Writing the mundane observations, the slow decaying of a relationship and weaving into a piece that feels akin to something fantastical - what an art. I’m glad I found you and your project!
This story resonates with me in ways that feel other writers (and maybe even readers only) on this platform may strongly relate to:
Richard’s habit of putting off what matters most, of drifting through tasks while something deeper remains unresolved (of course!—how many URGENT things have I as a writer put off because I was consumed by words - “mere words” . . .
Yes: it feels achingly familiar. The way he rationalizes delays, convincing himself there’s always more time. Your prose, the way it floats—gentle but also insistent—captures that tension as well. The words seem to hover, asking us to pause and reflect, as if mirroring Richard’s own hesitations.
I admire the lack of heavy-handedness too. There’s a kind of grace in the way you’ve rendered Richard’s inner world. Very sympathetic—there's an understanding of his flaws without condemning him. It makes me think about the ways I’ve postponed things, telling myself I’d come back to them later, only to realize I’d let something or someone important slip (and how devastating that can feel too).
Thank you for sharing it. I think you’re really cool :)
Damn I did kinda predict the twist in my joking share of the story! I enjoyed the writing as usual and there were some really funny beats you hit well. You had a lot of empathy with the main character it's amazing you are able to be such a funny and lively writer while always being so kind. You manage to make the work well in this piece. We build immense empathy for him throughout it. The ending was fantastic.
I know, right? You can just smell the pimps a mile away. Dude, did you really find anything funny in this piece? I can't, for the life of me, figure out what tickled your funny bone!
Sandalore, This piece moved me. Richard is such an interesting character. The slow decline of a marriage is so true and so tragic. You are amazing. Love your writing!
I had a marriage like that, but inverted: I told Steve that creativity was never wasted; that just because he hadn’t sold a piece, didn’t mean it was valueless. He threw himself away despite me.
Wonderful idea. Will you marry me, Freda? If I write Tracy, she will have to be more Freda than mean ol Tracy. (Actually Tracy is just as frustrated as Richard, but her creation desires are something else…)
Exactly! At this point, Tracy is wide open; all we know about her at this point is wisps and distortions, and it’s all second-hand. You could go anywhere with her.
As I finished the last sentences, I got a very strong metal image of an actual flood sweeping poor Richard and his car full of words out of the dark parking lot, blissfully at peace at last.
Writing the mundane observations, the slow decaying of a relationship and weaving into a piece that feels akin to something fantastical - what an art. I’m glad I found you and your project!
You are on fire, Zivah! Thank you so much for your observations.
This story resonates with me in ways that feel other writers (and maybe even readers only) on this platform may strongly relate to:
Richard’s habit of putting off what matters most, of drifting through tasks while something deeper remains unresolved (of course!—how many URGENT things have I as a writer put off because I was consumed by words - “mere words” . . .
Yes: it feels achingly familiar. The way he rationalizes delays, convincing himself there’s always more time. Your prose, the way it floats—gentle but also insistent—captures that tension as well. The words seem to hover, asking us to pause and reflect, as if mirroring Richard’s own hesitations.
I admire the lack of heavy-handedness too. There’s a kind of grace in the way you’ve rendered Richard’s inner world. Very sympathetic—there's an understanding of his flaws without condemning him. It makes me think about the ways I’ve postponed things, telling myself I’d come back to them later, only to realize I’d let something or someone important slip (and how devastating that can feel too).
Thank you for sharing it. I think you’re really cool :)
"But despite their shared history, he didn’t really consider Tony a friend. He only tolerated their two or three dinners a year..."
This line and a few others really drive the "quiet" of this piece home for me. Well done.
Lovely writing. Felt the fog
Fantastic story. I love taking mundane things and just painting them, dressing up real pretty
I know, right, it makes for such vivid and grounded adventures…
Damn I did kinda predict the twist in my joking share of the story! I enjoyed the writing as usual and there were some really funny beats you hit well. You had a lot of empathy with the main character it's amazing you are able to be such a funny and lively writer while always being so kind. You manage to make the work well in this piece. We build immense empathy for him throughout it. The ending was fantastic.
I know, right? You can just smell the pimps a mile away. Dude, did you really find anything funny in this piece? I can't, for the life of me, figure out what tickled your funny bone!
Sandalore, This piece moved me. Richard is such an interesting character. The slow decline of a marriage is so true and so tragic. You are amazing. Love your writing!
Thank you so much, Jody! You made my day.
Loved this. The mid-twit was good, the ending even better. Great work!
I had a marriage like that, but inverted: I told Steve that creativity was never wasted; that just because he hadn’t sold a piece, didn’t mean it was valueless. He threw himself away despite me.
Some day, write Tracy’s story.
Wonderful idea. Will you marry me, Freda? If I write Tracy, she will have to be more Freda than mean ol Tracy. (Actually Tracy is just as frustrated as Richard, but her creation desires are something else…)
Exactly! At this point, Tracy is wide open; all we know about her at this point is wisps and distortions, and it’s all second-hand. You could go anywhere with her.
As I finished the last sentences, I got a very strong metal image of an actual flood sweeping poor Richard and his car full of words out of the dark parking lot, blissfully at peace at last.
I love that, Jenny. I don’t think Richard is finished yet, we may see him again and perhaps your image will appear!