Saturday, November 9, 2013

Steven's Clock (excerpt)

     The following is an except from an unfinished manuscript; it was posted here to garner a few cherished opinions as to the subject matter and the harsh portrayal of deviant sexual tendencies.  The initial 3,000 words were written in a single, sit down and type session with no prior research.  There were no edits or rewrites.   
     This is not simple fiction; it is written using significant conventions of the Modernist Movement, the story begins at the end and the traces the self-destructive choices of moderately successful accountant through the demise of his career, three failed marriages and the loss of his familial relationships.  My use of an unconventional, non-omniscient narrator speaking in the present tense directly to the reader and relating the past deeds of the degenerate Steven is intended to poke fun at some of the (my opinion) sophomoric conventions of the now popular Contemporary Movement.
     This excerpt of three paragraphs is not intended to reveal the entire plot line nor even the complexity of the characters. (If I ever found myself writing that simplistically I would abandon my literary career.)  A longer except may well have been more inviting to a casual internet reader, but the paragraphs contiguous to these were too poorly written to display without significant reworking.
     Feel free to read through and comment if you wish, but I have decided NOT to abandon the roughly 3,000 words of the unfinished first draft.  I suspect that the initial writing when culled in editing and rewritten to exploit language coloring, appropriately researched content and the requisite careful literary allusions will span between 3,000 and 4,000.  With all due respect to the hurried normality of Internet writing, I would suspect that this piece might be ready for viewing as a completed work in 3 to 4 months.

     The times changed and Steven didn’t.  Locked in a mire of self-assuredness and conceit, he ignored the damage his every relationship suffered.  Divorced for the third time, estranged from his brother, and an outcast at his menial job as an accounts payable clerk the Fordham’s Ford dealership, Steven easily identified every fault of every person he ever met, and was never afraid to voice his opinion. 
     Our poor, unsympathetic protagonist lives in a three room basement apartment where the rent covers all utilities and cable TV.  He had tried to upgrade the cable subscription to include some wished for movie channels, but the bill was in Jack’s, the landlord, name.  He did eventually convince a customer service rep to allow him to buy pay-per-view features using his debit card and keep it off the master bill.  These days, if you should venture past the side-yard entrance to his subterranean lair at any time later than ten at night, you will likely here the sophomorically written mood music and over-emoted moans of the latest adult channel releases.  With his right hand lover and his voyeuristic television, Steven reconciled himself to a voluntary hermitage.    

     Life hadn’t always been so simple.  In his youth, he had a string of passionate affairs propagated with hormone driven lust and a steadfast disbelief in the existence of love.  These trysts rarely lasted longer than a few weeks before our charming gigolo became bored his “unimaginative” sex partner, and with his callous but characteristic post-coital declaration of his dissatisfaction, ended the relationship by crushing yet another vulnerable ego while smirking at the incredulous look in her eyes.  In his mind, it was time to move on to the next willing woman in line.

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