The Gumption of Rain

A woman's narrative set in the early 1900's. I used stream of consciousness.

       Rain is such a beautiful thing. Truly. Look at it. It glistens so very nicely and drops down the air whenever it feels a tad crowded in a cloud. Oh how I desire to be rain! If I had the choice, no the gumption, to just drop out of a situation whenever it was crowded or uncomfortable, I would be the happiest person on Earth.

          Sadly, I do not. A majority of the time I don't even chose what I dress in. I just wake up in the morning and there they are, my clothes, lying neatly and freshly ironed across my love seat. The worst of it is that I usually don't even purchase my own clothes! My husband is usually the person who chooses my fashions. I know it is not the awful power play like I view it, but a result of his benevolence and the pure apathy I have towards any sort of clothing. However,I would still like to have the choice. But like always, I never do.

        I remember when I was sixteen and my father began scouting around town for a nice rich bachelor for me to marry. I never wanted to marry. In fact, whenever I am faced with the burden of seeing my husband for a long period of time, I always make some excuse for an outing or pretend to take ill. Unfortunately he usually sees through my schemes and misconceives that I am playing some sort of game and it is even harder to shake him away.

 

 To return from my idle rant, while my father was scouting for my future "sugar daddy" I disgraced myself by going in the woods at a party with the notorious womanizer Don Hampton, and all the lovely bids for my hand fled at the sight of whorish activity(for men always love the dumb virgin). "Luckily" I still had one suitor that was very adamant about having my hand- Forty-five year old Darcy Maylock. I wish I could say after seeing him I fell in love. But it was the complete and utter opposite.

         Darcy Maylock was everything a girl dreams about..................in her worst and most horrifying of nightmares. He was ugly and fat and he had the repulsive tendency to wink at me whenever there could be some sort of kinky connotation made in a conversation.Yes, my father married me off to a middle aged pervert.

 I all but ran away the day before my wedding, and the only reason I didn't was because I am a coward. A silly, infantile, trusting, little coward, that should have had the common sense to flee as far as possible from the mere mention of Mr. Maylock's name. But I stayed, and we wedded. I think the highlight of the wedding might have been when he knocked my wedding ring off the velvet cushion the bearer was holding with his fat clumsy digits, then after retrieving it off the ground, he lost his breath and had to sit down for a 5 minutes in the middle of the ceremony.

         At least I have my health, right?I believe I began to want to feel like rain on my wedding night .If you can, imagine a fat naked belly against your flesh, and the worst possible pain you can imagine in your "coin purse" (for god forbid a lady say the disgraceful V word). That is all I remember from my wedding night, and the rain. Oh the rain. While he whispered disgusting things in my ear, breathing like a constipated dragon on Valium, I tried to concentrate on something else. So turning my delicate well bred nose from the stench of whiskey coming from his thin mouth, I looked out the window and saw the rain.

          And I do have to say The rain is much better than I am or will ever be. So for now I shall hypothesize, scheme, and insult. Until that is, I can be like rain.

 

Author's Note

Tell me how I can improve!I am only 15, I need to know what to do to improve

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

It's a very nice idea, and you have the basic ideas down nicely. What you may want to work on is suggesting things as opposed to flat-out saying them. Take your description of Darcy Matlock, for example--you come right out and say he's fat and ugly. Instead of being so up front, suggest it--have him walk, and describe it as a slow, waddling gait. Talk about a great, red bulbous nose or a huge ear shaped like a rabbit-chewed cauliflower--things that let us discover for ourselves what he looks like. When you tell us directly what someone is, we get a two-dimensional picture; when you let the reader discover the person for themselves, they become three-dimensional. You have a very nice picture stared here; now you need to add the shading and details.

[Ecnelis]

I very much like the idea. Parts of it reminded me of "The Yellow Wallpaper" while others reminded me of Zora Neale Hurston's "Their Eyes were Watching God." Not stylistically (for both stories have different styles) but the content and idea.

I've read some of the other reviews and agree with them. Because of the changes in terminology I can't really place the time period it would take place in (research is your best friend when doing period pieces). As was said in the other review, always show your reader, don't tell. Possibly some of the best advice out there.

My best advice is editing. Edit and edit and edit! Your writing reminds me very much of my writing when I was fifteen (which reminds me! Unless a number is over one hundred, type it out. Avoid using 123456 if you can). Sometimes what can help a story the most in a good copy edit. If you know someone who is fantastic with punctuation, grammar, and the like, beg them to help you out. I've had so many friends who I've convinced into being my copy editors! Through them, I began to learn and make less mistakes.

I could go on for awhile but I've already written enough, so I will call it a day. If you ever want someone to help you out with advice on a piece, message me. I like your writing and can't wait to see how you'll grow!

[Ross]

These are positive reviews and all make good sense to me. This is a great story concept. We need to know more about the 16-yr-old, what her hopes were that were dashed by this arranged marriage, what benefits to her (and her father) accrued from marriage to this middle-aged man who seems to be wealthy (describe). In addition to typos, there are modern usages that don't belong (I all but...). I'm not sure anyone knows how a constipated animal breathes, let alone a dragon in any condition. Add some conversational bits and a novel is under way.

[Jibey]

I think this is a neat creation... a woman trapped in her circumstances, submitting to her father's plans and then living to regret it. Her revulsion at his physical presence is well described -

"While he whispered disgusting things in my ear while breathing like a constipated dragon on Valium"

Says it all! The rain assumed a cleansing, cathartic dimension...

How to improve? Keep on writing!