“For the rest of that day I stayed there by the waves, a witness to the eternal and uncaring crash of the sea. The water crept and edged toward my body as the sun dipped out of the sky, and by moonlight I salted the sand with my endless tears.”
I know you don’t like endings, Nathan, but that’s a great last paragraph. As Nick said it’s so wonderfully evocative that I can clearly picture him sitting weeping on that sand as the waves roll in
Your last paragraph, an excellent grand finale! My clothes sticking uncomfortably, wet from the sand , but I’m unable to leave. Though most of us want the story to continue, the author has the final say. Or does he?
If this were a movie (and it should be) the last scene pans out across the endless waters then plunges down to the dark unknowns, a glint of reflection far below. Not even you , could find the power to destroy it.
I still say, a ‘flavor’ of Patrick Rothfuss in your writing. Just to prove my point, here is one example of PR’s ability to create a scene with words alone. Like someone else I know…
“The third silence was not an easy thing to notice. If you listened for an hour, you might begin to feel it in the wooden floor underfoot and in the rough, splintering barrels behind the bar. It was in the weight of the black stone hearth that held the heat of a long-dead fire. It was in the slow back and forth of a white linen cloth rubbing along the grain of the bar. and it was in the hands of the man who stood there, polishing a stretch of mahogany that already gleamed in the lamplight.”
Arhhhhhg it is toooo much for me to cope with to be placed in such a proximity of Rothfuss. 😄🥰
Thank you, Lor. You brighten every day with your words. Rereading that passage really does make me want to go reread those books. It has been too long. Will we ever get the conclusion to the Kingkiller chronicle? Hmm, I'm not so sure. Perhaps Patrick also struggles with endings.
Anyway, I will now proceed to float through my weekend after reading your amazing words.
Your writing is always evocative and this leaves me crying for more but reluctantly understanding that this must have been a very difficult idea to encapsulate with an END so we are left within our feelings and the ache for more of it. It works with this piece. I regret not being able to read it all in a single sitting as im sure this would distil the essences more fully!
You are too kind with your words, Nick. Thanks so much.
I feel a sense of relief at reaching this end. I will let it simmer. Maybe one day I will get around to considering compiling stories into a single document as an additional means to read when something is finished.
Wow! He had the power to change his faith but only after he lost so much… it’s quite sad, isn’t it? I would like to read the story from Mara‘s perspective.
I've said before that the stone gave major One Ring vibes, but now I'm almost thinking it feels like a cancer that's stolen his love and nearly undone himself. Such a beautiful tale of loss and grief, Nathan - thanks for sharing!
I also loved the line Daniel quotes here. But the way you show this calling out to someone not there, into the night, facing fears and tricks of the mind…it is a scene sometimes repeated but you do it so well and make us question our place in this world we take for granted. Well done, Nathan! An enjoyable read as always.
Oh my, BRAVO!!! Such an evocative story Nathan. I’m now sensing an entirely new layer of meaning, and I feel like I want to go back to the beginning and EXTREME SLOW READ to assimilate all your nuance. I’m not sure it was intended… but is the old man the future self of the narrator? He felt like a messenger from another realm, and the rock somehow a catalyst or bridge for these interlacing dimensions. Regardless your intent, I applaud your restraint and economy, leaving room for us to imagineer and dream our own meaning. This would make a brilliant short film… a project for you and Jo someday perhaps?!
Thanks so much, Kimberly. I'm really happy that you found this meaning in your own experience of the reading of this.
It wasn't my intention when originally wrote the story, nor was it when I first started this rewrite, but it did soon shift towards what I felt was trying to be a) exactly as you describe, or b) that the old man was merely the conjuration of his grieving mind seeking answers when he was the one holding the answers all along. But regardless, as you know I want to paint fiction (and read fiction of others) that somewhat leads it up to the reader to decide, so I am open to each and every interpretation a reader has.
What to say? This story encapsulates all the elements I love in fiction: mystery, the told/untold, space, openness, multiple directionality. Magnificent work, Nathan! You have the gift of painting with words, of making the reader be there, immersed in a VR scene. There are too many outstanding passages to quote them all, but a few left a mark on me (both literarily and emotionally): "The only movement was that of a moth, attacking the glass pane with repeated idiocy", and "It had taken all I had known and held and loved, and my folly—to be preoccupied by that which does not even live—was to blind myself until it was too late", and finally "It sent up a brief splash, then was gone, taken by the water where it would remain forever." Brilliant! A finale worthy of all the beauty that came before.
Thanks so much, Silvio. Incredibly kind. The moth was a line that came from nowhere and I really enjoyed seeing emerge, so I'm pleased you liked that too.
It feels a relief to have this done, but in terms of having written it and in terms of it seemingly not being a flop haha.
Appreciate all your kindness and thoughtfulness. 🙏
Ahhh, a hard one to close out. Regret has no end. The sorrow continues and no amount of time or tears will undo what cannot be undone, like endless tears the story continues in the reader's minds and hearts.
I like the ending. Hard to imagine it to end any other way, it feels right.
I cannot remember whether it has been mentioned in the comments before, but the story also has a new title in its resurrected form. Regardless of what that might have been, “And it was lost” fits well, especially with the new ending and the themes you mention; the sense of loss and regret is re-emphasised with this conclusion, but there is also a loss of obsession—the stone loses its power, if it ever even had any.
Does this mean that you had an inkling of how the ending would change when you started the serialisation? Or did your intentions evolve with the telling?
A good question. I tossed and turned with ideas, knowing that a few things would change but not quite what. The original ending was something I was never happy with, although it did contain a few lines that I enjoyed but sadly had to cut.
Ah, always a shame to lose some good lines, but if they do not fit, then they do not fit. However, you can keep them in your drawer to perhaps use another day.
Well, I’m here to say what has already been said. For someone who doesn’t like ending, you created a banger of a final paragraph. Glad you revived and shared this gripping story.
Wow. I loved being sucked in to the moment, my hands arrested on the zipper pull along with his. Well done, Nathan. Your work is always a pleasure to read!
“For the rest of that day I stayed there by the waves, a witness to the eternal and uncaring crash of the sea. The water crept and edged toward my body as the sun dipped out of the sky, and by moonlight I salted the sand with my endless tears.”
I know you don’t like endings, Nathan, but that’s a great last paragraph. As Nick said it’s so wonderfully evocative that I can clearly picture him sitting weeping on that sand as the waves roll in
Brilliantly done 👍🏼
Thanks as always, Dan. I so very appreciate you reading. I'm pleased to hear the image is evocative.
I loved this line at the end too. Brilliant.
Your last paragraph, an excellent grand finale! My clothes sticking uncomfortably, wet from the sand , but I’m unable to leave. Though most of us want the story to continue, the author has the final say. Or does he?
If this were a movie (and it should be) the last scene pans out across the endless waters then plunges down to the dark unknowns, a glint of reflection far below. Not even you , could find the power to destroy it.
I still say, a ‘flavor’ of Patrick Rothfuss in your writing. Just to prove my point, here is one example of PR’s ability to create a scene with words alone. Like someone else I know…
“The third silence was not an easy thing to notice. If you listened for an hour, you might begin to feel it in the wooden floor underfoot and in the rough, splintering barrels behind the bar. It was in the weight of the black stone hearth that held the heat of a long-dead fire. It was in the slow back and forth of a white linen cloth rubbing along the grain of the bar. and it was in the hands of the man who stood there, polishing a stretch of mahogany that already gleamed in the lamplight.”
Patrick Rothfuss ~The Name of the Wind.
(Makes you want to read it again).
ONE OF MY FAVOURITE AUTHORS AND BOOKS!
Arhhhhhg it is toooo much for me to cope with to be placed in such a proximity of Rothfuss. 😄🥰
Thank you, Lor. You brighten every day with your words. Rereading that passage really does make me want to go reread those books. It has been too long. Will we ever get the conclusion to the Kingkiller chronicle? Hmm, I'm not so sure. Perhaps Patrick also struggles with endings.
Anyway, I will now proceed to float through my weekend after reading your amazing words.
‘I rest my case’
...To those who saw me—those few others who walked under the sea of stars—I was merely a tourist who had lost his way.
This entire paragraph was a poem to me.
And I Love the ending--the release of tears. Perfect.
🙏 thank you, Ann. This warms my heart.
A beautiful and heart wrenching story, all around Nathan. I’m glad you decided to bring this idea from the past to life!
Thanks for your thoughts and time spent reading this, Brian. It means a lot.
Nathan
Your writing is always evocative and this leaves me crying for more but reluctantly understanding that this must have been a very difficult idea to encapsulate with an END so we are left within our feelings and the ache for more of it. It works with this piece. I regret not being able to read it all in a single sitting as im sure this would distil the essences more fully!
You are too kind with your words, Nick. Thanks so much.
I feel a sense of relief at reaching this end. I will let it simmer. Maybe one day I will get around to considering compiling stories into a single document as an additional means to read when something is finished.
Wow! He had the power to change his faith but only after he lost so much… it’s quite sad, isn’t it? I would like to read the story from Mara‘s perspective.
Thanks, Claudia.
That may, or may not, happen. Not sure. I've toyed with the idea. I'll continue to toy with it. 😊
So beautiful and wise.
Thank you, my friend.
I've said before that the stone gave major One Ring vibes, but now I'm almost thinking it feels like a cancer that's stolen his love and nearly undone himself. Such a beautiful tale of loss and grief, Nathan - thanks for sharing!
Thanks so much for reading and offering your thoughts, Troy. 🤗
I also loved the line Daniel quotes here. But the way you show this calling out to someone not there, into the night, facing fears and tricks of the mind…it is a scene sometimes repeated but you do it so well and make us question our place in this world we take for granted. Well done, Nathan! An enjoyable read as always.
Thanks Kate, really appreciate your thoughts my friend. 😊
Oh my, BRAVO!!! Such an evocative story Nathan. I’m now sensing an entirely new layer of meaning, and I feel like I want to go back to the beginning and EXTREME SLOW READ to assimilate all your nuance. I’m not sure it was intended… but is the old man the future self of the narrator? He felt like a messenger from another realm, and the rock somehow a catalyst or bridge for these interlacing dimensions. Regardless your intent, I applaud your restraint and economy, leaving room for us to imagineer and dream our own meaning. This would make a brilliant short film… a project for you and Jo someday perhaps?!
Thanks so much, Kimberly. I'm really happy that you found this meaning in your own experience of the reading of this.
It wasn't my intention when originally wrote the story, nor was it when I first started this rewrite, but it did soon shift towards what I felt was trying to be a) exactly as you describe, or b) that the old man was merely the conjuration of his grieving mind seeking answers when he was the one holding the answers all along. But regardless, as you know I want to paint fiction (and read fiction of others) that somewhat leads it up to the reader to decide, so I am open to each and every interpretation a reader has.
What to say? This story encapsulates all the elements I love in fiction: mystery, the told/untold, space, openness, multiple directionality. Magnificent work, Nathan! You have the gift of painting with words, of making the reader be there, immersed in a VR scene. There are too many outstanding passages to quote them all, but a few left a mark on me (both literarily and emotionally): "The only movement was that of a moth, attacking the glass pane with repeated idiocy", and "It had taken all I had known and held and loved, and my folly—to be preoccupied by that which does not even live—was to blind myself until it was too late", and finally "It sent up a brief splash, then was gone, taken by the water where it would remain forever." Brilliant! A finale worthy of all the beauty that came before.
Thanks so much, Silvio. Incredibly kind. The moth was a line that came from nowhere and I really enjoyed seeing emerge, so I'm pleased you liked that too.
It feels a relief to have this done, but in terms of having written it and in terms of it seemingly not being a flop haha.
Appreciate all your kindness and thoughtfulness. 🙏
It was an extraordinary work, Nathan. Happy for you that's out there now, in all its splendor!
Ahhh, a hard one to close out. Regret has no end. The sorrow continues and no amount of time or tears will undo what cannot be undone, like endless tears the story continues in the reader's minds and hearts.
I like the ending. Hard to imagine it to end any other way, it feels right.
Thanks, Alexander. It feeling right is the best possible outcome I could hope for.
A new ending—bravo!
I cannot remember whether it has been mentioned in the comments before, but the story also has a new title in its resurrected form. Regardless of what that might have been, “And it was lost” fits well, especially with the new ending and the themes you mention; the sense of loss and regret is re-emphasised with this conclusion, but there is also a loss of obsession—the stone loses its power, if it ever even had any.
Does this mean that you had an inkling of how the ending would change when you started the serialisation? Or did your intentions evolve with the telling?
Thank you, sir.
A good question. I tossed and turned with ideas, knowing that a few things would change but not quite what. The original ending was something I was never happy with, although it did contain a few lines that I enjoyed but sadly had to cut.
Ah, always a shame to lose some good lines, but if they do not fit, then they do not fit. However, you can keep them in your drawer to perhaps use another day.
Gorgeous.
Thank you, my friend.
Well, I’m here to say what has already been said. For someone who doesn’t like ending, you created a banger of a final paragraph. Glad you revived and shared this gripping story.
🤗🙏 thank you, Holly. Thank you so much.
Wow. I loved being sucked in to the moment, my hands arrested on the zipper pull along with his. Well done, Nathan. Your work is always a pleasure to read!
And it is always a pleasure to have you as a reader, Renee. Thank you!