The "General Games Chat" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
Remember the WHSmith's 'Raw Talent' competition in which you had to send in the first chapter of a novel?
Well here's what I entered. Tell me what you think.
"Hot enough for you?" came a muffled voice from the darkness. The voice was deep, almost sinister, and seemed somehow mocking.
It certainly was hot enough, too hot. I could feel the sweat forming on my brow, and soaking into the bandages that covered most of my head. I wanted to answer, tell the nurse that it was too hot, ask her to do something about it, but I feared that if I opened my mouth, or even my eyes the pain would return again. Ever since I had woken from that terrible accident, I had experienced an incredible pain that felt like an intense burning, it would come at least twice a day, and last for around an hour.
I had tried to describe it to one of the doctors, but could never describe it accurately without bringing it on, and he simply said it was down to the severity of my injuries. I just couldn't believe this though. The pain was not the same as that in my broken arms and legs, or my fractured skull, those pains could be relieved by medication, not like this other pain, nothing could touch that.
"Your bandages can come off today Mr Harding, but I'm afraid you'll be in the casts for a little while longer yet." Said the nurse, I assumed it to be the same nurse that spoke earlier, but her tone had changed completely, she now sounded exhausted, yet caring. Maybe it was a different nurse. Of course, I could have simply opened my eyes to look, but I feared making any movement, for any movement could bring on the pain, and I wasn't ready for it yet.
The thought of the bandages being removed lifted me. The optimist in me told me that it might stop that horrible pain, that I would be free from it, the feeling that a red hot poker was being passed through my very soul. The nasty part of my mind wouldn't let me believe that the pain could stop, it told me I'd feel it forever, and that it would get worse and worse and worse. This thought made me retch and every muscle in my body went tight, and I thought that it was coming, but no, not yet, it had to torture me more. Sometimes the waiting was the worst part.
I opened my eyes. The light dazzled me for just a second, until my eyes became familiar with the surroundings. White, very white and clinical. A typical private room in a hospital, except for one thing, the curtains. The curtains seemed out of place in a hospital for a couple of reasons, but the one reason that stood out was their colour, a deep, dark red. I couldn't look at them, I found them disturbing, I had to look away, at anything. I found myself staring at one of those white walls. It must have been really hot in here, the wall appeared to be sweating. I closed my eyes, intending to look again in a second, convinced that my mind was playing tricks on me, but this only brought on what I feared most.
The pain was starting again.
Well here's what I entered. Tell me what you think.
"Hot enough for you?" came a muffled voice from the darkness. The voice was deep, almost sinister, and seemed somehow mocking.
It certainly was hot enough, too hot. I could feel the sweat forming on my brow, and soaking into the bandages that covered most of my head. I wanted to answer, tell the nurse that it was too hot, ask her to do something about it, but I feared that if I opened my mouth, or even my eyes the pain would return again. Ever since I had woken from that terrible accident, I had experienced an incredible pain that felt like an intense burning, it would come at least twice a day, and last for around an hour.
I had tried to describe it to one of the doctors, but could never describe it accurately without bringing it on, and he simply said it was down to the severity of my injuries. I just couldn't believe this though. The pain was not the same as that in my broken arms and legs, or my fractured skull, those pains could be relieved by medication, not like this other pain, nothing could touch that.
"Your bandages can come off today Mr Harding, but I'm afraid you'll be in the casts for a little while longer yet." Said the nurse, I assumed it to be the same nurse that spoke earlier, but her tone had changed completely, she now sounded exhausted, yet caring. Maybe it was a different nurse. Of course, I could have simply opened my eyes to look, but I feared making any movement, for any movement could bring on the pain, and I wasn't ready for it yet.
The thought of the bandages being removed lifted me. The optimist in me told me that it might stop that horrible pain, that I would be free from it, the feeling that a red hot poker was being passed through my very soul. The nasty part of my mind wouldn't let me believe that the pain could stop, it told me I'd feel it forever, and that it would get worse and worse and worse. This thought made me retch and every muscle in my body went tight, and I thought that it was coming, but no, not yet, it had to torture me more. Sometimes the waiting was the worst part.
I opened my eyes. The light dazzled me for just a second, until my eyes became familiar with the surroundings. White, very white and clinical. A typical private room in a hospital, except for one thing, the curtains. The curtains seemed out of place in a hospital for a couple of reasons, but the one reason that stood out was their colour, a deep, dark red. I couldn't look at them, I found them disturbing, I had to look away, at anything. I found myself staring at one of those white walls. It must have been really hot in here, the wall appeared to be sweating. I closed my eyes, intending to look again in a second, convinced that my mind was playing tricks on me, but this only brought on what I feared most.
The pain was starting again.
Page:
Here's the synopsis for the whole thing:
"My Own Private Hell" tells the tale of Paul Harding, a man recovering from a very serious accident, in which many people lost their lives.
Paul's body recovers completely, and he feels as strong as before except for one thing, an intense burning pain that comes to him periodically. Nothing he does will relieve the pain, and nobody can offer any explanation for it whatsoever. The pain become progressively worse, and more frequent, pushing Paul to the very edge of his ability to cope.
When Paul tries to go back to his life before the accident things just don't quite feel the same. Initially it's just small things, people appear to treat him differently. He puts this down to the accident at first, but as time passes it's not just small things that appear to be different. People's appearance's change, possessions don't look or feel the same as they did. Time passes at very different speeds.
Paul feels that his grip on sanity is slipping as the world he once knew changes so dramatically.
When he sees a familiar face across a crowded street Paul becomes quite distressed, for he is sure that this person was dead.
Paul begins to wonder whether he did survive the accident, and as his world falls apart completely he discovers that he is actually in his very own private hell, and he must suffer from that burning pain, and live in a world that makes little sense anymore for the rest of eternity.
Oh, and I do appreciate constructive criticism.
Thanks
"My Own Private Hell" tells the tale of Paul Harding, a man recovering from a very serious accident, in which many people lost their lives.
Paul's body recovers completely, and he feels as strong as before except for one thing, an intense burning pain that comes to him periodically. Nothing he does will relieve the pain, and nobody can offer any explanation for it whatsoever. The pain become progressively worse, and more frequent, pushing Paul to the very edge of his ability to cope.
When Paul tries to go back to his life before the accident things just don't quite feel the same. Initially it's just small things, people appear to treat him differently. He puts this down to the accident at first, but as time passes it's not just small things that appear to be different. People's appearance's change, possessions don't look or feel the same as they did. Time passes at very different speeds.
Paul feels that his grip on sanity is slipping as the world he once knew changes so dramatically.
When he sees a familiar face across a crowded street Paul becomes quite distressed, for he is sure that this person was dead.
Paul begins to wonder whether he did survive the accident, and as his world falls apart completely he discovers that he is actually in his very own private hell, and he must suffer from that burning pain, and live in a world that makes little sense anymore for the rest of eternity.
Oh, and I do appreciate constructive criticism.
Thanks
Your Honour wrote:
, but it just seemed
> average.Sorry.
ohh ouch
i liked it but like the guy said it wasnt very gripping
, but it just seemed
> average.Sorry.
ohh ouch
i liked it but like the guy said it wasnt very gripping
Top stuff. But if you want constructive criticism, I thought it strange that one paragraph you feared making any movement, like opening your eyes, and a paragraph later it starts with "I opened my eyes".
If you don't want constructive criticism just ignore that last sentence and concentrate on the first one.
Overall, if it doesn't win I'll want to know why.
If you don't want constructive criticism just ignore that last sentence and concentrate on the first one.
Overall, if it doesn't win I'll want to know why.
Ok, honest opinion:
It's good, but it doesn't grip me.
If it hadn't got significantly more interesting (the wrong word, but I can't think of the one I want) in the following page or so, I would have put it down and looked at something else.
There's nothing intrinsically wrong with it, yet it just doesn't grab me. I'm not caring why he's in the hospital, or even what's wrong with him.
He's just a bloke.
I know it's hard in the crap word limit they gave to get any sort of detail into anything, but it just seemed average.
Sorry.
It's good, but it doesn't grip me.
If it hadn't got significantly more interesting (the wrong word, but I can't think of the one I want) in the following page or so, I would have put it down and looked at something else.
There's nothing intrinsically wrong with it, yet it just doesn't grab me. I'm not caring why he's in the hospital, or even what's wrong with him.
He's just a bloke.
I know it's hard in the crap word limit they gave to get any sort of detail into anything, but it just seemed average.
Sorry.
Remember the WHSmith's 'Raw Talent' competition in which you had to send in the first chapter of a novel?
Well here's what I entered. Tell me what you think.
"Hot enough for you?" came a muffled voice from the darkness. The voice was deep, almost sinister, and seemed somehow mocking.
It certainly was hot enough, too hot. I could feel the sweat forming on my brow, and soaking into the bandages that covered most of my head. I wanted to answer, tell the nurse that it was too hot, ask her to do something about it, but I feared that if I opened my mouth, or even my eyes the pain would return again. Ever since I had woken from that terrible accident, I had experienced an incredible pain that felt like an intense burning, it would come at least twice a day, and last for around an hour.
I had tried to describe it to one of the doctors, but could never describe it accurately without bringing it on, and he simply said it was down to the severity of my injuries. I just couldn't believe this though. The pain was not the same as that in my broken arms and legs, or my fractured skull, those pains could be relieved by medication, not like this other pain, nothing could touch that.
"Your bandages can come off today Mr Harding, but I'm afraid you'll be in the casts for a little while longer yet." Said the nurse, I assumed it to be the same nurse that spoke earlier, but her tone had changed completely, she now sounded exhausted, yet caring. Maybe it was a different nurse. Of course, I could have simply opened my eyes to look, but I feared making any movement, for any movement could bring on the pain, and I wasn't ready for it yet.
The thought of the bandages being removed lifted me. The optimist in me told me that it might stop that horrible pain, that I would be free from it, the feeling that a red hot poker was being passed through my very soul. The nasty part of my mind wouldn't let me believe that the pain could stop, it told me I'd feel it forever, and that it would get worse and worse and worse. This thought made me retch and every muscle in my body went tight, and I thought that it was coming, but no, not yet, it had to torture me more. Sometimes the waiting was the worst part.
I opened my eyes. The light dazzled me for just a second, until my eyes became familiar with the surroundings. White, very white and clinical. A typical private room in a hospital, except for one thing, the curtains. The curtains seemed out of place in a hospital for a couple of reasons, but the one reason that stood out was their colour, a deep, dark red. I couldn't look at them, I found them disturbing, I had to look away, at anything. I found myself staring at one of those white walls. It must have been really hot in here, the wall appeared to be sweating. I closed my eyes, intending to look again in a second, convinced that my mind was playing tricks on me, but this only brought on what I feared most.
The pain was starting again.
Well here's what I entered. Tell me what you think.
"Hot enough for you?" came a muffled voice from the darkness. The voice was deep, almost sinister, and seemed somehow mocking.
It certainly was hot enough, too hot. I could feel the sweat forming on my brow, and soaking into the bandages that covered most of my head. I wanted to answer, tell the nurse that it was too hot, ask her to do something about it, but I feared that if I opened my mouth, or even my eyes the pain would return again. Ever since I had woken from that terrible accident, I had experienced an incredible pain that felt like an intense burning, it would come at least twice a day, and last for around an hour.
I had tried to describe it to one of the doctors, but could never describe it accurately without bringing it on, and he simply said it was down to the severity of my injuries. I just couldn't believe this though. The pain was not the same as that in my broken arms and legs, or my fractured skull, those pains could be relieved by medication, not like this other pain, nothing could touch that.
"Your bandages can come off today Mr Harding, but I'm afraid you'll be in the casts for a little while longer yet." Said the nurse, I assumed it to be the same nurse that spoke earlier, but her tone had changed completely, she now sounded exhausted, yet caring. Maybe it was a different nurse. Of course, I could have simply opened my eyes to look, but I feared making any movement, for any movement could bring on the pain, and I wasn't ready for it yet.
The thought of the bandages being removed lifted me. The optimist in me told me that it might stop that horrible pain, that I would be free from it, the feeling that a red hot poker was being passed through my very soul. The nasty part of my mind wouldn't let me believe that the pain could stop, it told me I'd feel it forever, and that it would get worse and worse and worse. This thought made me retch and every muscle in my body went tight, and I thought that it was coming, but no, not yet, it had to torture me more. Sometimes the waiting was the worst part.
I opened my eyes. The light dazzled me for just a second, until my eyes became familiar with the surroundings. White, very white and clinical. A typical private room in a hospital, except for one thing, the curtains. The curtains seemed out of place in a hospital for a couple of reasons, but the one reason that stood out was their colour, a deep, dark red. I couldn't look at them, I found them disturbing, I had to look away, at anything. I found myself staring at one of those white walls. It must have been really hot in here, the wall appeared to be sweating. I closed my eyes, intending to look again in a second, convinced that my mind was playing tricks on me, but this only brought on what I feared most.
The pain was starting again.
Page: