“A piece of sky” no doubt cursed in some strange way? And now in new hands… oh this is so intriguing Nathan, I love stories that give power to earthly objects, animating them beyond anything a human could fathom.
And your first foray into fiction?!! Whaaaaat?! Not possible. I give up.
Ha, I can relate! I spent the evening reading some really great short stories published in a few lit mags, then over to Substack and read Nathan and now I’m calling it a night and wondering why I bother 😆
Intriguing, as usual. Great use of metaphor (unusual images), and the names are other worldly: Jozar, Mara. Looking forward to the next instalment, as, no doubt, are you 😁
Thanks, Terry! Hah, yes, definitely. Though, I'll admit there is some relief know there are already words penned and I can focus on refining, cutting down and editing.
This is fantastic. How was this your first short story? It’s really suspenseful. Like if Murakami wrote an Indiana Jones book. Can’t wait for the rest!
How lovely to go back to old writing and rework it, Nathan! A fascinating and creepy read. I like the way the air becomes haunted itself and all the personification along the way. These two lines especially helped with that atmosphere:
The air he exhaled was of a corpse, and I gagged and turned away.
The air of the room continued to cloy, the fetor of decay noxious and stale. Around me, a thousand books and scrolls watched on in silence.
Cărtărescu tells us we lose authenticity in going back to edit -- maybe that's true, maybe it is less of oneself and more of a living piece of art all itself. I'm not sure, but I think there is room for both in our practice. Thoughts?
I'd forgotten that piece of thought from Mircea. It's interesting, I can see both points of view, but I think as an amateur, the authenticity that version 1 might have provided is not what I would want to post here. The person that it came from is no longer me. Over the years -- and really only in this last 1.5years through writing regularly here -- the writer within me has been replaced, piece by piece. Like the Ship of Theseus, where does that leave the authenticity? Am I only authentic to the person who I am now, or also that one from when this was originally penned?
(These thoughts are tainted by two glasses of wine, but perhaps that helps 😆)
Tricky question about authenticity... When editing, I always try to bring out more of my original intention for the story. I change phrases that might be too vague, pretty but not exactly what I meant to do or say with them. It is more difficult when you work on a story across multiple years, since you probably don't remember your original intention.
And in the end, it might just be a feeling: This feels the most authentic to me right now so let's call it a day.
My first piece of fiction definitely wasn't as sophisticated as this one. Excited to read more!
The wine helps! Now I've got wine in reply (school picnic...) but I think you can be authentic to both. It probably depends how and why you edit. This can't be discerned from anyone but you. Artists make choices, but they are authentic if not for a particular 'market' or audience, rather they are true to your aims and intentions.
Loved this beginning! I also like the idea of coming back much later to revise and edit with fresh eyes. (And really I think I should give myself that space more often.) I bet it’s been fun to shape something already created with more finely honed skills!
Yes, it's definitely a process I appreciate now, plus I know the tools will forever need sharpening, so it'll be a never-ending process I'm sure.
I was actually hesitant to open it. I worried I'd cringe too much, and certainly I did in places, but the clay was supple enough to shape and work with, and that feels great.
You should give yourself that space, definitely. 😊👍
Great piece Nathan! Every story the speaks to death by water reminds me of Chopin or Woolf (two of my favorite authors to read). I always appreciate the ambiguity you bring to the narrative allowing the reader to infer or interpret meaning to something personal, becoming tangled in our own skein of feelings and imagination. The rock, the idea, that obsession unable to be relinquished reverberates in lost love, lost friends, lost family, lost hopes or dream or goals, reminding us (me at least) of a constant throbbing desire that can’t be slaked (see what I did there!). And of course, always asking the question who is really of sound mind by the time the post concludes, and the apt fear with which we exit the scene, the obsession growling and growing. Always a pleasure to read your work!
It's great that you go back and edit what was written long ago, much like the ancient text in the story! ;) I bet many would be curious to read the unedited version, too.
I esp. liked: “Five faces, five places,” he said in whisper, nodding to himself. He pushed his glasses back up the ridge of his nose. The rims were twisted and bent, as though signposting the madness behind.
It sets the tone so well and is such a striking image.
In regards to what Kate said about voice and diminishing authenticity when we go back and edit what we have written after a long time, for certain it changes things. It is for us to decide, though and I don't think it's any less authentic than the pervious version, it's after all the same person, albeit at different stages of life.
Thanks, Alexander. Valuable thoughts. I just offered my own (wine-flecked) thoughts to Kate's original comment, which provides a lot to think on. I like what you offer here. The different stages, equally valuable.
Thanks so much, Jim! There's two more that have slipped out since that first instalment. Not quite sure how many to the finish, but it won't be overly long.
"His voice was leather..." Perfect detail, it's all so clear, the dust motes and cold tea. Great work Nathan, can't wait to see what befalls the unlucky querent.
It’s interesting that you and I are both resurrecting long dead ideas we explored in the past right now. I’m curious to see where this goes from here. I’m glad you’re recovered and back at it.
Thanks Ben, and yeah I had the same thought, although granted this will be far shorter (only around 6k words or so), depending upon how the editing pans out.
You have a gift for economy of prose and vivid imagery: "I glanced to the teacup on the small table next to me. It was empty, the contents likely now sweated back onto my shirt."
Also a very surreal and haunting piece. Fantastic work!
Catching up with my reading after the weekend of drunken debauchery and this is a great start to a intriguing new story, Nathan. As with all your stories the atmosphere and setting are brilliantly portrayed, so much so that I could practically feel the suffocating heat and smell the stench of the crazy man’s breath. Looking forward to where this one goes 👍🏼
As for reviving old stories, the only place mine belong are hidden away in my cupboard never to see the light of day again 😁
Hehe, thanks so much Dan. I figured this was probably going to be the case too, and certainly many passages have been thrown straight into the bin, but it’s also been refreshing to see and critique my own writing and pluck out the parts that could be salvaged and massaged.
“A piece of sky” no doubt cursed in some strange way? And now in new hands… oh this is so intriguing Nathan, I love stories that give power to earthly objects, animating them beyond anything a human could fathom.
And your first foray into fiction?!! Whaaaaat?! Not possible. I give up.
Ha, I can relate! I spent the evening reading some really great short stories published in a few lit mags, then over to Substack and read Nathan and now I’m calling it a night and wondering why I bother 😆
Your work is fantastic, Stephanie. As is everything Kimberly says and writes.
🤗
I'm glad you like the intrigue, Kimberly. More to come.
And ahh, nah, don't worry, the original version was very clunky. This probably still is, if a little less clunky. It's all a constant process.
Intriguing, as usual. Great use of metaphor (unusual images), and the names are other worldly: Jozar, Mara. Looking forward to the next instalment, as, no doubt, are you 😁
Thanks, Terry! Hah, yes, definitely. Though, I'll admit there is some relief know there are already words penned and I can focus on refining, cutting down and editing.
😃
This is fantastic. How was this your first short story? It’s really suspenseful. Like if Murakami wrote an Indiana Jones book. Can’t wait for the rest!
Thanks so much, Andrei. Glad you enjoyed, and hah, I like that analogy!!
How lovely to go back to old writing and rework it, Nathan! A fascinating and creepy read. I like the way the air becomes haunted itself and all the personification along the way. These two lines especially helped with that atmosphere:
The air he exhaled was of a corpse, and I gagged and turned away.
The air of the room continued to cloy, the fetor of decay noxious and stale. Around me, a thousand books and scrolls watched on in silence.
Cărtărescu tells us we lose authenticity in going back to edit -- maybe that's true, maybe it is less of oneself and more of a living piece of art all itself. I'm not sure, but I think there is room for both in our practice. Thoughts?
Such great thoughts, Kate. Thank you.
I'd forgotten that piece of thought from Mircea. It's interesting, I can see both points of view, but I think as an amateur, the authenticity that version 1 might have provided is not what I would want to post here. The person that it came from is no longer me. Over the years -- and really only in this last 1.5years through writing regularly here -- the writer within me has been replaced, piece by piece. Like the Ship of Theseus, where does that leave the authenticity? Am I only authentic to the person who I am now, or also that one from when this was originally penned?
(These thoughts are tainted by two glasses of wine, but perhaps that helps 😆)
Tricky question about authenticity... When editing, I always try to bring out more of my original intention for the story. I change phrases that might be too vague, pretty but not exactly what I meant to do or say with them. It is more difficult when you work on a story across multiple years, since you probably don't remember your original intention.
And in the end, it might just be a feeling: This feels the most authentic to me right now so let's call it a day.
My first piece of fiction definitely wasn't as sophisticated as this one. Excited to read more!
Yes, I think it's a feeling to me when I edit.
Thanks for reading and the thoughts, Vanessa. :)
The wine helps! Now I've got wine in reply (school picnic...) but I think you can be authentic to both. It probably depends how and why you edit. This can't be discerned from anyone but you. Artists make choices, but they are authentic if not for a particular 'market' or audience, rather they are true to your aims and intentions.
So well said, Kate.
Also, wine on a school picnic… 😄👀
Is this a horror story? No matter, I’m already caught in your web of fleshy bones, holding my breath.
Who can say? 🤷♂️😉
(The protagonist can say, I'm sure. We'll just have to wait for him to speak again in the next post...)
If you’ll allow him to speak long enough before… let’s see what happens to him. 😬
Hah, quite so! 😆
Loved this beginning! I also like the idea of coming back much later to revise and edit with fresh eyes. (And really I think I should give myself that space more often.) I bet it’s been fun to shape something already created with more finely honed skills!
Yes, it's definitely a process I appreciate now, plus I know the tools will forever need sharpening, so it'll be a never-ending process I'm sure.
I was actually hesitant to open it. I worried I'd cringe too much, and certainly I did in places, but the clay was supple enough to shape and work with, and that feels great.
You should give yourself that space, definitely. 😊👍
Great piece Nathan! Every story the speaks to death by water reminds me of Chopin or Woolf (two of my favorite authors to read). I always appreciate the ambiguity you bring to the narrative allowing the reader to infer or interpret meaning to something personal, becoming tangled in our own skein of feelings and imagination. The rock, the idea, that obsession unable to be relinquished reverberates in lost love, lost friends, lost family, lost hopes or dream or goals, reminding us (me at least) of a constant throbbing desire that can’t be slaked (see what I did there!). And of course, always asking the question who is really of sound mind by the time the post concludes, and the apt fear with which we exit the scene, the obsession growling and growing. Always a pleasure to read your work!
This is such a great comment and set of thoughts, Brian. Thank you for sharing, I really appreciate it.
I have yet to read any Chopin or Woolf (shame on me). Any top recommendations?
To the Lighthouse for Woolf, and The Awakening for Kate Chopin…
Much appreciated, thanks!
It's great that you go back and edit what was written long ago, much like the ancient text in the story! ;) I bet many would be curious to read the unedited version, too.
I esp. liked: “Five faces, five places,” he said in whisper, nodding to himself. He pushed his glasses back up the ridge of his nose. The rims were twisted and bent, as though signposting the madness behind.
It sets the tone so well and is such a striking image.
In regards to what Kate said about voice and diminishing authenticity when we go back and edit what we have written after a long time, for certain it changes things. It is for us to decide, though and I don't think it's any less authentic than the pervious version, it's after all the same person, albeit at different stages of life.
Thanks, Alexander. Valuable thoughts. I just offered my own (wine-flecked) thoughts to Kate's original comment, which provides a lot to think on. I like what you offer here. The different stages, equally valuable.
👍 and no less authentic. Discuss!
Now this sounds like a conversation for a podcast 😉
Clearing my schedule. Let's do it. :)
I'm game ;)
The old man captures me ...
Thanks Mary. Glad he's managed to capture you.
"like that golem of clay" -- we follow you, Nathan, heart to heart.
🤗
This is wonderful, Nathan. I'm hooked.
Thanks so much, Jim! There's two more that have slipped out since that first instalment. Not quite sure how many to the finish, but it won't be overly long.
What a mysterious story. And your first? I think it's stupendous! I look forward to its continuation.
The continuation is now live (though of course, no hurry to get there)! Thank you for reading, Nadia, always so appreciate your words.
Yehaaaaaaaaaaw! It’s wonderful :’).
"His voice was leather..." Perfect detail, it's all so clear, the dust motes and cold tea. Great work Nathan, can't wait to see what befalls the unlucky querent.
Thanks so much for reading, Troy. More to come this week…
It’s interesting that you and I are both resurrecting long dead ideas we explored in the past right now. I’m curious to see where this goes from here. I’m glad you’re recovered and back at it.
Thanks Ben, and yeah I had the same thought, although granted this will be far shorter (only around 6k words or so), depending upon how the editing pans out.
You have a gift for economy of prose and vivid imagery: "I glanced to the teacup on the small table next to me. It was empty, the contents likely now sweated back onto my shirt."
Also a very surreal and haunting piece. Fantastic work!
You're too kind, Ben. Thank you for reading. This is great feedback.
Catching up with my reading after the weekend of drunken debauchery and this is a great start to a intriguing new story, Nathan. As with all your stories the atmosphere and setting are brilliantly portrayed, so much so that I could practically feel the suffocating heat and smell the stench of the crazy man’s breath. Looking forward to where this one goes 👍🏼
As for reviving old stories, the only place mine belong are hidden away in my cupboard never to see the light of day again 😁
Hehe, thanks so much Dan. I figured this was probably going to be the case too, and certainly many passages have been thrown straight into the bin, but it’s also been refreshing to see and critique my own writing and pluck out the parts that could be salvaged and massaged.