Newbie hoping for feedback

[spiritualcoma.livejournal.com]

New to LJ (please excuse any errors), and hoping the online thing will help a little with the book I am writing. I am currently trying a different opening to the story and would like some feedback as to what you all think. Please go easy with the red ink as I already know I suck at grammer lol. Thanks.

 

...But I already knew what the answers were. My life, filled with so many secrets, had reached its limit. There were so many things I kept locked away, burried in the past, that not even my closest of friends knew the real ME. And the latest added to the collection, was the one that brought me here. My very soul filled with such darkness, I was loosing myself. I need to tell someone, anyone, everything. But who could believe such a story? There's times when I don't even believe it. And where do I begin? Some of my past is a secret keep from me by those I once trusted. Will they not trust me either, after learning what I have kept hidden from them?...
     My childhood years were the most difficult to recall as I hardly remember anything before the move. I was born in Seattle as was my brother, I lost two of my grandparents when I was very young, and all of my friends when my family decided to pack up and leave the city life for the podunk backwoods of Montana. The rest is just a collection of images in my mind of simple things like scouts, bicycling with friends and playing with my dog. Eight years summed up in a dozen or so mental photographs. Try as I might, I could not seem to unblock the past and it left me wondering what could have happened back then to cause me to forget almost a quarter of my life?
     Strange that I don't remember the move to the counrty. There was living in the city, then living in the country, but nothing in between. I know I was angry at my parents for a long time for loosing my friends and having to start over making new ones. I was not much of a social person like my brother so it was a lot more difficult for me to adjust. Even as a child, I wondered how these people survived being so isolated and technologically behind the rest of the world. There was just nothing for kids to do out here and I was going bored out of my mind! But when school started I met Travis, my savior.
     Travis, like most everyone around here, was from a ranch family. Born and raised on a farm, he would probably die here as well. He taught me the sunny side to redneck life. My family already had a few horses and I knew a little about riding, but I was still a 'city slicker' compared to Travis. I soon learned a horse is far better transportation than relying on busses or cabs. It was like having the ultimate off road vehicle and not needing a license to drive it. In no time at all I had become 'country-fied' as my new best friend put it. The two of us became so close that if one was around the other was not too far away. As life sometimes goes, though, my family decided to move and I was forced to start over again. We stayed in the same general area, but to folk out here, that is about 150-mile radius. Home went from ten miles outside of one town to fifteen miles outside another, right in the middle of my first year of high shcool. I had to say goodbye to Travis and all my friends, this time not as many. To add to it, I lost a horse and dog to old age combined with a harsh winter within a month of the move. To the mind of a teenager, my parents were to blame.
     Starting at the new school was very similar to the old one. I quietly sat in the back of the class being invisible, while my brother drew in all the attention making friends. It took the focus off me, so I was fine with it. What I couldn't understand was how he managed to adjust as easily as changing cloths, when I was still emotionally trying to get over my recent losses. Worse though, I was beginning to get used to loosing those in my life. The reality of nothing lasting forever was sinking in, especially those who you are close to. It was not so much a grieving process, but more adjusting to being alone.
     Then it happened… to this day I still can’t figure out how. I woke up one morning and realized I had a girlfriend. And not just a girl friend, but I was actually in love with her. Yea, laugh it up. How does one end up with a girlfriend and not know it? I was so occupied with distancing myself from those around me, that I spent my days going about my normal routine. Slipping in under the radar, Heather took over the role in a way that felt natural, as if she had always been there. She seemed to be the only one who truly understood me. She would also become the best (and possibly the worse) thing to ever happen to me.

     Wiping the steam from the glass, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Questions filled my mind for the man staring back at me. What is happening to me? Am I having a mid-life crisis? Is it a nervious breakdown? Why am I suddenly loosing my mind? How come I feel my will to live slowly draining away?...

Comments

[duke-flieg.livejournal.com]

Hmmm... First off, even though you said that you didn't want a lot of red ink, I have to point out that spellcheck is not your friend. "Cloths" and "Clothes" are both plural nouns, but have entirely different meanings, "loosing" and "losing" are both words, but the connotations of them are entirely different.

As for the opening, I have to say that two paragraphs into it I would have shut the book. Too much information was being dumped, too rapidly, onto me, the reader, without any emotional commitment to the protagonist. In addition, I didn't even find the information to be interesting. One thing that might help is to put the last paragraph, "Wiping the steam from the glass..." at the very beginning. Then, at least, the ramblings will be obviously the product of a deranged mind and the reader will have a little more patience.

Explicit my comments.
-- Flieg

feedback

[spiritualcoma.livejournal.com]

Operator error in LJ-cut/posting, that last paragraph is actually the first. But I do appreciate the input.

[sh-laine.livejournal.com]

I wouldn't begin with the image of the protagonist staring at himself in a mirror. Does anyone do that? I know I don't. Nonetheless, it's one of the standard beginnings of stories. It bores me and makes me roll my eyes.

I happen to like questions at the beginning of the story; your questions drew me in. But, why are you answering those questions right away? I would be more interested in a story about a man trying to find those answers than in an info dump. I couldn't get past the opening sentence of the second paragraph (But I already knew...).

Laine

[wordswoman.livejournal.com]

If the intent is to depict a character who may be losing his mind, I'd much rather see this through action/events than hear all this internal dialogue. I don't even know this guy yet; why would I want his whole life story dumped on me?

If this is the story of a character afraid he's losing grip on his sanity (as you imply in this excerpt), let's see something actually *happen* that bears this out. Show him at work, for example, having some kind of inexplicable episode. Or have him run into someone who knows him from the years that he can't remember, so that their conversation can reveal how big the gaps in his memory are. Or have him go talk to a shrink.

I find it helps to imagine your scenes as taking place on a movie screen. What does the viewer see on the screen in the scene you've provided above? A guy standing in front of a mirror. No action.

[spiritualcoma.livejournal.com]

Thank you all for the comments and feedback. I guess it's back to the drawing board once again. Most the story has already been written, but I just cannot seem to find a good opening, may have to consider a complete rewrite just to get a decent start with good flow to the rest.