Stardom

This is a [very] short story based on a writing prompt I heard on Writing Excuses. The prompt: Write about something unusual that would stop an author from finishing their novel.

Douglas McDougal knew that he was destined to write the most ingenious novel that had ever graced the World’s populace.

The prophecy had first been spoken to him one Thursday evening at the Great Geauga County Fair. He was 12 at the time, and had chosen to spend his hard earned lemonade money on a fortune teller rather than the balloon pop games that his mother had suggested.

Douglas was now in his early twenties and could still remember the exact wording of the fortune teller’s prophecy. At this point in life he was also fairly sure that the haze in her tent was not from the incense she was burning. Her words were these:

Your story will be stellar, and the Earth will stir when it is told.

The 22 year old success in the making was finally ready to tell that story. He tirelessly worked through months of research and prewriting, and he finally felt that he was prepared enough to dive into the opening chapters of his bestselling debut novel.

Douglas “Dougie Fresh” McDougal sat down at his desk, turned on his computer, opened up Microsoft Word, and was about to write the opening scenes when a loud boom of thunder startled him out of his focus. He immediately felt foolish for jumping at a silly storm, and was glad he lived alone so no one was around to see him.

Back at it, Doug. He renewed his determination, put butt to chair, and hands to keyboard, and wrote the first few pages. They were great, flawless, no one would be able to find fault with anything he had written so far. He read back through it and was assured that the fortune teller was right, he was going to be a star.

A crash of thunder sounded again. It shook Douglas’ house and his attic office was filled with the blinding white of lighting.

… Except it was not lightning. The white light did not flash, it was persistent, and Doug could not see anything at all. His jaw went slack and his body began to quiver. He could feel his body begin to life off the ground as if gravity no longer worked for him. His down became up and he crashed into what he could only assume to be his ceiling.

Once he got his bearings and got ahold of his wits, Doug tried to stand up. It was an effort just to get onto all fours, the slant of his roof and painfully intense light working against him. He strained multiple times to get himself on two feet. He would place his hands onto his knees and struggled to push himself upright. Each time, he was forced back onto the ceiling. After the fourth attempt he was finally able to stand straight for a split second before whatever was pulling him upward pulled even harder and he collapsed.

The ceiling began to creak and moan, and Doug cried out from the pain of being crushed into the wood paneling. His screams got louder and more agonized, and when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the roofing gave way and Doug burst into the open air. Higher and higher he rose, but not a single thought passed through his mind. There was only the pain and the fear.

The radiance of white finally ceased, and Doug felt the coolness of metal on his skin. He opened his eyes, blurry from tears, to see the vague outlines of gray. They spoke in a language he could not understand. It seemed that they were asking him questions, but he could not muster the strength to respond, let alone run away.

He shifted his focus, and took notice of where he was. The room was perfectly round, and composed of a shiny metal. There was a single window that wrapped around the vessel. Through it Doug could see the clear night sky, with its spread of twinkling stars. It was in that moment that he realized the truth of the fortune tellers prophecy. His story was stellar in deed.

Author's Note

I am relatively new to pursuing writing seriously. I am looking for any feedback you can give.

Reviews

[LastMonth]

Ha. I loved the last line. 'His story was Stellar indeed.' Was that perhaps a hint at the word Interstellar or am I just reading too much into things..? Anyhow, giddy feelings aside, on to the review.

Choice of words:
Your quality is easy to see. While I am not a native english speaker, I can tell when someone has a wide arsenal of words at his disposal. Slacked jawed, slant, muster, twinlking stars, all great ways to morph the english language to properly immerse the reader.

Plot:
Well, it seemed pretty slow at first. I was thinking this will end up being just another 'Writer is trying to write so he is writing about a writer, who is trying to write.'' If you get my point. I've seen it many times and it gets tidious. But--- You curveballed me. This isn't a story about a man writing a story. This is the tale of a man who experience the story. Love that.

Character:
Now, this Dough fella seems like it is a Self insert character. What I mean by that, is that my initial vibe is that you're writing -You-, now, obviously I may be wrong since this is but the begining, but I'd love to see more features of him as a persona. His traits, his likes and dislikes and his flaws.

Overall I gave you an 80. Now that's good, since I usually rate chapters lower, mostly because you can't judge a slice, you need to see the cake as a whole. I'd love to read the next chapters, you are new, so are many of us. But you seem like you got the right ideas going on in your mind.

Best of luck mate.

[Daniel Seward]

I liked the contrast between what Douglas thought his fortune was with the actual abduction. Style of writing could be more succinct--quick visual flashes to add drama. The flashes could be conveyed in minimal wording for more punch.