04davjac

lol hey!
im just wondering, does literature count as art?
cuz herein after is a post about a book im writing lol.
This is the opening to ma book, i have temporarily stopped writing it because it is really hard, cuz i dont want it to have a plot and also the book is a huge metaphor about my mind and i dnno lol and its really ard to think of wat 2 write wen there is no plot!!:::

part one:
25th December, 2020.
The desert isn't a very nice place to be at 6:00 am on any day, let alone Christmas day.
The sand, once golden but since been turned black by some unknown forces, was still.
There was no wind to speak of, no life to speak of other than a few dying cactus dotted around.
The desert was so hot and baron even those, indestructible plants couldn't survive.
There was no movement to be seen other than the palm trees of any oasis that wasn't really there.
At the top of a mountain of black sand, there stood a figure, standing deadly still.
The figure was tall and had black hair that looked like it longed to get away from the figures head, as if it longed to get away from the secrets that were stored in there, the lies, the thoughts, the darkness. The figures eyes looked cold and dead, as though the person behind them couldn't feel anything any more, as though years of secrets and lies and isolation had killed its heart, taken out its soul and stopped it from feeling love, sorrow, kindness, worry, all emotions except one; hate.
The most powerful of all feelings. The one feeling that can have the power to knock down buildings, destroy lives, cause pain and misery and end worlds.
The figure moved. Two dog tags hanging from a chain show some ones name, the figures name; Jack Davis.
Jack stopped suddenly, and turned around as though checking for something. It happened in an instant, two more figures appeared out of no where, they landed either side of him and both grabbed his shoulders. At that second everything came to life, the cactus were green again, the wind rose, the oasis really was there. However, the sand still remained black and there was a 20 foot high wall covered in electric wire and barbed wire surrounding the oasis, as if daring something to try and get near it.
***
'Hi jack' said the tallest figure to jacks right, his eyes were also black but his hair was blonde. He looked as though the rest of his body was emotionless and dead but his hair refused to die, and give into desperation.
'Why have you come here?' replied jack in a grunt.
'We were sent here' said the figure to the left of Jack before the other could answer. This figure was the most alive out of the three, his skin was tanned, his eyes were blue and his hair too was blonde.
Jack started walking towards the guarded oasis, the two figures followed a few steps behind. From underneath his heavy black coat jack took a hand gun loaded it and turned round and shot the blue eyed figure in the chest. Then he turned back around and carried on walking.
***
Jack woke up with a start. It was cold inside the bedroom of his west London apartment. He sat up, got dressed, and put his gun into his holster. People often tried to kill him whilst he slept, so jack had taught himself to sleep with his eyes open as some form of reassurance. His employers had offered him a body guard but he refused and simply told them 'i can look after myself'.
Jack went into the kitchen where his maid Claudia was waiting for him with a bowl of porridge in her hand. 'Your breakfast sir.'
Jack's response was the same as ever, ' It's far too dull eating at home, much more fun to eat out where the chance of me being poisoned is much higher. Eat it yourself Claudia.'.
Jack was met at his door by James. James' skin was tanned, he had blonde hair and deep blue eyes.
'Morning Sir' said James upon seeing his boss.
'Just take me to work, i don't care for small talk. And don't disturb.'
Jack wasn't the type of person who talked much. He hated company, he was dead inside.
As he sat in the back of his car pool on the way to Vauxhall cross, he was thinking about the dream he had just experienced. He often dreamt that same dream. That dream was him, he was Jack Davis and his character was the same in real life as it was in his dreams.
'Don't you find it lonely living in that big apartment all alone sir?' asked James. That was too much for Jack. He hated being disturbed. 'Stop the car now James, I'll walk the rest of the way.' ordered Jack.
'But sir it's 5 miles! I'm sorry sir just get back into your seat and i wont disturb you again.' replied James trying desperately to keep Jack in the car and to save his job.
'I SAID STOP THE CAR! I don't care whether or not it's 5 miles. I do have means of transport other than this. Now stop the fucking car or you won't live long enough to drive another 5 miles!'
James slammed his right foot onto the brake and Jack got out banging the car door behind him.
He walked the whole 5 miles, when he got to Vauxhall Cross he signed in at the main office and continued up to the 15th floor. He walked past his secretary ignoring her cheery welcome and barged straight into his office. As he sat down at his desk his phone started ringing, He buzzed his secretary and told her to tell whoever was on the line he was away from his desk and then he unholstered his gun and lay it on the table.
He liked having his gun lying on the table, it meant that he already had his gun out and he felt safe with the thought that with a single movement, he could scoop up his gun, load it and shoot whoever is attacking him straight in the head.
***
lol i just realised its really cheesy!

__________________
J. Davis.
The man in my avatar is not me! He is Geoff Lloyd from The Geoff Show: www.virginradio.co.uk/geoff

Adrastus

Ahah man no its good, and yes of course writing a novel is art ! One of the best In my opinion, solely because there is very little else I would be good at ahaha. But if you don't mind a bit of constructive ciritism, and im not author at all, but I found that his morning routine was rushed too quickly, it didn't give me enough time to realize that he was the same person in the dream. Also you may want to revise a few of the details, but there is plenty time to flourish on the story. Here's the best way to put it, "Take the right amount of time to stop and smell the roses, before you move onto the next"

But bravo man ! and its not cheesy at all, I think it could get interesting, I'd like to see what this guy does, whats the meaning behind these dreams, and why he considers himself so heartless and dead inside. But elaborating on minor details even just a little bit more would give the reader that sense of immense imagination to realization.

Thanks for showing us ahah : )

__________________
Never argue with idiots, in the end they will just beat you with their experience.

04davjac

thanks adrastus,
i'm not really sure how i would elaborate on his/my morning routine.
i agree that it would be a good thing to do but i currently have "writers block" lol
here is a little background info.
The main character (Jack Davis) is in many ways based on me / my mind.

well to be honest, that all the info. you need atm lol

__________________
J. Davis.
The man in my avatar is not me! He is Geoff Lloyd from The Geoff Show: www.virginradio.co.uk/geoff

Adrastus

lol , i figured as much ahah : ) however I don't know much about you, so its kinda hard to compare.

__________________
Never argue with idiots, in the end they will just beat you with their experience.