of 5. Yeah it really leaves you wondering. That's not a good sign, is it? Now, the main character is definitely racist. He is all down because he is "the new nigger." It's not the use of the word nigger that bothers me, hell, I used it for a purpose just now. It's the fact that he is upset about a black man being his boss. There's more though. He reflects that the "city folk" will kill you if you use the word nigger, but they turn right around and call you redneck. Yeah, well, deal with it, you racist fuck. He also thinks that all white people are the new niggers. Thanks, OBAMA! Don't even fucking start with bringing up affirmative action and saying bullshit like that. You will end up dead by my hands, DEAD. Anyway, all of that does not necessarily mean that the author is a racist. He is a character in a story, not her journal. But then there's the fact that he steals a sign at the end instead of committing suicide, and the message is basically: sometimes life is a bitch, you are a born loser, and you just gotta take your consolation prizes. Like I said before, that's only an effective message if I like the main character. And I don't like him. He's a racist. So there's that. You meditate on that for a while.
A for Effort: 5 out of 5. This story is well-polished, previously published, and a lot of thought went into it. Like, a fuck-load of thought. You read the first paragraph for yourself; you think she spent less than a month trying to think of all those little embellishments? No, she definitely fucking strained her brain for this one, and for that I will give her credit. Thank you, lady who I already forgot the name of, for putting one hundred and ten percent into an Amazon story, and making all of us fellow self-published authors look a little less like teenagers stranded on a desert island without clothes just rabidly jacking off after we beat up the kid with glasses. Just...next time, and don't get mad when I say this, but next time, can you put all that effort into a story that has, you know, a really solid direction and message? Thanks.
Overall: 3 out of 5. Yeah, higher than you thought, right? I think this one is worth a read for anyone who hasn't taken a university-level writing class. You will seriously get the full experience.
If you want to find out what winter's nothingness hum is, go to amazon.com/author/a.c.blackhall.
If you want to find out what winter's nothingness hum is, go to amazon.com/author/a.c.blackhall.
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