View Full Version : POV

03-03-2005, 01:14 AM
I got another one, on everyone's favorite subject: POV.

Use the following prompt and write a short story (same story) of less than 500 words using three different POV versions: 1st person, 2nd person, 3rd omniscient, 3rd (rotating) limited or 3rd objective. You can choose any POV characters, but stick with the type of POV narrative. Please indicate the POV before each version of the story.

Here's your prompt:

Two strangers meet at a cemetary.

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 12:09 PM
Hey -

I like this exercise, so I'm going to do it... right here, right now. Kind of like Harlen Ellison writing a story in front of an audience. Only, this is my warm up for my real writing session. LOL!

So I have no idea how this is going to turn out... let me lay down some ground rules for myself. 1) Double paraenthesis indicate authorial freewriting, so feel free to skip... 2) I will be done within an hour, and 3) no revision after the fact.

Okay, it's 12:10 AM right now, let me get some incense burning, put on some music and drink my customary shot of vodka...

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 12:17 PM
12:21 by my clock and I got the preliminary stuff out of the way.

I've got Miles Davis Pangea on right now, I have the basic premise ready to go...

12:24 by my clock and I'm settled in. This exersice reminds me of the Lars Von Trier film the 5 obstructions, where he gives a film maker different obstructions in the course of making 5 short films. In this case, the main obstruction is shifting point of view... then I have set up my own ground rules on top of that... ahh, ok, rule # 4) the story takes place real time. So whenever I start to write the first word, is when the story also starts, to be finished within an hour, starting...

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 12:44 PM
... Now where was that damn turn off, he thought.

12:26 by his watch. It was a clear night, at the begining of fall and it was warm enough for him to walk with his jacket wrapped around his arm. On the outskirts of the city, he could see the lights of Las Vegas as their tilt a whirl delsions lured visitors in with the promise of sin and luck.

He wasn't feeling very lucky at the moment. The meeting was suppposed to take place at 1 AM, and the directions had been vague at best. No one he had asked seemed to have heard of this church, and he was barely able to find the right suburb outside of Vegas.

12:30 by his watch. An airplane began it's descent overhead and in his mind, he designed the perfect trajectory and equation of landing space. Cars passed him along both sides of the road, their lights giving him some sight along his dark path. He passed a patch of Bouganvilla, and remembered the cabin by the lake he used to go to as a child with his grandmother. Odd, that he should remember that now.

((Potential plot point for later use... what is important about the cabin? Maybe he found a journal and read something he wasn't supposed to know, or found some photos, and this changed him into the person he is now... we can have him remember the photos and use that as the time to switch the point of view... what is important about the photos? Table it for now, get back to the writing.))

12:35, by his watch. Time moved on relentlessly, like people and their cities, moving on and on, until everything was built and destroyed and rebuilt and redestroyed. Man becomes dust becomes man becomes dust.
He began to pass a graveyard. He remembered the directions he had been given. He had been waiting in the airport terminal at the phone booth and had briefly lent his paper to a tourist when the phone rang. He tore a piece from the phone book to use to write down the directions, but had left it there in the booth. When he came back for it, it was gone. What he remembered was the church was near a graveyard, which was itself near an airport.

12:39 by his watch and another plane began it's descent overhead. He looked over the green expanse of lawn and the many tombstones littering the graveyard, he listened for a moment to the sprinklers that were spraying the grass at that moment, and then took a hop over the low, brick wall that seperated the cemetary from the sidealk. A couple of kids were riding their bicyles past him as he landed on the other side, and they stared at him as they rode past.

He laughed to himself and then recalled the bicycle he had as a child.

12:42 by his watch and he again recalled his summers at the cabin. One day, when his grandmother had stepped out to take a walk, he had been rummaging around for spare change. He liked to play video games at the drug store in town and never had enough change to do it. He had been given a coupon for a free slushie and was eager to go get it. After checking the cushions underneath the sofa, he began looking on the shelves of the book case, where a few odd coins occasionally ended up.

He happened to knock a book off the shelf, and a photo fell out of the book. He picked the photo up and just as he saw it, his grandmother came into the cabin, unexpected. He put the photo and, accidentally, the slushie coupon into the book. Then he fled, ignoring his grandmothers calls. He got on his bike, but instead of riding into town, he just rode until he ran out of energy and couldn't ride anymore. He stopped under a large elm tree... a group of Bouganvilla's were nearby, and he wept.

12:47 by his watch and as he walked amoung the dead, he recalled the image of the photo. His grandmother and her boss, gently kissing each other for the picture taker, in front of a chapel.

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 12:48 PM
12:50 and I'm taking a little breather. I have a feeling I won't make the hour deadline, but oh well.

My back is starting to hurt... got to get back to the piece, as the characters are supposed to meet in real time at 1 AM.

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 12:58 PM
12:53 by my watch and I held the photo in my hand, looking at it again. Two older people in front of a chapel, kissing each other for the camerman. In front of me is the chapel from the photo. I waited for the last piece of the puzzle to arrive.

All those years I had waited for the moment I could solve the mystery to the picture and now that it was almost here, the feeling was beyond measure... like describing a cathedral to a blind man.

12:56 by watch and I sat down on the steps leading up to the church, waiting.

I looked out amongst the graves, and spied someone walking though the middle of all of them, getting wet from the sprinklers.

12:58 and he was coming closer to me. My father may have objected to this little scene, but he was only a ghost at this point, amongst the many at this site.

12:59 and the man was almost within calling distance. There was order to the seeming chaos of my plan, one that had spent many years being conceived... it was a dark embreyo in my life, I was midwife to its hidden architecture.

1:00 AM by my watch and the other man came up to me and stopped. We stared at each other for a moment, trying to resolve our identities in the darkness.

"Hello," I said. "I am your brother."

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 01:03 PM
1:07 and we are definately behind... oh well. My back is acting up a little, so I will stretch it a little and put the second side of Pangea on.

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 01:22 PM
1:22 and I am ready to begin again. I stretched my back for a bit and played wiht the cat while thinking out where to go next. I tis still coming to me as I write. Reading over the directions, I realize I misread the exercise... lol!

Oh well, I think this wil be intersting in its own right.

Okay, time to light another incense stick and take another shot.

1:26 and back to the plan at hand.

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 01:47 PM
Original Time of Report: 1:27 AM

Incident Filed: Gunshot, attempted murder, resisting arrest.

Witness List:

William (Boy age 11)

Ted (Boy age 11)

Officer Santos

Original Statements:

William: We were just riding our bikes, you know, out doing stuff. Yeah, we weren't supposed to be out, but no one was supposed to know.

So we were out riding our bikes... Ted and Me, and we saw this guy jump into the graveyard and we thought it was kind of weird, you know. Like to be jumping into a graveyard in the middle of the night. So me and Ted decided to go around and see if we could see anything.

Ted: Yeah, so... umm, what should I say? Oh, yeah... about the guy. I don't know, he was just some older guy, he didn't seem strange...

William: He saw a guy beat up a woman once in front of an apartment.

Ted: Ohhhh yeah, ****! Oppps, I mean, shoot yeah. He was beating her up and he was acting all funny... huh? Oh, sorry.

Yeah, so we rode around the side cuz we know that area really well, like we go riding there all the time. We saw he was going to the church so we rode around that way, and just as we got to the front from the street, that's when this dude... I'm mean, the officer, he came up and was like, telling us to stop and ****... Oops, sorry.

William: We got there really fast, too... like we've never gone that fast, except the time where my sister fell and hurt herself and they took her to the hospital and I was supposed to stay home but I followed them and I got lost and went to the wrong hospital... oh, I didn't mean to talk about that.

Officer Santos: I apprehended the boys around 1: 17 AM. I found them in front of the church and first suspected them of the vandalism that has been occuring in the area. Since we belive the vandalism to be the work of the same person who is suspected of strangling to death the elderly couple last week, I immediately changed my mind and was a little worried that they should be out so late.

They told me a man was in the graveyard and they had seen a monster around the back of the church. I didn't know what to make of it, so I put them in the back of my patrol car and called in what I was doing.

This was 1:23 by my watch. I was a little worried as I walked around the side of the church, I guess I'm a little superstitious... I can't help it. I was raised to believe in ghosts.

Anyway, I tried to keep my focus. I counted the rounds in my gun to keep my mind occupied. I count and recount, and this helps me to keep my focus. I also made a cross as I had forgot to before and this is when I came around the side.

This was 1:25 by my watch, and I saw two men on the ground, trying to strangle each other.

I called out who I was and I told them to stop. They didn't seem to hear me, so I came in closer and called out again. As I came up, I saw that they had stopped fighting and as I got closer, I saw they were actually laughing.

"Mi dios," I said.

It was at that time I was knocked unconscious.

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 02:14 PM
Okay, 2:17 by my watch. I have definitely blown out the one hour rule. I have also blown out the 500 word rule and the 3 part rule! Were there any rules I didn't break! lol!

Coming up on the end here, and I'm running in tot he typical problem of the begining being easier than the end. I have sooo many stories I never finished because it's easier for me to set up a dramatic premise and create complications, than it is for me to solve them.

Having said that, I took a break, stretched out my back some more, put another Miles Davis CD on (Live-Evil) and thought through the end of the piece, so I think I'll be able to wing ding it to the end.

It's 2:22 by my watch, the boxer is in the corner of the ring, his manager is yelling, "Give them hell", the bell gets rung, he stands up, shakes his head, and moves back to the middle of the ring for the final round...

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 03:15 PM
He lay on the ground, laughing through the spasms of pain. Some divine madness had lent itself to the order and shape of these events, and he enjoyed the laughter of a mad man.

He had been led to this place on the assumption he would meet someone with information about his family, his heritage and his inheritence.

The man next to him also laughed, but perhaps for his own reasons.

His watch had read 1:00 AM when he had come up to the man.

"Hello, I am your brother."

The primary evidence he offered was the same photo from his youth: his grandmother kissing her boss in front of a church, the same church they were now in front of. He looked up at the giant cross at the steeple, overlooking the entrance, the entrance overlooking the graveyard.

Here's where it got a bit dodgy: excavating the past is something like playing a slot machine that just gave a big payoff to someone else, statistically anyone can win, but the heart knows otherwise. Some strange man appeared claiming to be a lost brother and produced a copy of THAT photo, the one where his grandmother had been kissing her boss. Scandelous perhaps, but certainly not enough to claim blood relations.

"You just want some of my family's money... this is just about the cash."

The other man held out some paper work, claims of authenticity. He knocked them away.

It was all a slot machine with no payout, empty hands pulling back the lever and the slots roll and roll, never stopping, never paying out...

He caught a glimpse of the time as his right hand knocked away the paperwork -- sending it to the ground -- 1: 12 AM.

Then the words became heated, a conversation where everyone keeps the ante going higher and higher, until someone goes bust as they always do when the stakes get so high.

"I can always go to court. If you won't admit the truth, I'm sure your genes will!"

"You wouldn't! Fake, cheat, liar. You must have some doctor paid off. I won't let you drag my family through it!"

Then the lunge.

What was he thinking?

He wasn't.

The two men ended up on the ground, arms struggling to throttle the other. He recalled the tape he once rented, where two men went into a caged ring and fought till only one man was standing, no holds barred. Strange, to be one of those men...

Perhaps it was a matter of technical ineptitude of his opponent, perhaps it was simply his will was stronger, but he ended up on top of the other man, his hands around the small throat... such a small throat, really more like the throat of a chicken or something, not really a mans throat at all. It took a bit of pressure to keep his hands there and as the flailing began, he had to really power through it, his first instinct was to stop. So he looked around to take his mind of the whole thing, first he saw the watch on the right hand of the guy -- 1:23 AM -- and then he spied the photo on the ground next to them.

His grandmother in front of the church, kissing her boss on the lips, the cross on the top of the steeple at the rear...

He looked up at the cross looking down on them. It was in the front. The cross in the photo was in the rear.

He took his hands off the neck, black and bruised, and picked up the photo. He compared the two again and again.

"You got the wrong church."

"What," whispered the man, coughing after the effort.

"You got the wrong church. This church is across town. This is the family church."

He looked at the photo. He noticed in the bottom corner, the fingers from the hands of the picture taker.

His grandfathers hands!

"You've got the wrong church, the wrong guy, the wrong everything."

He handed the photo to the other man to look at and the other man took it with his left hand, looked at the photo and then the church and back again; when he realized the difference, the energy seemed to drain out and he fell back onto the ground.

The man, seemingly victorious in that moment, was struck by something odd and he began a quick cataloging: both men were left handed, both men were approximately the same height, same hair color, same build.

In his mind, the slot machine with the endlessly revolving slots came to a quick stop; jackpot, and the lights and bells went crazy while money poured out like a wild flood.

"****... I think you are my brother".

They stared at each other and then, suddenly, began to laugh... an inappropiate laugh and strange. Yet laugh they did, until both were on the ground, tears coming to their eyes.

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 03:16 PM
3:19 AM and I realize I have two more parts to write. What did I get myself into?

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 03:30 PM
3:32 and I'm going to take a shower and rest up a little. What was supposed to be a little tip toe through the tulips has turned into a full on expedition!

I will most likely be pulling an all nighter to finish this. Two more parts to write... so I'm going off line for a bit before coming back to work on it some more.

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 04:48 PM
4:49 AM. I finished my shower and I'm about to get something to eat. I'll be back to do some more work on this in a bit.

This was supposed to be a warm up for my real writing of the night and now it has become my whole night! I'll definitely be sleeping in tomorrow.

BTW - for those keeping track, I did indeed break my own rule about no editing, so I think I have officially broken all the rules I set for myself -- lol!

Be back in a bit.

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 05:18 PM
5:24 AM. Finished eating. I've got my cup of tea on the desk, the CD player has the soundtrack to Until The End Of The World playing, and I have a pretty good idea where the next section is going... I just have to edit a previous section to plant a plot point for this section, and then I'll be ready to move on.

Anatole Ghio
03-03-2005, 05:44 PM
Okay, not going to make it tonight... I'm going to bed and will finish tomorrow. When I come back I will also go through and clean up some of the text so reads a little cleaner and some of the descriptions are more clear.

It's 5:47 AM and I will be back later in the day.

Anatole Ghio
03-04-2005, 07:32 AM
The man, my brother, was on top of me. His hands were around my throat. All I wanted right then was to get him off me. He stared down, a sliver of of a moon over his shoulder.

I struggled to breathe through his hands.

He knocked my head to the side and I very quickly noticed the celler doors at the base of the Church. One of the doors was open; a mortal portal to an immortal structure.

When I was young, my father liked to lock himself down in the basement. We had the kind with storm doors that you get to from the outside. He kept a big padlock on the door and no one was allowed to go inside. No one was allowed to know what he did in there. It was a moral portal to an immoral structure.

After my father passed away, the day came when I was able to go into the inner sanctum. I personally cut the padlock off the door. Once inside, I discovered a dark environment that also served as a testament to his life. Most everything was what it seemed, with only a couple of secrets.

The belongings made up a form of assymetrical poetry.

((Insert strange, wonderous list at a later date.))

Then there was a novel. At this time I would be hard pressed to remember which one. Let's say it was Madame Bovery. As soon as I picked it up, a photo fell out. A picture of my father kissing a woman around his age, in front of a chrurch. I searched inside the book and found a long expired coupon for a slushie from a drug store.

Some time later, I was able to arrange visiting the town where the drug store was located. After showing the photo of my father around, I was able to find someone who knew of the woman. She liked to stay at a resort cabin in the woods, some distance away.

A trip to the cabin and a bit of money later, I was able to procure her name through the registery logs. A trip to the archive of the local paper and I was able to find the name of her husband and daughter. They had spent some time living here during their daughters high school years. A tip to the local school brought me a copy of the yearbook and once I opened it to her image near the front, listed alphabetically with all the other students, I was unable to look any further.

There she was, much younger than I had seen her. The woman I never knew, dead just as I came into being... my mother.

Anatole Ghio
03-11-2005, 01:03 PM
Hey, I haven't forgotten this thread. I'll add some more tonight... it still has more to go, but it should be finished soon. It definitely got a lot bigger than I first anticipated.

Thanks to the person who left the comment, I just discovered it and I appreciate your remarks.

I going to grab a bite to eat and then I'll be back to add more to this.

- Anatole

Anatole Ghio
03-11-2005, 02:40 PM
I'm about to add more... I will put up a new section but will not be finishing it tonight. Since I've already broken my no editing rule, I will edit, write and polish the new section until it's done and then I will start the next one.

It's very strange writing this way and I've never done anything like it before. Not only am I in essence publishing a story as I write it, but I am also documenting the writing of the story as I go. Both are unique to me... in addition, I am working more in the realm of melodrama with this piece, something I have never done sincerly... I've sent it up, but never used it seriously.

So the whole project has been very unique... I am glad to have this chance to expand my borders and do something different.

Okay, back to work... will post something new in a bit.

Anatole Ghio
03-11-2005, 03:43 PM
From the Journal of Hector Proctor:

I have known only two things. I have known work, and I have known faith. Somthing in the world tapped my head at birth and gave me knowledge of something more. I have known work as it has been the only thing for me to know. To work and to feel closer to God; these I know well.

Often I stand at the door and as I smoke, I look into the sky. Sometimes I see tiny stars flooating there and sometimes there is nothing, just a black sky. This is the way God steps into our lives, sometimes it is clear how he acts, sometimes it seems he is not there at all.

Many come through the doors and some do not leave. Above we celebrate life and one's journey, below we mourn for the bodies passing. The father, his work is above. My work is below and I am not seen by most who come here.

The father learns the way of the soul: he hears confession and knows the ways our spirit works on the earth. I know the way of the body: I have learned how the body works when the spirit is gone. It is the way of ****, and blood and formaldehyde. It is not God's Beauty.

(( Where am I going with this? So he somehow ties the two brothers together by knowing about their mother and the grandmothers boss. He has some information... this is him stepping from the world of the body into the world of the soul. It should start with his world, though. With him burying someone and getting information that leads him to the world of the soul. A slip of paper... somehow he brings the boss and the girl together. Some information that inadvertantly links them?))

So I work for God by keeping my faith in this world of **** and blood. I know the world of the spirit is more difficult. I see the fathers and know of their drinking and depression. I would stay away, and I have. It is not always possible.

Once God saw to visit his wisdom in a cypher. One family, one marriage anniversary, vows renewed, God is blessed; one week later, one death, one family devastated, God is cursed.