Saudade
A Story by Poetaster
A longing for a love that no longer exists.
The sun was barely peeking over the clouds as I sat down near the ledge. "There's just something about cold mornings." She said, hugging me tight. "Spring's just around the corner." I thought. But the chill of winter still lingered. "Tout est bien." She said. "Oui." I replied. "I see that your French is getting better." "Thanks to you."
The sky screamed of melancholy but the two of us felt content, like everything was going to be okay. "The French say that love makes the greatest pleasures and most sensitive misfortunes in life." "We've had our fair share of both." I said, kissing her forehead. "Look at this flower." She said. She loved flowers. "It's all withered." I replied. "What about it?" "It's funny." "Funny how?" I asked, puzzled. "Flowers bring emotion to the world. It's a lot like love." "But this one's dead. Where's the love in that?" "Flowers aren't meant to last forever. The same goes for love." She was the epitome of irony; She loved so easily, yet never grew attached to anything.
As the sun was about to rise, I could feel the cold wind. The chill was like an omen- A sign of things to come. As the sun painted the sky with an orange tinge, she looked at me with eyes full of hope. But the sun would soon set and make way for another frosty night. We both knew it- It was only a matter of time. "What do you call moments like these?" "Memories." I sighed. On the very same ledge... with her no longer by my side.
© 2020 Poetaster
Reviews
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I think the line: "The sky screamed of melancholy but the two of us felt content," embodies my reaction to this piece. Were I the one being addressed, I'd know who the characters were, both as people and to each other. I'd know WHY they felt content, and what the terms means in context. I'd know why what was being said is meaningful to both people, and why this specific conversation represents something important. I'd know where we are in time and space. And, it would make me want to know more—to know more than that some moments are meaningful in retrospect. But I don't, and can't, because I've not been made to feel the emotions, just hear about them.
The goal of both poetry and fiction isn't to report, and to make the reader know what's meaningful to the author and those in the poem/story. It's to make the reader feel what the protagonist is feeling, not know it—to provide an emotional experience as a form of entertainment. The single most meaningful, and satisfying comment a beta reader has made to me was, "How dare you make me laugh and cry on the same page!"
We have the power, by no more than the use and choice of words, to make someone we'll never meet both weep and laugh. Choose the right words and you can make a stranger feel passion for a character who doesn't exist. You can make them stop reading because the action becomes so intense they have to stop and take a breath.
But that comes though inviting them in, not telling them things. In some cases means making them know the scene as the protagonist does in the moment they call "now." It can mean painting a word picture so beautiful, so vivid, that it becomes reality as it's being read.
In this piece a good part of the story never made it to the page because your clear visualization provides such a vivid picture in your mind that you forgot that the reader lacks that picture. Look at the opening, not as the author, who has full context, and intent, but as a reader, one who hears no emotion in the words but what punctuation suggests and no meaning but what the words suggest based on the reader's life-story, not your intent.
• The sun was barely peeking over the clouds as I sat down near the ledge.
"The ledge?" You have a complete setting. The reader has "a narrow horizontal surface projecting from a wall, cliff, or other surface." Location unknown, time unknown, planet unknown. That's complicated by this un-gendered person not being on the ledge, but only "near" it.
And "peeking over the clouds" can mean any time till noon, not morning. Plus, why does time of day matter to the scene or conversation?
• "There's just something about cold mornings." She said, hugging me tight.
Editing point: For tags the period becomes a comma and the first letter of the tag isn't uppercase.
So...an unknown female, of unknown age, situation and relationship to the protagonist, mentions something unspecified, common to whatever is defined as a cold morning at that location. It seems to mean something the speaker sees as positive. We don't know what it is because it's never explained, other than to say whatever temperature it is, is okay.
• Spring's just around the corner." I thought. But the chill of winter still lingered.
Editing point: Thoughts are presented in italic, with no need to explain that it is a thought. But...this person
Next: You're dwelling on the weather in an unknown place. Why is this meaningful to a reader, who just arrived as a blank slate, waiting for you to create a living picture? Would the story change were she to substitute, "Something about fall mornings?" If not, what significance does the remark have so far as story?
- - - -
In the first section, two people we know nothing about comment on the weather, in general terms. One likes it and the other seems a bit cynical. The chill and the location may remind each of them of many things. The season might be deeply meaningful...to them. To a reader? Nothing happens that sets the scene, moves the plot, or develops character, there's no backstory, and, we don't know where we are.
• The sky screamed of melancholy but the two of us felt content...
What can a reader make of this? Melancholy? Are they waiting to die? Are they lovers about to be parted? Have they lost a beloved parent, son, country? You know. They know. But the one you wrote it for? Not a clue. But they should know. Remember, the reader will not turn to page two unless you provide a reason that will make them WANT to.
Write from your chair, of course. But remember that the reader has only the context you provide or point to. So edit from the seat of a reader—one who's apt to misunderstand, who requires context, and is a bit stupid...like me.
You list this as a story, but it's a vignette that requires more context to make it meaningful. Your goal is to be poetic. I see that, but for that you need to involve the reader more intimately on an emotional level.
I wish I had better news, but you did ask. Dig into the field a bit more deeply. I find research and knowledge a fairly good working substitute for genius.
Hang in there, and keep on writing.
Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/the-grumpy-old-writing-coach/
Posted 4 Years Ago
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4 Years Ago
Thanks for the review!!! Really appreciate the feedback!
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Added on May 26, 2020
Last Updated on May 26, 2020
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