Fall on Your Knees

Characters:

James, husband, piano fixer, incestuous Diddy
Materia, wife, twelve when James married her
Kathleen, first daughter, died at 19
Mercedes, child
Frances, child
(2) baby girl and boy

Story itself:

initial reaction: bruh wtf

middle reaction: bruf wtf

later reaction : bruh wtf

Frances, what the fuck did you do. This was like escalation 47 already, since shit, the initial chapters with James and Materia were dis-fucking-gusting.

(If I wasn’t already a feminist, I’m a feminist ten times over because of the shit James did. Shit, fuck, shit, fuck!)

Prose:

this shit is fucking crazy. never seen anything this insane while also being incredibly grounded, channelling absolute insanity through hyper-sensory detail. Opened my prose eyes. It was many steps above what I was doing, completely broke my assumption that you couldn’t write insanely fucked up shit through observational precise sensory details and the most insane conclusions drawn from how things are described even while saluting observation. The higher the granularity, the more f’d up the shit being shown through all the details surrounding the event was, like that trope of showing the sky while someone’s getting their ass kicked on the ground. Sticks to you and then vanishes like nothing ‘cause the characters are just that insane.

Anything to do with storytelling honestly is just this approach with prose filtered through everything that happens event-wise. The structure is practically a bunch of what I’d call “vignettes of inundation.”