chapter from my manuscript
GiventoFall
Posts: 217
Working on a novel. Figured I'd post a rough cut of the first chapter if anyone wants to read. Would appreciate any criticism or comments.
Fade In
“ So you got around 300 gum balls in the common by the fountain in the mall bubble gum machine. They use to sell for 25 cents when we was kids but inflation has raised prices to 50 small ones. That’s a one hundred and fifty dollar profit. Bust one open that’s about full and sell it for a street value of its original 25 cents and we got 75 dollars. Not bad not bad I would say, you think?” Says the asshole scumbag Kyle, my friend by default, being too closely associated to be considered only acquaintances.
I say, “I don’t know Kyle. I just don’t. I don’t know if there’s a demand for the product. People like soft gum. Gum that comes in packs. Most kids don’t want their pockets bulging out with big round gumballs, it looks bad. I told you so when Crystal told me she didn’t want to date you because you kept gumballs in your back pocket and when you’d sit down they’d get all mashed up together.
Tia takes a drag of her cigarette every time I speak. She doesn’t exhale till Kyle responds. She doesn’t ash until somebody makes a good point.
“Wait, what?.. Look. Listen. Crystal was a whorl and a half that had to use twice as many tampons as the average woman. Your point obsolete. You know how many candy machines are out there in supermarkets, restaurants, arcades? It beats selling drugs that’s all I’m saying, says Kyle.”
Tia: Why don’t you choke on a piece of gum, get it lodged in your throat. It’s too sticky for you to finger out. We can sue the makers for not putting a warning on the gum that says not to swallow it.
Tia ashes her cigarette and goes about being exactly what and who she is at any given time and space.
“Because then I die and it would be by suicide so I’d go to hell and burn for all eternity. God, you just don’t get it Tia! I need money now. Lawyers cost an arm and a leg and a dick.”
A moment of silence lapses between we three friends. We are all a tit frustrated with Tia. She’s had a ton of bad ideas lately. Yesterday she wanted to make a giant ski ball machine where you’d use bowling balls to play. She smells like Cinnamon Toast Crunch and she chimneys like a chain smoker. A good person she is though. Tia is a black lesbian woman which means she has plenty of human rights groups to choose from. She has a fetish for nuns, that same fascination with virginal innocence that all men have. You can almost smell the cherry scent of a woman if she’s still hanging on to perfection. I guess it’s growing up in a Catholic school with nuns as authority figures and mother Marries. She’s quite jealous of how some altar boys have been treated by their priests. She’s join the club herself but she doesn’t want the Whoopi Goldberg comparisons. Or to kill the dream that’s better than the reality. What we can’t have we always want. If we get it we just want more of it until it consumes our being.
“Look guys, I’m not trying to make so much money that we bring attention to ourselves with the Feds. I’m talking about small, little things nobody notices that keeps paying out. You can walk into any fast-food restaurant and steal the shit out of some ketchup packets, straws, plastic silverware. Hit the streets and make that dough. 100 straws for 30 dollars. Who wouldn’t want that deal? Fourth of July’s coming up, barbecues in every backyard. People need napkins, otherwise their hands are messy their faces are messy, around the mouth area. Think about it” says Kevin.
He sit in a square across the table from each other in Kevin’s garage. Boxes surround us filled with clocks of different fads and flavors. Clocks wrap around the walls of the always opened garage, none tick or tock. He aint Captain Hook but Kevin went through a phase where he wanted a separate clock for every minute of every day. So all the clocks are frozen at a specific time. 12 AM/PM is preserved for his calculator watch he never takes off unless showering since it’s not water resistant. Other artifacts of the garage=push lawnmower, broken space heater, three shovels, a Kid Rock cd with a fake signature (Kevin swears to Bill Gates that he met Kid Rock once in a record store in Philadelphia thumbing through Sonic Youth cassettes.) a tool box, and things you would find in a garage.
Living in Southern New Jersey is hard work for a living. Most the people here end up in the graveyard eventually. We live in the town of Denton where everybodies mom is a nurse or a teacher. Canada once called this the town where happiness shines on those who chase after it. I’ve come to the conclusion that when God painted this beautiful planet of ours he messed up on our little section of canvas and told himself he’d come back to correct and paint over it but got sidetracked with the rest of America and forgot. It’s not so bad though. Our Wal-Mart Is Super, the parking lot stretches out as far as the eye of your imagination can see. The Wawa’s and 7/11s stay open 24/7, 25 if it’s day lights savings time. And in New Jersey we have a luxury few other states have, we have gas attendants to pump our own gas. We witness firsthand many of the urban myths often spoken of Denton and Trifacta County in general. The Sand Sinners from Olamota Lake that ate soley of a diet of Capri Suns and Fruit Roll Ups as their god was believed to do. In 1992 they kidnapped a 7 year old girl they found in the old Wilsons Graveyard finger painting on tombstones. They tied her to a tree and sawed it down outraging the whole community as well as their own God. The Sand Sinners God, Trivilto is actually a kind and just creator who is loving of all living things. The problem with Triviltio is he is known to be very self loathing with self esteem so low that he can’t stand the idea of anybody worshipping him. He hates himself to such an extent that he wants to be disobeyed by his followers. He wants to be critiqued and ridiculed and would damn anybody to hell that speaks highly of Him. Sand Sinners are known to curse their God and say his name in vein. Trivilitio’s morality beliefs are similar to those of Christianity. Thou show not kill, thou show not commit adultery. The Sand Sinners killed that little girl in order to offend Trivilitio and remind him that he is a pathetic powerless God that they would never obey. This guarantees them a place in heaven since in their God’s religious text, a 300 page suicide note, clearly states that he Triviltio hates those who love him and loves those who hate him. Trivilitio the God tried to kill himself using his almighty powers but was now capable of taking himself out rather by fear to execute or failure to properly finish the job. After a number of failed suicide attempts Triviltio finally gave up. It’s still regulary debated by Sand Sinners rather Triviltio really wanted to kill himself or if it was just a cry for help. Personally, I would believe it to be quite difficult for an all knowing being who created the universe and existed before time as we know it to be able to take himself out of existence.
Tia: Well guys I can’t think of any funny money tricks to trade. You two have shot down every idea I’ve come up with close range with daddy’s safely hidden handgun under the bed. No safety. The musical chairs you’d play musical chairs with. The hot potatoes toys that would get hotter and hotter. I don’t know where inspiration comes from but I know what kills it.
Tia lights up another Virginia Slim 100 and continues to smoke for the rest of the novel. Taking a drag after every paragraph. Lighting up a bogie with every new chapter. Ashing whenever a good point is made. Spoiler alert: Tia dies at the end while the ashtray stays half empty.
I speak up, “Your inspiration comes from your muse, usually a girl, sometimes a friend, maybe even a group, for some people a religious entity, and your creativity is limited by your muse. By who they are or who you think they are. They are the reason you wake up but also the reason you give up. We do things everyday while in the back of our minds wondering what they’d think. If we can kill our muses and prevent ourselves from finding new ones, there is no limit to the amount of success to be had. Just like that you will realize stealing toilet paper from local businesses is much more profitable than napkins and straws.”
To be in your mid 20s is a mid-mid life crisis. That’s what Kevin told me was his reason for burning down the house he inherited from his dead parents. Allowing his blow up doll to fall asleep with a cigarette in her mouth. The firefighters only got there in time to save the interconnecting garage. The garage is now connected to an empty lot. It’s not the nicest of neighborhoods but the sight for sore eyes does bring the neighbors property down.
Kevin says,” you’re right my cosmetic ship trolling the raven nested sea needs no accommodation by any trophy butlers basterd trying to do what I think is trite for I’m shy I if Elvis knew what he was getting himself into pen strokes clown at midnight. Have you ever seen the movie Jumanji?
It was settled that we would take up arms and do what must be done to eliminate the point in doing things and make ourselves and everything we do true art.
Fade In
“ So you got around 300 gum balls in the common by the fountain in the mall bubble gum machine. They use to sell for 25 cents when we was kids but inflation has raised prices to 50 small ones. That’s a one hundred and fifty dollar profit. Bust one open that’s about full and sell it for a street value of its original 25 cents and we got 75 dollars. Not bad not bad I would say, you think?” Says the asshole scumbag Kyle, my friend by default, being too closely associated to be considered only acquaintances.
I say, “I don’t know Kyle. I just don’t. I don’t know if there’s a demand for the product. People like soft gum. Gum that comes in packs. Most kids don’t want their pockets bulging out with big round gumballs, it looks bad. I told you so when Crystal told me she didn’t want to date you because you kept gumballs in your back pocket and when you’d sit down they’d get all mashed up together.
Tia takes a drag of her cigarette every time I speak. She doesn’t exhale till Kyle responds. She doesn’t ash until somebody makes a good point.
“Wait, what?.. Look. Listen. Crystal was a whorl and a half that had to use twice as many tampons as the average woman. Your point obsolete. You know how many candy machines are out there in supermarkets, restaurants, arcades? It beats selling drugs that’s all I’m saying, says Kyle.”
Tia: Why don’t you choke on a piece of gum, get it lodged in your throat. It’s too sticky for you to finger out. We can sue the makers for not putting a warning on the gum that says not to swallow it.
Tia ashes her cigarette and goes about being exactly what and who she is at any given time and space.
“Because then I die and it would be by suicide so I’d go to hell and burn for all eternity. God, you just don’t get it Tia! I need money now. Lawyers cost an arm and a leg and a dick.”
A moment of silence lapses between we three friends. We are all a tit frustrated with Tia. She’s had a ton of bad ideas lately. Yesterday she wanted to make a giant ski ball machine where you’d use bowling balls to play. She smells like Cinnamon Toast Crunch and she chimneys like a chain smoker. A good person she is though. Tia is a black lesbian woman which means she has plenty of human rights groups to choose from. She has a fetish for nuns, that same fascination with virginal innocence that all men have. You can almost smell the cherry scent of a woman if she’s still hanging on to perfection. I guess it’s growing up in a Catholic school with nuns as authority figures and mother Marries. She’s quite jealous of how some altar boys have been treated by their priests. She’s join the club herself but she doesn’t want the Whoopi Goldberg comparisons. Or to kill the dream that’s better than the reality. What we can’t have we always want. If we get it we just want more of it until it consumes our being.
“Look guys, I’m not trying to make so much money that we bring attention to ourselves with the Feds. I’m talking about small, little things nobody notices that keeps paying out. You can walk into any fast-food restaurant and steal the shit out of some ketchup packets, straws, plastic silverware. Hit the streets and make that dough. 100 straws for 30 dollars. Who wouldn’t want that deal? Fourth of July’s coming up, barbecues in every backyard. People need napkins, otherwise their hands are messy their faces are messy, around the mouth area. Think about it” says Kevin.
He sit in a square across the table from each other in Kevin’s garage. Boxes surround us filled with clocks of different fads and flavors. Clocks wrap around the walls of the always opened garage, none tick or tock. He aint Captain Hook but Kevin went through a phase where he wanted a separate clock for every minute of every day. So all the clocks are frozen at a specific time. 12 AM/PM is preserved for his calculator watch he never takes off unless showering since it’s not water resistant. Other artifacts of the garage=push lawnmower, broken space heater, three shovels, a Kid Rock cd with a fake signature (Kevin swears to Bill Gates that he met Kid Rock once in a record store in Philadelphia thumbing through Sonic Youth cassettes.) a tool box, and things you would find in a garage.
Living in Southern New Jersey is hard work for a living. Most the people here end up in the graveyard eventually. We live in the town of Denton where everybodies mom is a nurse or a teacher. Canada once called this the town where happiness shines on those who chase after it. I’ve come to the conclusion that when God painted this beautiful planet of ours he messed up on our little section of canvas and told himself he’d come back to correct and paint over it but got sidetracked with the rest of America and forgot. It’s not so bad though. Our Wal-Mart Is Super, the parking lot stretches out as far as the eye of your imagination can see. The Wawa’s and 7/11s stay open 24/7, 25 if it’s day lights savings time. And in New Jersey we have a luxury few other states have, we have gas attendants to pump our own gas. We witness firsthand many of the urban myths often spoken of Denton and Trifacta County in general. The Sand Sinners from Olamota Lake that ate soley of a diet of Capri Suns and Fruit Roll Ups as their god was believed to do. In 1992 they kidnapped a 7 year old girl they found in the old Wilsons Graveyard finger painting on tombstones. They tied her to a tree and sawed it down outraging the whole community as well as their own God. The Sand Sinners God, Trivilto is actually a kind and just creator who is loving of all living things. The problem with Triviltio is he is known to be very self loathing with self esteem so low that he can’t stand the idea of anybody worshipping him. He hates himself to such an extent that he wants to be disobeyed by his followers. He wants to be critiqued and ridiculed and would damn anybody to hell that speaks highly of Him. Sand Sinners are known to curse their God and say his name in vein. Trivilitio’s morality beliefs are similar to those of Christianity. Thou show not kill, thou show not commit adultery. The Sand Sinners killed that little girl in order to offend Trivilitio and remind him that he is a pathetic powerless God that they would never obey. This guarantees them a place in heaven since in their God’s religious text, a 300 page suicide note, clearly states that he Triviltio hates those who love him and loves those who hate him. Trivilitio the God tried to kill himself using his almighty powers but was now capable of taking himself out rather by fear to execute or failure to properly finish the job. After a number of failed suicide attempts Triviltio finally gave up. It’s still regulary debated by Sand Sinners rather Triviltio really wanted to kill himself or if it was just a cry for help. Personally, I would believe it to be quite difficult for an all knowing being who created the universe and existed before time as we know it to be able to take himself out of existence.
Tia: Well guys I can’t think of any funny money tricks to trade. You two have shot down every idea I’ve come up with close range with daddy’s safely hidden handgun under the bed. No safety. The musical chairs you’d play musical chairs with. The hot potatoes toys that would get hotter and hotter. I don’t know where inspiration comes from but I know what kills it.
Tia lights up another Virginia Slim 100 and continues to smoke for the rest of the novel. Taking a drag after every paragraph. Lighting up a bogie with every new chapter. Ashing whenever a good point is made. Spoiler alert: Tia dies at the end while the ashtray stays half empty.
I speak up, “Your inspiration comes from your muse, usually a girl, sometimes a friend, maybe even a group, for some people a religious entity, and your creativity is limited by your muse. By who they are or who you think they are. They are the reason you wake up but also the reason you give up. We do things everyday while in the back of our minds wondering what they’d think. If we can kill our muses and prevent ourselves from finding new ones, there is no limit to the amount of success to be had. Just like that you will realize stealing toilet paper from local businesses is much more profitable than napkins and straws.”
To be in your mid 20s is a mid-mid life crisis. That’s what Kevin told me was his reason for burning down the house he inherited from his dead parents. Allowing his blow up doll to fall asleep with a cigarette in her mouth. The firefighters only got there in time to save the interconnecting garage. The garage is now connected to an empty lot. It’s not the nicest of neighborhoods but the sight for sore eyes does bring the neighbors property down.
Kevin says,” you’re right my cosmetic ship trolling the raven nested sea needs no accommodation by any trophy butlers basterd trying to do what I think is trite for I’m shy I if Elvis knew what he was getting himself into pen strokes clown at midnight. Have you ever seen the movie Jumanji?
It was settled that we would take up arms and do what must be done to eliminate the point in doing things and make ourselves and everything we do true art.
Get over here!
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Comments
and fantastic.
It is humorous, poignant, and entertaining. If you could fill up a book with lines like this.....wow
"Most kids don’t want their pockets bulging out with big round gumballs, it looks bad. "
"Lawyers cost an arm and a leg and a dick"
"She smells like Cinnamon Toast Crunch and she chimneys like a chain smoker."
"Tia is a black lesbian woman which means she has plenty of human rights groups to choose from. "
"100 straws for 30 dollars. Who wouldn’t want that deal?"
"Tia lights up another Virginia Slim 100 and continues to smoke for the rest of the novel. "
"Your inspiration comes from your muse, usually a girl, sometimes a friend, maybe even a group, for some people a religious entity, and your creativity is limited by your muse. By who they are or who you think they are. They are the reason you wake up but also the reason you give up. We do things everyday while in the back of our minds wondering what they’d think."
"That’s what Kevin told me was his reason for burning down the house he inherited from his dead parents. Allowing his blow up doll to fall asleep with a cigarette in her mouth."
"It was settled that we would take up arms and do what must be done to eliminate the point in doing things and make ourselves and everything we do true art"