Posted by Kevin Kerrane
To refresh your memory on the second story I never quite finished, click here.
I have tried writing fiction – everything from vignettes to the great American novel. But I have – fortunately, perhaps – been found lacking. This article is one in a series of several stories, of one type or another, that I never quite finished – usually because I had neither the energy nor the heart to do so. After each story a short criticism follows. The criticism is offered to me, but of course you may profit from it too.
You may notice, incidentally, that in some cases the criticism is longer than the actual story reprint. This conclusively proves what has been a major contention of mine for some time now: namely that critics make things grow. How? I think that any farmer knows what makes things grow.
I wrote the third story that I never finished (I guess you've figured out by now that I've never finished any of them) when I was 15-3/4. It's a bawdy drama called Stogie Road, a play about the poor Southern sharecroppers.
Act III, scene 6:
Punky: Where aire ye, Pa?
Punky: Hey, Pa!
Punky: Ah wants ta ast ya sompin.
Punky: You seen my yo-yo?
(Both exit as audience throws rocks)
The fact that the first two acts and sense of the play are not extant and may, in fact have never been written might have something to do with the relative effectiveness of the scene. Perhaps Punky's yo-yo is some sort of Freudian symbol. Maybe it's the family heirloom. Then again, if we assume that yo means yes, yo-yo would mean yes-yes, and the sentence would read as You seen my yes-yes? How does that sound?
The author has, at least, progressed to the drama as a means of expression, but he may, as he approaches the burdensome age of 16, be taking somewhat of defeatist attitude in his stage instructions to the actors. Then again, it may be one of those Our Town type things where the audience gets into the act, so to speak. I wish I could remember.