I put this in a separate post because I didn't want those of you, friends of mine, who will read this story just because I wrote it, to bring my neuroses to the story. Of course, I want you to all wildly disagree with me, but I don't think you will.
Here's how I see "Cliff Hanging": It is a massive pile of bullocks. Not, of course, because it is poorly written. No, I'd say the writing is just about all it has going for it--except for some weirdness because I decided to go against my gut and not have 3 tense changes in the story, so the opening few paragraphs, which used to be past tense, are now present. Also, it's heavy-handed when in scene, and uninteresting when not.
I told myself I could do tense changes now because I'm not a student of fiction writing. I am now an expert, and I know what I am doing. You all know what a pile of BS that is, because we get almost all of the cool stuff we get by accident. But after the story was finished, I thought to leave the three tense sections as kind of a verse, chorus, refrain structure. Like it would somehow greater explain the narrator's lack of self-awareness and her autocide. (shut up, spell check. it is, too, a word. OED online says so!)
So I think I've lost it. I have read too many romance novels. My mind is now too addled to write literary fiction. At least I'm writing, right? That's swell. If there's any money in fiction at all these days, it's in genre fiction anyhow.
OK. Good things: it's only 1500 words. I think the bit at the end about the pink shoes and shirt that she doesn't remember buying is funny. I like the interaction with her boss, but I think the dialogue is potentially overwritten.
Anyhow. Since I don't live in a town with any of my writing friends anymore, I want you all to email me or call me or facebook message me and play e-workshop with me. I'll gleefully return the favor, and link to your blog from mine, and buy you chocolate when I see you. Or coffee.
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