Agincourt

Mr. Nag here. Definitely time to work on Not Like the Others. Poor Kevin has been languishing in his desire to get to know Kieran better for way too long now! A

This post is about the short story One Night, Why Not appearing in the "Shorts" section. You may not want to read this post before reading the actual story first, because it may contain spoilers. This story, in an unusual twist, is told in the second person point-of-view. I usually detest this POV, but in this particular story, it works magnificently. The effect is to put you (the reader) in the position of the participant in the story. The premise is set out in the opening paragraphs -- you have only recently come out to your friends, and they are now getting ready to take you to a gay bar downtown for the first time. (As becomes obvious during the story, these are some of the hippest friends you could hope to have.) Every step of the evening involves overcoming fear, shyness, and nervousness -- yet each time the main character (that is, you) overcomes another challenge, it is incredibly gratifying -- and these hip friends are there to cheer you on. And the experience, and the freedom, are exhilarating. As the evening progresses, the stars just seem to align again and again. Eventually the main character (you) ends up meeting a totally hot guy who is amazed that you are at the gay bar so soon after coming out. One thing leads to another during a long conversation at the bar, and the next thing you know you are kissing this guy at the bar (as your hip friends cheer you on from their table), and he bashfully asks whether you'd like to leave with him. You go back to your table of friends to apologize for leaving your own birthday celebration, and they practically push you out the door to go with this guy. Of course, back at the apartment, sparks fly. It is simply a triumphant evening, a Cinderella-like experience of magic. I don't know what it is about this story that affects me so, but it is simply brilliant. I've read it at least half a dozen times and it never grows old. Well done! A

This discussion is about the story Save or Sacrifice, a 5-chapter story in the High School section. If you have not read the story you might not want to read this message because it may contain spoilers. This one certainly rates high on the angst-o-meter, but I found myself confused/perplexed by the arc of the story. Cory (the first-person narrator) introduces himself as a 16-year-old who has been involved with his high school gay club for two years, which he says has helped him tremendously. Ben, as it turns out, is a naive, innocent, and painfully shy kid, a year younger than Cory, who Cory takes under his wing and helps to be more comfortable with his sexuality. Ben develops a crush on Cory, which evolves into more of a big brother-little brother relationship, and then best friends. In due course, Cory persuades Ben to attend a dance where students from another school also attend. At the dance, Ben meets a cute kid named Chandler. Ben and Chandler hit it off, and start hanging out together, but for some (inexplicable to me) reason Cory is often in attendance as well. But Ben considers Chandler to be his boyfriend. Chandler, however, decides that he is more interested in Cory (presumably because Cory is more sexually experienced and willing to do everything -- it's very sexy as described). Ben eventually finds out that Cory has been seeing Chandler behind his back, and everything blows up between Ben and Cory. Meanwhile, Cory is f*cking Chandler's brains out at every opportunity. Here's where I become perplexed, however. Cory seemed to be fine with the concept of Ben and Chandler being boyfriends. Yet when Cory is busted, it suddenly turns out that Cory's true feelings were for Ben. And while Ben was (at least initially) feeling betrayed because Cory was shacking up with his (Ben's) boyfriend, depriving Ben of Chandler's affection, as later chapters unfold the real problem seems to be that Cory's having sex with Chandler deprived Ben of Cory's affection. But . . . I thought Ben and Chandler would have been the ones getting it on while they were supposedly boyfriends -- although we know from later story developments that Ben would almost certainly have said no to almost anything Chandler wanted to do with him. In a way it's not at all surprising that Chandler wanted to move on in order to find a genuine sex partner, given his obvious hormone overload. Anyway, somehow the story evolves into Cory's heartbreak over losing Ben. Wise Mr. Harris poses a question to Cory that causes him to realize that Chandler represents hot sex but nothing else -- no real depth of personal relationship. So Cory dumps Chandler, which at this point is way too late to salvage his relationship with Ben. When Ben, meanwhile, finds another boyfriend who seems to want to move faster on the sex front than Ben is comfortable with, it eventually leads to a reconciliation between Ben and Cory. But then I have to ask myself -- given that Chandler was such a sex hound, why would he have spent any significant time with Ben in the first place, since Ben quite clearly wasn't willing to move into the kind of active sex life that Chandler routinely seemed to follow (as did Cory, based not only on what he was doing with Chandler but also on his comments about his extensive sexual activity made at the beginning of the story)? And isn't a little weird that Ben, while seeing Chandler, implicitly seemed to think that Cory couldn't see anyone else? Anyway, I'm of course glad that Ben and Cory got together at the end. I was just confused about how the predicament arose in the first place. A

Well, it was with a guy my age who I met a week ago and we've been trying to find the right time to get together ever since. I won't get into the X-rated details here (I'll email you if you want), but let's just say that after a lo-o-ong time of making out and mutual teasing and stroking, I got on top in a 69 position and found just the right combination of hand and mouth so that he blew right through the roof. It seemed like he came for five minutes. And he was working on me, doing all my favorite things. And I mean all. And I made a mess. I love Elijah Wood, and I love looking at hot pictures of young guys, but I think I feel most comfortable with people that are closer to my own age. Which is not to say that I don't have a very good friend who's about 15 years younger than me, and really knows how to drive me crazy, so I guess I can't rule out clicking with someone even younger if all the right elements fell into place. Hope that's enough detail to satisfy your salacious curiosity for the time being. A

I'm on the first chapter of "Save or Sacrifice." Having just had a glorious sexual encounter myself earlier today, I was definitely in the right mood to read about Cory's initial sexcapades with Chandler . . . it was kind of like reliving my own! I'm envious, though -- I certainly never found anyone that sexy and that willing when I was in high school! I was way too shy and way too afraid to take a chance of being "exposed." So I'll check back when I'm farther along. A

Boy, there are so many things out there. Some of my favorites are very long form and would take weeks to read. In the somewhat shorter realm, there are some I like because they are quite provocative and surprising -- I would put Masquerade in that category. I like unusual coming-of-age stories such as The Activist. And as I've written elsewhere, I really like the Comicality story One Night, Why Not because it is just so glorious in each step of the main character's journey. Seems like it would be wisest to pick things that are short enough that people can keep up. A

This is a discussion of Never Again, a 4-chapter story in the "Other High School Stories" listings. Obviously, anyone who has not yet read the story might not want to read this because it may contain spoilers. (I'm actually kind of surprised that, given this a forum concerning stories, there are so few actual discussions of specific stories here.) So, my overall comment is that this story brings angst to a whole new level. But I could identify with Danny's stubbornness, and his decision to put up walls, even if they seemed self-destructive. Eddie's role in the story was interesting. There was another thread about sub-plots, and he may well qualify as one. What was weird for me is that point in chapter 3 where Eddie tells of losing his father, and why he goes to the zoo, seemed like it should be a great lesson for Danny about coming to terms with past events, but Danny took exactly the wrong lesson from it! Instead of reconciling himself to "the way things were," and deciding to close that chapter in his life (as Eddie had learned to do), he became convinced that all he had to do was talk at Adam and Adam would come back! I'm sure every reader felt like slapping him. It was also pretty funny in chapter 4 when Eddie turned around and thanked Danny for giving him the courage to talk to "flapjacks" when of course Danny had no idea that was happening. Another sub-plot twist. I couldn't really tell what it was, finally, in chapter 4, that caused Danny to do his 180 and finally put some distance between himself and Adam. It seemed like he had already had innumerable occasions of reality trying its best to hit him over the head. Why it suddenly sank in this time is unclear, but it's good that it did. Brice was such a good egg, and far more worthy of Danny's affection. Danny's mom kind of vanished from the story in the last two chapters (especially chapter 4). It left me curious as to whether she ever changed anything about how she dealt with Danny (for example, paying more attention to him and less to the cell phone), what became of his trashed bedroom and possessions, whether he ever came out to her and revealed his relationship with Brice, etc. Since the final paragraphs are written from the perspective of "years later," presumably she must have figured out something by then. Anyway, I'm glad that Danny finally decided to open up and take the risk of getting close to Brice. A

And . . . what happened? A

In part it depends on whether the story is long enough to allow development of ancillary stuff. James Scott Bell, who has written some terrific books about writing, suggests giving the main character two "trajectories" -- a personal one, and a plot one. Thus, in a detective story, the lead character has a plot trajectory to try and figure out "whodunit," but may also have a personal trajectory of dealing with divorce. The personal trajectory can tie in to the main plot, such that, for example, the divorce angle causes the main character to be in the right place at the right time (or the wrong place at the wrong time), but may also serve simply to enhance characterization and perhaps make the main character more vulnerable (and human). I don't know if you could really call them "sub-plots," but I like to have some kind of interesting side activity going on with the main character. Thus, apart from the principal thrust of the story, maybe the main character is also working on restoring a classic car, or likes to do Chinese cooking, or whatever, and engages in activities related to that from time to time. This is a way to add some flavor to the main story, and it gives me something to write about when I need to move things along. I think the side activity has to be in some contrast to the main story, rather than just an echo of it. Thus, if the principal character is an engineer and the story centers on engineering, I wouldn't make the side activity something else that involves engineering. It should be, say, photography, or sand painting, or guitar playing, or competitive kayaking. What about sub-plots involving other characters? Again, it's a question of space (in the story length) and focus. Say there's a secondary character whose principal characteristic is that he engages in a series of one-night stands but can't ever find any long-lasting relationship. (It is assumed that this character has some role to play in the main story.) The nice thing about weaving in sub-plot events about this secondary character is that it helps with the "show, don't tell" maxim. In other words, rather than the author simply announcing that this character behaves a certain way, the readers get to see it in action. But care must be taken not to let the secondary character, and associated sub-plots, run off with the story. A

I agree with Graeme -- the use of "out" as a verb has definitely entered the language, and nowadays has moved beyond its initial meaning of revealing someone as gay to any kind of revelation. The term pops up all the time in political blogs, for example, where people claiming one point of view are said to have been "outed" as actually holding the contrary view. I presume that dictionaries will catch up with this eventually. (I wouldn't be surprised if American Heritage has already.) If you're really concerned, most word processing programs allow you to add words to their internal dictionary so that the programs will stop flagging them as misspelled. A

Just to complete the package, I also found this explanation of the "C" symbol -- basically a "FAQ" page. I just read your 3-part interview that's mentioned in another post, and your mention of DomLuka led me to those stories. I can see why you like them. A

I guess I'm kind of old-fashioned about this, but my belief is that everything always comes down to whether you have a story. And by story I mean that there is a character who wants something badly, must overcome obstacles (both internal and external) to get it, takes action, and either succeeds or fails. Given that core, it doesn't really matter if the story is set in Indianapolis or the third moon of Jupiter. The thing about fantasy or science fiction is that it allows the author to explore some unique "what if" issues that would not be so easy to get at if the story was set in the real world. What if all STDs and other barriers to unprotected sex were wiped out, and people were free to couple with anyone they chose (male or female)? What if people could bond mentally with mythical creatures like dragons, and perform feats of derring-do? What if someone discovered that they were immortal? What if some disease made it impossible for anyone to go out of their home or have any physical contact with others? What if someone discovered they had a special power that no one else seemed to have? ... and so on. The point is, for me, the fictional setting -- whether realistic or fantasized -- is there as a platform for a story that contains elements that make readers want to find out what happens next. There have to be stakes, and they have to affect characters that we give a damn about. I think the main issue with futuristic/sci-fi/fantasy tales is that there has to be some kind of plausible logic, some cause-and-effect connection, set up for anything outside of everyday experience. A skillful writer foreshadows any unusual technology, mysterious spell, or other "new" element early in the story, so that later on, when that same technology or ability becomes crucial to the character's actions, the readers will understand what's happening without need for on-the-spot explanation. Indeed, the reader's knowledge of how certain things work can add to the suspense and dramatic tension when they see events shaping up in a way that may lead to the use of such things, especially if there is a great cost to using them (again, this would have been established much earlier). So, I would always ask of any fantastic creation: Does it add to the story? Obviously, JK Rowling included a lot of stuff that was simply atmospheric (Mrs. Weasley's kitchen, for example, where a bowl of something was mixing itself). But I believe the main pieces of magic or fantasy or advanced technology must serve the story. If they do, then the freedom is as extensive as needed to make it all work. If they don't -- either because they don't tie in, or because they just appear out of nowhere and therefore are implausible, or where there's so much of it that it interferes with the forward motion of the story -- then I say you have overstepped your freedom. But in substance this issue is no different from what would happen in a realistic story with realistic setting elements. As a separate note, I would say that for most readers, whatever the magic or technology is must be something that a normal person can relate to. A theoretical physicist familiar with string theory may be able to comprehend the implications of working in ten-dimensional space, but most people would be baffled (and indifferent). Thus, whatever the "stuff" is, it needs to somehow relate to the experiences of readers. They need to understand the effects, risks, consequences, ground rules, etc., so that some kind of story logic will play out. Hope this makes sense. A

It still is in two parts -- the link goes to an index page with two chapters. I still like "One night, why not?" by far the best of all of them. There is an almost electric sense of breaking through barriers, leading up to triumph at the end. And it is somewhat humorous that while the principal character believes that the "C" symbol is responsible for triggering the chain of events, it turns out that it's only role was to give some Dutch courage to the principal character -- his new-found mate had no idea what the "C" was for. Anyway, I thought I would post this in hopes that if someone else runs across one of the "C" stories on Nifty and comes here looking for more info, perhaps they will track down this thread and find the rest. A

As a public service to others who, like me, had to search high and low to find the "7 C's" stories, here are links I have found (I could only locate six stories): One Night, Why Not <-- My favorite Boy #6 Just What I Ordered Just By Chance Not Yet Visible and We Are Many <-- The creepy one A

I think every situation is a little different, and there often needs to be some kind of understanding at the outset about what is in or out of bounds. Much also depends on the skill and experience of the writer -- in other words, a beginning writer may have trouble grasping more sophisticated commentary. But here are some of the things I look for, and would comment on, in a story: 1. Do I understand what's going on? Is there anything that is confusing or inconsistent? 2. Has the author established a setting? In other words, are things grounded in some concrete time and place? 3. Are the characters believable? Engaging? Interesting to read about? 4. Do I care about what's happening in the story? 5. Am I experiencing the emotions of the lead character along with him (or her)? Or is the story more like a news report, where things just happen? 6. Are there obvious problems with grammar, structure, word usage, etc.? Any sentences with missing words? 7. Does the story jump around in point-of-view (something I dislike)? Do we inexplicably look into the heads of every character? 8. Does the story unfold plausibly? Are later events properly set up earlier in the story, through foreshadowing or the like? Are there unexplained gaps, or places where things happen inexplicably? 9. Does the story progress by means of actions and interactions of characters, rather than great amounts of exposition and explanation? In other words, is there a sufficient amount of "showing" rather than "telling"? 10. On the flip side, is there judicious use of summary and time jumps to move the story along from significant scene to significant scene, rather than including tedious moment-by-moment details of inconsequential activity between the key scenes? 11. Do the scenes include elements of activity (characters doing things) and setting (details of the location, atmosphere, sounds, smells, etc.), rather than just un-grounded dialogue between talking heads? Do the actions themselves help to convey the story? 12. Is there adequate and plausible use of subtext? 13. Does each scene carry its weight, in terms of moving the story forward or providing important elements of characterization? 14. Are there places where the author seems to be short-circuiting what seem like huge opportunities to take something further, in more emotional depth or dramatic payoff? Are there places where the author seems to be chickening out from taking the path of danger and adventure, or innovation, and settling for an excessively safe (and probably hackneyed) choice? A