# Private Kinley -- 444 wds(Language)



## Wessik (Oct 8, 2012)

*Private Kinley -- 444 wds(Mature)*

Seargent Gurn hopped from one encrusted dune to another, following private Kinley who stood nearby. The surface of the Gulch Basin was, essentially, a mottled mess of calcite encrusted sand dunes, each one no larger than a storage shack. Between the dunes ran the countless shallow streams of the Gulch-Death sea, an ocean of concentrated molten salt and sulfur. They made camp on this latest dune, which consisted mostly of lying on the ground and chewing sub-standard Serbian vodka gum.


The sun would be setting in about ten minutes, but already things were getting dark. Night on Chronos lasted sixty-four hours, and daytime lasted six. Where one was bright and hot, the other was cold and dark. Lying on their backs, their eyes faced up at the smoke-haze-sky. From bright, brownish cream, it turned to deepest red maroon, an ugly muddy mocha, and then, a stark and lifeless black.


"Private?"


"Sir, yes Sir."


"Do you know why we were given this mission, private?"


A moment passed, "Sir. Yes Sir."


"And what is that reason, Private?" Seargent Gurn asked. The air grew thick, like butter. Private Kinley hesitated. "I asked you a question, Private!"


"We kill each other out here, Sir!" Kinley shouted. He had been uneasy before, but with the words his stomach twisted into shit. Bile came up and gagged him and his chest began to hurt. The private's eyes shifted from side to side, trying to pick out any sign of movement. Seargent Gurn could have been fondling his dick in front of Kinley's face and the private wouldn't have known. Sweat began to slide down Kinley's neck and arms, and made him itch and squirm.


"You may be worth something after all, Kinley." They had found no enemy formation, no enemy camps or lines. No one had been at extraction, and the radio was out of range. Hell, even the compass spun around like a drunken whore surrounded by cocks. Kinley couldn't help but smile at the image. He had a girl, a real fuck-doll, back on Raiden. Her picture was on him. A slutty little number that served to motivate him to stay alive. But only served a fat lot of good right now.


"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Kinley queried, but there was no reply. He strained his ears and heard nothing at all. Drawing his knife out of its holster, the soldier rose to a crouch, but only met three hundred and sixty degrees of black. "Stay calm..." Kinley whispered. "He can't see or hear you either."


"So. Shall we begin?" Private Kinley stood perfectly still.


"After you. Sir."


----------



## FleshEater (Oct 8, 2012)

That was awesome. I wish I had technical critiques but it appears damn near flawless. I like how this is in the future on an alien planet and the foulness of the military is almost doubled; imitating our current trend of moral and ethical degradation. 

You stay true to Poe's idea of a short story...get the point across haha!


----------



## Wessik (Oct 8, 2012)

FleshEater, you have no idea how much your comments mean to me. Despite my somewhat cool exterior, I am usually a nervous wreck when it comes time to showcase my work! Thank you is cliche, but I say it anyway, and I mean it. I am truly glad that you liked this. Thank you.


----------



## FleshEater (Oct 9, 2012)

It would be interesting to see this world carried over into a more in depth story too. I like the titles and the atmosphere; they're reminiscent of some places on earth but you make them just alien enough to set us in a familiar, but unknown realm.

I'd say with only 444 words you definitely don't waste a moment when telling a story!


----------



## GonneLights (Oct 9, 2012)

This is a really really great idea. I love _gritty _sci-fi, I like my science fiction with a bit of balls. And you get that here. But you *mope about *for a long time before it. You change voices a lot. It doesn't really... Work very well. I don't know, is it intentional? Like, the journey was stern and military and so shall be the first paragraph, the scenery is beautiful and languid and so shall be the second paragraph, and the people are foul and disgusting and so shall be the second paragraph. If it is, that's a great idea, but with that you either have to be very very subtle or very very extreme, and you just sound sort of... Unsure.

I think you should seriously consider your priorities. You start off with all that, like, manoeuvres, journeying. Nobody wants to read about people walking around. That's like, military journal stuff. Which might very well be an influence? But, you end that first paragraph on one of the best lines ever, "_lying on the ground and chewing sub-standard Serbian vodka gum." - _that's gorgeous! That's dirty, military, flippant. But you've got a kind of essay style for the rest of it, and it's kind of out of place. What I'D do - and, this is just a suggestion, but, I'd Cut Up the first two paragraphs with two techniques; In Media Res and Past Tense. For an example;

_"They made camp on the latest dune and were lying on the ground chewing sub-standard Serbian vodka gum. The sun would be setting in about ten minutes, but already things were getting dark. They had spent the last [x period of time] hopping the calcite-encrusted Sand Dunes of the Gulch Basin surface. The Gulch-Death sea was just an ocean of concentrated molten salt and sulfur and it run everywhere around them. Night on Chronos lasted Sixty-Four Hours where daytime lasted Six. Where one was bright and hot, the other was cold and dark. They looked up at the smoke-haze-sky. From bright, brownish cream, it turned to deepest red maroon, an ugly muddy mocha, and then, a stark and lifeless black. 

"Private."_

etc. Now, you might think that kinda sucks, and I get a lot of criticism for being too non-linear and nonsensical, so don't listen to TOO much of what I say because I want everyone to be sort of schizophrenic. But, you can see what I mean - you start me off with the picture of two soldiers hopping sand dunes. I don't know yet - anything about the soldiers, so I'm left to make up my own mind about them. I don't like soldiers, so, already I think they suck. That's not a good start. I don't know yet anything about what the dunes look like, so I'm basically picturing them on Cloughy Beach, half an hour from me, jumping around these sand-dunes like ridiculous assholes. So, I've got two people I don't particularly like doing something kind of stupid. _Then_ you go on to describe that they're actually like, indulgent alcoholics in a sort of psuedo-homoerotic relationship and they screw around and all this lovely subterranean stuff and I should love them, but it takes a long time to deconstruct that square image. You also unveil that the scenery is absolutely otherworldly and gorgeous and that the dunes are monolithic things and it's all some terrifying apocalyptic alien terrain, and that's a _fantastic and powerful _image. But it takes me a LONG time for that image to actually set - three re-reads, actually - and for the most part I'm imagining them hopping around tiny clumps of grass on the beach. 

Always remember the power of images. You've got a *fantastic *plot and two *fantastic *characters. Lets delve into that- the characterisation is amazing. I mean, when you go into the flippancy and vulgarity of the Private, and the, like I said, psuedo-homoerotic kind of thing between them, and the weird sprawl of their imaginations, and you've got them as very very army. I mean, they're really army. That's just great, when the characters actually come in - starting on that line 'sub-standard Serbian vodka gum' - those characters really came to life. And the plot! It winds out and it's sort of vague and left hanging and it's powerful and I go why why why why why at everything and it's a good why and it's gonna stick with me for days. That's _power. _It could be analysed on so many levels, from like, political satire, to metaphysical allegory, to just plain dirty militant sci-fi. It's great. And then, the way you paint the scenery, aaahhh. Once I actually got rid of the stupid images, it's just... Beautiful. Stark, haunting, bare. Really crazy and plain, barren. Terrifying heights, a dirged landscape. From the pictures et al I get a sense of danger in absolutely everything. And in that, that's personification, that's attention to detail. You're a skilled writer, and your skill spreads into almost every aspect of your writing, and it's such a rare thing. I mean, my talent is for description. But, that's _it, _the rest is skill. Description just pours out of me, I'm actually TIRED of the praise I get for my descriptiveness, it's almost an insult, now, because it lets me know how much I have to work on all the rest. But you! You! You've got talent in _all _of the areas of writing. Description, imagery, characterisation, character development, plot, originality. That's the best one, the last one. You're not really fresh yet, I'll be honest, but this time next year you'll be _hot, _that's my opinion. But yes, certainly original. And I can sense this natural talent, this real, raw, unhomed natural talent that you've got.

How long have you been writing for, by the way?

But, uhm... Yeah. You need to lift this from praise on internet forms to something people really are gonna be gripped by. There is this spark of something, some cosmic thing, that distinguishes fine polished literature from tapped keys in a bedroom. You get me? And, it doesn't necessarily make a piece of work quality, it doesn't reflect the authors talent or even skill, but at some point, with maturity and breadth of experience as a writer, you attain this strange cosmic thing that makes you into a real crafter of _art. _50 Shades of Grey has it, and it's just trash. But you read it, it's GOT it, whatever the hell it is, it has this spark of 'Yeah, this is a book.' Now, naturally, it so follows that what you've written, in all it's 444 word majesty, is *leagues *better than 50 Shades of Grey. That's almost a given. But, it doesn't have _that. _This short story, to me, is better than the entire Hunger Games series. I mean really, the whole thing, that they poured millions into, that has millions of fans and plagues tumblr dashes, etc., it's nowhere near as good as this. And yet, it, too, has that thing, whatever it is. And you're lacking it, and that's all. And you will attain it in time, and you'll sell millions, and you'll forget all about my overzealous critical analysis and you'll forget all about posting here, or whatever. But, that's what is missing, really. _Maturity, _writerly maturity. But don't worry about that. You can't sit down and say, 'I need to be MATURE about this', it just doesn't happen that way. You can't _decide _to be a mature writer, it just happens. And the route you're going down, _god, _you're five steps ahead of everyone else at your level.

I don't believe I have writerly maturity either, really. 

But anyway, I wanted to return to my original point. Here is my advice to you; PRECONCEPTIONS. Recognise preconceptions. The first word, here, is SERGEANT. Now, all this screams is 'ARMY GUY'. Every single person who reads your story has already made up their minds on army guys. I went to school with a bunch of potential army recruits, I saw the sour face of the recruiters, see their adverts on television every few days, and being an anarchist, have my own political opinions on the whole deal. And, especially, being from Northern Ireland, I have certain experiences with army men. So, I have this whole backdrop of imagery already. And I'm only 18! And you're starting with this preconception. Now, to you, you're keeping it all kinda vague and mysterious until you introduce these two cool, deep, swanky, complex dudes, who are gonna gun everyone down with their idiosyncrasies, or whatever. But you're not. Because we all already know what we think about them, because they're goddamn soldiers. We just think 'Soldiers.' That's it. 'Soldiers.' That's a strong image. You now have to work to deconstruct that image in all of our heads, our preconceived soldiers, over the course of 444 words, so that we get them.

You can avoid all that simply by starting us off with something that describes them perfect. My story - and this sounds like SUCH a plug, but I'm just using it as an example, honestly - my story The Haunt starts with the line 'Brigitte wasn't used to the opium.' That's all you need to know about Brigitte. I mean, that's basically Brigitte, in 5 words. Wasn't used to the opium. 'What did you think of Brigitte?' 'Oh, not used to the opium.' My mentor actually told me, I have a remarkable ability to come up with these sentences that are like, an entire Soap Opera in four words. I said to him one day, 'So, my lover's boyfriend...' and he said, 'Woah woah woah woah, hang on. I don't need to know the rest of the story, now. My Lover's Boyfriend. Three words. I've got the story.' and I cracked up. And, that is such good literary advice, too, when you think about it. Because if you're able to come up with opening sentences that express, basically, the entire story, you've got everyone, _already_ you've got everyone. With the start of a story, you want to GUT your readers. Everyone sort of ambles around with the introduction. They sort of go 'Eeehh... It was like, rainy, you know? And uh, there was, uh...' and it fizzles out, and I loose interest and I sort of think 'No, I'm just going to write a critique about this, I'm not going to actually read this.' and I don't.

If you STARTED with the image, 'chewing sub-standard Serbian vodka gum.', I'd have _adored_ this story tenfold, and I would have THAT image of the characters. And that line basically sums up these two bastards. I mean really, it does, doesn't it? Lying around on their ass with crap alcohol, being extremely serious. That's such a great image, and I LOVE those characters. The soldiers? Don't like 'em. Find them boring. The Vodka-Eaters? Adore them. Want to read their combined biographies. 

And then, afterwards, you move onto this gorgeous, stark, Lynchian imagery, and it's the most beautiful thing in the world. That's SHAKESPEAREAN, man. Shakespeare had every single aspect of the world's class system, in all of his works. From the poorest beggar to the noblest king. And, you've got that right here. Two scummy little vodka-eating squatties, and a vast, languid planet with rolling sky-forms and chthonic danger at every crag. Tiny lives, tiny pains - huge world, huge images. Tiny, huge. Juxtaposition. Perfect. 

*Amp *it. 

Also, a note on the swearing narrator. I _love_ it, and it's my favourite thing about this piece, but again, you need to amp it. Vulgarity, to become literature, has to be done to a death. You have to go balls to the walls with it. Adding 'shit' in the description doesn't make it vulgar, calling a girl a slut doesn't make it vulgar. But those images are great. 'He had a girl, a real fuck-doll, back in Raiden.' I mean... That's just GREAT. That's the best line in the whole piece of literature. But, I dunno if you're just trying to be in the Privates head here or whatever, but you have to really go out with that. Be casual but excessive. 'A drunken whore' was really good, 'surrounded by cocks' drew it out too much. That sounded like you were trying. Just breathe vulgarity. Breathe profanity, for these few paragraphs. You would do well to read stuff like 'Soft Machine' by William Burroughs, 'Trainspotting' by Irvine Welsh and 'Jazz Machine' by uh... By... Gee, I don't even know who wrote that. The Jazz Machine isn't actually swear-heavy or even particularly vulgar - it's only a fairly short poem, too, rather than a book - but it uses very dated jive-talk lingo in the same way, and it puts it in the narrative voice (which is albeit first person) in just the right casual but excessive way that I'm talking about. Lines like, 'He got in my mouth, he bothered me' and 'I had the weight that night' and 'like scumpteen other cellar drinkholes', it's constantly affirming and punctuating this glorious voice, this subversive vulgar voice. Burroughs does it to perfection in Soft Machine. Soft Machine is just a dystopian Sci-fi flick, basically, that conveys like... Venturing through a futuristic jungle and it's all about Mind Control and all that. But, it's written in just this... Disgusting, way. I uh... I'm trying to find an online copy of it so I can copy and paste a couple lines, but I can't. It's the perfect example of what I'm talking about, though. It's got great lines like 'made a fag three times under a shower spurted out jissom and anal mucus moved on to score for tea' etc. As if it's all nothing. That's how you need to approach vulgarity. Like it's _nothing. _It just feels kind of forced. But, I get the feeling this was just a tentative sort of thing? And, you'll get used to that style, the more you do it. 

But anyway, no. I love this, I really do. Today, when I got home, I was actually thinking, 'I really wanna find some more gritty sci-fi. Like, that really good sci-fi that isn't sucky sci-fi.' and then suddenly YOU come along and deliver it, as soon as I get online. I didn't expect that at all, actually... Huh... There's magick, in itself, there. I want gritty sci-fi, you just posted gritty sci-fi... Thanks for that, actually. But yeah, I dug it, I love it, and hopefully you don't think my criticism was too harsh, and that it puts you off, or nothing. You have the potential to be the best sci-fi writer of the 21st Century - in fact, you have the potential, now, to define the direction of 21st Century Science Fiction. You're going to be _hot, _on the scene, I can feel it. Keep at it, man.


----------



## Terry D (Oct 9, 2012)

> The sun would be setting in about ten minutes, but already things were getting dark. Night on Chronos lasted sixty-four hours, and daytime lasted six. Where one was bright and hot, the other was cold and dark. Lying on their backs, their eyes faced up at the smoke-haze-sky. From bright, brownish cream, it turned to deepest red maroon, an ugly muddy mocha, and then, a stark and lifeless black.




Good description of the change in the sky, but there's no way a planet would have a day/night cycle with such wildly different lengths.  The planet would have to slow down and speed up its rotational velocity to do that and that's not possible.


----------



## FleshEater (Oct 9, 2012)

Terry D said:


> Good description of the change in the sky, but there's no way a planet would have a day/night cycle with such wildly different lengths. The planet would have to slow down and speed up its rotational velocity to do that and that's not possible.[/COLOR]




It's 100 percent possible to have such varying degrees of light and dark. Alaska has one point of 24 hours of day light for a rather lengthy period of time and during those times the amount of darkness diminishes...thus creating two very drastic differences in night and day.

Not too mention that these are humans (for all we know) parading around unknown planets...doesn't that rule out all earthly logic anyways?


----------



## Wessik (Oct 9, 2012)

Karking Jack, you blew me away with your critique. It is clear to me that you invested a huge amount of time writing this critique, and I want to thank you for it. You've helped my ego a little bit. ;-) You asked me how long I've been writing. I have to say that any experience I have with actually producing prose is far outweighed by my experience reading and studying fiction and poetry. It is important for me to communicate effectively in my writing. This had the effect of myself producing no work for a long time, in favor of study. Given this, it is interesting that you pointe out a kind of immaturity in my work. I agree, for sure, but I fully intend to rectify that disadvantate. 

Terry D, you caught it! Aah! Lol, I knew that such imbalance in night and day cycles was impossible, but had the misfortune of using that concept as a crucial plot device. I'm just gonna say...ehr...look! A squirrel!

Also, flesheater, thanks for defending me, but I have to take my licks. Ah...


----------



## FleshEater (Oct 9, 2012)

I wouldn't consider it as much of a defense as I would a pointing out of the imbalance that exists here on earth concerning night and day. On Chronos, the planet would not suffer extremely different solstices but would rather linger in one solstice constantly, thus creating such a varied, constant imbalance of night and day. I'm sure everyone in Alaska would be much happier if they're state remained in the summer solstice year long ha-ha!


----------



## GonneLights (Oct 9, 2012)

Nice avoiding giving me an answer there  But yeah, that makes sense. It is, perhaps, this great excess of knowledge that lends to your greatness, and the next few years will just be putting it all into place and developing it. Input and output. I like that... 

Also, on the night-day issue. Making Sense in the sci-fi genre isn't necessarily important. There are two schools in Sci-Fi, and always have been: Those that are heinously scientifically accurate and appeal to the scientific reader, and those that are heinously scientifically inaccurate and appeal to the generally crazy reader. Being impossible, in literature, isn't necessarily a deterrent, but the sci-fi writer will be constantly under attack from all angles for anything he does, really. It's going to happen forever, so...


----------



## Wessik (Oct 9, 2012)

O.O

Flesheater, I will tell you that I had not considered that. Wow.

Karkingjack, If you really want to know how long I've been writing, it should be noted that I only count actual composition time, when I'm actually on my duff hammering things out. A month and a half should be about accurate.


----------



## GonneLights (Oct 9, 2012)

LOL, you're a wily one, you are. You're a damn _writer, _​you are.


----------



## brianhoneycutt (Oct 10, 2012)

Thought this was well-written, for the most part. I guess my question is, what is the intent of your story? Just to produce excitement? I think your depiction of the military could be somewhat accurate, but I wonder, for myself, what the redeeming value of the tale is. But, could just not be my style. 

I really like the description of the sky, however.


----------



## Wessik (Oct 10, 2012)

Brianhoneycutt, when I am writing a story, a moral is the furthest thing from my mind. The primary intent with all my writing is to be interesting first, instructive second. Thank you for reading and commenting, though! I greatly appreciate it!


----------



## brianhoneycutt (Oct 10, 2012)

fair enough! To each their own  Thanks for sharing your writing. One thing I was a bit confused about is, at the end of the tale, I am assuming Private Kinley is squaring off against some alien lifeform or enemy of some sort? I mention this because it wasn't clear to me reading the story. But maybe it would be with the other sections of the story/book.

cheers,
Brian


----------



## FleshEater (Oct 10, 2012)

It was the seargent he was taking on.


----------



## Terry D (Oct 10, 2012)

FleshEater said:


> It's 100 percent possible to have such varying degrees of light and dark. Alaska has one point of 24 hours of day light for a rather lengthy period of time and during those times the amount of darkness diminishes...thus creating two very drastic differences in night and day.
> 
> Not too mention that these are humans (for all we know) parading around unknown planets...doesn't that rule out all earthly logic anyways?



Not to take the thread off track, but the 'midnight sun' experienced here on Earth is a seasonal effect caused by the the planet's tilt and its orbit around the sun.  It's an imbalance which happens over time as the Earth orbits the Sun, the Earth still rotates once per day.  The day night cycle as described in the story is a product of the planet's rotation.  All planets, anywhere in the universe, will be subject to the same physical laws that govern their rotation.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled critiques...


----------



## Bowl (Oct 10, 2012)

Its a very well put together story for its length, Thumbs up for the sky description.

Not to go into what other people have said, but if you were going to revise it fix the light and dark times of the planet; It is very unrealistic.

The only other thing that really stuck out, was how is it so dark that the private cannot see. A normal camp site, not matter where you and when not in enemy territory, has a light source when night hits. Plus if the environment is like how you describe it here, "Between the dunes ran the countless shallow streams of the Gulch-Death sea, an ocean of concentrated molten salt and sulfur", this would suggest that their is extreme heat. This would also make me believe that it is at least giving off a faint glow, So the private could at least make out basic surroundings at the end. So he could at least seen if "Seargent Gurn could have been fondling his dick in front of Kinley's face".

Also, I do not understand the following "He had been uneasy before, but with the words his stomach twisted into shit. Bile came up and gagged him and his chest began to hurt." Is he choking from poison, even if he is not dying, how is he not having dry heaves or throwing up. It seem like a really small part that was quickly over looked, and how you have described your story i would expect you to go into more detail on what he does when the bile comes up, after all no one would normally lie their and take it.

I do want to note, that how you describe the story is great. Its a really short story, so most of what is happening/has happened is all in the description. Which you do the perfect amount of, because description is a delicate matter that to much can often drag a story out and bore readers, and to little cannot pull a person in to enjoy the story.


----------



## Jagunco (Oct 11, 2012)

Im mildly curious as to why they're killing each other I must admit, though it doesn't detract from the story in fact it makes it more interesting that I want to know something and don't.

On a completely personal level I saw why you put the 'sir yes sir' in (well I think I did) and it served it purpose but it struck me as odd when many moons ago I was a lowly artillery gunner and on a first name basis with most sergeant staff/colour sergeants, lol. If you called them sir you got sworn at and told 'I work for a living!' as nothing less than a Warran Office (Sergeant Major) got called sir.

Don't know if it works that way in america. Also again don't think I'm critisizing your story it was great I just thought if you write another military one you might like to know stuff like that. 

Other than that I liked the foul language, gave it a good feeling. I didn't see the change of language untill it was mentioned so I don't consider it much of a problem to myself reading it, I would be interested how the private would describe it however   (hot and horny as the devils blistered arse after a sauna) 

Yeah on the whole 9/10 for me


----------



## Winston (Oct 29, 2012)

As others have noted, your descriptions of the planet are vivid and rich.  There is one problem I have with that.  It seems, to me, to detract from the characters.
The good news is that it's an easy fix.  I wouldn't even introduce either of them 'till after a few sentences of your descriptive scene setting.  Then, fold them into the scene.  While the dialog paints a fair picture of the men, I think we need a better visual of them.

Oh, and a nit-pick:  Knives are drawn from scabbards or sheaths, not holsters.  

I hope you plan on building on this.  It's a good foundation.


----------



## Penpusher (Nov 4, 2012)

Hi Wessik, Very nice short-short.  Lots of Very visual details.  I like the way you use words to paint the scene.  It would help me to get deeper into a story if other senses are also brought in.  For example hot sulfur is really stinky and if salt is molten the whole area would be painfully hot.  What are the streams filled with?  Calcite suggests water and steam and steam where the water hits the hot ocean.  If liquid sulfur how can they breath the air. Respirators?  Perhaps some more detail on their discomfort.  

The story moved so fast for me it was over far too soon.  I look forward to your revision.


----------



## QFMD (Nov 4, 2012)

loved this.  Really totally loved it - only one bit irked a little and that was the 





> Hell, even the compass spun around like a drunken whore surrounded by cocks.


  Profanity, vulgarity doesn't bother me,  just think thats alittle overkill, maybe.


----------

