This Old Gray House, Trying to get a better written story Options

[Guest_ohsteve_*]

First Revision

The house was gray, its paintwork faded maroon. Even though it had only been built forty years previously, the place quickly grew shabby. It experienced its share of hate, love, fears and tears. Two families lived there before it started to rot and fall apart; before it was slowly dismantled. The second family, a mother, father two sons and two daughters, spent thirty years in the house.

The father was an alcoholic and a verbal abuser. In his mind nothing that any of his family did was right. Any dreams his children had of a better life were abandoned until they could leave home.

The mother was an enabler. She could have left at any time but thought the fault was within her. She didn’t want her children growing up without both parental figures. By the time she realised the damage this had caused, it was too late.

The first son escaped by going into the military. The next year his brother followed. The eldest daughter married at the age of twenty. By the time the youngest was growing up the father had realized and acknowledged he had a problem and stopped drinking.

But oh, how unfairly fate decides to lavish its cruel portions. The first son got out and after missing out on his true love married because he was lonely. They had a son who only lived to eleven due to genetic medical problems at birth.

The second son married, had three girls, retired from the military and for eleven years was an electronic technician till heredity incapacitated him with Somataform Disorder, which he still fights and which his eldest daughter and her son both inherited bipolar disorder.

The oldest sister had two sons. She now suffers from bipolar II and severe depression.
Her youngest son was also diagnosed with the illness and suffered for a number of years but now seems to be ok without medication.

The youngest, who had two girls, was the luckiest of the four siblings for she has no legacy of suffering nor does she have the same bad memories of her father’s wrath.

Now the gray house with all its faded memories is gone. Nothing is left but grass, a few dandelions and the memories that still haunt my dreams.







Original

The house was gray, not because of painting, just of age. The paint was a faded maroon. The house was forty years old but showed its age poorly. It had known its share of hate, love, fears and tears. The house had sheltered two families before it started to rot and fall apart, before it was slowly dismantled. Of the second family, a mother, father two sons and two daughters they spent thirty years in the house.

The father was an alcoholic and a verbal abuser, nothing that any of the family could do was right in his mind. If the sons and daughters had dreams of a better life then all hopes were shattered until they were of an age that they could leave home.

The mother was an enabler she could have left at any time but thought the fault was in her. She didn’t want the children growing up with out both parental figures. Too bad she realizes the damages done too late.
The first son went in to the military to get away, the next year the second son went too. The oldest daughter got married at the age of twenty and escaped that way, by the time the youngest was old enough the father had realize and acknowledge his problem and went completely sober.

But oh, how the cruel hand of fate decides to lavish its portions out. The first son got out and after missing out on his true love married a woman because he was lonely, they had a son that only lived to be eleven due to medical problems at birth and genetics of both father and mother.

The second son married had three girls retired from the military and became an electronic technician for eleven years when his heredity caught him and took him from the work force to complete debilitation; from a mental disorder he still fights, his oldest daughter and her son both inherited part of the disease of bipolarism.

The oldest daughter had two sons. She now suffers from bipolar II and severe depression.
Her youngest son caught part of it and suffered for a number of years with bipolarism but now seems to be ok without medication.

As for the youngest who had two girls, she seems to have caught the lucky end of the stick and has had no suffering at all nor does she have the bad memories of her fathers rath before he stopped drinking.

Now the house, the gray house with all its faded memories is gone with nothing there but grass and a few dandelions.  But the memories I have remain even though they have been forgiven, they still haunt me sometimes in my dreams.

[Guest_Nina_*]

Hi Steve

A sad story and one who's consequences still echo down the years.  Though you only mention the father's drink problem, I would guess that he too suffered from bipolar disorder which his children and grandchildren inherited and which along with schizophrenia tends to run in families.  I have read that it is caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain and is often controlled by lithium.

I have quite a few suggestions which you can use or reject as you wish.  I have probably made more changes in the second section, hope you can make sense of it.

Nina

The house was gray, not because of {painting} [its paintwork, which was a faded maroon], just {of} [due to] age. {The paint was a faded maroon.} The house was forty years old but {showed its age poorly}[had quickly grown shabby]. It had known its share of hate, love, fears and tears. {The house had sheltered} two families [lived there] before it started to rot and fall apart{,}[;] before it was slowly dismantled. {Of} the second family, a mother, father two sons and two daughters[,] {they} spent thirty years in the house.

The father was an alcoholic and a verbal abuser{,}[.] [In his mind] nothing that any of the family [did was right] {could do was right in his mind}. {If the sons and daughters had}[Any] dreams [his children had] of a better life {then all hopes} were {shattered}[abandoned] until {they were of an age that they} could leave home.

The mother was an enabler[.] {s}[S]he could have left at any time but thought the fault was in her. She didn’t want {the}[her] children growing up with[] out both parental figures. {Too bad she realizes the damages done too late}[By the time she realised the damage this had caused, it was too late].

The first son {went in to}[escaped by going into] the military[.] {to get away, the next}[The next] year {the second son went too}[his brother followed] . The {o}[e]ldest daughter {got} married at the age of twenty[.] {and escaped that way,} {b}y the time the youngest was {old enough}[was growing up] the father had realize[d] {and acknowledge his problem and went completely sober}[and acknowledged he had a problem and stopped drinking].

But oh, how {the cruel hand of fate (cliché)} [unfairly fate] decides to lavish its [cruel] portions {out}. The first son got out and after missing out on his true love married {a woman} because he was lonely{,}[.] they had a son {that}[who] only lived to {be} eleven due to [genetic] medical problems at birth {and genetics of both father and mother}.

The second son married[,] had three girls[,] retired from the military and {became}[for eleven years was] an electronic technician {for eleven years when his}[till heredity incapacitated him] {caught him and took him from the work force to complete debilitation; from a mental disorder he still fights, his oldest daughter and her son both inherited part of the disease of bipolarism}.[He developed bipolar disorder, which he still fights and which his eldest daughter and her son both inherited.]

The oldest {daughter}[sister] had two sons. She now suffers from bipolar II and severe depression.
Her youngest son {caught part of it and}[was also diagnosed with the illness and suffered for a number of years {with bipolarism} but now seems to be ok without medication.

{As fo}r the youngest who had two girls, {she} seems to have caught the lucky end of the stick (cliché) [was the luckiest of the four siblings for she has no legacy of suffering nor does she have the same bad memories of her father’s wrath]  {and has had no suffering at all nor does she have the bad memories of her fathers rath before he stopped drinking.}

Now {the house,} the gray house with all its faded memories is gone[.] {with} nothing is left {there} but grass {and} a few dandelions{.  But the memories I have remain even though they have been forgiven, they} [and the memories that] still haunt {me sometimes in} my dreams.

and without the twiddly bits:


[b]The house was gray, its paintwork faded maroon.  Even though it had only been built forty years previously, the place quickly grew shabby. It experienced its share of hate, love, fears and tears. Two families lived there before it started to rot and fall apart; before it was slowly dismantled. The second family, a mother, father two sons and two daughters, spent thirty years in the house.

The father was an alcoholic and a verbal abuser.  In his mind nothing that any of his family did was right.  Any dreams his children had of a better life were abandoned until they could leave home.

The mother was an enabler.  She could have left at any time but thought the fault was within her. She didn’t want her children growing up without both parental figures. By the time she realised the damage this had caused, it was too late.

The first son escaped by going into the military. The next year his brother followed. The eldest daughter married at the age of twenty. By the time the youngest was growing up the father had realized and acknowledged he had a problem and stopped drinking.

But oh, how unfairly fate decides to lavish its cruel portions. The first son got out and after missing out on his true love married because he was lonely. They had a son who only lived to eleven due to genetic medical problems at birth.

The second son married, had three girls, retired from the military and for eleven years was an electronic technician till heredity incapacitated him. He developed bipolar disorder, which he still fights and which his eldest daughter and her son both inherited.

The oldest sister had two sons. She now suffers from bipolar II and severe depression.
Her youngest son was also diagnosed with the illness and suffered for a number of years but now seems to be ok without medication.

The youngest, who had two girls, was the luckiest of the four siblings for she has no legacy of suffering nor does she have the same bad memories of her father’s wrath.

Now the gray house with all its faded memories is gone. Nothing is left but grass, a few dandelions and the memories that still haunt my dreams.

[Guest_ohsteve_*]

Nina... thanks for the critique of this piece the only lines i have a quibble with  are 'The second son married, had three girls, retired from the military and for eleven years was an electronic technician till heredity incapacitated him. He developed bipolar disorder, which he still fights and which his eldest daughter and her son both inherited.' I dont have bipolar desease i have what is called Somataform disorder.whih has anxiety depression and other scary things in it but my eldst duaghter and her son just happen to only get the bipolar portion, my older sister and i figure both mom and dad had some form of depression but that it went undiagnosed for all the years because it was an unknown thing then. Un fortunately we the children and our children may suffer too which also gives me night mares, mostly my problem is i cant shut my brain off like most people can, and the subconsious works over time telling my body that there are pains where there are not real pains but a mental image of pain still hurts..I hope this makes some sense. as it 3am here and i cant sleep. so i will come back later and do a revision, but thank you as always for your keen eye and diligent wadeing thru my stories. Oh and i am taking geodon ,ativan,effexor,wellbutin, and ambien which sometimes helps me sleep.
Steve
Steve

[Guest_Nina_*]

Hi Steve

I misunderstood what you'd written about your mental disorder, my apologies. I'm sorry you such problems with your sleep as well as nightmares and imaginary pains. I also have nightmares so I understand how frightening and upsetting they can be. I hope your tablets are helping.

Nina

[Guest_ohsteve_*]

Nina, Is not a problem, I was tired when i wrote that didnt mean to sound so snappy..I really do apreciate the in depth way you look at things. I have more good days than bad and I am doing a lot better now than two years ago when all this started.
Steve

[Guest_Nina_*]

Hi Steve

I hope you don't mind but I edited the post for you so that the revision now appears above the original.

Nina

[Guest_ohsteve_*]

Thanks Nina for some reason the edit wouldnt work for me. But now it seems to be ok... hmmmm. Strange, very strange.

[Guest_Toumai_*]

Hi Steve

I like the way that the house is the link through this family tale - a neat (and poetic) device. So many problems are passed on - learned or genetic, it is hard to decide. (I worked in psychology for years and the stats analysis to try to tease apart the effects of nature vs nurture were awesome).

I am working with your revision here. As always, only suggestions: YOUR story, so use or loose my comments as suits you.


The house was gray, its paintwork faded maroon. Even though it had only been built forty years previously, the place quickly grew shabby. It experienced its share of hate, love, fears and tears. Two families lived there before it started to rot and fall apart; before it was slowly dismantled. The second family, a mother, father two sons and two daughters, spent thirty years in the house.

I love your opening para - very nice intro from the peeling paint to the emotions within and thence to the family. I just wonder if you need to mention that there were 2 families (cos that begs the Q what about the first family?). You could say: A family lived there before ... dismantled: a mother, father ...

The father was an alcoholic and a verbal abuser. In his mind comma nothing that any of his family did was right. Any dreams his children had of a better life were abandoned until they could leave home.

The mother was an enabler. She could have left at any time but thought the fault was within her. She didn’t want her children growing up without both parental figures. By the time she realised the damage this had caused, it was too late.

The first son escaped by going into the military. The next year his brother followed. The eldest daughter married at the age of twenty. By the time the youngest was growing up the father had realized and acknowledged he had a problem and stopped drinking.

But oh, how unfairly fate decides to lavish its cruel portions. The first son got out and after missing out on his true love married because he was lonely. They had a son who only lived to eleven due to genetic medical problems at birth.

The second son married, had three girls, retired from the military and for eleven years was an electronic technician till heredity incapacitated him with Somataform Disorder, which he still fights and which his eldest daughter and her son both inherited full stop? bipolar disorder. bipolar disorder seems to be tacked on to the end of the sentance? I am not quite sure I can follow how it fits (sorry if I am missing something)

The oldest sister had two sons. She now suffers from bipolar II and severe depression.
Her youngest son was also diagnosed with the illness and suffered for a number of years but now {seems to be ok} [copes ?] without medication.

The youngest, who had two girls, was the luckiest of the four siblings comma for she has no legacy of suffering nor does she have the same bad memories of her father’s wrath.

Now the gray house with all its faded memories is gone. Nothing is left but grass, a few dandelions and the memories that still haunt my dreams. You use memories twice in this last para - perhaps you could find an alternative for one?

Fran

[Ephiny]

Hello Steve,

This is such a powerful piece of writing. I'm not very good at making suggestions for prose..so I'm sorry I have no ideas for you but the changes you have made are terrific and further enhance this beautifully written piece, all the more so for being true to life. I am sorry too, to hear of the problems you suffer with and really hope that the writing and the tablets help you.

I thought you used the image of the house really well, in describing how it has become run down over the years, and its link between the stories of the people who lived there..and how unfortunately, some problems and situations can run through families, like a cycle almost.

You did a wonderful job with this..

[Siren]

Hello Steve,

I ventured into this story not really knowing what to expect. I do like the metaphor of the gray house. It's color mirroring the family's pain.

That said, for me I would have liked a longer version. Using the one with the memories as a narrator, to take us through the pain and realizations and growth of every family member. I know that this can grow to quite a piece, but perhaps you can consider for a novella.

Reading the lines I hungered for more. I could envision the father reign and mother's defeated soul. I even drew an image of them in my mind. That's how much I liked it.

Sorry for babbling. and Thanks for the read.

Dani :0

[Guest_ohsteve_*]

Luci and Dani thanks for the comments, it is possible that I could at some future point expand this out.
Steve