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Product of Tweek-new edtion By: Rachelle King on 4/30/2002; 5:53 AM “Hey, remember when you tried to sniff sand up your nose with a straw when you were like two?” Marie’s brother Will always brought up memories of being reared by addicts. “Uncle Jesse found you at the park across the street from mom’s old place. He said you even put the sand into lines. Damn, they started fucking us up early, huh?” Two decades later, Marie thought this memory mildly amusing as she listened to her brother snicker between words. Sometimes, though, she thought her brother spent too much time blaming the past for his own mistakes. “Jacob! Put that stick outside where you got it and come say hi to your Aunt Marie. Now, Jacob!” Marie squinted her eyes, holding the phone back from her ear as it was violently passed from adult to child. Asthmatic, nasal breathing transmitted through the phone into Marie’s ear. “Hey-a, Jacob. What are you doin?” A loud thud responded, followed by faint maniacal laughter and scurried footsteps. “Jacob, did you say hello to Aunt Marie?” Marie wondered why her brother even attempted to be firm. His son Jacob was a spoiled brat. She couldn’t ever really blame Will. Marie and her brother had both been raised the same way. “Yeah, Will. He said hi.” Hearing her brother shout for the last few minutes of their conversation was more then she could stand. “The doctor said he might have A.D.D.” Sounding a bit overwhelmed by this evaluation of his son, he continued on with rebuttal: A disguised attempt to soothe his worries. “But I think their full of shit. He’s just being a four-year-old.” Marie glanced at the blinking indigo blue numbers on her alarm clock. “Hey Will, I gotta go. I need to leave here for work in like five minutes.” Will sighed heavily in response. “Alright then.” It was one of those dormant “there’s no hope left for me” sighs that Marie was all too familiar with. Irritated by his reaction she jolted into a refreshed state of energy , attempting to give a speedy goodbye. “Okay, well call me next week or something and I’ll let you know what’s up with mom.” Marie forgot this was the reason she had called in the first place. Will had left a frantic message on her answering machine talking about how mom was selling again. “Shit, I forgot. Is it okay if I call you back tomorrow night? I have to leave for work now.” Another melodramatic sigh from Will signified his annoyance. “Yeah, whatever.” Anxious to get off the phone and out of this temporary feeling of stagnancy she hastily expelled another farewell and slammed the phone into the receiver . Stretching out the kinked muscles in her neck, Marie reflected on their conversation. She rolled her eyes inhaling deeply, then let the exhaled breath blow her bangs up away from her forehead. Massaging her temples, Marie gripped the coffee table with her toes pressing her back into the bosom-like coziness of the couch. Why did Will always have to sound so helpless, and what the hell was up with that sigh? Marie thought he did it to make his torment seem more authentic. St. Jo, Missouri was infamous for the sighing disease. Once one caught the disease, surrendering to its mechanisms was inevitable. The process reminded Marie of fish gasping for a final breath as their eyes glazed slowly over and their bodies finally subdued to a middle-American mindset.
RE: Product of Tweek By: Rachelle King on 4/15/2002; 10:19 PM This is more of an adventure into creative non-fiction. It's the semi-biographical story of my close friend. As of now, it is incomplete, but I wanted to get feedback on it in its remedial stages. Do you all think the images are effective so far? Any suggestions on changing the parallel/comparison between Marie being psycologically older then she is and her uncle pulling her up off the ground as a form of discipline? I had trouble tying to convey this metaphor.
RE: Product of Tweek By: Eoghainn Oniongardail on 4/22/2002; 3:43 PM Rachelle: Here are a few comments about your non-fiction project. In bold, there are some words you might wish to rephrase or cut, as they seem distracting or unexplained. (Of course, that is just my own opinion.) In italics are some suggested changes. >Marie remembers sniffing up sand with a straw when she was two. >Uncle Jesse caught her by the sandbox of a deserted playground. >No one had ever supervised her before. Why should this day be >any different? He snatched her up with the crab-like grip >that all informalized parents seemed to possess. Pinching >her small tentacle, he whipped her into an elevation she might >know at the age of eight or nine. Currently, Marie’s height >allowed her to have a keen understanding of adult kneecaps >(when observing)observed at eye-level. Yanking Marie into the height >of children six years older (then)than she was more (then)than just >a good parallel when utilizing clichés like “a fish out >of water.” Unfortunately, the child only lacked the height of >her eight year old mentality. >While at the age when most children begin to dabble >in the processes of developing a sense of what (other’s)others >think of them, she had already identified her negligence. >Marie often painted her legs in red nail polish to >protest the unflinching silence of her mother’s eyelids. >Mother absorbed the indifference that only needles give >birth to on the stained and sunken remnants of a >roadside throwaway. Defecated by the crusts of last >night’s highs, one lousy piece of furniture would be >the only inheritance Marie would receive if ever Mother >left the physical world: Mother’s mind had already slammed >the screen to the back door years before Marie was born. >Marie’s rouged baby fat only mirrored the surface of >her problems as she envisioned them. 1. The phrase "informalized parents" does not seem appropriate. Perhaps you are looking for something like "non-parents"? 2. "Currently" confuses me about the context. Are we talking about numerous periods of time here? It seems like time frame is not switching, but this word confuses the reader into thinking otherwise. 3. The phrase "when observing" is less straight forward than "observed". This is just a suggestion. 4. There is a confusion of the word "then" with "than" in two places. 5. Here is where I think you may have been asking for assistance. [Yanking Marie into the height of children six years older then she was more then just a good parallel when utilizing clichés like “a fish out of water.” Unfortunately, the child only lacked the height of her eight year old mentality.] I didn't get the meaning of "unfortunately". The bit about Marie's elevated height being 'more than a good parallel when utilizing clichés like "a fish out of water"' seems rather awkward. Isn't what you mean closer to "a fish in water"? I mean, you are saying that being pulled to the height of an 8 or 9 year old was symbolic of her true emotional level, right? To me, you are attempting to be too indirect here and it is confusing. 6. I thought the use of the word "while" at the beginning of the second paragraph was unnecessary and distracting. 7. This part is unnaturally wordy: "to dabble in the processes of developing a sense of what other’s think of them". It seems better to me to word it something like this: "At the age when most children begin to sense what others think (of them), she had already identified her negligence." Note, too, that you do not want to have an apostrophe in the word "others". 8. This is confusing: "Mother absorbed the indifference that only needles give birth to on the stained and sunken remnants of a roadside throwaway." Are you referring to heroin use by mothers who are sitting on an old, discarded couch? It doesn't seem to fit and leaves me wondering too much about the various ways to interpret the sentence. 9. Another confusing bit is this: "Defecated by the crusts of last night’s highs, one lousy piece of furniture would be the only inheritance Marie would receive if ever Mother left the physical world". This leaves me wondering how crusts defecate. Does "last night's highs" refer to the heroin in point 8, above? 10. Finally, in the last sentence, I was confused about the words "her" and "she". Do these refer to Marie or her mother? I do think you have some good images here, only it needs some touching up to bring them out. I hope my notes have helped. Best wishes on your project.
RE: Product of Tweek By: Rachelle King on 4/21/2002; 8:43 PM Thanks Eoghainn. I have difficulties with my creative fiction. I have always been better at poetry.
RE: Product of Tweek By: Mark Morgan on 4/22/2002; 10:49 AM May I point out that this is some of the best darn feedback I've ever seen, EO?
RE: Product of Tweek By: Rachelle King on 4/22/2002; 11:07 AM I was thinking of taking out the metaphor for Marie being older then she appeared all together. A two year old sniffing sand up with a straw seems just as good an example. It might be more practical to elaborate on where she observed the the drug inhalation technique. Last night's highs refers to Tweek-a cheap form of Speed or Crystal Meth. But since Tweek makes you ultra-hyper, I guess that's a bad image. Maybe I should explain that she [Marie's mother] is passed out from having been "tweeking" the night before. As for the old couch, I had found an interesting parallel with her and my other economically deprived friends- At one point or another we all had furniture that someone was throwing away on a curb, or used furniture that someone was selling ridiculously cheap for certain reasons. I wanted to show how drug addiction ultimately will bring about the destruction of the family's economic survival: Having a parent the does drugs equals dirty clothes, messy house, no food in the fridge, old smelly furniture, and no values or morals.
RE: Product of Tweek By: Eoghainn Oniongardail on 4/22/2002; 3:54 PM Rachelle, I had never heard of a drug called "tweek". That is interesting. Silly me: I hadn't even thought of Marie sniffing up the sand through the straw as going up the child's nose. Somehow, I got the image of her sucking up the sand through her mouth! That was sloppy reading on my part, though. I don't think sniffing generally refers to the mouth. Odd that I should miss that. :) Mark, thanks. I was hoping this was fine with you.
RE: Product of Tweek By: Rachelle King on 4/22/2002; 7:00 PM EO, there is a huge sub-culture of "tweekers" in all of San Diego County. Parts of SD are even referred to as tweekerville. It's turning into a huge problem because the drug is so cheap and it can be made easily. I know of whole familes that do it all the time together. It's really tragic. Mark's right. That was some of the best darn feedback I have ever received. You inspired me to change the entire piece around and tell it from a different perspective adding some dialogue [even though, I am worse still at dialogue.] Here's a little sneak peak. What do ya think? “Hey, remember when you tried to sniff sand up your nose with a straw when you were like two?” Marie’s brother Will always brought up memories of being reared by addicts. “Uncle Jesse found you at the park across the street from mom’s old place. He said you even put the sand into lines. Damn, they started fucking us up early, huh?” Sometimes Marie thought he spent too much time blaming the past for his mistakes. Nonetheless, it amused her that they could talk about such a disturbing memory while snickering between pauses in speaking. “Jacob! Put that stick outside where you got it and come say hi to your Aunt Marie. Now, Jacob!” Marie squinted her eyes, holding the phone back from her ear as it was violently passed from adult to child. Muffled breathing was now being transmitted through the phone into Marie’s ear. “Hey-a, Jacob. What are you doin?” A loud thud responded, followed by faint maniacal laughter and the scurried footsteps of a child on a sugar high. “Jacob, did you say hello to Aunt Marie?” Will always sounded stern when yelling at Jacob, but Marie knew he was really a spoiled brat. Surviving harsh treatment from adults as a child had made it almost impossible for her brother to administer good discipline. “Yeah, Will. He said hi.” Hearing her brother shout for the last few minutes of their conversation was more then she could stand. “The doctor said he might have A.D.D.” Sounding a bit overwhelmed by this evaluation of his son, he continued on with rebuttal: A disguised attempt to soothe his worries. “But I think maybe he’s just being a four year old.” Marie glanced at the blinking indigo blue numbers on her alarm clock. “Hey Will, I gotta go. I need to leave here for work in like five minutes.” Will sighed heavily on the other end. “Alright then.” It was one of those dormant “there’s no hope left for me” sighs that Marie was all too familiar with. Irritated by his reaction she jolted into a refreshed state of energy , attempting to give a speedy goodbye. “Okay, well call me next week and I’ll let you know what’s up with mom.” Marie forgot this was the reason she had called Will in the first place. Will had left a frantic message on her answering machine talking about how mom was selling again. Anxious to get off the phone and out of this temporary feeling of stagnancy she hastily expelled another farewell and slammed the phone into the receiver . Stretching out the kinked muscles in her neck, Marie began to feel guilty for hanging up. She remembered her brother’s sigh, sorrowful and scared from his extended existence in a place plagued with limbo. St. Jo, Missouri was infamous for this sighing disease. Once one caught the disease, surrendering to its mechanisms was inevitable. The process reminded Marie of fish gasping for a final breath as their eyes glazed slowley over and their bodies finally subdued to a middle-America fate.
RE: Product of Tweek By: Eoghainn Oniongardail on 4/22/2002; 10:28 PM The sneak peek at your Product of Tweek is much improved, I would say. It flows and pulls the reader into the story. I don't agree that you are worse at dialogue. Keep up the interesting work.
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