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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 7 2013, 01:46 PM (226 Views) | |
| Katsuko | Mar 7 2013, 01:46 PM Post #1 |
Sandopolis Act 1
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Hey folks. So, I've been trying to get this short story going for a little while, but it just doesn't seem to want to go anywhere  I have a first scene for both characters, and I know where they're going in the big picture... but something just doesn't seem to be working with each intro. I was hoping the good folks at SB might have some thoughts about how I might approach this. Here are the scenes: intro scene 1 Unknown to me, the mad scientist turned entertainer had passed the well-meaning Sinner on the international highway. Don’t laugh: if he catches her, he’s going to put her through the Lingering Death. She was lost when that old crook found her. The directions instructed Adelaide to turn east, but she’d characteristically mistaken west for east, and every turn after that just befuddled the situation more. Now the highway led up the dark side of a hill while the sun set behind the trees to the right. “Now Addy, we’re just gonna walk ‘til we come to another intersection—k?” She spoke with a thick southern accent, except it wasn’t genuinely southern. Under stress, she was the kind of person who invented a new voice. “Another intersection. If it ain’t there, then we’ll turn right round like and head right where’n we came from.” Underneath the voice, a panicked part of Adelaide—way in the back—didn’t like how empty the highway was. We might imagine that she railed against the barren quiet of the outside world, wringing her hands while the faux-southern voice went on yakking into the stretching dusk. Yes, after five hours of wandering, we might imagine she wrung her hands. She should have preferred being alone. What she didn’t notice were two stars of yellow light at the horizon behind her. But those lights grew. Little by little, the white Honda 57-X SunRider crept up on our Adelaide; the time had to come when Adelaide would hear the muffled roar of a deep-freeze engine. She froze; she turned her head over her shoulder. Just as she did, the white missile of a car flashed by. For tiniest piece of a millisecond, she got to look the machine in its black-windowed face. Then it was past her and over the hill. It was time to turn around—and run until she found the train-stop that had put her here and take it all the way back to her college home. Now I’m not saying Adelaide had any preternatural abilities, not then, anyway. But if she had some special insight, if she knew just who had gotten his first glimpse of a lone nineteen-year-old girl petrified at the roadside, I can’t imagine that her reaction would have been more appropriate. -- Intro scene 2 [possible segue] Like I said, I had no idea any of this was going on. Right then, my number one concern was Mom. [/ps] A lot of kids don’t like their parents, and I’m not saying mine’s worse, OK? No one—and I mean no one—loves Mommy more than her little girl here. But look, while she was a great parent, Mom was bad for me. In fifth grade, she wanted me to run for president. I didn’t want that so much, because being president means asking the other kids for votes, and I didn’t like the other kids. (I know, I know. That’s not very likable of me—you have to like people to be liked, and all that. Well, maybe I’m not likable.) Anyway, I was eleven, and even I wasn’t going to thwart Mom at that age. I ran for office; I read Mom’s speech, after I practiced it twenty-seven times with her, and she’d impressed on me how I needed to win that election. So I did. And that’s pretty much how it went for the next seven years. Then came year eight. I’d like to claim I broke that cycle through pure willpower, that I possessed at those tender years a wealth of rebellious independence. But nope, at least with her, I stuck to the script, and if the Crook hadn’t caught the Sinner, I’d probably be following still to this day. But this and that aside, Mom: I met her while she was ironing. A pile of clothes—mine, and dad’s, and hers—sat on the bed, and her room emanated that slightly burnt, fresh-from-the-dryer smell laundry always has. I needed to sit down, so I took the chair at her desk that faced her bed. Then, I read my name: “Dear Fieuline… The Admissions Committee has completed its review of your application, and I am sorry to inform you that we are unable to offer you admission to the Carnot School of Cybernetics.” I folded the letter once length-wise, once width-wise, set it down, and then I walked out. Edited by Katsuko, Mar 7 2013, 01:59 PM.
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 <3 All you need is love <3 | |
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| Katsuko | Mar 10 2013, 12:35 AM Post #2 |
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Sandopolis Act 1
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Nevermind about this; I've got it figured out. edit: And yes, I should have edited this in. I'm not going to cry over spilled milk now that I've made the error (at 4:40 AM). Edited by Katsuko, Mar 10 2013, 12:37 AM.
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<3 All you need is love <3 | |
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