7
Apr
A fly buzzed when I died. It wasn’t a noble death, or a valiant one, just a death. I was standing patrol in some godforsaken jungle on a planet I couldn’t even name, and a sniper shot me. Kinetic kill, right through the heart. So that’s it for me, lying bleeding out on the ground. I had always wondered what death would feel like, and I can tell you, it doesn’t. There’s nothing, no feeling, just a sort of growing blankness, like bits of your body are turning off. I guess that’s accurate to what’s happening – bits of my body are turning off, no more oxygen to feed the little guys.
Base sent out a rescue wagon, but all it’s going to pick up is my cold dead corpse. At least they got the bastard, counter-sniper with a rocket. I’d say goodbye to my wife and kids and family, but I don’t have any. I was grown in a vat, originally going to be used for organ replacement for some rich old bugger. Then the war started, and the government realized it had all of these healthy young men laying around collecting dust. Few months of high-speed training, and suddenly I’m standing patrol out in Hell 101, or whatever this planet’s called. Better than lying around knowing I was going to get chopped into spare parts one day.
I know, I’m taking a long time to actually die if I can record all this, but that damn fly buzzing around my head is keeping me awake so I can talk. Don’t know how, but it is. Maybe it sprinkled pixie dust on my face when I closed my eyes. Or if I tap my heels three times, I go home. Yeah, right.
Sorry, blacked out there for a moment. The fly isn’t working as well as it used to. Blood loss, I suppose. Where was I? Nowhere, really, just nattering away into a mic while lying on the ground. I don’t even have a name, just a code number. JNY-35197, that’s me. Has such a nice ring to it that people call me Jenny. Can’t read or write, don’t have any rights. Why would they give either to a bag of organs?
That blankness is most of the way up my chest, and it’s getting a bit hard to breathe. Probably only have about a minute or so more at this rate, so I should wrap things up. I know my comrades and I are just bags of organs, and that we got the bum jobs: foot patrol, grunt work, the dangerous stuff, but we’re still human, still have emotions and think and feel like the rest of you. We’re not cyborgs or androids or whatever you call them these days. So, when the war is over and we go home, treat us clones right, would you? Think of the old empires – if you fought for them, at the end of the war you became a citizen. Give that to me and mine, please. It’s my dying wish, and all it takes is thinking with your heart, and not your head. I know you’ll do it, and thank you. Goodbye.
Comments
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T.S. Bazelli on 04.07.2010
You setup a distinct world, and background, despite the brevity of the piece and without any obvious info dumps. The voice of the character was also quite strong and I could hear Jenny speaking in my head I read through it.
I’m not usually a flash fiction fan, but I enjoyed this story 🙂
Administrator on 04.07.2010
Had no idea for the piece when I sat down except the first line. It’s how I usually approach short fiction, just letting the story go where it will, without any idea aside from that I want to write.
Despite the fact that Emily Dickinson is perhaps my least favorite poet, it seemed an appropriate line to use to open the work, and I like how it turned out.
The JNY/Jenny name is a reference to an old Keith Laumer short story, about a Bolo called JNY. I liked the way it forced a split between not really having a name, but having one at the same time.
Bit of a mish-mash of Sci-Fi parts, but I’m rather happy with the result. Maybe tomorrow I can stab Breaking an Empire again, and get back to finishing up my second book.
Louise Broadbent on 04.08.2010
Hey, these are just my opinions. Feel free to ignore if you disagree with them – your opinion is way more important because this is your creation.
Overall stuff:
I like the idea behind this – it’s a little old, but your approach is fresh and works most of the time. However, I felt that some of the time, Jenny’s dying thoughts were more what you want them to be for plot and backstory, etc, than what they would be. Obviously, they will be what you want them to be – you are the writer and Jenny is your character – but there were places when I got too much of a sense of authorial control – Jenny’s thoughts were too convenient, for you as the author, to be believed. This was especially the case when Jenny’s thoughts guessed mine, e.g. ‘I know, I’m taking a long time to actually die if I can record all this’ – they became almost like disclaimers. You need the counter-argument, I guess, but in a less obvious way. I’m also confused about gender – from what Jenny thinks, it makes sense for Jenny to be male but the name is female (maybe it can be both, but I’ve never heard of a guy called Jenny) – that might be deliberate but the effect was it was harder for me to get a feel for Jenny and Jenny’s voice.
To overcome this, I suggest a little, old-fashioned, getting-to-know your character – it might be worth trying some automatic writing from Jenny’s p.o.v. for you to learn more about her and get into her head more before editing. You could also experiment with stream-of-consciousness more – think James Joyce or Virginia Wolf – I’d say this is more interior monologue at present.
Specific Lines, etc:
Love the opening line
Loved these sentences: ‘There’s nothing, no feeling, just a sort of growing blankness, like bits of your body are turning off. I guess that’s accurate to what’s happening – bits of my body are turning off, no more oxygen to feed the little guys.’
I like the concept of the fly keeping Jenny awake, but your wording of it didn’t quite work. I think if this was more stream-of-consciousness, it would be better. Something like: ‘Buzzing fly’s keeping me awake, somehow. Like it’s keeping me from sleep. Saving my life, if you think about, but – buzz off – no don’t – if it buzzes off I’ll probably die, not that I won’t anyway, I’m only delaying the inevitable but – god’s sake it’s annoying.’
With the ‘Sorry, blacked out there for a moment.’ – there’s no indication that Jenny has been quiet. I suggest slipping in some ellipses – end of last paragraph and start of this one. Also, why not ‘blanked out’ – to go with the ‘growing blankness’ – just a thought.
I didn’t buy the ‘wrapping this up’ paragraph – Jenny became a spokesperson for a view about clones and stopped being a character I believed in and cared about. I guess I think a dying person/ clone would be more concerned with the ‘ah! I’m dying’ thing than political rights for his/her people. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t inject the view in this, I think it’s something you should get across – just perhaps more indirectly. Rather than say ‘we’re still human, still have emotions and think and feel like the rest of you’ – show me that. Make Jenny’s reaction to death more human.
Don’t like the last line. I don’t think you could predict the exact moment of your death so that you could end with ‘goodbye’ – yes it has a nice finality about it, but I think ending in the middle of a sentence, for example, would be more poignant.
I’d love to see what you make of this in a later version – please link me again! I hope you found this review helpful, in some way.
Thanks for a thought-provoking read.
Louise
The Four Part Land on 04.08.2010
Well, as you have probably noticed, this piece wasn’t edited at all before being posted. I regard editing a work as a dire act of pain, and will only commit to it in the utmost circumstances.
With that disclaimer out of the way, let me wander through your comments. I’ve (sort of) answered a few bits and pieces in my prior comment, including where the name comes from, but yes, JNY is male, although that’s never explicitly clear. He was supposed to be a fairly androgynous sort of fellow.
As to the dying thoughts… they are rather neat, and conclude quite ‘nicely’, and you’re right that this isn’t something that would likely happen. I think a better ending for the story might be something along these lines -> “Oh hell, why didn’t they take away the ability to feel when they made us? We clones still have human emotions and mine are crawling all over me in pain and anguish and loss.” Making the point that they’re human, but not in such an explicit manner.
While the story’s point of view wasn’t written as a S-o-C flow, it was written as a stream of thought writing, just tossing the next paragraph down on paper. I think Stephen King calls this ‘Found Writing’, but the downside is that the storyline can fluctuate from place to place, and it sounds like this happens to Clone.
Hrmm… I think that’s about all I’ve got for the moment. Might take another stab at this tonight, or might let it sit for a few days. Today was kind of rough, and the kind of writing I’d end up doing tonight would be very very dark and depressed.
Louise Broadbent on 04.08.2010
I did not notice – looked fairly polished to me. You’re lucky – my first drafts are always hideous.
I think that ending would be better, but probs best to let it sit for a while – editing’s an up-mountain struggle unless you’re feeling inspired – also, you might have more thoughts about it if you leave it simmering.