So I'm writing a short story about two brothers who get lost while exploring some tunnels underneath a city. I'm not much of a writer though, I haven't been doing it for very long. Since Edward mentioned in his original post that we could ask for advice, I was wondering if people would help me out and comment on a short scene from the story.
Any (polite) criticism, tips, advice or comments would be great. You can even tell me it sucked, but please be nice.
The story itself is inspired by the movie The Descent, a game called The Cave, and some strange dreams I've been having. In this scene, the main character and his brother are discussing exploring the sewers. Warning: Long Post!
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There were myths about the sewers and subways beneath the city. Clans of underground homeless people, giant vicious rats, pale alligators and countless other urban legends that are probably heard in every big city in the world. I had heard them all and didn't really buy any of it. But this was a new one.
Sean continued to stare at me, his piercing blue eyes demanding an answer and his mischievous grin asking for a good one. His long blond hair was tied in a ponytail, and his worn jeans and T-shirt made him look like a carefree beach bum. At 30 years old, most guys already had jobs and families, or at least were working towards that goal. That kind of responsibility sounded boring to Sean.
"So you're telling me that somewhere in the sewers lives an old man, and he'll give you anything you want, as long as you can find him?" I asked with with even more doubt than I felt.
I couldn't keep the annoyance from my voice. I'll bet that when most men see that their brothers are in pain, they try and cheer them up or talk to them, maybe get them drunk or something. Not my brother, he wanted to drag me through a sewer.
"Something like that," Sean said with a enthusiastic grin.
"What if I don't want anything from some crazy homeless guy?" I asked.
"Its just a story, something to make it more fun."
This kind of thing really was fun to Sean. He had been digging through abandoned buildings, crawling beneath run down asylums and God knows what else for years. He liked to call himself an urban explorer, but to me it just seemed that he enjoyed wasting time. I asked him why he did it once. He told me, "You can learn a lot from the places and things people leave behind."
Right. Like what they had for dinner last night.
"C'mon man," Sean said, more insistent, "You need this. You probably haven't been out of this house since....the accident. You're gonna end up being a crazy homeless guy yourself. You gotta get out of here."
The accident. That was probably the most polite way to put it, but it still felt like a knife through the heart. The pain was worse because Sean did not look me in the eyes when he said it, did not call it what it was and did not want to talk about it. My anger grew. I was tempted to yell every detail of "The accident" into his face, and demand that he talk to me about it. Demand comfort, or support, or anything else that someone would give to his brother!
I sighed. What good would it do to yell? I had tried to talk to him about it after the funeral, tried to tell him how deep my pain was, how much the loss had affected me. He gave me minor condolences, and left saying that he would see me soon. I've barely heard from him since that day a year ago.
I couldn't be angry with him though. He had been like this since we were kids, he could always let pain and misery go easier than I could. He had a gift for always being happy. A true free spirit. I wondered if part of my anger came from jealousy.
Besides, he was here now. Even if he was offering something that I didn't want or need, he was here for me. My anger was beginning to fade, and my resolve went with it. As a life long introvert, I didn't have many friends, and no one who I considered close, not since Sara died a year ago. Even as a kid I was usually alone. Sean had always been popular, and he had always been willing to include me in his adventures and let me hang out with him and his friends.
"So have you done this kind of thing before?" I asked, "It sounds dangerous. And isn't it against the law?"
"I haven't been in many sewers," He explained, "But we're not going in very deep, and I have a map."
"And if we get caught?"
"Don't worry about it, bro!" He said, "Cops don't hang out in sewers."
"Fine," I said with another sigh. This whole thing still sounded like a bad idea to me, but I really did need to do something. My depression was getting worse every day.
"But only for a few hours," I said insistently, "I'll give you three hours, then we do something that I want to do."
We have had mock bargains like this for our entire lives. It was a game between us, something that kept two people close who otherwise didn't have much in common.
"Great!" Sean happily yelled, while shoving a piece of paper in my hands. "Anything you want, as long as it involves women and beer! That's a list of stuff you'll need. If you don't have it all, call me. I'll help."
Yeah, I thought, because buying a flashlight and backpack is what I need help with.
"This is gonna be fun man, you'll see! I'll pick you up at 5:00 AM Wednesday."
"Five AM?!?" I knew I shouldn't have agreed to this. "Are you fuc..."
Sean was on the other side of the room and out the front door before I could finish. Avoiding arguments was also a talent of his.
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That was only a short scene from a much longer story. When the brothers get lost, they find adventure, drama, loneliness and some pretty scary things. I don't have much trouble with action scenes, but I'm not confident in the dialogue that is the backbone of the drama. That's why I chose this scence to share.
So, any thoughts from the other writers here?