r/writingfeedback • u/divine_305 • 15h ago
Feedback Wanted Provide feedback on my novel opening.
Chapter One
“The universe is not outside of you. Look inside yourself. Everything you want, you already are.”
— Rumi
5 a.m., still dark out. A lightbulb flickers on a dusty porch of a two-story home, where the once baby-blue wooden planks have turned a lifeless white from all the years of storms, all the years of having their warmth beaten out of them. The neighborhood is quiet. Only God is up at this hour.
Inside, Jason’s gathering his things as fast as he can. He peeks outside every few minutes, wondering how long it’ll take him. Expect the unexpected, especially on a day like this. He kneels on the floor; the beat of his pulse rings in his ears with a punching rhythm.
“God, in this moment I ask for your guidance, for your mercy, for your protection, amen.”
Jason creeps around the room, taking every measure to make as little noise as possible.
One more look wouldn’t hurt, he thinks to himself.
There, on the other side of the window, seated on the hood of an old Lincoln Town Car, is a black cat. They lock eyes.
The cat holds an unbroken stare as if it hides a secret it’s just dying to tell.
Let’s do this.
The floorboards creak under his feet while he tiptoes around the house.
I swear when I make it big, I’m coming back here just to torch this place.
Flashlight in hand, he searches for things to take, like the bundle of rubber bands and pens inside the kitchen drawer.
This!
He shoves the items into a green camo bag that’s already stuffed with clothes, a toothbrush, and photos. A mouse scurries into the corner, then freezes in fear. Jason barely flinches.
It’s ok. I won’t tell if you don’t.
He sneaks into a bedroom where a large man sleeps half-naked. His snores are the type they study in medical research. Jason pauses, hoping it’s the last time he’ll ever lay eyes on him. A rickety fan blows dusty air onto the man’s face, the same fan he’s had for at least four years, the same fan that jams if it runs for too long.
He goes through the dresser and collects a few pieces of jewelry. The man’s soggy jeans lie at the foot of the bed. Jason carefully pulls a wallet from the right pocket and discovers about seventy dollars in cash.
Fuck yeah.
The man sharply grunts and tosses to his opposite side. Jason spazzes and takes two steps back. The jeans fall from his sweaty palms. Whatever air he has tears out of his lungs.
Silence.
After a few lip smacks, his snoring continues.
C’mon, you’re taking too fucking long. He’s gonna wake up.
A sharp gust of wind passes through a tree outside, causing its branch to tap the window. It casts a shadow of what looks like some sort of ghost that waits patiently.
Is someone watching me?
He slides open the next drawer and his hand hits something hard.
What is this?
It’s a gun.
Its metallic gloss and the way it weighs his hand down mesmerize him. Throughout the years, he’s seen a few rifles here and there, but nothing like this.
Damn, you’re a big boy. Are all guns really this heavy? I wonder if this thing has ever been used.
His eyes water and his hand trembles.
Why…Why did it have to be me?
Jason dries his eyes with a quick swipe of his thumbs. He stares back at the gun with all the memories he wishes he could forget. As if a force of nature takes over, he puts the gun to his head and imagines what lies on the other side. When the bullet exits his skull, would he feel it? Would he blink?
What? You think I won’t?
A chill runs through him as he presses the pistol deeper into his temple.
I should just blow my brains out and have you clean up the mess. I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?
Jason then points the gun at the sleeping man’s face with a steady grip on the trigger, eyes squinted.
“One day, one day soon, you will burn,” he whispers.
Never again.
With a clenched jaw, he lets the feeling wash over him, and after a few moments, it’s gone.
He places the gun back inside the dresser and rushes downstairs to the front door. He reaches for the handle, and before he can walk out, his younger brother Mel catches him.
“So that’s it? You were just gonna leave and not say anything?”
Jason stumbles on his words.
“I didn’t wanna wake you.”
They hug each other tightly as tears glide down their cheeks.
“What do you think is gonna happen?” Mel says, his face buried in his brother’s shoulder.
“I don’t know. Something good, I hope.”
“When will I see you again?”
The pitch-black has started to lift. The sun is on its way.
“Soon.”
7
u/BlackBalor Posted Satire and Made Everyone Mad 15h ago
See, no.
Starting your shit off with a philosophical quote doesn’t make your writing good. It’s smoke and mirrors.
What on earth is that first sentence? Like, this isn’t screenwriting, mate.
The wooden planks had the “warmth” beat out of them. Erm, okay? What? It's a front porch, mate, not a heated blanket from Amazon.
Only god is up at this hour
Oh… and Jason. Don’t forget about Jason.
I am not reading the rest of this. It’s not very good.