Eithne
Hoby Discussion Board: The Writing Armada: 1. The Sound of Your Writing - Being Gorgeous: Eithne
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By Eithne (Eithne) on Wednesday, January 16, 2002 - 11:23 am
Note: To be read with a thick brough.


Local Salmon Farmer Loses Currach



"I had me a bit of excitement, so I did.
Twas seven AM, and I out in the water already, rowing out ta the island to feed the salmon. Sure, the same as every morning. There was a bit of a storm all right, and the Sea, ahh, she was a bit angry this day. She took a hold of me currach and she ran it strait into the rocks. The boat, she dumped me right out into the water and floated away all on her own. For me own dear life it was, that I managed to scramble up onto the rocks. There I was, out there in the lashin�wind and soaking all the way through. Must have been a sorry state to be seen in, I was this time.

Thanks be to the Virgin it is, that me boss was watching from the shore. Well, fairly lively , himself and a couple of lads, they was comin� to me rescue. Can you imagine the surprise on me face when it wasn�t towards me that they headed, but after the runaway currach instead. There I sat, catching me death, freezin'cold on those rocks, while they struggled to save the boat in the pissing rain and the vicous wind.
Twas half nine when they got round to me. By then the news had spread and there was a crowd of eegits looking on from the shore. Their eyes was hangin� out of their mouths to see the sight of me, you can be sure. They was askin, "were ye all alone on the boat?" and "has anyone been killed?" They seemed a small bit disappointed to hear it was only the currach that had been lost. Twas real tragedy altogether that these ones was looking for.

And there I was, standing there like a right bollocks, me whole body shaking and shivering, me lips blue as the evening sky, when the boss lets meself, and everyone else know how I could reimburse him for the currach out of me paychecks.

He�s always bustin� the hump over every feckin� little thing that one is. I tell ya; there is nothin' at all ta be said for this job cept that it�s employment. Being stuck here in this place, that�s tragedy enough, if ye ask me."



Hoby: This formating is a pain in the ass! How do I indent properly??? This is the best I could do with the indent code. Grrr....

By Anonymous on Tuesday, January 22, 2002 - 05:17 pm
Very enjoyable and convincing. The accent is well done, I can hear the man talking, telling the tale. I would have liked a little more flavor on the setting, is he at a pub? But the feel of the words leave you feeling like he is. This makes me want to read more.

By Anonymous on Tuesday, January 22, 2002 - 07:39 pm
It occurs to me that the omitting of setting, as mentioned above, evokes quite a wonderful monologue opportunity here. The setting would then speak for itself in the form of a stage design. And yes, the brough dialect is well executed and consistent. The last paragraph nicely completes it as a finished piece as opposed to something that might continue. It feels like a whole piece. What are eegits?

By Eithne (Eithne) on Wednesday, January 23, 2002 - 09:53 am
Eegits are idiots. Not a phonetic spelling however; a separate word meaning the same thing.

I left the setting vauge on purpose. Monologue for the sake of monologue and all. He can be where ever you would like him to be. I alternately imagined being told the story over the phone and transcribing a letter when I was writing it. The pub is a bit more exciting. Or perhaps, standing on a lonesome beach in Connemara the sky dark with ominous clouds,the ocean seeming unpredictable, as this country fellow with limited social skills (you can't get a word in edgewise)tries to chat you up with his story.:-)

Ok, I'm just silly now. It's early in the morning.

By Eithne (Eithne) on Wednesday, January 23, 2002 - 01:07 pm
Oops! I just re-read the critiquing section of the book. I had forgotten that I am supposed to remain silent. Just disregard the second section of my last post. Sorry. The duct tape is now firmly in place.

By Kate (Kate) on Thursday, January 24, 2002 - 01:58 am
For me, it stands on its own without need of a setting. The monologue has the feel of a story that has been told many times, in the pub and outside of it, wherever he finds an audience. And it indirectly evokes the whole setting of the location, which could be a small coastal town in Ireland, or Newfoundland, or Alert Bay, or any small, insular place where all the eegits are related to each other. Great rhythm and very colorful; it pulls you right in.

By KateC (Katec) on Thursday, January 24, 2002 - 02:02 am
I wrote the above, but somehow it posted without the "KateC"--weird! Don't know how that happened.

By AlmaDea (Almadea) on Thursday, January 24, 2002 - 11:52 pm
I am late. I left my writing piece at my work computer. I will post it tomorrow, but want to critique today.
I can see this man telling this tale in a pub, over a pint of Guiness. I like the choice of not creating a setting. I think you're right- it doesn't matter where this story is told. You can see the hoary old seaman telling the tale, wherever the reader decides to place him.
My only suggestion would be to make the story-telling more convoluted. Most people who speak with a brough can't tell a straight-forward tale to save themselves. Maybe put in more descriptions of the Sea and the currach and the eegits...

By Anonymous on Thursday, January 31, 2002 - 11:33 am
After the accent fell into place, it did well in exciting my sense of moral outrage. Bluddy bastards ol'vem! Nawt a care thay show fir aparson such as meself, out thaer, riskin me vary life..

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