May 13th, 2019 - Brawler
Dear TNY,
Just dispatched “Brawler” on this sunny, PNW afternoon. I have some fucking thoughts.
Man, this story could have been good. Like, really good. It’s got grit. It’s got punch. It’s brief. And, for the most part, the writing is clean. But the story is shit-coated with so many fucking authorial clichés that it…okay, if this was baseball this would be a base hit. But the motherfucker would not get to second. Here’s the short list.
Right out of the fucking gate this shit is too goddamn writerly. Below is the first paragraph in it’s entirety:
Sara came into the blaze late, the boys already leaping froglike across the deck, the girls gone bald in silicone caps. In the afternoon sunlight the pool was harsh; she’d left it only this morning in the soft plum dawn.
Blaze? That’s either a stretch for the word or so specific to a sports thing that it doesn’t ring with this reader. Meaning the writer didn’t do his or her job. Especially considering the “bald with silicone caps”. Because what the fuck is that, in the first sentence, without a fucking pool reference? And soft plum dawn? Fuck. My. Face.
And it goes on. There are so many turns of phrase that are so fucking over the top “clever” that they piss off this particular reader because they betray the nature of good storytelling. The author isn’t telling the story to himself or herself, or shouldn’t be as a final published copy. He or she is telling a story to the reader so the reader can create the other half of the story in his or her head. But this writerly garbage doesn’t approach the reader like we are about to dance. Nah. This type of writing is about dancing alone on the dance floor because you think you look hot. But you don’t. Be considerate, dong.
The death scene is fucking atrocious. I’m singling this scene out, specifically the part where the mother dies, from the other over-writerly shit because, for real here, this is how thinking that you are self important as a writer can trash a fucking scene that is so critical that it destroys the story for someone. I learned that her mother died from the word “cooling”. So that whole “slipping” description was a complete waste of time. Why? It was this obscure-angle-looking, existential, TV-referencing, chunk of text that read like the songs by Tolkien (by that I mean I glossed it). Be better.
Oh, for funsies we also POV shift into the dude working behind the counter at a convenient store for no fucking reason whatsoever because we don’t see him before the scene and never see him afterward. That’s not even a fucking rookie mistake. That’s just editorial laziness. Ya fucking dirtbags.
There is so much promise here. I wanted it to be what it truly could have been. But it wasn’t. Mainly because you, TNY, didn’t do your goddamn job. You were too busy jerking each other off to see that what you are publishing is devoid of any real editorial merit.
But, I’m here to help. How about this, guys? I’ll edit this piece and then send it back to you. And my version will be better. Yeah? I would ask that I be allowed to back-and-forth with the author as I don’t believe that the edits should be all my voice. This is not my piece. But I can repair it. What do you say? Challenge accepted? And when I blow your version out of the water, I’ll be expecting my job offer quick as you can. Let me know.
Tootles,
Nick
