# monologue (needs title)



## fantasy girl (May 10, 2009)

hi, this is the first monologue i have ever written so please tell me if ots any good, hopefully my grammer is better in this as i have figured out how to turn the grammer check on on my computer so here it goes.


monologue

Woman sits center stage on a Daybed in the bedroom
she is holding a teddy-bear with a box of chocolates next to her​
Some people say “he's the love of my life” or “I can't live without him” but they are just exaggerating. I said those things when I was their age but it's not true. When it happened, yes I was upset, and yes I was angry but I learned to live with my feelings and got on with my life.
It was a beautiful sunny day when it happened. We had just got up and we were getting ready to go to the beach. “Tabby,” he called, “ where are you?” at that point I was I the garden, picking some lettuce for the salad we were taking with us. “I'm in the garden dear, wont be a minuet” I replied. 
Shortly after, we left for the beach, as I said, it was a beautiful day, the sun was high and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was a scenic drive, going past fields, forests, and stables; then in-front of us there was a perfect horizon, a crystal blue sea with the odd dolphin jumping out of the water. I thought we were in paradise.
As we got closer to the sea the smell of salt water made me rather thirsty so we stopped off to get a drink and a bite to eat at the local café before taking a long walk across the promenade. While walking, somehow we started talking about life, and who was getting what in our wills. I was so surprised when he brought this subject up as he refused to talk about it any other time, it was odd.
On our walk we found a small semi-closed off part of beach, the sand was golden-brown and felt warm under our feet. It slipped through our toes like a snake, there was not a child in sight and all we could here was the peaceful sound of the waves crashing on the shore line.
We sat down with our salads and sandwiches on our laps and started eating. Soon after, John (that was his name) fell asleep so I got my book out and started reading. I cant for the life of me remember what the book was called but it was about a tomboy that lives with her sisters and longs to be a writer. I believe it was by Louisa May Alcott, little women, thats what it was. 
While I was reading I felt the wind pick up so I looked at the sky and saw a big black cloud rolling in, I woke up John and we walked back to the car. The drive back wasn't so scenic, the wind was blowing and it had started raining rather heavily. Then ahead, we saw a man, loose control of his car. He was swerving all over the place, we tried to avoid him but our fate was sealed, then, crash, he hit us. 
John and I were both knocked unconscious but I was told a witness phoned an ambulance. When in the hospital, I was treated for minor cuts and bruises, then taken into the family room. I new this meant bad news, I had seen it on television. But I didn't say anything. I was in there for about an hour before I had the strength to ask where John was. They said he had been taken into theater as he had a shard of metal in his side, but they could fix it, but no matter how much the nurses reassured me, I knew he wasn't going to make it. 
I don't know why I felt that way, but I did, and I felt horrid for thinking that but as soon as one of the nurses came in the room, with a tear in their eye, I knew I was right. Before she even told me the news I was in tears. Screaming for it to be a lie, for her to have got it wrong then the dreaded words came out of her mouth “ I'm sorry madam, but he didn't make it” 
“no, no, this can't be, you said he was going to be fine, you said he was going to make it. You lied to me” I started crying, louder and louder. He was dead, my lovely John, was, dead.
It's been 4 years now, since, he, well passed away. Whenever someone mentions his name, or shows me a photo with him in it, I still teared up. But thats natural.
So here I am telling you my story. Still missing my John. Maybe some day, I will forget the bad time, and only remember the good. But thats not now.


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## Like a Fox (May 10, 2009)

Well little miss, you’ve really given me some work. 
I wasn’t going to critique this because I think it’s important to find things you like in a piece of work, to help the writer improve it. I’m not here to hurt you, but there is not much in this. It is really just the skeleton of a story at this point. 

Your beginning does not link very well with your ending. I see what you were trying to do but the message ends up being clumsy. Your dialogue is not very believable (eavesdrop more often. It is a great tool when you write), you really need to improve your spelling and grammar before you post. (Spell check is not enough! Learn. You will forever be glad that you did.)

Paragraphing would be good too, and we don’t have a very good sense of either character, which makes it hard to care about the story. Sometimes it just takes a single line to make a character relatable. I am not here to destroy you though. I will do what I can to help. I’ll go through and do a bit of a copy edit, make some suggestions.





A woman sits on a daybed in her bedroom: Center Stage.
She is holding a teddy-bear with a box of chocolates next to her​

Some people say “he's the love of my life” or “I can't live without him” but they are just exaggerating. – *Already you’ve lost half the audience. Your opening line, especially in a dramatic monologue, needs to really grab the reader’s attention.*

*I would say:*
_You know how when women are in love they say “I couldn’t live without him?” Isn’t it funny how we exaggerate?_
_(This isn’t necessarily much better, but it’s clearer and says the same thing in a conversational tone)_

I said those things when I was their age but it's not true. When it happened, yes I was upset, and yes I was angry but I learned to live with my feelings and got on with my life. – *Don’t say “When I was their age,” It doesn’t make for a very believable older woman. I don’t believe those sort of things are a mark of immaturity based on age.*

_I have felt the same in my life, I’ve said such things. Haven’t we all? But to say you can’t live without someone is simply not true. When I lost someone, when it happened to me, well of course I was upset. I was devastated. I felt anger as I had never felt it before. But life goes on. You learn to live with your feelings, and as one day ends, another begins._

It was a beautiful sunny day when it happened. We had just got up and we were getting ready to go to the beach. “Tabby,” he called, “ where are you?” at that point I was I the garden, picking some lettuce for the salad we were taking with us. “I'm in the garden dear, wont be a minuet” I replied. *– If you’re going to do a dramatic monologue you should definitely read it out loud. And while you’re writing it, think about the way you would tell someone how you had a conversation, in real life. *

*EG:*

*Lucy called me before to tell me that she had a wonderful birthday and that it wouldn’t have been the same without me. *

*Is better than.*

*”Hello lucy” I said when Lucy called me, “Hello Kath” she said. “What are you up to?” I asked. “Nothing much” She replied, “I just wanted to tell you” she continued “ How great my birthday was,” *

*(If you don’t know what I’m trying to say, read both of those out loud, and think about which one would sound more normal if you were talking to a friend at school)*

_How were we to know that that beautiful morning would turn into such an ugly day? Having slept in, we lazily made coffee and toast before getting ready for the beach. Every mundane moment of that day is etched into my memory. While I was out in the garden, collecting lettuce from our vegetable patch to go in our picnic salad, I heard his velvet voice call my name. “Where are you my love?” _

_I think about all the things I said to him. “I’m in the garden dear, I won’t be a minute,” Why did I have to say that? Why didn’t I tell him I loved him and that we should stay in for the day, where he would be mine forever._

*I added a bit in there. It was all a bit choppy before. I also added an element to the story. She is reliving this day because it was her last one with him. You need to make that clear. It also makes the “I’m in the garden dear”, no longer pointless, which it was before.*



I’m sorry I’ve only gotten part of the way through this (barely)… but it is bed time in Australia. Thought I would post some of it, and you could have a look at that much today. See if you can apply some of it to the rest. If I’ve been too critical, let me know and I won’t worry with the rest… If you want me to do the rest I certainly will.


I will just say one thing. It is important to write what you know. I know it is also important to use your imagination. But you need to make it real for the reader. You have not created a very believable couple here. Or MC. You need to think about how she would feel about this. Someone she loves, died. When you’re in a relationship that person becomes, pretty well the most important person in your life. It is different to family, it’s different to friends. You choose this person, and they choose you, exclusively. And you feel things no writer has ever truly been able to capture. You share everything. Now imagine losing that. At your age, that’s a bit heavy. 

So instead, use your own experiences to enrich your writing. When have you lost something or someone and it felt like the world would end? Even just take something small and amplify those feelings. Often the fundamentals of any emotion are the same, they just intensify.


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## fantasy girl (May 10, 2009)

thanks fox, i will take all this into concideration and would love for you to post more.


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## fantasy girl (May 14, 2009)

*revised version!!!*

*Hi everyone, I have had another look at the piece and this is what I have come up with*​

Woman sits center stage on a Daybed in the bedroom​ she is holding a teddy-bear with a box of chocolates next to her​ ​ Some women when there in love say “Oh he's the love of my life” but isn't it funny how much of an exaggeration that is. I have felt the same in my life, I’ve said those things. We all have, haven't we? But to say you can’t live without someone just isn't true. When I lost someone, when it happened to me, well of course I was upset. I was devastated. But life goes on and you learn to live with your feelings.​ 

It was a beautiful day, but how were we to know it would have such a tragic ending? Having slept over the alarm, we slugishly made coffee and toast before getting ready for the beach. Every moment of that day is stamped into my memory, with every detail present. While I was out in the garden, collecting lettuce from our vegetable patch to go in our picnic, I heard his soft, loving voice call me. “Where are you my love?” 



I think about all the things I said to him. “I’m in the garden dear, I won’t be a minute,” Why did I have to say that? Why didn’t I tell him I loved him and that he'll be mine forever. Not once that day had I told him I loved him, not once.​ 

Shortly after, we left for the beach, as I said, it was a beautiful day, the sun was high and there wasn't  a cloud in the sky. The drive up there was so scenic, going past fields, forests, and stables; then in-front of us there was a perfect horizon, a crystal blue sea with the odd dolphin jumping out of the water. I thought we were in paradise.​ 

As we got closer to the sea the smell of salt water made me rather thirsty so we stopped off at the local café to get a drink before taking a long stroll across the promenade. While walking, somehow we started talking about life, and who was getting what in our wills. I was so surprised when he brought this subject up it was though he new what was going to happen, like he new he was going to die.​ 

We were walking for about an hour before we found a small cubbyhole type thing off the main beach, the sand was golden-brown and felt warm under our feet. It slipped through our toes like a snake, there was not a child in sight and all we could here was the peaceful sound of the waves crashing on the shore line.​ 

We sat down with our salads and sandwiches on our laps and started eating. Soon after, John (that was his name) fell asleep so I got my book out and started reading. I cant for the life of me remember what the book was called but it was about a tomboy that lives with her sisters and longs to be a writer. I believe it was by Louisa May Alcott.​ 

While I was reading I felt the wind pick up so I looked at the sky and saw a big black cloud rolling in, I woke John and we walked back to the car.​ The drive back wasn't so scenic, the wind was blowing and it had started raining rather heavily. Then ahead, we saw a man loose control of his car. He was swerving all over the place, we tried to avoid him but our fate was sealed, then, crash, he hit us.​ 

John and I were both knocked unconscious but I was told a fellow motorist who witnessed the accident phoned an ambulance. When in the hospital, I was treated for minor cuts and bruises, then taken into the family room. I new this meant bad news, I had seen it on television. But I didn't say anything, I was to scared. I was in there for about an hour before I had the strength to ask where John was. They said he had been taken into theater as he had a shard of metal in his side, but they could fix it, but no matter how much the nurses reassured me, I knew he wasn't going to make it, I don't know why I felt that way, but I did, and I felt horrid for thinking that but as soon as one of the nurses came in the room, with a tear in her eye, I knew I was right. Before she even told me the news I was in tears. Screaming for it to be a lie, for her to have got it wrong, then the dreaded words came out of her mouth​ 

“ I'm sorry madam, but he didn't make it”​ 

“no, no, this can't be,” I said “ you said he was going to be fine, you said he was going to make it. You lied to me” I started crying, louder and louder. He was dead, my lovely John was, dead.​ It's been 4 years now, since, he, well passed away. Whenever someone mentions him or shows me a photo that he is in, I still tear up. But thats natural.​ 

So here I am telling you my story. Still missing John. Maybe some day, I will forget the bad time, and only remember the good. But as one chapter finishes, another starts.


*Hope this is better*​


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## Trollbuster (May 14, 2009)

Having read the previous monologue I feel this is a great improvement. The character sounds like someone who’s found the strength to deal with this tragedy. I can see her being an inspiration to others in similar circumstances. Me, I would have been tempted to turn it into a farce. Cruel I know. But then I have a rather acerbic and sarcastic nature. The only real niggles are technical ones. I think the first two paragraphs should be combined. And you need a link between _“...to live with your feelings”_ and _ “It was a beautiful day.”_ The jump from present to past is too sharp. It jolts. 

The next two paragraphs can also be combined. Come to think of it, people don’t usually speak in paragraphs, (I do, but then I’m weird). In fact, the whole thing could be one long paragraph. I’ve written monologues that way and no one ever complained. When combining this section add an “and,” thus: 

_“Where are you my love?” And I think about all the things I said to him...” _

Otherwise there’s another jolt there. It’s getting quite bumpy, right? I’m starting to feel nauseous. The other paragraphs can also be combined except for the last one. At this point the character pauses to control herself as the memory threatens to engulf her. Then she takes a deep breath and goes on.

I hope this has been help. Why the hell isn’t there any comedy on here? If I keep having to read all this serious and emotional stuff I’m going to lose my sense of humor!


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## fantasy girl (May 14, 2009)

thanks Tb that realy helps and how is loosing your sence of humor a bad thing


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## Trollbuster (May 14, 2009)

If I were a harbinger of doom or an undertaker then losing my sense of humour would be no great tragedy. However, because I make my living trying to be funny I’d be – to use a colloquial expression – in the shit. Anyway, according to the Reader’s Digest laughter is the best medicine. Although, to be fair, it wasn’t for this guy I knew who laughed so hard he had a heart attack. Still, the pathologist said it was a change to see a corpse with a smile on its face. In fact, he was almost reluctant to cut him open.


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## fantasy girl (May 14, 2009)

whether that was a joke or not i don't know, but still, DEATH BY LAUGHTER what a way to die


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## Trollbuster (May 14, 2009)

Yes, it was a joke. I hope to die with the sound of laughter ringing in my ears.  Unfortunately it’ll probably be be other people’s laughter. Still, it’s nice if you can make people happy.


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## fantasy girl (May 14, 2009)

true!


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## Olly Buckle (May 16, 2009)

This is so much better, it must be really satisfying seeng how much work you are putting into your writing now, there are a couple of spellings, things like minuet and cant for minute and can't that won't show on spell check because they have alternative meanings. Having all the capitals and paragraphs makes so much difference to reading it, thank you.

Your descriptive writing seems to come and go.
"Shortly after, we left for the beach, as I said, it was a beautiful day, the sun was high and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The drive up there was so scenic, going past fields, forests, and stables; then in-front of us there was a perfect horizon, a crystal blue sea with the odd dolphin jumping out of the water. I thought we were in paradise."
Here for example the sun was high and there wasn't a cloud in the sky seems a bit cliché and I felt there could be some description of the forests and fields, what were they growing, what sort of trees, deciduous forest and pine forest have a very different feel, and "the odd dolphin" just seems weird, like "More bloody dolphins" rather than something magical and wonderful.
 On the other hand there are places I love, the smell of the salt making you thirsty, and sand slipping through your toes is well used but "like a snake" lifts it beautifully.
You are obviously putting effort into your writing and it is showing, well done.

After-thought, I have written a couple of monologues which I recorded and put on you tube, they didn't really come together until I read them out loud, then the places I had to alter jumped out at me.


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## Like a Fox (May 16, 2009)

- Hey Fantasy Girl. 
It's bed time for me, but I see that you posted a revision, and I totally forgot to reply to the PM you sent me with it in there.... I will come back and check it out tomorrow.
Based on the new crits, looks like you've done a good job. - I shall return.


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## fantasy girl (May 16, 2009)

thanks both of you, can't wait to read what you put fox


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## Mistique (May 18, 2009)

I like it. I think its impressive that at 13 your trying to write something like this and your not doing a bad job either. Some of the things she saids make her emotions real to me. Like this one: _´Why didn’t I tell him I loved him and that he'll be mine forever. Not once that day had I told him I loved him, not once´._ I love the ending ´_But as one chapter finishes, another starts_´ 

I thought maybe somewhere during her monologue she could do something with the Teddy bear or the chocolate. Like cuddle the Teddy Bear or eat some chocolate. That way it might be a bit more dynamic and you could also use it to show her emotions without her actually saying so.

Personally I would put more anger in her story. Towards him for dying in the first place? Towards the driver of the other car? Towards fate for allowing this to happen? Something like that, but that´s me and my way of grieving, it might not be suitable for what you want with your story.


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## fantasy girl (May 18, 2009)

thanks mistique, i was going to put more anger in but thats not me and i didn't know how to write it in, and i will see if i can work something in with the chocolates and teddy.


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## Like a Fox (May 22, 2009)

Woman sits center stage on a Daybed in the bedroom​she is holding a teddy-bear with a box of chocolates next to her​​Some women*,* when *they’re* in love say “*I can’t live without him*” but isn't it funny how much of an exaggeration that is*?* I have felt the same way in my life, I’ve said those things. We all have, haven't we? But to say you can’t live without someone just isn't true. When I lost someone, when it happened to me, well of course I was upset. I was devastated. But life goes on and you learn to live with your feelings.

(Just changed the love of my life thing, to can’t live without him, because it makes more sense with what you say next)


It was a beautiful day, how *was I* to know it would have such a tragic ending? Having slept *through* the alarm, we *sluggishly* made coffee and toast before getting ready for the beach. Every moment of that day is stamped into my memory, with every detail present. While I was out in the garden, collecting lettuce from our vegetable patch to go in our picnic, I heard his soft, loving voice call me. 

“Where are you my love?” 


I think about all the things I said to him *that day*. “I’m in the garden dear, I won’t be a minute,” Why did I have to say that? Why didn’t I tell him I loved him and that he'll be mine forever? Not once that day *did I tell *him I loved him, not once.


Shortly after, we left for the beach, as I said, it was a beautiful day. The sun was high and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The drive up there was *picturesque*. *We drove* past fields, forests, and stables. *As we neared our destination* we approached a perfect horizon, a crystal blue sea, and *we actually saw* a dolphin jumping out of the water. I *felt like* we were in paradise.


As we got closer to the sea, the smell of salt water made me thirsty, so we stopped off at the local café to get a drink before taking a long stroll across the promenade. While walking, we started talking about life. *We spoke about how precious and unpredictable life is. The subject of our wills came up*. *In retrospect, it’s beyond strange that we had that conversation not hours before he died. It’s almost like he knew.

*(- I really hated that Will bit. Seemed rushed and awkward. Just reworded it a bit, you should play with it a bit more, that’s just a rough idea)


We *walked* for about an hour before we found a small cubbyhole off the main beach, the sand was golden and felt warm under our feet. It slipped through our toes like a snake, there was not a child in sight and all we could *hear* was the peaceful sound of the waves crashing on the shore.


We sat down with our salads and sandwiches on our laps and started eating. Soon after, John fell asleep, so I got my book out and started reading. I can’t for the life of me remember what the book was called but it was about a tomboy *who* lives with her sisters and longs to be a writer. I believe it *is* by Louisa May Alcott.


While I was reading I felt the wind pick up, so I looked at the sky and saw a big black cloud rolling in, I woke John and we walked back to the car. 
The drive back wasn't so scenic, the wind was blowing and it had started raining rather heavily. Then, ahead, we saw a man *lose* control of his car. He was swerving all over the place, we tried to avoid him but our fate was sealed, then... crash, he hit us. 


John and I were both knocked unconscious. I was told *sometimes later by* a fellow motorist who witnessed the accident *and* phoned *the* ambulance. While in the hospital, I was treated for minor cuts and bruises, then taken into the family room. I *knew* this meant bad news, I had seen it on television. But I didn't say anything, I was *too* scared. 

I was in there for *over* an hour before I had the strength *of will* to ask where John was. They said he had been taken into theater *because there* was a shard of metal in his side, but they could fix it. No matter how much the nurses reassured me, I knew he wasn't going to make it, I don't know why I felt that way, but I did, and I felt horrid for thinking* it*. But as soon as one of the nurses came into the room, with a tear in her eye, I knew I was right. Before she even told me the news, I was in tears. Screaming for it to be a lie, for her to have *gotten* it wrong, then the dreaded words came out of her mouth,

“I'm sorry madam, but he didn't make it,” 


“No, no! This can't be,” I said “You said he was going to be fine, you said he was going to make it. You lied to me” I started crying, louder and louder. He was dead, my lovely John... Dead.
It's been *four *years now, since, he, well passed away. Whenever someone mentions him or shows me a photo that he is in, I still tear up. But I suppose that’s natural.


So here I am telling you my story, still missing John. Maybe someday, I will forget the bad time, and only remember the good. But as one chapter finishes, another starts.



Hey pretty. HUGE improvement this time.
I just went through and fixed up a few spelling/grammar things, and picked on a few other things that could use a bit of tidying. But well done on the rewrite. You really took what I recommended before on board.


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## fantasy girl (May 22, 2009)

yeah, thanks. i am going to have another re-write this weekend, ill pm you the final results and you can tell me what you think.


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