A Love Story

[Ian Fortytwo]

A Love Story in the Woods.

The sun dappled through the canopy of ancient oaks, casting playful shadows on the forest floor. Anya, with her fiery red hair and a spirit as wild as the wind, was lost in thought. She was a painter, her canvas the world around her, her brushstrokes a symphony of colours.

Suddenly, a soft voice broke her reverie. "Excuse me, but I think you've dropped this." A woman with eyes the colour of the summer sky and a gentle smile stood before her, offering a fallen paintbrush.

Her name was Elara, a botanist with a profound connection to the natural world. She spent her days studying the intricate dance of life, the silent conversations between flora and fauna.

Their paths had crossed, two souls drawn together by an invisible thread. Anya, with her vibrant imagination, and Elara, with her grounded wisdom, found an unexpected harmony. They spent hours together, wandering through the woods, sharing stories, laughter, and dreams.

As the seasons changed, so did their feelings. What began as a friendship blossomed into something deeper, a love as boundless as the horizon. They found solace in each other's arms, a warmth that chased away the winter's chill.

Their love was a secret, whispered in the rustling leaves and carried by the gentle breeze. They dared not reveal their hearts to the world, fearing the judgment and prejudice that lurked in the shadows.

One evening, under the watchful gaze of the moon, they confessed their love. It was a moment of pure vulnerability, a declaration of their souls intertwined. In that moment, they knew they had found their forever.

Their love story was not one of grand gestures or public declarations. It was a quiet revolution, a testament to the power of two hearts beating as one. They painted their love on the canvas of the world, their strokes bold and unapologetic. In the eyes of each other, they found the universe.

 

[Ian Fortytwo]

Please feel free to critique this story. I found it a challenge to write, however it was a enjoyable experience.

 

[Snicklefritz]

Please feel free to critique this story. I found it a challenge to write, however it was a enjoyable experience.

I'm not into criticism today, Ian, but that was a lovely story for a Sunday morning. Thank you.

 

[Yozh]

Feels like a synopsis or précis of a larger work. Or like a brief segment telling the backstory of certain characters in a novel. Do you have any plans to expand this?

 

[Ian Fortytwo]

It is meant to be a short story.

 

[msstice]

I'll be blunt because you did put it up for critique. I hate to be one of those people, but it's not very original. The writing and the sentiment and the attempt are just fine, it just doesn't move me, simply because it could have been some 19th century poet I've been forced to read in school. I'll also warn that the coming Large Language Model apocalypse will have stuff like this gushing out of every orifice.

OK. How can I be constructive? I think it it's not very interesting. Perhaps an attempt was made to make it interesting by implying homosexuality but nothing really speaks to the problem of being homosexual in a homophobic world. You can easily flip the bits (i.e. the gender) of one of them and its all the same. You can even leave the forbidden love bit in by making one a noble and the other a groundskeeper (a 19th century staple).

I think what I am missing is Ian FortyTwo. What has Ian experienced? What does he really think when putting him/herself in the position of one of the protagonists? What real tragedy could befall these two people - the tragedy doesn't actually have to happen, just the shadow of it is enough.

Something like that, I think, would strike me as deeper and more genuine.

Keep writing Ian!!

 

[Ian Fortytwo]

Thank you for your comments. I'll take on board what you have said. However I write what I write, because I enjoy writing and this piece was a bit of a challenge to do. Once again thank you.

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

As love stories goes, this isn't very effective. You are essentially telling us how we ought to feel about their love, rather than showing us in a way that allows us to experience it along with them. Some visceral feelings would help: pounding hearts, leaping pulses, fluttering in the stomach, etc. Yes, those are cliches but they also accurately describe what people feel when in the grip of those emotions.

But the whole thing sounds like an advertisement for a story (or a synopsis), rather than the story itself. We need to see some of those walks through the forest, hear some of the stories they tell each other. You say Elara has a profound connection to the natural world, that she spends her days studying the intricate dance of life, but what is that like? We need details, more concrete language, and less of the pretty metaphors.

You say that their love was not one of grand gestures of public declarations, and yet that the same time say that they painted their love on the canvas of the world, their strokes bold and unapologetic. To me, that sounds like a contradiction. So which was it? Was their love a precious secret between them, or was it something they boldly allowed the rest of the world to see?

A story like this one needs a setting: a time and a place. Because depending on the time and the place being open about their love comes with different consequences. Secrecy becomes more or less urgent. (You've made your lovers female, which affords them some protection even in eras when male homosexuality was criminalized.)

In short, I think you need to think on this more, and don't just skim over the story and the characters. Instead, you should explore their feelings with sufficient depth to pull readers in.

 

[Ian Fortytwo]

Thank you.

 

[Swank]

It seems like a synopsis or treatment for a story. What is the reader to do with this list of relationship achievement with no jeopardy?

 

[Ian Fortytwo]

The more research I do into short stories, I now realise this is not a short story. Thanks for the inputs.

 

[Karapace]

A Love Story in the Woods.

The sun dappled through the canopy of ancient oaks, casting playful shadows on the forest floor.

Nice bit of writing. Really sets the scene.

I think the problem is you “tell” us that Anya has a wild spirit rather than showing us what that means. Her canvas is the world around her doesn’t make sense unless she is a magician, rather her inspiration is the world etc. with its symphony of colours.

Elara picks up her paintbrush but why was it dropped in the first place? As it stands it’s just a device picked out of the blue to facilitate an introduction. You could do more with it. If Anya had flung the paintbrush out of frustration at trying to capture some scene for instance.

Her name was Elara, a botanist with a profound connection to the natural world. She spent her days studying the intricate dance of life, the silent conversations between flora and fauna.

Again here you are telling rather than showing and although the prose is nice it bigs Elara up too much. Profound suggests a wise old person.

Then we go straight into this happened, that happened, but without any real sense of development. Why do they love each other? What draws one to the other?

The last section dissolves into a collection of quotes without any real sense of their struggle.

There is some nice descriptive writing but it gets a bit overblown. I think you could shrink it down to a more intimate scene and not try to tell us their life story. The opening in the woods is the best bit.