Ego-risking Step of Faith

From time to time I will post things I am writing, have written, abandoned mid-sentence, or just generally never believe will see the inside of a publisher's mailbox. I am posting these things to be able to point out the flaws that I see and, once (/if) I get readers, what they see so that others and I can avoid these problems in the future. These, as are all my posts, fully open to criticism and disrespect as long as there is no malicious intent (if there is, I doubt it will even bother me; I'll probably just mentally label you ignorant and continue on), so comment away

This is a story I wrote up this morning just as the sun was peeking out over the rooftops. My first critique is that any idea or writing done under such circumstances is essentially doomed from it's inception. I'm also frustrated by the fact that I began this with a clear idea that had entered my head (and, quickly, my story journal that I record such plot sparks in) about the reactions to the impending Water Crisis that one might see. I quickly decided that I would like to do things differently this time and, instead of neutering all the foul language one might expect, I let it flow from the mouth of a character not dissimilar to the previously aforementioned Maddox. What resulted ended up being the character taking out my frustrations about the "Gaia Solicitors" around campus on a character that was (unsurprisingly) quite similar to them. I doubt I'll ever be able to shape this story to it's original premise, so I don't intend to expand upon it farther unless something really pulls me to do so. So here, in it's entirety, are the first few paragraphs of my story of water crisis that never was:

“So, what you're telling me is that you don't care at all?” said the young woman, a look of astonishment on her face. Jack was happy to find that his position still shocked these people.

“Look, the world's fucked no matter what we do, okay? You can't wave some optimistic bullshit in the air at me and tell me that giving my money to you will somehow benefit me. I'm not some fuckin' drone that's just going to do what you tell me, okay?” he replied, forcing an angry snarl to his features. He wasn't really upset; in fact, he enjoyed these little arguments and their ability to piss of the Purifiers.

“But, studies show-” she tried to get in, but he had her on the ropes and wasn't letting up.

“What the fuck are you going to do? Huh? You going to go join those idiots up on Red Death? You think you're fucked here, try living with terraforming. That's a real death sentence, not like our fucking water.” Jack's face became redder and redder as he bellowed at the solicitor. He was sure that by now she had lost all hope of getting anything from him, yet she didn't shy away. If she hated herself enough to not only do this job, but care enough about it to be his verbal punching bag, then Jack wasn't going to let her go.

“So, what? What are you going to do? Nothing, and you know it. Dammit, don't you people ever even research the bullshit you're selling? We can't do shit, and all the research proves it, yet here you are, with your little fucking clipboard and sandals, trying to extort me out of my money that I could use on hookers or some shit that will actually make me happy. Fuck, maybe I can buy some real water with it, not your bullshit 'water deed.' Why the fuck would I want to buy a patch of polluted water? That's just the dumbest shit anyone could have ever come up with. So, fuck you, and your fucking clipboard.,” he snatched the thing out of her hands as she tried to use it as a shield against his perceived attack.

It wasn't even a clipboard this time; it was some sort of binder with a tablet device that was probably built in the country that caused the Purifiers to have something else to complain about. He didn't care; it had an even more gratifying effect when he slung it against a nearby wall, all of it's tiny electronic components bursting out like plastic shrapnel. He opened his mouth to speak again, but, seeing the terrified look from her and all those around him, he decided that was a good enough exit. He threw one last look at everyone around him and marched off, leaving a scene an emotional vandal.

-Kendle "Hey, At Least I'm Writing" Kelley