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 Posted: Sun Mar 07, 2010 10:13 am
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I imagine some of you might be wondering 'well, if he can critique, I wonder what his writing looks like'.
Well, here's my take on writing.
This story is 1,700 words, so hopefully it shouldn't be too hard to get through. I know it's kinda long, but if you guys want me to write something under that, then give me something to write about with a word limit. ^^
I wrote this January 29th, 2010 and I edited and revised it today.
You guys should feel honoured; I have never edited or revised a single work.
Anyway, without any further adieu, Luke.
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Luke was a beagle. He found joy in many simple things, such as running around the yard, playing with other dogs, and idly gnawing on a bone. He never asked for much from his caretakers, except for the things they were expected to provide for him.
He lived with a family that cared very much for him. He was in no way an 'abused' or 'neglected' dog. Often when he was around, a family member would take time to pet him, or rub his tummy (which he very much enjoyed) and they didn't think much of it but a common courtesy for the family pet.
One member that particularly liked him was the daughter of the owners. She was a little girl of 10 years old, and she frolicked often with the beagle pup. When they were first introduced the parents were cautious because they knew that dogs often unintentionally hurt children, but they received no trouble from Luke. In fact, he seemed to protect their daughter as if she was given to him to tend to.
If he heard her wail due to some accident, he was the first on the scene to see what was wrong. Carrying the face of worry so many people thing incapable of dogs, Luke was sure to stay with her the entire day. Once she had scraped her elbow, and he was there to gently lick it. The act of him doing so made her stop crying, and when the mother showed up to see what had happened, it had seemed as if he had already taken care of it.
One of his favourite pleasures was taking rides in the car. Whenever the family went to go run an errand, Luke would often whine in the window, watching them pull out. The little girl would feel so bad leaving him, she would sometimes convince her parents to take him along.
He would rest his paws on the edge of the window, mouth open and tongue lapping at the incoming gust. The little girl would often worry that he might slip and fall out of the car, so she watched him closely with a hand on his hind leg. The family didn't mind having him in the car, because so very rarely was he a nuisance.
Sometimes the parents would bicker over financial issues, and it would scare Luke and the little girl both. The shouting terrified Luke, and the little girl would hope that one day they would stop yelling.
Often she would hold him in her arms in her closed room while the parents argued. With her eyes closed, she would whisper words she would only hope he could understand. "It's okay Luke, everything will be okay." Small drops of water would leak out of her eyes, and Luke would gentle lick at them.
Luke didn't know why he was sad, or why she was sad, or how he even knew those emotions; he simply knew that he was there for her just as he had always been.
Luke was so blissful in his lifestyle. As he grew older, he would take naps more often, but he was always there to tend to the little girl whenever see needed him. Sometimes his little body would be slow to respond to what he wanted and, though it puzzled him, he went about his business without much trouble.
The family took notice of this trouble he was having and took him to the vet. Luke didn't know where they were going, but he was able to put his little paws on the window seal and stick his head out in joy. The little girl was there holding onto his hind leg as she had always been. Even for an old dog, he found bliss within that simple pleasure.
At the office, Luke sat in the little girl's lap, looking and smelling for other animals. There was a scent that reminded him of the mother washing the kitchen and another that made him think of the monthly flea medicine that the family gave him.
After momentary waiting, the father took Luke to the back room where a man wearing a white jacket was waiting for him. Luke was examined and checked by the man and soon after Luke was taken to a strange machine he didn't understand. Some noises went off that scared Luke, but it didn't last very long and soon after Luke and the father were sitting in a room.
The father petted and rubbed old Luke's tummy, saying words that Luke didn't comprehend, but understood as soothing. If Luke could have understood the words, he would have been hearing "Don't worry, boy. I'm sure everything is going to be fine. You're an old dog, but you're not that old."
After half an hour, the doctor came back with a grim face and began talking to the father. Luke watched as the father's face grew more concerned and worried as the announcement went on. They began conversing back and forth, and the father started to pet Luke warmly. Luke could tell something was wrong, but he didn't know what.
That night the girl cradled little Luke, tears flowing out of her eyes that seemed like they'd never stop. She spoke softly in between sobs and slight gasps for air. "I'm sorry, Luke, I'm so sorry." Somewhere in his little head, Luke noticed that the parents were not arguing as they usually were in these situations. But he handled them the same way, licking her fragile face as he had always done.
Luke was given special treatment the next few days. He received many dog treats that he didn't usually get, and the family gave him a lot of attention. He was even allowed to go on most of the car trips. The little girl almost refused to leave his side and having to leave him seemed to be a painful feat.
One morning when Luke was scratching at his empty bowl, the parents opened the door and said "Want to go for a car ride, Luke?" Luke didn't recognize any of the words, but responded to 'car' and 'Luke', meaning he would get to go for a ride. Luke quickly forgot about his hunger and with tail wagging about wildly, he hopped up into the car seat.
As they were about to leave, the little girl shouted at them from the house. Luke put paws up on the window looking to her with his tail wagging. In his excitement, Luke didn't notice she had not come with them.
After a brief exchange of words between the parents and the little girl, she was allowed to go with them. When she entered the car, he was all joy, but this didn't seem to affect her as it usually did. In fact, she seemed a little more troubled by it.
Luke didn't know how he knew it, but he felt anxiety. The little girl held him tenderly and Luke could tell she was upset. He couldn't figure out why, though. It gave him a feeling of discomfort, and he couldn't understand it. The feeling soon left him as the window next to him slid down and he allowed him to prop himself up in face of the wind. For the remainder of the car ride, this was all he could think of; the great delight he got from having his head outside was true bliss.
Luke didn't notice, but silent tears slid down the little girls face, watching him be in such a perfect place.
When the car finally stopped, he was scooped up by the mother, and was soon in a room that smelled of other dogs, as well as other animals he wasn't as familiar with. He was able to register most of the scents, and one very prominent one was the one he related to a man in white clothing.
Luke was pretty certain he was back at the veterinarian's office. He was held by the little girl and she petted his little head warmheartedly.
After a small time a voice called out to the family, and he was carried by his father to the man in white. The girl protested, asking to be with him, and after another set of words, she was allowed to follow them.
When the girl entered the room, the man questioned both the father and the girl. After some small words, she was allowed to stay. Luke was set up on a table, and examined very briefly by the man. During these routine things, the little girl looked at him sadly.
Luke knew something was wrong, and he often looked at the father, the little girl, and the man in white. If Luke could ask questions, he'd ask "What's happening?"
The man left briefly and while he was gone the little girl got up and encircled his head with her arms. Tears were welling up and overflowing down her cheeks, and Luke was in the position to lick them on the left side of her face.
Luke didn't know that there was a harmful germ inside him. Luke didn't know that he was diagnosed with a disease. Luke had no way of knowing that the disease had been growing since he was young and had taken root inside his very being. Luke could never figure out that the disease promised him a painful death of cardiac arrest and various seizures.
The only thing Luke knew at that time was that the little girl was upset and that he wanted to help her.
The man returned and disappeared behind him. His return prompted the uncontrollable sobs from the little girl, warm water running down her little face. If it was in Luke's power, he would have stopped her from crying because the parents weren't fighting, and everything seemed fine.
After a moment a very small pinch nipped at him, and he considered it a persistent flea. The girl sobbed louder, but for some reason Luke felt very tired. He attempted to fight it because he didn't want to leave the girl, but the feeling overcame him. If Luke could have understood human words, he would have heard the little girl whisper "I'm sorry."
Luke slowly closed his eyes, and moments later his heart stopped beating.
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Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 11:29 am
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Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 12:29 pm
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I'm stuck in between here. Luke is one of my favorite names. Beagles are my favorite dogs. However, the language seemed... childish. That's fine, going from a dog's perspective, but it did seem more like a children's story than anything else. The language was stilted, as Waffles said. In fact, my complaints are pretty much what Waffles said. XD
It seemed... cliche. There are so many stories concerning exactly this that I'm desensitized. I grew up with these stories. I just watched Marley and Me over the weekend. Sounder, Where the Red Fern Grows, Shiloh, etc... That does not, however, mean you should avoid overused things. This is, honestly, probably just me. I hope.
Also, I can't just give you a certain amount of stars! It feels like I'm putting a cage around a work. XD Even so, I think 3.5 (rounded to four) stars is my vote.
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Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 2:06 pm
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Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 2:23 pm
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Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 2:33 pm
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Serenity Reed Quote: A teacher of mine said that I write in a way where the meaning of the story is what I get across, while for a casual reader who doesn't interpret every thing they read, I write quite dully. I see. =) It seems that the best of us can strike a balance between these; each line means something specific, but is honest enough in itself to keep the flow flowing without much problem. I suppose it just takes practice to go either way. (I tend, myself, to bounce between the extremes, creating a semblance, but not the actual balance.)
Hm, yeah. I began working on balancing after this story.
Where are the stories you write, by the way? Will I have to dig in the forums to find them?
On a side note, I'm about to put up another story where the writing isn't as childish (I don't think so, anyway. sweatdrop ) |
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Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 2:56 pm
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Reply
