[Stylist] I'd appreciate some thoughts

Thu Oct 10 17:24:47 UTC 2019

Hi Jackie, 
Thank you so much for your feedback. That's honestly what I figured: that my story just isn't working. 
I still think I want to try the contest, just for the fun of it, so I'll try another plot this weekend and see how it goes. 
I really, really don't blame you for skipping the "gothic" section! 
Vejas 

> On 10 Oct 2019, at 08:48, Jackie via Stylist <stylist at nfbnet.org> wrote:
> 
> Vegas,
> When I get my digital cartridge from the National Library for the blind, I
> skip the entire section of "Gothic." So I am not a good one to comment on
> your selection. Still, on the first reading, I do not think it fit the
> description very well. It was a bit disjointed for me with so many commas
> and ellipsis.
> Not sure this helps you at all.
> I do admire you for trying a genre that is difficult to pull off without
> reading many gothic tales.
> You will find your niche. So keep writing.
> 
> Jacqueline Williams
> 
> Clarity is just questioning having eaten its fill.
>     Jenny Xie
> 
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Vejas
> Vasiliauskas via Stylist
> Sent: Tuesday, October 08, 2019 5:15 PM
> To: stylist at nfbnet.org
> Cc: Vejas Vasiliauskas <alpineimagination at gmail.com>
> Subject: [Stylist] I'd appreciate some thoughts
> 
> Hi everyone, 
> My English teacher of my Jamaica Kincaid class has given us a neat
> opportunity which can result in winning a scholarship. This is for writing
> gothic fiction. 
> I'm typically not into horror. I know that "gothic" in most cases refers to
> ghosts, death, Poe, Dickens. 
> I'm not really into ghosts or the supernatural at all, so have tried to
> start something today erring on the side of the psychological. I've spent a
> few hours today with this piece and fear it's not "gothic" enough. 
> I'd appreciate it if anyone could look at what I have so far, and see if it
> has enough of a horror element. I don't want to try to explain what I was
> trying to do yet, because I want to see if others can figure it out. I'm not
> really interested in grammar or spelling mistakes at the moment (can catch
> them later). 
> From here, I should then hopefully decide whether I want to continue this
> plot, create another, or just wait for a writing contest in something I
> might be more familiar with. 
> Thank you so much! Here it is: 
> Horror Story Attempt 2
> 1
> 
> "Where should we eat?" asked Juliet.  The 4 of them were walking down the
> dim LA streets, because Frank, the only one of them who could drive, didn't
> have any method of transportation: his car was in the shop, and he had
> forgotten his phone, hence no Uber app.
> "I'm really hungry!" complained Steve.  "Watch it, Frank! People are staring
> at you."
> "Why are they staring at me?" Frank asked incredulously.  He stopped walking
> to light a cigarette, and the others (Steve, Juliet and Wilf) quit walking
> with an abrupt start.  Frank knew he had to choose a restaurant.  Juliet
> would adapt easily and find the cuisine of her choice anywhere.  Steve would
> eat something, after complaining for a long time.  And as for Wilf...
> "Wilf, you OK over there?" Frank asked.
> "Hi!" A blond, olive-skinned woman approached the four of them.  She spoke
> only to Frank: everyone spoke to Frank.  "I'm Natalia, from the bereavement
> group? Frank, isn't it?"
> "Yes." Frank smiled.  "So nice to see you."
> "Would you mind recommending me some nice barbecue places?" asked Natalia.
> "My phone ran out of charge a few hours ago."
> "Isn't there one over that way?" asked Juliet, not really pointing to one
> place in particular.
> "Wilf, you're a quiet chap," said Frank, "but very dependable.  Would you
> mind..."
> Natalia shrieked and ran, knocking over a small trash can in the process.
> The four of them looked on the ground, where they found nothing but...
> apple cores.  Hundreds and hundreds of them.
> 
> "What the actual..." exclaimed Frank.
> "No wonder you don't have a girlfriend," Steve said as if all the apple
> cores no longer existed.  "You scare people away like that.  Maybe you're
> gay, but even then, us men aren't usually s...  accommodating at least."
> "You have us, though," Juliet smiled.
> "Any plans to take that vacation any time soon, Steve?" Frank asked.
> Steve shook his head.  "No...  my asthma..."
> "We're all unavailable as far as relationships go," Juliet said.  "But we're
> available for you, in all other ways!"
> "Like now," Steve said.
> "OK, everyone.  Remember, at the restaurant," Frank said, "I need to get one
> meal and you 3 can't say anything.  It will have to be a meal we...  oh,
> fuck! Guys, Wilf is starting to hum again."
> "Well, that's hardly my fault," said Steve.
> Wilf wasn't much of a talker, but occasionally had these episodes.  His hums
> began like soothing lullabies and quickly turned to the sound of jet
> engines.  And then he spoke.  "Last year, last year."
> "Shut up, Wilf!" hissed Frank.
> "Last year," he continued.
> "Wilf, we'll buy you a taco, OK? And maybe then you can shut up?" Frank said
> hopefully.  "Please stop being so gloomy and stuck in the past.  It won't do
> you any good."
> Frank hadn't realized that at their position in the street there were
> several Victorian-style houses nearby.  A tanned-looking, middle-aged woman
> opened her door and stepped outside one of them.
> "Excuse me, do you need help?" she asked them.  Frank pointed at Steve and
> Juliet to shut up.  They did, and although Wilf was currently silent Frank
> knew he could start up again at any time.  He just didn't have the mental
> understanding the others did.  So, trying to be subtle but instead very
> forceful, Frank grabbed Wilf.
> "I think you need help," the woman, with a nametag on her reading DIANE
> (probably still on from some other event she had attended that day) said
> pointedly.  "I'm calling the police."
> 2
> Interview with Officer Milt Plaidy and Natalia Weller
> Plaidy: Hi, Natalia, and thank you for agreeing to come over here.  Can you
> tell me what you saw?
> Natalia: No problem, Officer.  I ran into Frank Towers walking down El
> Segundo BLVD.  I remembered him.  He was always a little strange, but that
> was to be expected...  well...  see, we were in a bereavement group
> together.  It's specifically targeted for these who lost a child or children
> between the ages of 13 and 19.
> Plaidy: So you knew him.
> Natalia: I asked him for recommendations for a barbecue place.  And this is
> where I feel so awful! See, the child that I lost...  that was 12 years ago.
> I'm mostly here to help the newbies like Frank.  So I really should have
> known better.
> Plaidy: Go on.
> Natalia: He started talking to himself.  That's a clear sign of grief.  And
> putting on different voices.  But I...  I just ran.  I don't know, I felt so
> uncomfortable, I feel so guilty...
> 3
> "I don't understand it!" Psychotherapist Abigail McClure was sitting at her
> chair facing Frank.
> "Well, I don't understand it either.  I'm not the one who pointed the knife
> at Diana, or whatever her name is.  That would be Wilf.  Wilf Peddler? Well,
> full name Wilfred.  I was grabbing him to try to restrain him, but he...
> well he has some issues.  PTSAID, they say.  Listen to me, OK? Sometimes
> people in a situation like this refuse to give the names and details of
> their friends, but I'm telling you loud and clear.  Well, fine, it's Wilfred
> Levi Peddler.  He didn't actually kill her, did he?"
> "Thankfullly, she's fine.  But Frank.  Listen to me," Abigail said in a mock
> gentle tone, while also trying to express her frustration.
> "I know his number by heart.  It's..."
> "Unregistered."
> "And Juliet Snow is his...  well...  um, caregiver," Frank said quickly.
> "But Frank.  Don't you see?" Abigail said.  "That day on the street, there
> was only one...  only one person walking."
> "Oh.  I..." How could Frank explain that the shrink was wrong? Then he
> realized he didn't have to.  He saw a pale figure wave from the window of a
> green Volkswagen.
> "Juliet!" he yelled.  "My therapist doesn't believe you're real! Can you
> come say hi?"
> "Hey, Frank!" the figure called, giggling with glee at being noticed.
> "See?" Frank asked, turning to Abigail.  "That was Juliet.  She was driving
> that bright green Volkswagen over there.  She loves Havana capuccinos from
> Starbucks, and was most likely about to go and get one..."
> "Frank.  You're...  well, quite sweet when you compliment yourself.  Most of
> my clients have the opposite problem.  There haven't been any green cars in
> the vicinity, though.  Havana capuccinos can't be found at Starbucks.  And
> didn't you say that none of your friends drive?"
> "I think she mentioned something about learning over the weekend?" Frank
> muttered.
> "How long have you know these 3 friends of yours? Wilf, Steve, and Juliana?"
> "Juliet," Frank corrected.  "I've known them for the past year, but it's
> like they're a part of me now.  I moved here from England and it was great
> to meet some other English expats.  Especially because I'm so lonely..."
> "Do you know their families?"
> "Ahhh no, none of them.  We're kind of...  drifters, they say."
> "Do you ever go out on your own?"
> "Why yes, of course.  Like right now, none of them are here.  Who actually
> brings a friend to therapy?"
> "Well, we have had some instances of this, but for other reasons...  this
> isn't relevant now.  But you decided..."
> "I decided I'm lonely," Frank said.  "And so I went out to eat Mexican food
> with them.  They said they'd always be there for me."
> "I'd imagine," Abigail replied.
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