The Singer Man: A Storytelling Comparison

  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

          I hope you won't mind indulging me in this little experiment.  Today I'm going to present two different versions of the same very short story.  I'd like for you to tell me which one you prefer and why.    On Friday I will explain a bit more about this.

  

                                     The Singer  

    Ted settled back at his table in the night club nursing his beer while he watched the crowd filter in to fill the seats around him.  The poster outside the door had made him smile with the anticipation of seeing the singer he'd long admired.  Ted had made this special trip into the city to experience this performance.


       Drumming his fingers on the table, Ted's impatience grew.  Finally the lights dimmed.  From some unseen place he could hear the announcer introducing the singer.  Then after the voice said, "Now it's time to welcome the artist", the crowd roared its approval.


        A spotlight illuminated the singer, who Ted immediately recognized.  Ted's excitement swelled and his face beamed as he broke into applause along with the rest of the audience.  Soon Ted was humming along to favorite songs he knew so well.  The singer ran through his playlist of popular songs while his top notch band punched life into each one of them.


        Unseen by anyone in the audience was the singer's attractive girlfriend who was sitting at in a booth at the back of the room. She'd had a few too many drinks and was snuggled up with some guy she didn't even know.  He was putting some smooth moves on the lady while her true lover sang his songs for his adoring audience.


         Appreciative comments could be heard throughout the audience.  "Man, our singer's alright" and "He's such a burning performer" and "What a fabulous show!"   The singer was "knocking 'em dead" as the old show biz adage goes.


         Amid the stomping and cheering, the movement of the singer's lover and the stranger was unnoticed as they got up to succumb to their passions. Only the singer could see the pair leave the room while he poured out his deepest emotions, his saddest heartbreak, into these songs that his fans loved so well.  His heartbreak was real to him, but only songs to those who heard them sung on that night.


        After the show Ted felt terrific as he headed toward the exit.  He could overhear the raves and excited appreciative buzz of the departing crowd.  In particular he overheard the exchange between one young man and his girlfriend as they discussed the evening's performance.
  
         "Don't you envy that guy?" she said.


          "He's the ultimate singer," her boyfriend replied.  "He's on top of the world."
                                                  ***********

Now for version two:

                 Make It All So Real          

       Take your seat at the table. Watch the cabaret fill.  Ted came down for the singer. He saw the name on the bill.  How the minutes were dragging as the audience grew.  Ted was growing impatient as he swallowed his brew

       "It's time to welcome the artist," he heard somebody say.  He saw a face in the floodlight and everything was okay.

Then the singer was singing all his serious songs and his band was a-playing.   Ted was humming along. 

             "Singer man do your work. 

              Sing your song. Make it hurt.

              Sing the tears. Sing the pain. 

               Make it all so real."

         Meanwhile back in a corner there was a table for two where sat the singer's cute lover and she was drinking a few, all snuggled up with a stranger who had his hand on her thigh. She was receiving his message and gazing into his eyes...

         So the sound came a-rolling, tumbling into the night.   And all the people were raving, saying "Man our singer's all right ! "  And "Such a burning performer!" "What a fabulous show!"

        Little lover was stirring. She was ready to go.  And while the singer was wailing she got up to depart.  The crowd was stomping and cheering. She was breaking his heart...

        Ted was feeling terrific as the crowd filtered out raving on about the hero, there were whistles and shouts.

        There was a guy with his sweetheart.   Ted came walking on past.  He could hear what was spoken. He could hear what she asked.

        She said, " Don't you envy the hero ? "

         And the fella answered his girl, "Yes. He's the ultimate singer. He's on top of the world!

                             **************

          Please come back on Friday for my explanation and some further comments about this story.  What version do you like the best and why?  What  particular impressions do you have about either version?  Honest critiques please.

             

Campaign Challenge

       Rachael Harrie has put forth the First Campaigner Challenge and I'll run with it.  Follow the link to see the rest of the entries.   While you're there you can vote for mine.  Off course, plenty of Campaigners beat me there so I'm way behind in the running--I'm #126 on the list--but that's okay.  I'm just playing the game and adding blog content.

Here is the Challenge:


Write a short story/flash fiction story in 200 words or less, excluding the title. It can be in any format, including a poem. Begin the story with the words, “Shadows crept across the wall”. These five words will be included in the word count. 

If you want to give yourself an added challenge (optional), do one or more of these:

• end the story with the words: "everything faded." (also included in the word count)

• include the word "orange" in the story

• write in the same genre you normally write

• make your story 200 words exactly!

I took care of all of the above!


*****************************************************************************


                       Blaming Shadows


                Shadows crept across the wall.  The black cat was left behind by Bob’s ex-wife, along with a whole bunch of other bad news.  Shadows was probably the source of a lot of the bad luck Bob had been dealing with of late.

      The cat stopped and stared at Bob.

        Bob sneered at his nemesis.  Picking up an orange, Bob peeled it with his fingers and threw bits of rind at the cat.  With a playful leap, the cat captured a piece of orange peel and began toying with it.

         “Go ahead—play cute cat.  I know what you’re up to.”

           Shadows took a graceful running start and jumped up into Bob’s lap.  Bob tensed.  The cat nuzzled his leg and purred softly.  Instinctively, Bob stroked the cat and then drew back his hand with the realization of what he was doing.

           Bob popped wedges of the orange into his mouth as he pondered his next move.  He thought about what else could go wrong.  It seemed to be a lot of little things.  It had to be the black cat’s fault. 

          The chime on the dryer signaled that his laundry was done.  He unloaded the laundry and groaned.   Everything faded.

    ***************************************************

  Now remember to go to the Linky List and vote for #126.


                 And a word about the Blogging from A to Z Challenge:   We're trying to hit 1000 sign-ups by March 1st, which is next Thursday.  Please make an announcement on your blog to encourage your readers to join us in the A to Z Challenge.   If you have any special connection to bloggers who haven't signed up yet, send them an email to let them in on the April fun and ask them if they'd like to be a part of it.  This week we're counting on all of you to boost the numbers.   Can you help?

Keeping It Short

          Before I started blogging I wasn't familiar with flash fiction, drabbles, or other forms of very short fiction.  I had seen a few short, short stories that were a sentence or two long, but I thought they were more like jokes or novelties than any serious writing form.  I had seen the mini stories like those in Reader's Digest but I didn't think of those as a form of story-telling.

            When I heard the term short story I tended to think in terms of ten or twenty pages.   That's more my style since I tend to yammer on and on sometimes.  I'm not content with stating things simply.  I like descriptions, lengthy dialog, and prolific pondering.  When it comes to putting things down on paper (or on the computer screen) I probably talk too much.

           I guess I should probably learn the art of reticence.  I need to learn how to KISS (Keep it short and simple).

            How are you with keeping it short and simple?   What do you do to keep from being overly wordy?  Or do you prefer a certain element of wordiness?   Is there a particular form of short writing that you particularly like?



            During the A to Z Challenge Doris Plaster of "Hold my hand"  A social worker's blog presented us with wonderfully crafted stories told in 50 words.  She has now compiled these into Home Sweet Nursing Home, a book available from Amazon.   Doris will be my special guest this Wednesday August 31.




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