"Don't Look at the Fog" by SpitFlame - Review · 1:19pm Nov 24th, 2020
Today I'm gonna be reviewing a horror story, published a few years ago, called Don't Look at the Fog by SpitFlame.
Wait a minute, SpitFlame?! Do I know him?
So... yeah.
I'm gonna review my own story. Well, "review" in the sense that I'm gonna be breaking down everything that (I think) is wrong with it, and perhaps try to extrapolate from that what I've learned in order to improve my future stories.
The problem with me is that I always end up regretting/hating everything I write. The only thing I write that I don't hate is whatever I'm writing at the current moment, but once I move on to something else, I look back with horror-tinged disgust. I have no doubt in my mind that I'll look back on Apropos of the Sinners (the story I'm currently working on (after I finish it in the year 2077)) with disappointment, with that general feeling of "I could have done so much better." And so continues my journey to be the very best, like no one ever was, or something. And the story I'm reviewing is no different.
Please note that I'm a pretty young guy. I wrote Don't Look at the Fog when I was 18. Yes, I drink (have drank? have drunk?) and I've gambled and I've been to many different countries and I read a lot, but in general, in a very broad manner of speaking, taking everything into account, all in all, I'm not all that experienced, especially when it comes to writing stories, which is an art form that values experience and patience, more so than raw talent. Basically what I'm saying is that I'm an idiot and I don't know what I'm doing.
Lastly, I try to be honest in that blunt, talking-out-of-form kind of way. I'll say whatever I believe; and even if I'm wrong, and I end up later admitting that I'm wrong, at least whatever I said came from a place of sincerity (though sincerity is a much overrated virtue, isn't it?).
I'm dragging this. Let's move onto the review.
* * *
The only voice Twilight could comprehend in that instance was that of her consciousness.
This... is a pretty bad line. I don't know why I wrote it. I basically wrote "Twilight could only hear her own voice/thoughts" but I decided to make it sound awkward as fuck. I really need to re-read some of the stuff I write.
It wasn't like Twilight hit her head on a rock and lost her memories. She was just experiencing... a bit of a fever. Probably.
I think I stopped using ellipses in narration. It's better that way, I think.
Wait, no! She instantly became wholly conscious of this cloudiness in her head. She shot up, drank the water in a single gulp, and began wandering to the door, nearly knocking over the glass in doing so.
For much of this story, I was trying to write a Twilight that's smart enough to be self-aware of any supposed deficiencies she may have (like when you're drunk but you know you're drunk). She's always recognizing her dizziness or lagging thoughts or whatever, but it's never enough to make her change herself. With this story, I don't think I chose the right combination of character actions, mannerisms, dialogues, and motives to make it believable.
I really don't know how to explain it. I just don't like it.
(With Apropos of the Sinners, for example, I try to write the characters in a way that mirrors reality, where they feel like real people with depth to them, and not just unconvincing stick figures that are so common in people's OCs. With Twilight, while she obviously has to feel in-character, there's just something about her here that feels artificial, or too forced. I dunno.)
All I know is that I could be writing this much better.
"Nothing, I just don't understand anymore," said Twilight with a large yawn. She was far too fatigued to keep this up.
Wow. Talk about tell over show. Also, "keep this up"? Keep what up? I'm needlessly vague here.
"Sp-ike," she said weakly this time. "I think I... I think I need some pills. Anything. Ugh."
What pills? The hell are you talking about? I wanted her to say something to Spike, but I wasn't sure what.
The room was ponderously dark. So ominously dark, in fact, that it seemed to represent the vanquishing of all light.
God have mercy on me, because I don't think I can survive reading this nonsense.
First of all, ponderously dark or ominously dark? Which one is it? Those two adjectives are just stuck in there together haphazardly, like I was trying to sound impressive. Saying "so ominously" implies that I mentioned it being ominous before, right? But I didn't. So what the fuck, me? What was I doing?
Second, "vanquishing all light"? Isn't that just what dark is? Actually, a space can be dark without all light disappearing, so maybe this one is fine.
It was just like a dream: everything looked insignificant, distant, abstract. The buildings of Ponyville, previously indistinct in their own charming way, were now distinguished, each somehow individually, by an extreme sullenness. The sky looked dead in its defining features: no stars, no clouds, and neither sun nor moon. The expressive entirety of the town—strangled within the edifice of the endless fog—faded away the further one stared.
I don't know what to think about this bit of prose. I kinda like, but I also don't? I dunno. There may be too many commas, like too many layers to the descriptions that perhaps don't gell that well together. The "extreme sullenness" part could have been better written.
Twilight was, so to speak, concerned that her reason—reason and logic of all things—would leave her, as it tended to do to ponies in such... unnatural situations. She'd become anxious, seeing as how this wasn't a dream, and that anxiety would spiral into even more anxiety; it would become a self-fulfilling cycle, creating an eclipse of reason and will power, as modern psychology would say, till she went stark, raving mad, with no more self-control than a beast. This loss of reason was like a disease, and sooner or later it'd get to her.
Ah, okay, I like this. Could use some tweaking, but it's not bad.
Twilight decidedly set off at once
Decidedly set off? Bro, you're not a good writer when you write shit like this. "Setting off" (i.e. walking off) is a pretty general and determinate action. There's no need to add that word here.
As Twilight approached cautiously and uneasily (much to her surprise)
Makes no sense. Why would it be a surprise to her? Actually, I do know why: she told herself that she could still reason and that she would go about this efficiently and fearlessly, because unnecessary fear is unreasonable. The problem is that I never wrote this! How could readers know?
Somepony, or—something—could be hiding there
Dude, chill out on the em dashes. They're not impressive.
I'm gonna add a general note here. This story has several flashbacks in reverse chronological order detailing all of the events which lead up to the present. This was a mistake, and no doubt a gimmicky one at that. I should have told everything in order; would have been much more interesting. The plot structure here is just one giant gimmick, because I wanted to write something new for the sake of it.
The fog was declining, evaporating away from the enchanting levels of energy.
Fog... evaporating?
Lord God in Heaven, hear my prayers and grant me strength to finish this.
Also, I use way too many descriptors or additives instead of letting the dialogue speak for itself. Instead of Twilight saying something normally, she has to say it "at length" or "nearly stammering" for some reason. I need to stop doing this. It's bad form.
Twilight had wandered in warily, not expecting anything but, at the same time, suspecting some sort of magic just like what she found in the party planning cave.
Not expecting anything, but also expecting something specific? What the fuck. What was I thinking when I wrote this? The EqD pre-reader must have accepted this story out of pity for my efforts.
Her friends' expressions were all half-hearted, not conveying any feeling—not that Twilight blamed them.
I don't know why, but I feel like this could be better written.
"Maybe it's day, and the fog's just super dense," she remarked, but felt disappointed nonetheless. That doesn't make any sense.
Holy shit, the story is becoming self-aware!
Twilight was seething, teeth grinding.
Given the context, "seething" is a very bad choice of word.
The former simple-hearted energy, so familiar to and representative of her, had given place in her to sullen irritability, disappointment, cynicism, as it were, to which she was not yet accustomed and which was a burden to her. But, above all, Twilight finally came to the conclusion that she was ill, clearly, on the edge of a fever.
Oh, but I do like this. This is good.
Then there's some part with Granny Smith that was kinda weird and out-of-place.
"Am I not allowed to get what I want?" [Twilight] babbled wrathfully.
Damn yo, I feel the same way.
* * *
Okay I'm gonna stop here, about halfway through. I never intended for this to be a full-on commentary anyway.
This was supposed to be a horror but it doesn't feel that way, mostly because the monsters are omnipresent and you can't really rely on jump scares. I tried to write Twilight in a compelling way but she came off as pretty flat in my opinion, not to mention the abrupt ending that, frankly, I should have retconned.
Prose was garbage: too many bad word choices, too much vagueness, frequent contradictions, contrived scenarios, bad form, bad everything. Characterization was weak and did not seem to add much, given how minimal it all was. The plot was mostly uninteresting and gimmicky. Dialogue was... okay. 3/10
Now then, how do I think I've improved? I have no idea. Hopefully a lot. I'm trying to pick better words to describe things more clearly, as well as make character actions and dialogue come off more plausibly and believably. I find writing OCs to be a lot easier for some reason.
So... that's that. I'm not gonna re-read this too heavily or anything. This whole blog post was very spontaneous, plus I'm tired as Luna after a long night's work of dream observing.
