When Rocks saw that another 12+k novelette had risen as from the dead with the blood of its stigmata still drizzling from its side and palms, he groaned and banged his forehead on his brand new usb keyboard, which made a clacking noise and spewed a random string of ascii characters across the blank WordPad page upon which he had been intending to make notes. Then, after reading the first paragraph, he banged it again: "There was a time when I walked looking back, so I hit my face hard enough to bleed. But the fear had a hold of me, and there was a man." How does one hit one's face looking back? What fear? Its disjointedness exacerbated by back to back non sequiturs called to mind the work of a writer friend who suffers from dysgraphia and is not easily read.
But then, somehow, almost as if against his will, Rocks, who spent most of his youth hoping and trying to accidentally die, became engaged. Many years ago, before he was banned for workshopping porn, Rocks belonged to a prestigious professional writer's forum administered by an equally prestigious up and coming literary figure. Among them was an Indian writer whose name he has forgotten, but whose wonderful fiction he has not. Reading this Treehouse sub, with its occasionally odd but always precise grammar, brutal honesty and beautiful (and also ugly) descriptions, reminded him of her work.
Good story, too. A coming of age piece written from the vantage of old age. The timeline sprawls, but never really confuses. The ending, which Rocks, uncharacteristically, isn't going to spoil here, is way cool but doesn't fit. The upturn of a smile is wrong here. This is not a comedy. Like all decent and true memoir, this is a tragedy.
But, even though this word count doesn't jibe well with TQR's carpel tunnel inducing format, and even though the first paragraph is, in Rocky Road's anything but humble opinion, overwritten, and the ending is escapist, and there is a mistake in "But pain was a lier too, on that day" (unless the pain was meant to be reclining rather than untruthful), Rocks is voting Yes! Wholeheartedly, too. This is well worth reading.
The topic has been locked.
Re:THE CASTLE ON THE TREE
Date: 2018/04/04 14:56
It has come to the Bull’s attention that the market where he purchases his feed is shutting down. Despite the fact the store is continually busy, the management says the people who come in don’t buy enough to justify the store remaining open. The Bull expressed his dismay to the CEO of the market, but it looks pretty hopeless.
The Cafeteria where the Bull works is also closing after being open for eleven years. It looks like a freaking conspiracy. These bastards obviously do not want the Bullmeister to eat. It is mighty depressing, like this cap.
However, this cap is in a different league than any sandwich the Bull procured from either of his chow haunts. It took a great deal of effort to plow through it at first, unlike any tuna melt.
It was a rough read, long and emotional. As I have stated in eth past, I’m an action kind of guy. Feeling and memoirs are just not my thing. This cap is chucked full of feelings, unspoken emotion, and pain.
The technical aspects of the cap are different but good. It jumps around from the dreaminess of childhood to the starkness of adulthood. It clashes and tears at the thoughts of the reader and leaves you pondering the cap, wondering why they didn’t do things differently.
I was especially impressed with this passage:
“Geography is pitiless when you are a child who is powerless to travel where she wants to. Her world is medieval, a frayed map of places she can reach by walking, a flat, pre-Copernicus world with, at the centre, her parents, cruel sun deities. “
There is so much truth to this statement. The Bull remembers being a tiny calf trying to go to Grandma’s house on his tricycle, making it a quarter mile before his parents retrieved him. That day he learned the futility of venturing far from home, so small in such a large world.
I’m not sure this cap is perfect, but it has merit. I also vote yes, maybe a little less fervently than Rocks, but yes nonetheless.