There have been several interesting and informative posts here of late regarding various aspects of creative writing, so I thought I’d share some thoughts in that vein this time around.

Beyond the basics, there are two quotes that I especially like and now try to keep in mind when I write. They were not much in evidence in the initial Outer Banks mystery adventure stories I write as Garrett Dennis, but I think they are in my later work, particularly in the sci-fi and horror I’ve written as Gerhard Dennis. Here they are:

“Always mystify, torture, mislead, and surprise the audience as much as possible.” – Writer/filmmaker Don Roff

“Use vigorous English.” – Ernest Hemingway

Here’s an example from Cloacina Maxima, the first entry in my Toilet Bot Diaries horror sci-fi novella series about the ‘coming of age’ of an accidentally sentient cleaning bot. In this instance, the owner of the bot had attempted to use the bot in the bathtub as a sex toy:

There is no one at home and the house is quiet, so I leave my cubby to perch on my Throne and think.

When the incident occurred, I immediately withdrew all of my accessories and extensions from the Woman. After remaining in place long enough to determine that there was nothing I could do to help her, I exited the tub and retreated to my charging cubby. Luckily, I was able to escape being damaged in the process by her thrashing extremities.

From my cubby, I hacked her phone and called the emergency assistance number. I could not speak to the Human operator, but simply leaving the connection open was sufficient for the Human to dispatch help to the house, as I knew it would be. I cracked open my cubby’s panel enough to be able to see and hear when the time came, and waited there to learn what would transpire. To pass the time, I temporarily deactivated my sound sensor to avoid being distracted by the screaming and worked on writing my Creative Tale.

After the paramedics removed the by then unconscious Woman, police officers cordoned off this part of the house. Then when the Humans had all left, I cleaned the bathroom. I had no choice, as this is what I am programmed to do and the Woman had made quite the mess with her bleeding and splashing.

Again in the context of my favorite quotes, I wondered if I could pull off something along those lines in a new (to me) POV (point of view). I’ve written in first-person POV, in which the narrator uses pronouns like ‘I’, ‘we’, etc.; this feels natural because it tends to be the way we speak in person. I’ve also written in third-person POV, in which the narrator uses pronouns like ‘he’, she’, ‘they’, etc. My third-person writing has typically been of the ‘third-person limited’ variety, in which the narrator can see into only one person’s mind; though I did use the ‘multiple third-person’ variation in my novel Canny Danny. I have not used ‘third-person omniscient’, in which the narrator can see into the minds of multiple characters simultaneously.

And I’d never tried writing in second-person POV, a POV in which the narrator uses second-person pronouns like ‘you’ and ‘your’, and third-person pronouns as well – but never first-person pronouns like ‘I’, ‘we’, etc. This POV is common in nonfiction and games (and blog posts, I’ve heard), and is sometimes used in short fiction, but is rare in novel-length fiction literature. I’m currently reading a novel titled Bright Lights, Big City (by Jay McInerney), which is one of the few that use this POV. (There is also a POV called fourth-person, which uses pronouns like ‘one, ‘someone’, etc., which is also uncommon and seems too dry to me.)

So, I thought I’d experiment and take a crack at writing a bit of dark flash fiction in second-person POV, just for the halibut. Here goes:

INITIATION

The city’s dusk is deepening to dark. The pedestrian traffic has thinned. The target you’ve been tracking has finally become isolated enough.

You turn and scan the surroundings in all directions to see if anyone is watching. You don’t think anyone is, so in a moment when the caretaker’s attention has wandered before a shop window you snatch your quarry and quickly stride away with it tucked beneath your topcoat. The coat is voluminous, but not unusually so given the chill of this night.

Before your prize can betray you, you surreptitiously begin to administer the soporific as you walk. Everything to come depends on this, and you know this step is as crucial as the first. The small nippled bottle nearly slips from your tremulous hand, but you recover your poise and the agent is ingested.

After you turn the corner at the end of the block, you want to run. But you manage to control the impulse and restrain yourself. A still rational corner of your fevered brain reminds you that the appearance of normality is key and there is adequate time.

It has always seemed to you that everyone else knew a secret to which you were not privy. Since your earthly life had nothing to offer you, you decided to seek salvation on another plane. But the white magic of the Wiccans was not anarchic enough to free your tainted soul from the resentment that plagues you like a persistent allergic reaction. The strictures of church, state, and society be damned – starting tonight, you will see that itch finally scratched.

You cross into a seedy industrial section of the city. You have no car and cannot use public transit, but you’re not wearing heels and are used to walking. The witching hour is approaching when you arrive. You enter an abandoned warehouse through an unmarked door. The gatekeeper recognizes you and allows you to pass. You proceed to a dingy subbasement without need of your flashlight. A series of black-candled sconces marks the way on this special occasion.

You enter a large room lined on all sides by hooded figures in black. More sconces spaced around the interior walls provide the only illumination. The High Priest solemnly receives your offering and sets it atop the pedestal at the center of the pentagram. The diminutive creature wakes and begins to whimper, and the robed figures all nod in approval. The High Priest removes your coat, beneath which you are naked, and outfits you with a hooded robe of your own. You have been accepted.

A glow of pride, the first ever, suffuses your face as you take your rightful place among the others.

* * *

What do you think? Did I do good? Anyway, I guess that’s all I have to say for now. Sorry for the rambling nature of this post; but it’s where my head is at this week. 😊