2112

A Story by Richard White

Gregory was in Exeter cathedral. Julie was there admiring some piece of art. Julie was Gregory's only sister. Gregory decided not to mention the Eurovision song contest to Julie. Not there. Not in Exeter cathedral. He knew the song to be delivered by Ollie Alexander was not known. This annoyed Harrison.
'Surprised to see you here,' said Julie. 'Been on the streets.'
'I visited Graham,' said Gregory. 'He was out of his head on beer. As usual. No work?'
'Week off, ducks.'
She was two years younger.
'Started- this cathedral- 1112. Easy enough to remember, Julie.'
She was wearing a black beret, amber tights, crimson pumps.
'At least it wasn't 2112,' said Julie. 'That would be in the future.'
2112 by Rush. Singer Geddy Lee. Julie had seen Lee talk about his book- from his book, also- in Wolverhampton. She thought it was a Sunday. December the 10th. She'd check. The civic at the halls, Wolverhampton.
'Detroit Lions through to the super bowl in Las Vegas,' said Gregory.
'This is Exeter cathedral, you bloody idiot. I don't want a brother of mine into American football. Read about Stilton cheese.'
'I had some,' said Gregory. 'In Plymouth. Gorgeous with a nice can of beer.'
'What were you doing in Plymouth? Isn't that the enemy team down here in Exeter?'
He didn't answer. He thought of his mobile. Of a message.
'Some loon sent a message. Calls himself Crazy Mister. On about Jack fort this, Jack Fort that. Jack Fort the river was dry. How he pronounces it. What's he going on about?'
Julie told her brother about Skive Factor, a Canadian guitarist researching an American singer into- perhaps bizarrely- captured aliens.
They had teas and cakes. He admired his sister's breasts there in the small, tidy café. Brother Bob has threatened Gregory through to illness. Greg was not to bed his glamorous sister. Rain was irritating the shoppers in Exeter. Gregory noticed Alan Parks, the group's keyboardist way back. Gregory despised all music from Debussy to Dexy's Midnight Runners. There was some money in it. Music. Writing music. Playing music. It was all inhumane, really. There was inhumanity everywhere.

© 2024 Richard White

Author's Note

Is 'ducks' appropriate?

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JayG

You're writing it as a report, not a story. Every sentence is declarative, and a transcription of the author talking to the reader, who, unlike you, has not a clue of the emotion to place into the words as they read.

But story isn't what happens, it's what the events cause the protagonist to do, presented in a way that makes the reader feel they're living the events as they read, not hearing about them secondhand. But you have no protagonist that the reader is aware of.

You include things like, "She was two years younger." But younger than what, or who? No way to tell, and your intent doesn't make it to the page. But over and above that, since we know nothing about the other person, who cares if she's two years younger than an unknown number?

There's a LOT to writing fiction that's not obvious. They offer degree programs in Commercial Fiction Writing, after all. Would they do that if the report-writing skills we're given in school worked? Of course not.

Sad but true: To write fiction we must become a fiction writer. No way around that and there are no shortcuts.

Did any of your teachers mention the short-term scene-goal, and what it does? How about the three things we must address quickly on entering any scene, or, something basic, like why they end in disaster?

If not, and you don't truly understand what a scene is and does, how can you write one?

A good place to begin acquiring the necessary skills is Debra Dixon's, GMC: Goal Motivation & Conflict. You can read or download it on the archive site I linked to below. And, it's currently free. So give it a try.

Jay Greenstein
Articles: https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/the-grumpy-old-writing-coach/
Videos: https://www.youtube.com/@jaygreenstein3334