The Postman

In the days following my father’s passing the testator would read aloud his wishes: “By now you all will surely have rummaged through my things. There’s a little jar I rather like. There are several so you will have to decipher for yourself which one is my favorite. I should like to be cremated. My remains shall be taken to their final resting place off the coast of Ireland amongst the conifers of Sherkin Island. ” 

My father had never spoken a word about Ireland in his life. He was a postman of the esteemed US Postal Service. In his view, the profession of a postman was the most noble in the world. You would find it difficult to disagree if you knew my father. He was the carrier of our community’s heart. He often philosophized that it was his act of divine grace with the world. 

That and his three daughters, who I reckon he’d prefer to have been delivered by mail. My parents divorced when my sisters and I were three years old. In a concerning turn of events for our upbringing, our mother shipped off to France. She took the dog.

My father was the piece of our lives that made things make sense, but at the same time, he also had the peculiar quality of disturbing that rhythm when we were least expecting it. 

On the summation of his decrees, my sisters and I had boarded a plane 5,000 miles across the world with no discernible reason why, continuing from Dublin by train to the southernmost region of the country like a misdirected bullet across a guiltless plain.  

My sisters avoided the question entirely. Pauline, not generally renowned for her social competence, had been continuously sipping from the water cup she had been handed twenty minutes before. Monique was unimaginably forlorn. This was plain by the look of her. It’s frightening to recollect. 

One might furthermore recall our escapades as wee ones. Sadness would befall her, moreso when the deeds were done than when they were unproved. Let us say there was an ageless grace which dawned upon her from a very early time, and this did less to nourish her than to dishearten her.  

I passed the time attempting to make eye contact with a sheep. 

The present is marked by exhaustion. We are tired. How else to put it? From another window, this world would be idyllic. It once was, if I can recall correctly. I remember a drive such as this through unsullied landscapes spotted with dairy cows under the backdrop of joyous, weeping green leaves. My sisters were tired then, too, but they slept. It’s possible that my memory fails me, but I felt nothing but happiness there. 

It’s curious how the sanctity of one thing can be marked down by pure circumstance. The sweet doing nothing. The business of doing nothing can only be sweet without the weight of everything. 

I recall a conversation I had with my boss about my father’s passing. It went something like this: “Hey Ovida, just calling to make sure you will have your report in tomorrow by noon. Thanks!” 

Suffice it to say I am now unemployed, and better off for it. But if there was anybody who would tell you work can be rewarding, even beautiful, it would be my father. He could make mowing the lawn a supreme triumph. 

I suppose I’ve never really seen it fit to integrate myself into the social madness of the working world. It doesn’t seem truthful, to say the least. Humans have adopted false personas in order to be deemed tolerable by the harsh reality of life, and we see that acted out in a culture which continues to reveal how little we understand ourselves. That’s often what crosses my mind when I see knackered enterprising folk in suits and ties walking around like, “how do you do?” and such. Monkeys gone wild. 

The morning sun was sailing right alongside us, inviting dreariness and casting shadows across the valley. 

I have been trying to define that moment in our lives. Before my father’s death, my sisters and I had been away at separate universities �" broken off from a childhood spent as three lives in one. There is a burden to being linked with other human souls.  However, there’s always a comfort in returning together to the lost periods of one's life and filling in the missing pieces. I found myself wondering why I continue to return there. I never again expected to share moments like that with my sisters �" moments of nothingness that manifest the synergetic ambiguity of siblinghood and youth. It’s the found quality that can only be understood through what was learned by those who grew up together.

“Why are some of the sheep painted blue? Do you suppose it’s because they’re sad?” I asked.

“No…” Pauline said, “Bleu cheese.” 

The train attendants had started down the aisle with a cart of carrot soup. Chatter amongst passengers picked up at the same time. I don’t think it was a coincidence. 

I couldn’t help but think about the health benefits for my eyes with each bite. 

At its hest, and with no regard for the soup man, the train abruptly and aggressively failed to propel us forward. The engine may have been poorly, but the logistics remain unclear. We found ourselves duly stranded, such as would seem to follow with the proper stagnancy of our tale. I took the soup. 

The truthful and natural order of this continuation is found in the following information which I regret to report, but I hope it doesn’t sway you from hearing more about our story.

I am dying too. 

On the train that day, I felt a connection with chance, that all life was playing out according to its jurisdictions. I had never understood judgment in such a manner, which had played out recurrently in my time but had never felt as lawfully guttural.  

As much as I love my father, I have to admit that I understand I won’t ever see him again. Even if I did, it wouldn’t be the same. If there is such an order to the universe that would bring loved ones together again in death, I don’t know that there would be as much to hold on to in love. Everything would be too wonderful to require such a thing. 

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

This was a lovely story. I like the family aspect and the hints that might just as well be personality traits among the siblings. I grew up with seven of my own (three brothers and four sisters) so I can confidently say I'm an expert in that category. I enjoyed the bits of humor, likewise. There are plenty of pontificating asses who'll try to smother you in their self-importance when they don't even know the difference between "want" and "went" but that's an observation you've already been made aware of. Some folks are so enamored with themselves they can't put their opinion in a bottomless bucket. You need hip waders to step around them. I enjoyed the read. This is good writing. I look forward to reading more from you. F.

[Aura]

I've read the first chapter and let's just say I'm very intrigued. I don't really write alot of stories, and when I do they're really short. I'll try my best to give you constructive feedback but it's mostly grammar mistakes, then again I'm not really the grammar police, I probably didn't catch all of them.

I'd like to first start by saying that I felt this chapter really set the sad, depressing scene showing the daughter and her view of the passing of her father. It seems the father held a job he was proud of, but the family life was not always there. The three sisters went to different universities, the mother left when they were young, taking the dog with her. It seems like the family had alot of disconnect. I like reading about problematic families in novels because they're usually featured in murder novels which I, love to read. Guilty is charged :) but that is not what your story will be about, still I enjoyed reading this chapter simply because you did an excellent job at your description, a good use of imagery as well.

There are some things you can aim to improve. The main one that I saw is when you add an apostrophe to some of your words like father's, in your story it shows up like "father' s" with a space in between the apostrophe and s, I'm not sure if it's because I'm reviewing from a mobile device and the formatting will be different on a computer, but maybe just make sure that the spacing is correct.

Next, in some areas of the chapter I found square □ symbols. In the second paragraph if said " It was his□" and again I'm not sure if it is because I'm working from a mobile device, but I'm not sure what the square meant. Maybe double check to see that you take out those squares and find another way to add in whatever the squares was supposed to represent.

In the third paragraph you wrote " Our mother shipped off to france" and in my opinion, that sounds odd. I would say to rewrite this part and perhaps something like " Our mother deserted us, and escaped to France, taking our beloved dog with us". That's an example

In the fifth paragraph you wrote, " summation of his decrees" and I just think that's a really complicated way of saying, "at his order" right? It's my opinion that when you write, don't use overly complicated words to convey someone's thoughts. Thoughts are complex but if you can write it out simply, it will make the audience more engaged. If you have a essay that has a bunch of complicated words that don't sound English, it'll leave the reader confused. You don't want a confused reader, you want a reader who understands what you're saying. I hope I didn't offend you with this comment.

In the sixth paragraph I believe, you wrote "Humans have adopted false personas in order to be deemed tolerable by the harsh reality of life, and we see that acted out in a culture which continues to reveal how little we understand ourselves" —it's a good thought but I feel it doesn't fit in well with the individuals thoughts, thoughts should be individualized, not really formal like an essay. I'd say to rewrite it but don't make it sounds formal perhaps rewrite to " it seems that the human race care so much about their reputation in a harsh society, they've created a false character, untrue to themselves. Could it be, this is the reason why we have so many lingering questions about ourselves?" Or something that doesn't sound like it came from an essay. Again my apologies if this comment offended you.

This was an observation but you write Bleu cheese instead of blue. I was just wondering if thats how you meant to spell it because its the french spelling of blue and it makes sense to spell it that way since they lived in France. Did the sisters live in france? Im making an assumption because the sisters boarded a plane, the mother escaped to france, but the father was a US postman. I dont think we knew where they lived but i cant be so sure.

Thats all i had for improvements, either than that i think it is a solid way to start a story and i love your way of writing, the description is really good

[Shy Girl]

Ok...I write poetry off and on, short stories are just an area I dabble in sometimes. How do I go about writing any story of mine? I start with the conversation of the characters involved in any given scene. Then I go back to each interaction and fill in the particulars. Expressions, tone of voice, were they walking, sitting, talking on a phone, riding a horse etc. Then once I've figured those details out, I move onto where they are, why are they there, did they meet up there. All along keeping in mind what I want the reader to see, feel, smell and hear. Remember I just dabble in stories though, so I don't follow any strict rules or structure. I have one that is a work in progress. Whenever I pick it up, I find that it gets a bit easier. It's just because the process I go through works for me. You have to find one that works for you and not what fits into "this type is best" or "that kind of work takes this...'" Wherever you see this story going, break it apart and focus on how you see it. Then use words to describe what your senses are telling you. I think this story has great potential. I write poems sometimes that include all the senses, those are my favorites. They aren't complicated, just a break from how we are sometimes taught to count stanza beats or phrases (I lose track of that) Just be you and find what works for your writing style. Be sure to add in information of sight, feeling of the moment (that can describe a great deal when you think about it for a moment or three) Now again, I only dabble in poetry or short story chapters, but I found that once you find what works for you, it will all come together. It really is a good story, just needs a bit more. (plane to train so fast without context was a "what did I miss?" moment for me. :) Keep writing, it will get a bit easier, but always a challenge to get better every time you pick up the pen. Looking forward to reading more from you. :)

[Carola]

sorry sam, i didn't care that much for your story.
personally, I found it a bit confusing & disjointed, each paragraph a new story within itself.
however that's only my opinion.
JayG below gives an excellent review & suggestions.
cheerio carola

[Franky]

You are funny, creative, and excellent writer. I am humbled by your skills. I love how positive the Father is and how the boorish sisters are described in humorous terms.

[John the Baptist]

The chapter sets the story well, showing us the ambivalence of the speaker toward her father. I think it will make an interesting book. However, in this first chapter we are told the speaker and two sisters board a plane, and before the chapter's end they are depicted as suddenly being on a train. Did I miss something?

[Neville]

In both brief and very general terms, I enjoyed this introduction to your writing & style .. Writing is not the easiest or a sure fired way of making one's fortune, but I would seriously urge you to pursue your dream .. so do write on my friend ... Neville

[lightsong]

The only thing I will point out is your opening, "In the days following my father’s passing" in my opinion it is not appealing and strong enough as a start, try something like, "The days following my father's passing were.....". the rest is very good, have a mysterious feeling and what I truly like some of your phrases. You chose some lines and expressions carefully and for a purpose that I believe it will be shown later in your story. All the Best my friend~

[JayG]

First, a minor point. This site doesn't recognize em-dashes, which is why you have those funny characters scattered here and there. Replace them with two dashes,

You didn’t identify your major, but I’m guessing that you’re not going for a degree in Commercial Fiction-Writing. You also didn’t ask for critique, but since you want to write, and say you are an aspiring author, I thought you would want to know about the biggest problem you face, since we’ll not address the problem we don’t see as being one.

In this chapter, from start to finish, this is you, on stage alone, reporting and explaining in overview and summation. So, it reads like a report. And because the reader can’t hear the emotion in your voice, or know where and what they should place emotion, even the life you would add in the telling is gone. Remember, the reader sees the punctuation AFTER the sentence has been read.

Having your computer read this to you—an excellent editing technique for catching stilted wording and things that sound better spoken than read—will give you an idea of the problem. Though, bear in mind that the computer, unlike the reader, looks at the punctuation and uses that when deciding the inflection to use. So what you hear will hold more emotion than what the reader “hears.”

Here’s the thing we all forget: The entire purpose of public education—the reason for its establishment at the beginning of the Industrial Revolution—is to provide employers with a pool of workers who have a predictable, and useful to them, set of general skills. In the case of writing, what do employers mostly need? Reports, papers/essays, and letters. In other words, the kind of writing we spend the majority of our time practicing and studying in school. Its goal? To clearly and concisely inform the reader. And to accomplish that, it deals exclusively in facts presented by a dispassionate external observer—the narrator. In other words, the method you used in writing in this.

Fiction’s goal, though is VERY different. As E. L. Doctorow put it: “Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader. Not the fact that it’s raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.”

To accomplish that, you need a methodology not even mentioned as existing in your public education days, one that’s emotion-based and character-centric.

The reader wants to be made to experience, not be told about events. In reality, can we understand why the character says and does things without knowing the situation exactly as they do; without knowing the imperatives and desires driving the character; without knowing the resources the character has to draw on. No. The joy of reading comes through being made to feel intimately involved in the action, in real-time, and in the protagonist's moment of "now." Damn few read a history book for fun, after all.

Because of our school days training in nonfiction writing technique, we tend to think in terms of telling the reader a story, as if what happens is the center of our focus. But it’s not. Our focus is on the human aspect—what those events mean to, and how they influence, the protagonist. In short, it has to be interesting to the individual reader as a personal experience. And given that gossip is inherently more interesting than a dissertation…

The biggest obstacle you face is that the hopeful writer won’t see that problem when they read and edit, because they do so from the chair of the author, who begins to read already knowing the plot, the backstories, and, the characters. Look at a few lines from this piece, not as the all-knowing author, but as a reader:

• In the days following my father’s passing the testator would read aloud his wishes:

Mark Twain was a brilliant man, and clearly saw the problem with that line, when he said, “Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream.”

So... Why is that man not on stage saying what you're only reporting? Why are we not aware of our protagonist’s immediate reaction to those words? It is their story, after all. Doing it that way would include character development, and give us reason to understand and empathize with that person. The man left his family when this person was three, so their thoughts in response to the reading both say a lot abot them, and, give us a reason for backstory exposition. And in sharing that reaction with the others we would learn our protagonist’s gender immediately. As it is, it takes nearly 500 words to learn our name. But we still don’t know your intended gender because it's an uncommon name. And, after having read 1001 words, which is four standard manuscript pages: How old are we? Dunno. Our profession and education? Unknown. Where do we live? 5000 miles from where the father died, which might, or might not be where the man lived, or where he was when he died. The will says his remains should be “taken" to that spot.

And as a not so minor issue, although it’s not what you meant, you literally have someone reading the will for days. And, since the word testator refers to a person who has died and has left a will, that person is the father, he's dead and reading his will. As the author, never trust your memory for unusual word meaning—or that the reader will know it. Keep it simple with lawyer, solicitor, or, "In his will it said."

People look down on the idea that the language in fiction is said to be held to a sixth-grade level. but doing that ensures that all readers will understand. And for words above that level, always state it so that context provides any help needed.

• “By now you all will surely have rummaged through my things….

While this paragraph conveys the man’s wishes, who cares? We don’t know who we are, where we are, or why this is more than trivia. As having just arrived, why do I care that someone unknown has a father that liked an unknown jar for unknown reasons? Perhaps, had they discussed the possibilities we might have had character-development that would make us know the sisters. But they know nothiong about the man and his life.

My point is that while you have context guiding your perception of the action, the reader has only what you provide.

That's why, early in any scene, we need to orient the reader as to where we are, who we are, and, what’s going on, so they have context as, or before, they read a given point. Fail that and they have only words in a row.

• My father had never spoken a word about Ireland in his life.

The man lived there since the person speaking was three years old. So hos could they know?And he never spoke of the place that was his home. in any case, how would our narrator know? Yes, I know what you mean to say, but it’s not what you told the reader—which is another reason for following Sol Stein’s Advice: “In sum, if you want to improve your chances of publication, keep your story visible on stage and yourself mum.”

No one, on seeing the first person personal pronouns you use will believe that the one who lived the events is the one speaking. We know it's an authorial device. And if you think about it, the only one who uses those personal pronouns is the narrator, except for someone in the story speaking a line of dialog. And since the narrator cannot be on the scene, who cares which personal proniun they use? In life, it's always first person, present tense. And though we may not use that in talking about the character, we want the readeer to feel THEY are living the events first person, present tense. For example, is there the smallest difference between:

I want to the garage to get my car, and meet Sue out front.
And
Stu want to the garage to get his car, and meet Sue out front.

No difference at all. In both cases, someone not on the scene is talking to the reader—which means WE’RE not on the scene, just hearing about it, second-hand.

Do we really care where the car is kept? No. Does anything interesting happen on the way there or back? If not, why mention it, given that it’s an authorial intrusion? In a real story, in a first person VIEWPOINT, the presentation might be:

“Hey, Sue?” I called. “I’m going to get the car. I’ll meet you out front.”

We learn the same thing, but do it in real time. Change the pronoun from “I” to “he” or “Stu” and does the story change? No. There are reasons for first person, verses third person, but realism isn’t one of them.

But let's suppose the reader needed to know something, at this point, about the character's understanding or decision-making. We might use that trip to get the car as a frame to justify the time that passes, with something like:

As a headed to the garage, to get the car, I thought about what Sue said. Had I really…

See the difference, and how we tell the reader background and placement data as enrichment to a necessary line? The problems I 've noted aren't not a matter of how well you write, or your talent. It’s that though we’re not aware of it, we leave our public education days exactly as prepared to write fiction as to design logic or pilot an airliner. Fix that, and…

And fix it you should, because it makes the act of writing a LOT more fun. Now, you’re thinking in terms of, “This happens…then that happens…and after that…” That’s outside-in-writing and everything the characters do and say comes from you, so they speak with your voice and think with your mind. You’ll leave out what seems obvious to you, then fill in the missing detail when you read it back to edit, never noticing the things that will trip the reader. That’s one reason we need to edit from the reader’s chair, not that of the author. It’s also why you need to begin acquiring the skills the pros take for granted. We don’t see those tools, or the decision-points as we read, only the result of the author using that knowledge. And, we expect to see that, as do your readers—which is the best argument in favor of acquiring those skills that I know of.

The library’s fiction writing section has lots of books on the subject. Personally? I’d suggest starting with Dwight Swain’s, Techniques of the Selling Writer, which recently came out of copyright protection. It's the best I've found, to date, at imparting and clarifying the "nuts-and-bolts" issues of creating a scene that will sing to the reader. The address of an archive site where you can read or download it free is just below. Copy/paste the address into the URL window of any Internet page and hit Return to get there.

https://archive.org/details/TechniquesOfTheSellingWriterCUsersvenkatmGoogleDrive4FilmMakingBsc_ChennaiFilmSchoolPractice_Others

So read a chapter of three. I think you'll find that it often has you slapping your forehead and saying. “But that’s so obvious. How can I not have seen it myself?” That’s fun till the tenth time makes you wonder what’s wrong with you. But of more importance, because the methodology forces you to view the situation in real-time, as the protagonist, you don’t make up the events, you live them. And when they don't work, notice that and fix them. And that’s a fun way to write—especially with your co-writer, the protagonist, whispering suggestions and warnings in your ear as you write. And if your characters are not rea to you, in all respects, they won't be real to the reader.

For what it might be worth, the articles in my WordPress writing blog are meant to provide an overview of some of the major differences between fiction and nonfiction writing.

But whatever you do, hang in there, and keep on writing. It never gets easier, but after a while, we do become confused on a higher level. And that tips the ratio of crap to gold a bit toward gold. Writing also keep us off the streets at night. 😆

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/the-grumpy-old-writing-coach/