As you might tell, I get a lot of inspiration from the bus, but don't worry, that's not all I write about.
The Bus Stop: The Story
The screech of the bus had become almost comforting to someone like Alyssa who, on a hateful note, rode it almost every day of the week. When she sat in the back, the air conditioner, (that hadn’t been turned on for months,) was loud, and adding to the already roar of the engine, sometimes Alyssa would assume she would just go deaf on this ride, and if not on this one, then the next.
Late March and it was already in the seventies on the west coast. This could only be a precursor to what would come in August. Alyssa broke out in sweat just thinking about it. She overheard a boy sitting behind her that she was pretty sure she had gone to school with, say “I think the record last year was 106.” As he said it, his voice fluctuated to strain the numbers. As if 106 degrees Fahrenheit was that big of a deal compared to 115. Alyssa said under her breath, “More than that sweetheart.” The boy next to her looked up from his fingernail pickin’. He couldn’t have heard her; his iPod headphones were glued in his ears. She grinned awkwardly and returned her gaze to the window, not necessarily looking out of it, just pretending to.
There was that darn scream again sounding from the guts of the engine. Alyssa couldn’t remember where the bus engine was located, but it had to have been the back. She rested her head for a moment on the glass window only to retract it again. She concluded a bus window that vibrates and shakes over bumps it not the best pillow. Bored, Alyssa looked around. Her gaze stopped on a woman’s face, then when the woman glanced up, Alyssa distracted her gawk to a new direction. She looked at her shoes, then her bag, then her book! She had forgotten her book that she had purchased recently. She ripped it out of her bag and flipped to the page the jacket flap had saved for her, and began reading.
It was followed by another thump and a sharp cry…
Strange, Alyssa thought, where was I? She scanned the last two pages then turned back to the current one. She read a little bit more to jog her memory.
Almost a dog’s yelp, of pain.
She flipped to the beginning of the story. “Rest Stop.” It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t be sure. She looked at the cover. Just After Sunset by Stephen King. It was her favorite author, but somehow, she couldn’t remember the book title. She opened to the table of contents and read the titles. “Willa” had a check mark next to it; Alyssa guessed that she had already read that one. She harshly flipped to it, and after a few lines of unfamiliar syntaxes, she closed the book, simply resting it on her thighs.
The Ding! of someone pulling the cord forced her to look up. The streets seemed familiar, and declared she would get off here. If it wasn’t her stop, she would walk. She exited with the rest, following behind a few people for a while till they decided to cross the street. She stared at the blinking hand, as she did not cross. She instead turned down the street closest to her. Third Street is what the sign read when she looked up. Is that my street? Alyssa thought and struggled with her brain for a moment, stepping off the crosswalk into the bike lane.
Forgetting her hand still contained the book, she looked down and saw the blur of the letters no longer reading Just After Sunset, instead it said
TSUJ
RETFA
TESNUS
Holding it in front of her eyes for a better perspective, she blinked hard. Still reading unpronounceable words, she shook it. She shook it so hard she shook herself, leading her into the street. A horn sounded demandingly making her snap out of it. She veered to the left till she saw grey cement under her Doc Martens. She briefly looked up, and blinked again. One more glance down at the collection of stories, only to see the author’s name twisted backwards as well as the title.
NEHPETS
GNIK
Now frustrated, Alyssa tossed the book in one of the green garbage cans lining the street, thinking, 106? More than that sweetheart.
Credit: Stephen King, Just After Sunset released November 2008. (and highly reccomended by me.)
From the get-go, I found this piece to be as uncomfortable to read as the protagonist felt when her breasts shook *honestly, I found this line very out of place, and awkward*.
But after reading more, I found myself actually....well.....interested in reading more. You have a sound, capable writing voice, but you're very rough around the edges, in terms of actual storytelling ability. While the general (albeit, metaphorical) rule of thumb for good literature is to have a series of threads woven together for an enjoyable tapestry, your piece here seemed to be a jumbled series of moments, akin to a jigsaw puzzle.
Incidentally; I'm not really complaining. Your style seemed subtle in it's erratic-ness *and the erratic nature might just be because you are apparently a new writer*, but you can still tell you've got some talent, there.
There's a saying, I forget by whom, and I forget exactly how it goes, to be honest. But to paraphrase; half of writing is learning what to put in a story; the other half is learning what to leave out. I think that's good advice for all of us.
I saw you edited this piece, so I decided to take a look.
Nice job re-wording the beginning paragraph. It's a wonder how one word can make all the difference. By changing that, you also ended the confusing circle. Nice work!
first off, very good story. it's captivating, and that is the hardest part to master in writing. another hard skill is painting the picture in the readers mind. you know how it's suppose to look, but the readers dont. when you are working through the descriptions, you have to read, re-read, and re-read again to make sure you got it right. the beginning was confusing, that is for sure. i didn't know what you were talking about until after you started describing the back of the bus. try to think of ways to stop saying "she" so much in the first paragraph. try replacing one or two with "alyssa" instead. that would increase the reader interest and you would seem you were more of a professional author. try these tips and you're story will seem great, i promise. if you want any more editing tips, just ask. thanks for the great story!
Hello, just thought I'd workshop with you now.
I would eliminate "When she sat" in the fourth line, to show what you mean instead of tell.
Play with the "Late-March" sentence for re-wording it could be clearer. Try to find different ways of starting some of your sentences with another word then "She" cuts down on being bombarded with "She, she, she." line after line. What's the reason she didn't remember? (most likely why she had not remembered.) hmmm... It's a little confusing when things start going fuzzy, and the story really seems to pick up when she starts reading her book putting your reader in the middle of the action. Why would she forget about the book if she was already engaging in it? Maybe play with the Blink, blink, blink. There may be a better way of dealing with that effect, to keep the tension you want. Another question is why wouldn't she know the street she lived on? She seems clueless to her surroundings. It may be fun to play with her if she is very familiar with her surroundings and begins to notice that familiarity is seeming out of whack. ie, this is the normal stop, but something doesn't feel right what could it be?
I like the backwards letters premise, but why would she throw the book away in frustration? If you bought a book that was fine one moment and weird the next, wouldn't you keep it? Just a thought. Remember to ask yourself "What does my character want?" In order to give her some stakes and to engage the readers interest. Does she want to make it home for a date? Is she dealing with a death? Is life loosing it's flavor and she's fighting depression? That kind of thing. If you really have a heart for fiction and prose, find the book "How to grow a novel" by Sol Stein. You may even find it online. Great book, helped me with my fiction greatly. So keep it up, I would like to see where you go with this. cheers,
-M
I like this. Its powerful and strange and while I wouldn't normally recommend talking about such new and noted literature, I find you to do it most effectively.
Well done. You surely have your own style and voice. Very concise,yet detailed. Alyssa is an extremely interesting character at first sight. I would like to read more about her. Bravo!
From the get-go, I found this piece to be as uncomfortable to read as the protagonist felt when her breasts shook *honestly, I found this line very out of place, and awkward*.
But after reading more, I found myself actually....well.....interested in reading more. You have a sound, capable writing voice, but you're very rough around the edges, in terms of actual storytelling ability. While the general (albeit, metaphorical) rule of thumb for good literature is to have a series of threads woven together for an enjoyable tapestry, your piece here seemed to be a jumbled series of moments, akin to a jigsaw puzzle.
Incidentally; I'm not really complaining. Your style seemed subtle in it's erratic-ness *and the erratic nature might just be because you are apparently a new writer*, but you can still tell you've got some talent, there.
There's a saying, I forget by whom, and I forget exactly how it goes, to be honest. But to paraphrase; half of writing is learning what to put in a story; the other half is learning what to leave out. I think that's good advice for all of us.
A very interesting write. Once again, I enjoy your fluid, pleasant writing style and the details you provide. I truely hope you plan to continue with this story as I'm anxious to learn about what's happening with Alyssa.
Nicely done indeed, yet again. :)
Great read... kind of left me hanging there at the end. Definitely need to finish this one.
I haven't read a Stephen King novel after From a Buick 8 nearly bored me to tears a few years back. Still he is one of my favorite authors and I will take your recommendation and read this one.
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