Week 4: Response to Emily's "W4: Junkyard 3: -Mount Ignio in Gubbio-"

The mountain outside of Gubbio is called the red-hot mountain.  One night a year it glows with with light as mortals race up the trails curving around the mountainside to the basilica at the peak for a celebration of candles.  Everywhere, candles are the symbol of the small, mountain city inaccessible by train.  Candles, light, red-hot.

But the city is dark.  Inside the basilica, the only light streams through stained glass windows onto the mummified remains of a long dead mortal revered as a saint, but decomposing just like the rest of the city. The candles of prayer are electric bulbs lit by a coin; no smoke, moving flame, tell-tale soot, soothing heat, or glow of life in sight. 

Three giant wooden candles reaching almost to the ceiling stand against one of the walls of the basilica.  The wood is dark, the weight oppressive, and though they are candles, they do not glow. They do not burn as normal candles do. They merely stand, silent and tall, guarding in the darkness a long dead corpse that cannot escape its glass prison.

The red hot mountain over the city of candles is dark and forested, dotted by the stray basilica the size of a small house.  Birdcages on a system of pulleys haul travelers up the mountainside, gifting them with a view that is breathtaking in the sunlight.  But no light shines from the mountain, no red hot glow, no light at all.  The mountain of light outside the city of candles is dark, revered for the lit that it is forbidden to shine.  Light is left to the imagination.

Light is a myth. 

Emily, I'm impressed. I think this draft demonstrates some serious potential, both with what you have already employed and with its possibility for future drafts.

The end: "Light is myth." That statement is a bit baggy. It's abstract--both light and myth are more concept than they are concrete objects--and it's two abstracts connected by is (we generally run from "to be" verbs). That said, it might capture the point of this draft if you allowed yourself to show the "light is myth" idea more than telling us. You are already well on your way--the description of the dark and forested mountain, the image of people pulled up the mountain in birdcages, the "long dead corpse that cannot escape its glass prison." All of it lends itself to this idea of the mythic, the otherworldly.

I'd like to see more of that. You describe the mountain nicely. Now, go a step further--don't go so far as to make this a mythical location, but explore why you might see this particular location as "other worldy" in a way that is totally new. We typically default to, say, complaining about the plumbing or the language to illustrate our discomfort in a new setting, a new culture. This, I think, might get at that idea in a much, much more subtle way. I'm intrigued.

Also, consider molding it into a poem. This lends itself to that form very well and it will force you to put a little more pressure on each image. Mind your verbs, too. Don't use any to-be verbs (is, was, be, are, were, been, being.). Try to avoid "have," "do," "get"--verbs that do not show any particular action. We can really only use a verb like "run" in a very concrete manner. "Get," however, lends itself to a ton of nonspecific actions (get out of here, get a dress at the store, get in the car, I get to go home and pet my cat next week, etc.).

Brava, chica. Very imagistic.