He was having heart problems for about 1-2 months before he died and knew the last heart attack was imminent. Not wanting everyone to worry, he didn't tell us about the tremors. Anyway . . .WARNING!!!
This story has some adult content!
Robert O’Conner was dying. He had known it would come for years now, as one small stroke followed the next, his heart died away in pieces and the number of drugs he took for his condition increased exponentially throughout the years. He was a smart man, he had been to college and he could read between the doctor’s pleasant phrases and the nurses encouraging tones that something was very wrong with him indeed.
It wasn’t unexpected. He was 78 after all. If it wasn’t this it’d be something else, but he had rather hoped he’d make it to spring again. That was how he had held out for seven years, grabbing on to see spring again. Spring was when the trees were green, birds sang and couples held hands. He would just sit in the park and remember when he had been young and eager to hold another human being’s hand and felt so good because he could.
[This message has been edited by Sara Genge (edited June 16, 2006).]
What I think you're trying to say is that death is now imminent. Your protagonost knew he was dying he just didn't know quite when the deadline was (worst pun of the day so far). I'd CONSIDER starting by giving the reader the deadline. "E.g. Robert O'Connor had 3 weeks to live." There's certainly another way to do it, this is just the one that popped into my head.
Apart from that it's all great. Really clear writing, never sounds like you're trying too hard, very easy prose. Quite lovely really. I wish I had more time to read but I'm swamped at the moment.
Good luck, hope this helps.
I think that the reference to his having been to college is a bit out of place. A lot of guys that old went to college, they were the first generation for whom a college education became relatively commonplace. More important, that was probably a long time ago.
Other than that, this seems okay, but the seven years still bug me.
The third sentence is run-on, and the last section of it seems to take too many words to express its intent.
The first part of the second paragraph refers to "it" a number of times, without being too specific about what "it" is. You could pack more punch into the story by saying, "Death wasn't unexpected..." (or something like). That kind of adjustment would clarify and strengthen up an otherwise passive section.
The entire fragment would have more tension if you chose stronger verb forms.
I like the idea of this character, and I like where you chose to start the story. I also like the progression of the fragment, how you incorporate the strokes and medicines and doctors without resorting to an infodump.
I don't think that you need, "He had known it would come for years now," You can just start, "One small stroke..."
There aren't too many stories with 78 year old protagonists. This is refreshing in that regard. My hope, and this is a big one, is that the balance of the story is going to concern the man's life, not necessarily his past, but his present life, and the possibilities for dignity for an older dying man.
[This message has been edited by Tanglier (edited June 14, 2006).]
I suggest you might hint at a relationship he has. (Or note that he has none.) Some son or daughter? A wife, or a late wife? Not to say you must do that in the first 13.
On the 'time left to live question', I have personal experience to put in here, with respect to this subject. Not to yank spasmodically at everyone's sympathy strings, but I myself am supposedly predestined to fertilize daffodils *very soon* according to my doctors; in point of fact, one physician's assistant of mine is flabbergasted that I still have the unmitigated gall to draw breath enough to put up silly posts on writerly websites, and not just keel over and give up the ghost already like a polite fellow. My kidneys and heart are about as shot as old apartment buildings in one of your more particularly roughshod parts of downtown Baghdad, according to the white-coated cabal o' mine that call themselves 'doctors'. On my original diagnosis, given to me about 2 years ago, I was given anywhere from 6 months to 1 year to live. And in fact, in real life, I learned that doctors are *very* hesitant to pin down an exact timeframe for a terminal patient. No two doctors will tell you the same thing; it's not like there's some odometer in your belly, with a years:months:days digital readout like some Casio chronometer that'll instantly tell them how long you in fact have left. It's mostly guesswork. The truth his, it mostly has to do with what's going on in your head...if you give up the will to live, that belly-chronometer of yours suddenly starts shedding numbers like dead skin flakes and you keel over like *that* <snapping fingers>. Something to keep in mind, if you are writing a story where your MC is terminal.
Just my twain farthings worth, you understand. It's good that we have up this thread; peeps need to see a Frags & Feeds example that receives accolades, to give an idea of what people are looking for in a story start.
Also, the very end didn't make sense to me:
>and felt so good because he could<
Was he glad he could hold hands while he was young? And if so, why--I mean that's something that most people wouldn't think about. Or is he thinking back and being glad he could hold hands with someone in particular? Maybe if that whole sentence was more personal it would work better for me--if you named someone instead of saying "another human being's hand".
Great start. If you still want a reader, I'd like to take a look.
I agree with the issue about saying he felt so good because he could hold someone's hand, in large part because it's sort of a POV violation (I think.) After all, we are talking about Robert's self as a young man, and what young man EVER sits around thinking, "Boy it feels good to hold someone's hand because I CAN." (No, a young man is more likely to be planning what he's going to get to hold NEXT.) If you clarify that his "feel good" is an experience happening in his 78-year old self, I think that would clear up any misunderstandings.
Other than that, the rest looks good.
But, yeah, it needs to be clarified.
Robert O’Conner was dying.
He had known it would come for years now, as one small stroke followed the next, his heart died away in pieces and the number of drugs he took for his condition increased exponentially.
He was still lucid and he could read between the doctor’s pleasant phrases and the nurses encouraging tones that something was very wrong with him indeed. He knew this stroke would be his last.
It wasn’t unexpected. He was 78 after all. If it wasn’t this it’d be something else, but he had rather hoped he’d make it to spring again. That was how he had held out for so long, grabbing on to see spring again. Spring was when the trees were green, birds sang and couples held hands. He would just sit in the park
[This message has been edited by Kathleen Dalton Woodbury (edited June 21, 2006).]
quote:
He knew this stroke would be his last.
Shouldn't it be "he knew the next stroke would be his last" or is he having a stroke as the narration starts? If he is having a stroke, I might like that fact to be a bit clearer.
This reminds me a lot of my uncle. He died from his 5th heart attack Jan 4, 2004. His first heart attack was when he was 37. He was only 56 when he died. After that first heart attack, if you asked him what he wanted for his birthday, he'd say "To live to my next one." He was having heart problems for about 1-2 months before he died and knew the last heart attack was imminent. Not wanting everyone to worry, he didn't tell us about the tremors. Anyway . . .
So this rings pretty true with me. When you are looking for readers, count me in.
"Robert O’Conner was dying. One small stroke followed the next, his heart died away in pieces and the number of drugs he took increased exponentially."
Sounds better.