Hatrack River Writers Workshop: Death: Warmed Over

This is topic Death: Warmed Over - readers wanted in forum Fragments and Feedback for Short Works at Hatrack River Writers Workshop.

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Posted by Jesse D (Member # 3241) on :

This is a story I wrote some time ago (years ago) and have had posted the first thirteen for comment before. However, it has undergone massive changes since that time, including a change in the ending. I'd appreciate readers: I'm on the verge of shopping it around to different venues, so anyone whose interest in piqued and would like to invest their time in reading on, I'd appreciate it.

Death was the first thing I saw when I entered the bar. He was at the slot machines by the restroom door, plugging quarters into the slot and muttering to himself through his fleshless jaws. He was clothed in a tattered, black cowl, dusty with age and decay; his sickle leaned blade-upwards against the wall beside him.
Seeing the Grim Reaper playing the slots disconcerted me, but I needed a phone, and badly. My car had broken down, and I hadn't had cell reception since driving through Hawthorne. Under any other circumstances I probably would have left immediately, but at this point I took Death’s presence as one more display in the parade of oddity my day had become.
It was an August night in the Nevada desert, and the dusky...

Posted by Merlion-Emrys (Member # 7912) on :

Ok, I have to read this one. It may take me a few days as I'm hard at work on the story you just commented on, but I'd like to have a look.

Posted by Jon Ruyle (Member # 5943) on :

I'll read if you like.
Jon.

Posted by AWSullivan (Member # 8059) on :

I'm game. Send it on over.

Anthony

Posted by Dude (Member # 1957) on :

This sounds interesting. I wouldn't mind reading, but you didn't post how long it was. What's the word count?

Posted by snapper (Member # 7299) on :

For some reason I keep thinking this would have more appeal of you reordered what you wrote.

quote:
It was an August night in the Nevada desert

This is a great scene setter. I get an idea of the narrator's mood without him even saying another word just by describing this hot, dry location.

quote:
Seeing the Grim Reaper playing the slots disconcerted me, but I needed a phone, and badly. My car had broken down, and I hadn't had cell reception since driving through Hawthorne. Under any other circumstances I probably would have left immediately, but at this point I took Death’s presence as one more display in the parade of oddity my day had become.

A great way to lead into the rest of the story. He see's the Grim Reaper but he has more important things to worry about, at the moment.

quote:
Death was the first thing I saw when I entered the bar.

This would need a little reworking
I saw Death when I entered the bar

quote:
He was at the slot machines by the restroom door, plugging quarters into the slot and muttering to himself through his fleshless jaws. He was clothed in a tattered, black cowl, dusty with age and decay; his sickle leaned blade-upwards against the wall beside him.

I like this here. This description of the Reaper a makes me wonder about him and I am eager on what happens next.
A little rearranging I think you have a great hook going.

[This message has been edited by snapper (edited June 28, 2008).]

Posted by JCarroll (Member # 8061) on :

I'd love to read the rest of this story.

A couple of comments on your thirteen:

1) Why are you using so many adjectives to describe what the Grim Reaper looks like? Doesn't everyone already assume that he's a skeleton in a black robe unless you tell them otherwise? I think this passage would be more effective if you either described what the robe smells like (grave dirt, rotting meat, flowers) or if you give him a new outfit (biker's jacket, Armani suit, black tank top and jeans).

2) I think it would be better to mention that the narrator is having a weird day before he walks in and sees Death.

Posted by Stagecoach (Member # 7875) on :

A couple of thoughts:

muttering to himself How do you know Death was muttering to himself? Perhaps just saying that the was muttering or mumbling? Let us wonder about his muttering.

The description of Death sounds a bit contrived. You stop the story's progress to insert a physical description. How about something like "I knew it was Death by the tattered, black cowl that was dusty with age and decay. However, the sythe was the real give away." Incidentally, Death is generally identified with a sythe which is a long handled blade for cutting grain. A sickle is a short handled cutting implement with a curved blade.

I will take a look at your story, if you want to shoot it over.

Posted by Badger (Member # 3490) on :

Hmmmm. What Snapper said, plus Stagecoach is right about the scythe rather than a sickle.

That said, I'm hooked, and would like to read the rest. Feel free to send it over.

Posted by Jesse D (Member # 3241) on :

The word count's at about 7900 words. Thanks for all the interest in this story; I've just emailed it out to all who asked. Nice catch on the sickle/scythe difference; I've always just used them interchangeably. I'll make that modification right away.