The Call to Darkness

A Chapter by Scott Kimak

The loss of a man's family causes him to drift into darkness...

I look at my wife, and I see my own reflection in her eyes. I see fear on my face. I see pain. My wife turns to liquid and melts away from my hands. Quickly, I look at my daughter and start to run toward her. Every step is like quicksand, and no matter how hard I try I can’t get any closer. She opens the shelter door and starts to scream. I feel the pain absorb me. It cuts into my bones and tears my soul away. A path opens to my right drenched in darkness. It calls to me, and I know that if I take it my pain will be gone forever. I also know that if I take it, my memories of my family will be lost forever. I try to fight it, but I can’t endure the pain. I am too weak. I have failed them. I choose the dark path…..

next chapter

© 2019 Scott Kimak

My Review

Would you like to review this Chapter?
Login | Register

Reviews

Robert Trakofler

boom that was a grabbing start I like it

Posted 4 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

4 Years Ago

Thank you!!!

Coyote Poetry

A very good introduction. You create place, poor decision and a possibility of a great tale. No wasted words. Thank you for sharing part of your story.
Coyote

Posted 4 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

4 Years Ago

Thank you!!!

4 Years Ago

You are welcome Scott.

JayG

Were this part of a query to an agent or publisher, this is where the rejection would come. I hate to be the bearer of such news, but I thought you would want to know.

When you read this it makes perfect sense—but only because knowing the story and the situation before you wrote the first word, the words have context.

Look at it from a reader's viewpoint—one who knows only what the words suggest, based on their background, not your intent.

• I look at my wife, and I see my own reflection in her eyes.

Everyone can. So why does a reader care that this person can, if we don't know why it matters to him? This line is a discussion of visual detail, presented in a medium that reproduces neither sound nor vision. And since we don't know what the one seeing the reflection looks like it gives no mental picture, just a declaration of fact, given for no known purpose.

• I see fear on my face.

What can this mean to someone who has not the slightest idea of who this person is, where they are in time and space, or what's going on? The next sentence is just as meaningless. Added to that, and given the intense situation, no sane human would be focused on their reflection.

As an exercise, pick someone and try to see a reflection on their eyes that will show your mood. Then think of how intently you had to focus on the reflection to learn that. No way in hell will your protagonist—in that situation—be wasting time admiring his reflection

• My wife turns to liquid and melts away from my hands.

Seriously? The woman turns and splashes to the floor? And he doesn't shout, "Holy s**t!" in response.

Never having has anyone turn to liquid on me, I have not the faintest idea of what this, or the rest of the opening means. You know. The people in the story know. But the reader, the one you wrote this for? They're in the dark. And if you're hoping it will hook them into reading on to learn more, confusion isn't a hook. Confuse a reader for a line and they're gone.

And the approach, that of assuming that the reader holds an image of what's being commented on, doesn't change in the following chapters because you're writing about what you visualize, without giving the reader that visualization. So for the reader, it's someone unknown speaking about things for which the reader has no context. And unlike you, they can't hear emotion in the narrator's voice.

The problem is that in our school days we learn only nonfiction writing skills to prepare us for employment. The techniques of writing fiction, because it's a profession are learned IN ADDITION to our schooldays skills.

We're not, for example, taught why a scene on the page differs so drastically from one on the screen. Nor are we taught what the elements of a scene are. And without knowing that, how can we write one? If we try to write fiction with nonfiction tools, and a lack of knowledge of the profession, we can't. It doesn't matter how hard we try, or how sincere we are. It doesn't even matter how much talent we have if that talent is untrained.

So the solution is obvious. Add the skills of fiction to the nonfiction skills you already own. And for that, the library's fiction-writing section can be a huge resource.

Posted 4 Years Ago

Were this part of a query to an agent or publisher, this is where the rejection would come. I hate to be the bearer of such news, but I thought you would want to know.

When you read this it makes perfect sense—but only because knowing the story and the situation before you wrote the first word, the words have context.

Look at it from a reader's viewpoint—one who knows only what the words suggest, based on their background, not your intent.

• I look at my wife, and I see my own reflection in her eyes.

Everyone can. So why does a reader care that this person can, if we don't know why it matters to him? This line  is a discussion of visual detail, presented in a medium that reproduces neither sound nor vision. And since we don't know what the one seeing the reflection looks like it gives no mental picture, just a declaration of fact, given for no known purpose.

•   I see fear on my face.

What can this mean to someone who has not the slightest idea of who this person is, where they are in time and space, or what's going on? The next sentence is just as meaningless. Added to that, and given the intense situation, no sane human would be focused on their reflection.

As an exercise, pick someone and try to see a reflection on their eyes that will show your mood. Then think of how intently you had to focus on the reflection to learn that. No way in hell will your protagonist—in that situation—be wasting time admiring his reflection

• My wife turns to liquid and melts away from my hands.

Seriously? The woman turns and splashes to the floor? And he doesn't shout, "Holy shit!" in response.

Never having has anyone turn to liquid on me, I have not the faintest idea of what this, or the rest of the opening means. You know. The people in the story know. But the reader, the one you wrote this for? They're in the dark. And if you're hoping it will hook them into reading on to learn more, confusion isn't a hook. Confuse a reader for a line and they're gone.

And the approach, that of assuming that the reader holds an image of what's being commented on, doesn't change in the following chapters because you're writing about what you visualize, without giving the reader that visualization. So for the reader, it's someone unknown speaking about things for which the reader has no context. And unlike you, they can't hear emotion in the narrator's voice.

The problem is that in our school days we learn only nonfiction writing skills to prepare us for employment. The techniques of writing fiction, because it's a profession are learned IN ADDITION to our schooldays skills.

We're not, for example, taught why a scene on the page differs so drastically from one on the screen. Nor are we taught what the elements of a scene are. And without knowing that, how can we write one? If we try to write fiction with nonfiction tools, and a lack of knowledge of the profession, we can't. It doesn't matter how hard we try, or how sincere we are. It doesn't even matter how much talent we have if that talent is untrained.

So the solution is obvious. Add the skills of fiction to the nonfiction skills you already own. And for that, the library's fiction-writing section can be a huge resource.

Rating /100