A Crazy Notion

Whilst clearing out my memory stick, I came across a Word file I forgot existed. The Word file contained the beginning of a story I co-wrote with a friend, two years ago; when I was young, naive and dreamed that one day I would become a novelist like Terry Pratchett or Neil Gaiman...

I was filled with such fanciful notions back then. We held the belief that the story would eventually manifest itself into Nobel prize-winning literature.

After writing a few pages, the story was abandoned and stuffed into a memory stick, never to see the light of day.

So after such a long time I read the story. And I thought parts of the story were damn good which is why I've decided to post an extract for you to read:


He stumbled awkwardly through the blackened streets of Dvirkivschyna, his mind as uncertain as the fluctuating MICEX. All his life he had lived a secluded life of religion but after reading the Book, he had been inspired like a Russian peasant to change his life.

The book had changed his life. It had given him a new start. It had inspired him to start a new adventure and release him from the shackles of religion.

He followed the path to the harbour and approached the sand-strewn beach. But the tranquil place he used to know was filled with commotion. He watched a great dark mass of capitalist Russian scum approach the rabble of discontent Ukrainian townspeople. The megaphone blared,

“The Russian Authority does not accept the Ukraine as a legitimate state. Swear your allegiance to Russia or be crushed like the pitiful Ukrainian stink-worm under the proud borsch-eating bear of Russian inequality.”

“As the pitiful spineless Ukrainian people we submit to our Russian Oppressors. Praise be to our borsch eating neighbours!” The townspeople began to walk away donning fur hats. Boris ran in front of them and blocked their path.

“How can you cast away your Ukrainian nationalism so easily? Comrades, you have let me down…” He pointed accusingly to each one of them. This took some time but when he was finished he continued his speech.

“We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in Ukraine, we shall fight on the borsch ponds of our motherland, we shall fight with growing nonsensical oil referendums and economic treaties of catastrophic proportions, we shall defend our fishing potential, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight in the gas plantations and in the poor quality wheat fields of woe. And we shall never suspend inflation!”

Boris struck a noble pose with a hale of Kalashnikov fire. A ragged cheer went round. His heart welled up with pride at the sight of his Ukrainian comrades spurring him on until he realised that his bodily fluids were pouring from a bullet wound to his chest. He watched his Ukrainian comrades hug their Russian oppressors. He collapsed on the floor, alone, pitiful and lacking in blood.

So to summarise the story: It's about the struggle of one politically minded individual as he tries to prevent Russia seizing control of Ukraine. The plot is weak because it's humour (and it wasn't really thought through)

And I know parts of it are awful and make you want to cringe... I was only 14 when I wrote it.

The reason I'm posting this is because I'd like some feedback on the story, from what you've read of that extract (I would include the whole thing but it's far too long and parts of it are shit).

And the reason for the asking of feedback is because I'm filled with a desire to rewrite and finish the story now that I'm a more mature and capable writer.

Naturally, Torquer has already informed me this crazy notion of mine is destined for failure.