Okay, let's start with
Observations and maybe work our way backward, depending on how I'm feeling.
I... Hmm. Right, so this is the thing:
All fanfiction writers are amateurs, but not all fanfiction is amateurish. But this story?
Definitely amateurish. But aggravatingly so, because it occupies this sort of liminal position where it's not terrible enough
not to read, necessarily, but it's certainly not
good enough to recommend. 'Mediocre' is a mean word, but basically every element of this story could have been—and needed to be—executed better. At the risk of sounding crassly unkind, this is the kind of story I would picture being printed in double-spaced Times New Roman on a blank white Word file. (If you get my drift.)
Like, the plot, conceptually—it's kind of ridiculous. Not "lol I dropped your toaster in my koi pond" ridiculous, but, like, "none of this is reasonable at all" ridiculous. Gonna have to echo Mahorfeus, here: fully-grown adults should not be nearly so excitably invested in the lives of teenagers. That really is kind of, like, unacceptable, or something. It's
weird. None of the adults in this story sound anything
like adults, which is a problem for the story, because these characters are not merely adults but
the kind of adults dignified and professional enough to get hired in an educational setting.
Now, I'm not inherently
opposed to a Greek Chorus fic, but LiTF went in exactly the
wrong direction with it. This isn't the kind of story you write about
adults: it's the kind of story you write about
firsties. Had this story been about first-years at the dinner table swapping rumors about the rather well-known upperclassmen, this story could have been twelve times more realistic and more reasonable. Plus, you could have
fleshed them out a bit more. Create a clique of gossipy girls with various interesting personality traits. Give them little eccentricities—maybe make one of them a complete airhead and another one a snarky bookworm. You could proceed with the same themes—that these students are being cheered on from the sidelines—but from the perspective of kids admiring their
senpais, rather than adults being kind of disturbingly involved in their students.
So, I finished a draft of this post without realizing that the narrator wasn't Nurse—I had to reread the story to pick up that this was a lowercase 'n' nurse. So I had to redo everything after this post. But seriously, the voice in this story is a problem. Take a look at how absolutely
threadbare this opening paragraph is:
Lost in the Fire wrote:By 2007 I had already been a member of the nursing staff at Yamaku for over three years. An old friend of mine was the head nurse at the school and when he offered me a position on his staff I accepted. In the time I had spent there I had seen waves of young men and women triumph over their disabilities and set out to conquer the world in the way they saw fit. I also saw those less fortunate squeeze the most out of what little time they had left.
Like is it just me or is this paragraph drowning in platitudes and clichés? It's so
stiff. "Waves of young men and women." Really? Couldn't this person have said that a bit more casually? Like "swarms of kids" or something?
"Triumph over their disabilities." He sounds like he's submitting a graduation speech to his middle school principal. Part of the problem is, of course, that this author seems to have
no idea when to drop a comma—they're so stingy, like the author is Dalton Trumbo writing
Johnny Got His Gun. And that paragraph is so dry, so
expositive.
"An old friend of mine was the head nurse at the school and when he offered me a position on his staff I accepted." Really? Like, you're just going to say it so flatly? How do you
know Nurse? Why did he give you the position? Actually, fuck it. I'm rewriting this paragraph. I'm going into the breach.
I, having nothing better to do, wrote:One ugly morning a couple years back, I'd been sucking down a sports drink, a vain attempt at overcoming my hangover before my shift started, when my cell, buried in my purse all the way across the room, tragically began ringing. My husband, ever the gentleman, spared me the discomfort of having to lurch painfully out of my chair to retrieve it and took the call for me, which made things more than a little awkward when it turned out the caller was my ex from college. I could feel Tetsuo glaring at me throughout the whole phone call, and even after I got off the phone and explained my ex just wanted to offer me a job, he spent the whole day brooding. Fucking typical.
When I saw Goro later that week, at a posh-looking high school not far from the university, it was admittedly tense—but once I (quite pointedly) directed his attention to the sparkle on my finger, we were actually able to catch up pretty amiably (and platonically). It turned out he was the Head Nurse there; though our breakup had been bittersweet (and completely his fault,) I actually found myself happy to see he'd done so well for himself. He told me that his department had an opening, and he'd been looking for a nurse he could put his faith in to fill the position. It came as quite a shock when she offered me the position, then, because last I'd checked, getting Goro to trust me with anything was like trying to find a pink dolphin in the Hudson Bay.
I've been working at Yamaku Academy ever since, other than the year I took off after I gave birth to Ai. Though I hadn't been working there as long as some of the other nurses, I'd already seen a lot of disabled teenagers coming and going through the school—really motivated kids who seldom let their limitations slow them down—and when they graduated, it always seemed like they'd be pretty well on top of that whole 'adulthood' thing. (Compared to me, anyway. I was a mess back then.) Of course, some of those students wouldn't be having much of an adulthood, but those were generally the pluckiest ones. Even staring down the rising darkness, they lived out their shortened lives with bright, almost preternatural cheer.
Does that sound maybe a little more natural? Does that seem like a slightly more interesting and organic way to begin a story? Like, hopefully nobody thinks my writing this was pretension—I couldn't think of a clearer way to illustrate why this story drives me bananas. When other people see a story, I see a bunch of lines that say "[INSERT FLAVOR HERE]".
And, okay, you'll notice I had to turn one paragraph into three—maybe I'm just a wordy motherfucker, but I think this is a problem that's kind of endemic to people writing one-shots. "One-shot" means "a story that can be told in one installment", not "a story that feels like every single sentence was abbreviated." If a one-shot is a microwaveable pizza, this story is more like a hot pocket. And I find hot pockets kind of disappointing. This story was small enough to be a one-shot, but too big for its 1,500 words. It's more like the outline of a story than a story itself—and even the
outline needed work.