Book Jacket

 

rank 3263
word count 27445
date submitted 18.02.2010
date updated 01.06.2010
genres: Fiction, Literary Fiction
classification: moderate
incomplete

First Floor on Fire

Michael Russell

Every adult in Nevaya's life has let her down, and she will fight anyone to save herself from getting hurt even more deeply.

 

Imagine a Greek tragedy in the North Philly inner city. My literary/urban novel First Floor on Fire has a passionate anger and emotional complexity that could appeal to audiences who loved Sapphire’s Push (the book Precious is based on) or season four of The Wire. It centers around Nevaya Briggs, a strong, fragile, complex African-American teenager who must fight a predatory principal who thinks he’s saving her, an abusive mother, a collapsing school system and a violent classmate. Her ally is her openly gay brother Donyair, who must also battle a bigoted world while hiding his affair with his older brother. A seasoned teacher, Ms. Dee, tries to watch over Nevaya, but Nevaya has learned to never trust adults. Her spurned principal manipulates events to exact revenge, and the consequences are disastrous.

Different people have told me my story is either very edgy young adult or adult literary fiction. Please help me decide which is the better way to market it. Some readers might reasonably think I should classify First Floor on Fire as "over 18," but I think adventurous 15 - 17 year-olds could get into it.

 
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african-american, betrayal, coming of age, death, dysfunctional family, edgy, failing schools, family, gay, inner city, intense, murder, philadelphia,...

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First Floor on Fire, chapter one

First Floor on Fire                        © Michael Russell

 

 

Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones.  

Psalm 137:9

 

Chapter One:  Nevaya Briggs   

 

Yeah, I just threw Chardae down the stairs, so what?  I dont give a fuck. 

My boo died a year ago today.  Nobody got no business getting in my face.  They all should of shown some respect.  Cant take my cats with me to school to calm me down.  Why didnt I just cut school today?  For an anniversary, Ive earned a break. 

Chardae and her friends spotted me minding my own business on my way to Ms. Dees corny English class.  As soon as my feet touched the second floor, I saw them, ten feet away, and dont even try to say they aint been waiting.  They must of known my girls werent with me.  Oh, hell no.  She did not bring her mom in to help her.  That is too ghetto.  The whole family fight on the street, everyone do that, but in school?!  Chardae didnt waste a second.  Your mom!

Your grandmom!

Your mom a teabagging bitch! Bet she was fucking your man like a champ when he got popped!

So I did what I had to.   I grabbed that smut by her hair, shoved her to the door, kicked the door open, dragged her a few feet and pushed that shitball of hate down the stairs.  Tough and fast, I got her to the stairs before her stupid-ass friends and nasty bitch of a mom got to me.  She dropped just as the first blow struck me.  Chardae hit the next stair.  A foot to my belly.  The third stair.  Fist to my head.  Fourth stair.  Police officer grabbed the next fist, half a foot from my eye.  Fifth and sixth stair. The next officer pinned me to the wall.  

Damn right we had an audience.  Look at all those wannabes scream.  I got something done, and they had to live through me.  Got they phones out, filming me, screaming, wanting more.   I could always see things they couldnt, and they hated me for it.  I been making my dreams, and they wanted me to burn them one by one.   They tried to steal from me, but Im the part that cant be stolen.

Bunch of them laughing they asses off.  They think the whole fight funny, like something on YouTube.  Build theyselves up by trying to tear me down, but they gonna fall.   And if you think I could ever fall, then yall have done lost your minds.  Anyone can see Chardae on the floor, curled up, broken, twisted, blood carving up the shape of her face.  I saw my blood, too, but it winners blood. 

Wait - oh, my fucking God, she stood up again.  Lots of blood, but nothing really broken.  Never yell I won! before you know for sure they down for good. 

Chardae moaned, You ugly dark bitch.  I tried to run forward so she could get got proper, but the officers held me back.

I done the right things all week.  Aint nobody can say different.  You know, you really know Im never no teachers pet, but I can do right without kissing ass.  Why cant these corny police leave me alone?  Get your fucking hands off me!  I dont need your help!  Im gonna fucking kill those bitches!  They cant beat me! They gotta be in a group to even try any shit!

Officer Alina, stone and hammer, wasnt having it, dragged me into one of the security rooms, just her and me.  Nevaya, you little fuckhead, I been tired of telling you to stop this shit. How about it?  What happened this time?

So what??! Chardae shouldnt of called my mom a teabagging bitch!

Officer Alina threw me her dont-even-think-you-gonna-try-that-shit face. I told you time and time again to ignore them when they try that.  You let them set you off like that, you let them control you.

Every grown up try to say some corny shit to trick me into not throwing down.   So what??!!  You aint my mom, so dont say nothing to me.

You better be glad I aint your mom!  If you was mine -

And you got a nerve!  When I ever see you ignore anything?  You always in our business! Come around here and pretend youre some motherfucking role model!  That always gets them mad, find any way that they wrong.  Dont matter how small it is. If it change the subject, it good.

Call me out my name like that again.  Yeah, I knew she really meant it that time, but I never kiss no ass.

I leaned against the cracked wall, looked her clear in her eye.  Aiight, you a fatherfuckin role model!

Lava melted in Officer Alinas eyes.  Her left hand hit the wall, her arm cutting me off in one direction. Navaya, you think you so hard.  If I pushed this much further, shed snap.  I knew I had better say something corny.

Yeah, every morning, I eat puppies on toast!

    That gave Alina an out.  She didnt have to beat my ass now. Well, you oughta know better than that.  Aint you never heard toast is bad for you?!

    She almost made me smile with that one.  At least she tried.  Dont mean she wouldnt rat me out for the price of a cup of coffee.  Dont mean I couldnt take her in a fair fight.  But she a cop with a gun, she got the advantage for now.

I know I messed up big earlier in the school year, and nobody better pretend they got any business reminding me about that.  But Im not gonna let myself fail, drop out, spend my life doing hair.  Im getting out of here, gonna go to college, make my brothers  proud, and those nasty-ass, dickeating-all-night, take-it-up-they-ass smuts cant stop me.   They hated me since third grade, cant let nothing go.  If I insulted them seven years ago, you can bet cash money they remember every word I said, very gesture I made, all programmed in they brains.  Yeah, I know everything they said, so fucking what?  They keep track of me, I return the favor.

My face must of snitched what I was thinking.  Officer Alina glared at me.  You cant go on like this.  Richard Allen and Blumburg girls have hated each other for years, and for what?!  Can you even remember when or how it started?  And now you gonna be damn lucky if you not in jail tonight.

Huh, who she think she talking to?  I been threatened with jail enough times to know when somebody talking shit to try to scare me.

Those bitches from Blumburg should not of fucked with us.  They never learn.  They too grown.  Those dickeaters is drawin.  Nobody from that dirty project ever been shit. We live in Richard Allen.  We dont play.  We didnt start nothing but we will end it. 

      Nana said to me, You make me so mad you make my ass wanna chew tobacco.  She know how it is.  The way you feel just before you explode and rain your blood all over the city.  Im about to snap.  Anybody give me any shit all all, Im a snap.  Especially today, the one day any fool should know to let me be.  Officer Alina aint been here long, so she dont know.

    I gotta get out of here, nobody knows me. Gonna kill the next motherfucker who look at me wrong.  Cut you open and burn everyone to ash.   Nobody say nothing to me - get out my mind and my face, punk ass teachers and haters think they know but they dont know shit GET THE FUCK OUT you aint gonna know me, never gonna touch my fire, my heaven and hell.  You just go on thinking Im some dumb bitch, and its your loss, cause youll never know.  Yeah, go right ahead and call me out my name. You wont break my skin, you wont tear up my guts, I wont pay no attention to you at all unless I beat you down.  You go ahead and think I bathe in the blood of baby bunnies so long as it keep you off my pussy.

    Officer Alina dont understand me.  She say she do, act like she do, but she one of them, not one of us, especially not one of me, so she dont know.  She kept her eyes on  me, got me alone in this falling-down room til they decide whether I go to jail or not.  I bet I dont.  Those bitches hate the police as much as I do, they wont press charges.  They want to get they own revenge, and the law would just get in the way.

 

    Why you asking me where we are?  You oughta know this is Killadelphia, Filthydelphia, The City That Smacks You Back.  We in the North Philly Badlands.  Dont ever tell me what we should do, what would make good sense, cause good sense never happen here.  Forget you ever learned those two words.  

Center City act like it made of platinum, and up northwest they a bunch of rich white stuck up neighborhoods, but Im stuck in the rotten soul of the city falling down all over us.  Broken glass never get cleaned up.  Young bols killing young bols.  Bitches killing bitches.  They dont know what they do, but they know they gotta do it.  Raw project law.  Never shook the hand of nobody who own no stores.  They always behind bulletproof glass.

    Have I ever been out of town?  Naw, everything I know is here.  Id love to get out, but where would I go?  We aint allowed to live noplace else.  But dont you dare feel sorry for me.  Ill kick you ass if you try that shit.

    No matter what I crawl through, no matter how wrong it be, everybody try to stop  me being angry.  They say, Its not appropriate. What they actually sayin is my real pain take up too much of they time.  Gotta keep the factory goin, cant stop for a messy human.  I gotta make a way out of no way.

 

Miss Briggs.

Mr. Price.  Why that man always gotta say some obvious shit.  Waste of air, that all he be. 

I told you I never wanted to see you in my office again.

Then dont.  Im not trying to be here.  Not in this crazy, messed-up room.  Some things in his office look like they belong in rich white folks houses.  Glass cases and dark wood.  Shiny new laptop.  But the room still got cracks on the walls, old paint that look like mold.  One wall look pregnant, like it thinking about falling on our heads.

Miss Briggs.  You will not disrespect me in my own office.

That so?  Things sure change, dont they?

Mr. Price slammed his fist on the desk.  I knew I could make him snap.  The more all the rich people try to glue theyselves together, the more they snap. Oh, look, now he putting on his reasonable face.  The one he use when he want me to believe he care real deep about me.  He think he Gods blessing to the world, gonna save us all from ourselves just so well thank him. 

Nevaya, I am making an exceptional effort not to call the police.  Dont make me do it. He gonna sit there and lie to me like that?  He cant press no charges.  I know those Blumburg bitches dont want no police in the way.  And even if Price could throw me in jail, I aint make him do shit.

Principals and teachers must think we stupid.  They quick to suspend us beginning of the year.  Tell us they wont put up with none of us losing our minds.  And for awhile, they do kick out some young bols.  But then the numbers pile up.  If they suspend and kick out too much, then they the ones who look bad.  So they find excuses to pretend we dont do what we do.  Keep the numbers looking pretty.  Oh, yeah.  They think Im too dumb to figure that one out.  So I just let them think that stupid shit.  Cause when they think that, I win.

Nevaya, Im talking to you.

Yes, you are.

And I think you owe me an explanation for what you did.

Those bitches

Dont change the subject.  Why did you do what you did?

Because I had to!  People in charge sure do like to pretend we can all hold hands and just walk away from a fight.  If I did that, the fight would bum rush me.  They think they so smart, but what they really telling me to do is let myself get jumped.  And then they shake they heads and act sad and sorry for me.  We got this program for you, we got that program for you.  We promise this time it will change everything. Nothing at all like that program last year that was gonna change everything for me.  Try to fool theyselves into believing they saved the world.

You did not have to.  You could have ignored them and walked away.  Yup.  What did I just tell you?  They always say that.  They didnt hit first.  You did.

If I didnt, they would have!

You dont know that.  Like fuck I dont.  I keep telling you you need to find a way to de-escalate.  Oh, my fucking God!  Id like to see one of these soft motherfuckers de-escalate.  Theyd get they ass stomped in.  I could sell tickets. Everybodyd like to see folks who work in a school get theyselves a big mudhole in they ass.  Especially fuckheads who went to college and think they know it all.

You need to find ways of thinking outside the box. Oh, my fucking God!!!  Mr. Price dont even need to be here.  He would just have somebody play a file of what I already heard a million times.  Always the same shit by people who dont know what they talking about, but they think they so smart.  The faces change; the words dont.  They think they can make me change my mind by yelling the same thing at me my whole life.  I stopped listening a thousand years ago.

Tell me what I can do to help you.

Kill those smuts for me.  Do it slow.

You know you dont mean that.

Dont tell me what I dont mean.  I aint no child.  I wish just once an adult would offer to help me and mean it.  But no, I cant trust any of them.  At least those Blumburg smuts dont front.  They evil, right on the surface, no hiding.  Nothing I hate more than some big, friendly smile fronting for a devil.

The noise file wouldnt stop. I know you dont want to hear this

Then dont say it!

- but you are still technically a child.  And thats ok.  I used to be just like you.  Mmm hmm, anybody say that, it mean the conversation all about them.  I might as well not be in the room.  Just have that noise file play to an empty chair.  I understand just what its like to be a young person.  Nobody who really understand anything gotta let folks know how smart they is.  If you have it, we already gonna know.

This is your lucky day.  Mr. Prices eyes stayed on me just a beat too long.  Just like most grownups.  I knew he thought he so slick I wouldnt feel his nasty self oozing out to step to me.  

Mr. Price, why you staring at me?  I aint your shorty.

Nevaya! You will not disrespect me like that! How dare you! Veins dancing, sweat pretending it wasnt there, eyes putting on a show of being offended.  He sure knew just how offended to pretend to be.  Took him no time at all to figure out what I meant.  Bet he already rehearsed his answer.  I am a married man and would never treat my students like that.  I care about all of you, but not like that. The idea of anyone abusing any of you in that way makes me sick to my stomach.  You never know, he might even believe that shit he say.  But I aint taking that bet.

Good for you.

Quickly, he put on his calm voice, his saving-the-world voice, as if he never yelled. His shame-on-you-for-even-thinking-I-ever-yell fake warmth, warm like January concrete.  Nevaya.  Smiling, trying that eye contact trick all the players like.  They think they so slick when they pretend to look at my face.  I think we both know what youre trying to do.  As always, instead of dealing with your own misbehavior, you change the subject by pretending someone did something to you.

I stared straight ahead. No way I was playing this game.  I never pretend. I aint got time.  Why that man never say what he really mean?!  Always hiding behind someone and something.  That really make me feel some kind of way.

I am a merciful man.  I think of my students as my own children.  I grew up in North Philly.  I used to be just like you.  Fuck outta here. Fuck all the way outta here.   Only person who ever used to be just like me is me.  Im cooler than other folks my age.  Mmm hmm.  Once again, if you gotta say you it, then you aint it.  Im strict, and I believe in the rules, but I dont think you would be well served by being kept out of school.  And thats what really matters.  Your education.

Ha! I knew it! Like I said, if this was September, Id be kicked out by the next day.  But it almost March, and those suspension numbers have piled up.  Big bad principal sliced up by paper pushers.  About my education, my ass.

So Im not suspending you this time.  Instead, I want you to complete a ten-page research paper on the history of nonviolence.

Now if I believed I was really going to have to write that paper, Id have told him he was a crazy grandmotherfucker.  But I knew how this go down.  I come up with this or that sincere, almost crying excuse for why the paper not done yet.   Saying I have a big family emergency is the best way to go.  Maybe my cousin got shot. 

Eventually, hell forget that he told me to write it.  He can look all serious about school now and never have to follow up.

Aiight, Mr. Price, Ill write the paper.

Thats good, Nevaya.  See how far being reasonable can take you?  If you can keep up this change in attitude, you can go places in life.  There was this time I was your age and feeling just like you …”

His story was days long.  To keep myself from smacking him down, my head went through all Janelle Monaes jawns. Every word and beat.  Not the first time she helped me get through the day.  She know all about life, and nobody tell her who she gonna be.  Janelle from outer space, and that make her more human than most people I know.  That crazy in her voice tell the truth.  She showed me the world, so Ill always have her back.

Every minute or so, I said Uh huh and sounded real interested.  Gotta pick my battles.  The playing field here always weighted against me.  I knew that in a fair fight, Price be face down.  Bleeding from a hundred holes.  Today a good day in one way:  at least Price not boring me to death trying to get me to like his corny oldhead music.  Nobody alive listen to that shit he like, but he preach and preach about it, like Id let anybody see me dance to somebody with a name like Run DMV, DMC, whatever the fuck it is. 

And Nevaya  …”  Uh oh, he gonna have to find something to pick on to make sure I know he think he won.  I dont want to have to keep telling you to obey the rules about school uniforms.  I expect better from you than to wear jeans under your uniform pants.

So I got away with a warning, just like I said I would.  I left the office and waved at one of the cameras in the hall.  School uniform rules one of a thousand parts of life that dont make no sense.  They say it for our own good, so we not distracted by clothes, not tearing each other down for not having the right name, the right style.  And they think if we not distracted, we can concentrate on school, be in the right frame of mind to learn.  Uniforms aint stopped nobody from tearing nobody down.  We all notice if some broke ass bitch wear the same uniform every day, with the same stain on the same part of they shirt.  We know who buy they shoes from Payless or get them from the church and mosque poor piles.  I dont give a fuck about none of that, but I know everybodys business, anyway.  We all hear about it whether we ask or not.  And now we gotta buy a bunch of clothes so ugly we never gonna wear them outside this falling-down, ugly-ass building.  Maybe they figure that since the school building all ruined, the clothes have to match.

   

I am so glad those bitches dont know about my favorite place in Fairmount Park.  Nobody know, even though it not really that far away.  So many people I know scream they heads off at the idea of walking more than a few blocks,  They just wanna stay home, drink they Hugs, smoke they weed, fuck they whatever. All that might be decent for them, but I cant do that. Staying trapped in four walls all the time would make me snap.

Most of the time I walk there, but today I was feeling tired, so I took the bus. At least that way, I wouldnt have to hear the same old noise.  You must be crazy walking all that way.  You a young girl.  Anything could happen.

Everybody told me that, as if they all the first one who ever think it up.  Shaking they heads, acting like they feel sorry for me.  Sure, everybody have picnics and family reunions in the park, but hanging out by yourself, just to be there? That some crazy white mess.  Oh, well. Nobody ever gonna mistake me for no white bitch, and Im a do what I want.

Cause this be the place that keep me from killing everybody who make me feel some kind of way.  Ms. Dee said Fairmount Park bigger than Central Park.  Never been to New York, so I dont know, but Ms. Dee seem to know what she say.  You could get lost here.  After some days, I wanna get lost.

First time I went, I hated it.  I was a lot younger, and some Blumburg bitches chased me for blocks until I lost them in the park.  They kept screaming, Bitch, we gonna find you and tear up you ass!   But I found a spot full of bushes with thorns.  Aint  nobody wanted to search them all just to find me.  And I sat still, didnt even let myself step on a twig.  They got tired of looking for me and walked away, Chardae yelling over her shoulder, Bitch, this aint over!

  I had to stay awhile until I knew they wouldnt catch me.  Too many for me to fight alone.  But I almost felt more scared sitting in the woods than I would in a fight.  Everything too quiet.  In normal life, nobody making noise, we all know something about to go down.  You cant trust quiet.  Took me awhile to figure out nothing goes down here.  Yeah, there was that young girl who got raped and killed, but that just one of a few times.  There be raping and killing on my block every time you turn around. Well maybe not every time, but some days it sure do feel like it.

So yeah, I hated the quiet at first.  The park so beautiful it made me nervous.  I had to calm down from all the calm.  Not feeling like my hand on the trigger just wasnt natural.

But something about it kept bugging me and calling to me, so I tried it again.  I wanted to spend some time with the trees and the sky.  Killadelphia kill the sky, cover it up.  Buildings stand over you like bullies in a playground.  But none of that happen here.  I could let some poison out my head, and it stayed out long as I was here.

I can see the face of God out here.  The city blur and ash Him away.  I dont tell nobody about this.  Theyd think I was corny and crazy, like teachers on Earth Day.  I guess they think God live in a church or mosque a few times a week, and then he done with us.

Well, yeah, I did tell Donyair and brought him out here.  He loved it, but then he had the nerve to tell me he went again by himself and got naked, just to do it.  I was not trying to hear that.  Seeing my brother showing his ass would make me wanna go blind.  Why the fuck he do that?  It sounds like something crazy white people like to do.  Naw, dont say that, now Im doing it, even though what Donyair do sound like that.  He said it made him feel free, so I told him to have his own fun, but from then on, I was going to Fairmount Park by myself.

You wouldnt think Killadelph would have so many trees and bushes, but it do.  If you know where to look, you got places you can hide.  Places nobody else think to look.  Nobody in they right or wrong mind.  If I never came here, I would have flowed into lava long ago, burned the whole fucking block with me.

I liked to wait around long enough to see animals.  At home, we only get the animals mean and tough enough to survive anywhere: dogs, cats, rats, mice, roaches, pigeons. They all dirty.  You wont catch me touching a one of them. Well, maybe cats, but just my own.  But here, if Im lucky, I can see a rabbit and sometimes even deer.  Things I thought were only on cartoons.

One time almost made me jump outta my skin.  At a creek bed was the biggest bird I ever seen.  Tall and skinny.  It looked like a punk everybody knew would fall down, and wed watch just so we could laugh.  But then its beak rushed the water and killed a fish.  Lightning on crack.  Nobody told me a bird could do that. 

Turns out this crazy bird is called a heron.  Made me laugh cause it sound like the way real people say heroin.  We say hair-on.  White people say it wrong.  Bet that why the bird so skinny.  Heron on hair-on.  I could die laughing.  

Small waterfall twenty feet away.  Looks big close up.  Wish it could wash away the nasty city making my lungs want to throw up.  Headaches from God knows what chemicals.  Ms. Dee said white people trying to kill us.  I dont know if she right, but I wouldnt put it past them to try.  Ms. Dee talk crazy a lot of the time, but sometime it the kind of crazy that make more sense than books do.  Didnt even know the city air hurt me before I got to spend some time away from it.

Ms. Dee grew up in Arkansas.  She said it look like the park, but more so.  She loved the outdoors and clean air.  I asked her why she never went back; she said theyd have to haul away all the mean white people before shed set a toe there again.  She sounded so sad I didnt say nothing else to her.   Not many folks make me want to let them be.

I loved and hated the feeling of rain on my face.  It made me smile like a waterfall breaking free and frown like a wet kitten.  Sometimes, I erased the outside world, but other times, it sliced its way in.  I wished I could lock all the bullies in a cage.  Get me a long knife, jab it in, stab them all to death.  They didnt even have to be nice to me.  All they had to do was not beat on me and spit on me, and they couldnt even manage that.  They think it cute to make me a monster.  Well, ok, then.  If that what they think of me, Im a be the scariest motherfucking monster anybody ever saw. 

Oh, try to forget that.  Just for a little while.  Look at the sun stabbing through the no, no, no, I meant shining through the space between the leaves on the trees.   Nevaya, you dont have to fight right now.  Fall back.  Dont be so hype. 

I stayed until I thought I could look the world in the eye again without feeling some kind of way about it.  But going home always made me so mad.  I got one foot on the bus, and all around me a bunch of fools whod die if they stopped running they mouths.  Peace and quiet cracked into sharp broken glass.  Felt like an invasion, made me wanna snap even more.   I bet a lot of folks in this crazy town never had a quiet moment in they lives.  Not even when they sleep.  Like sharks who die if they stop moving, they always gotta be talking.

So I tried to turn off my ears, pretend all the noise wasnt there.  Soon, it blurred into a low hum.  I could deal with that.  Until

Teabagging bitch smut!

- slashed open my calm and let the noise and poison pour in.  Oh, no, they didnt.  They did not ruin my peaceful afternoon.  I should of just walked back home.  Took the bus cause I felt a bit tired.  That voice made me feel a lot tired.

You think you hard, Nevaya!  You aint tough! You aint shit! You cant beat me!  Chardae had Aeyana with her.  She never had the heart to try to take me on her own.  Aeyana always whispered in her ear, always seemed to give Chardae an energy boost, make her hate even more.

In my bag was a mostly empty glass bottle of juice.  I wanted to smash it over Chardaes head so bad, glass and citric acid jumping her blood.  But the bus was full, too many witnesses, all pretending to be better than us but watching every second.  Bet some of them took notes. 

And that bitch said my name.  And my look stand out too much.  What am I gonna say, No, officer, you mistaken me for that other girl who dress like a paint factory done blew up?  Motherfucker, I coulda really taken her, too. 

So I just looked Chardae straight in the eye and told her, Say that again when we both alone.

Why you want us to be alone, you dyke?!  Yeah, I know you really want us to be alone!

I know you want that, bitch!  I aint no dyke! She call me out my name the same way every time.  I never knew how much of the shit that come out her mouth she even believed.

Yes, you is. Im a embarrass you in front of everybody!

You talk tough in front of a group!  Just wait til I catch you with no help.  You never had such a beatdown.

I oughta sock the shit outta you right now!

You got a nasty dirty smut ass that cant cash that check!

Little girl, go home and suck your brothers dick!  The next block is you stop! I know you cant wait for some tiny brother dick! Slurp slurp!

Red lightning through my brain.  I could not let that pass.  Didnt matter who could see now.  Lightning slashed so fast I couldnt remember standing up and running to Chardae, bottle in hand. 

A flying glass and blood fountain.

Screaming.

Jump out the side door.

Run a blur, hoped nobody on the bus remembered right what I look like.

I thought I saw Chardae nothing but a melted puddle of blood, skin and glass.

Heart drumming.  Keep running.  Dont hear no footsteps.  That bitch aint shit.  I won again.  Keep it coming.  I cant lose.  

Ow! My back hurt.  Beating down stupid bitches really fucked up my muscles.  But Im a recover soon, absorb the pain, not let anyone see.  Nothing can keep me down.  Yeah, the whole world hate on me.  But they all punks.  Cant catch me, cant beat me.  Not if I beat them down, get home first, lock the door, stay clear of all windows.

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Sheila Belshaw wrote 693 days ago

FIRST FLOOR ON FIRE:

Michael,

Wow! Can you write!

From line one, I was transported into another world. The immediacy of your prose, the authentic dialogue, the starkness of your observations that ring with truth and anger - this is so impressive. I can see it on a film already, so better you start writing the film script pronto.

Yesterday's over-eighteens are today's fifteens and sixteens, so yes, I think this can be for them too. They see everything they want to see on the internet anyway. Why deprive them of such a brilliant book?

Backed with admiration,
Sheila (Pinpoint)

zan wrote 665 days ago

First Floor on Fire
Michael Russell

Fantastic cover! Love the vibrant mix of closely associated colours and the abstract images. What they suggest to me I can't say here - except that it reflects appropriately what I read, visual matching the literary. Real art as is your literary piece here. Pitches firstly - people here may not like the fact that some of it reads like a review - I'm not bothered by it, but my own first pitch read like a review and, well, I changed it several times after complaints that it read like a review. So, you may want to look at this, or not. This is a clever, necessary piece because a lot of it is founded in harsh reality which many of us don't want to be true - but, these sorts of curcumstances exist and in some places, are overwhelming. I think this will have broader appeal if it is tagged as universal. The fact that is it's a story about a teenaged girl doesn't make it by that fact alone, YA. This is engaging - eye-opening, and I might need some strong liquor and possible therapy to read all of this in one go. "Nobody got no business getting in my face" - there's a lot of anger from the start. You've created a mirror here - an effective one where social, familial, perhaps even spiritual and political, truths reflect themselves. This is the kind of writing that responsible and good authors engage in - they record and reflect society. I feel strongly that this is an excellent piece which will go places. I have no editorial advise but you will encounter many "experts" here who will help with this aspect of your writing. This is going on my page so it can be recommended to others. Impressive, substantial and necessary writing.
Best,
Zan

Jared wrote 715 days ago

Michael, this is remarkably strong and effective writing. It's not light reading, that's for sure. You use words like a rapper on speed, spitting them out relentlessly. It's a tough life, portrayed by an uber-tough MC, ranting at the world. I appreciate a YA readership can handle tough themes, but when I reached chapter three, a great line here 'fire cutting my soul down past my marrow,' I thought you perhaps should reconsider the classification. If they want to read it, they'll read it, that's obvious, ut getting it to that stage may require a subtle approach. I'd pitch this as adult, and amend to classification from moderate to adult as well as it will remove any potential problems ahead.
Very strong writing, a fabulously enraged MC in Nevaya and cutting-edge dialogue. Backed, empatically.
Jared
Mummy's Boy.

homewriter wrote 504 days ago

Hi Michael, this is so good it should be in print already! Your explicit use of language is not the least bit artificial or demonstrative. It just fits the story with a kind of sculptured perfection. Backed, Gordon - The Harpist of Madrid

Becca wrote 509 days ago

Quite the interesting voice for literary fiction, but I love the honesty of the character, and a very interesting voice. I probably wouldn't want to read a book with a main character who uses the word "boo", but I have to admit I haven't seen that slang used in a book before and that definitely lends to the voice and gives it originality. The writing here is exceptional, and I hope this does as well as it deserves!

xBeccaX
The Forever Girl

CarolinaAl wrote 518 days ago

Your opening line hooked me. Your brilliant, dynamic story grabbed me and kept me riveted. Credible characters. Crisp dialogue. Confident narrative. Only one nit: Consider reducing the number of exclamation marks by half. Overuse reduces their effectiveness. Other than that, this is vital writing. I absolutely love this masterfully executed story. Backed.

First Floor on Fire wrote 521 days ago

Incredible,your writing is so real and gritty. Not sure what research was done but, sadly, I'm sure it's spot on. Sad to think that kids grow up like Nevaya, coming from a purely "white" upbringing. Not that I was sheltered, but I was in a way to this type of life. She seems to want more from life but her circumstances make it difficult. Kill or be killed.

Wonderful and happily backed
Denise



Thank you very much , Denise.

My research was my experience teaching five years in a Philly high school much like the one Nevaya attends. I hope I did right by my kids with my novel.

drachat wrote 521 days ago

Incredible,your writing is so real and gritty. Not sure what research was done but, sadly, I'm sure it's spot on. Sad to think that kids grow up like Nevaya, coming from a purely "white" upbringing. Not that I was sheltered, but I was in a way to this type of life. She seems to want more from life but her circumstances make it difficult. Kill or be killed.

Wonderful and happily backed
Denise

klouholmes wrote 553 days ago

Hi Michael, Nevaya's and the principal's perspectives ring with voice. The inside of the inner city school is glimpsed from both sides. It's interesting how James' POV is somewhat didactic, sure of his own goodness while Nevaya protects herself. The story surges to confrontation. Well-done! Shelved - Katherine (The Swan Bonnet)

nsllee wrote 554 days ago

Hi Michael

This feels so real. The voice is amazing and Nevaya is a hugely sympathetic character in spite of all the brawling and the bad language. Your experience in that hard school in Philadelphia really comes through. I think it would have an audience with teenagers. They probably wish that people wrote books like this for them, that could really speak to them. Backed.

Nicole
Chosen

Eveleen wrote 555 days ago

First Floor Fire
Backed with pleasure
Eveleen
(Turning a new leaf)

Amylovesbooks wrote 615 days ago

I like the first person narrative, the extremely fast pace and the immediate tension the first chapter brings. It's apparent to the reader this will be quite a story. Backed with pleasure.

Amy
Love Match

Mooderino wrote 616 days ago

Excellent voice and cracking pace. writing feels very polished and engaging. Backed.

btw my personal feeling is it should be written as an adult book and let younger people be drawn to it. Once I reached 16 I would never bother with a 'kid's' book.

Su Dan wrote 617 days ago

your quick paced narrative, really does work for this book. it flow well, is easy to read. great story telling...on watchlist...
su dan...read SEASONS...

Rusty Bernard wrote 624 days ago

Hi Michael,

I have backed your book because I was hooked by the pitch, loved the introduction and read on. How much more I read depends on time and commitment.

Enjoy everything and good luck.

Rusty Bernard
Psychiatric Evaluation

SusieGulick wrote 628 days ago

You are so totally fantastic, Michael! :) How can I ever thank you enough for backing my 2 memoir books? :)
Love, Susie :)

Andrew Burans wrote 629 days ago

You realistic, life-like writing style makes this finely crafted novel a pleasure to read. You are very unique on this site. Your work is well paced, well writen and your use of imagery is excellent. You would have to dummy down the book, thus taking away some of the realism, to classify your book as young adult. Keep it in the adult section. Backed with pleasure.

Cheers,
Andrew Burans
The Reluctant Warrior: The Beginning

SusieGulick wrote 630 days ago

Dear Michael, I love that you have broached the subject on a lot of levels - it's touchy & hard to communicate - you have done a very good job of relating feelingss & problems of the underdog. :) Before I began to read your book, I was prepared by your recap/pitch,which was very well done. :) Your story is good because you create interest by having short paragraphs & lots of dialogue, which makes me want to keep reading to find out what's going to happen next. I'm "backing" your book: When you back a book, it only improves the ranking of that book, not yours. However, the author whose book you are backing may decide to back your book also, in which case yes, your ranking would be improved...authonomy. :) Please "back" my TWO memoir books, "He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not" & my completed memoir unedited version? "Tell Me True Love Stories," which tells at the end, my illness now & 6th abusive marriage." Thanks, Susie :)
p.s. Remember: Every time you place a book on your bookshelf, your recommendation pushes the book up the rankings. And while that book sits on your bookshelf, your reputation as a talent spotter increases depending on how well that book performs. :)

Luk7 wrote 635 days ago

Love Nevaya's voice in First Floor on Fire, and the informal rhythms and rhymes that creep in - "heart drumming, keep runnin, keep it coming..." and all the action you show here. James Price's voice, in stark contrast, is quite oppressively full of I, I , I -- but this seems to fit with his missionary zeal in the synopsis, so I think it is working too. I think you get away with being so much inside his head after all that action, because his thoughts resonate with what we have seen through Nevaya's point of view.
I agree this book could interest late teens, though a late teen I asked about Precious said it looked like a really important film from the trailer, but given the option she'd choose to see something more escapist instead. I wonder who buys issue-based teen books - the teens or the parents? Still as long as it sells, and finds an audience...does that matter?

First Floor on Fire wrote 635 days ago

I cannot handle the slang and dialects at all. You compare the book to the series 'The Wire' which suffered from the same disease. In fact all you have created is another episode of that series. Why deliberately restrict your reading audience? Try to find an authentic voice which allows everyone into your story,. Patrick Barrett (Cuthbert-how mean is my valley)



It's fine if you don't like my novel, but all audiences are restricted. Even Avatar was not seen by the majority of the population. In my opinion, employing a "neutral" voice for this story would have been very inauthentic.

PATRICK BARRETT wrote 635 days ago

I cannot handle the slang and dialects at all. You compare the book to the series 'The Wire' which suffered from the same disease. In fact all you have created is another episode of that series. Why deliberately restrict your reading audience? Try to find an authentic voice which allows everyone into your story,. Patrick Barrett (Cuthbert-how mean is my valley)

M. A. McRae. wrote 663 days ago

I nearly turned this down right away as definitely not my taste. And yet it gets the reader involved, and more, - I think it's an important novel, which is why I have backed it. Marj.

Bocri wrote 664 days ago

First Floor on Fire represents a genre that I would not normally read and certainly not by choice. It is undeniably confrontational and violent. It is earthy and much of the dialogue is 'robust' to say the least. It has an abrasive quality that is intimidating. All these are factors that make the MS so riveting and authentic providing a compulsive read for a modern YA audience. Backed. Robert Davidson. The Tuzla Run.

Philip Antony wrote 664 days ago

Honestly? Not for me. It's a personal thing - and it ain't my joy to read this ruff stuff.

Getting over that, there IS a powerful emotion in this writing. It is urging for a life and should be released.

Backed. Good luck.
Philip (Interview With An Angel)

zan wrote 665 days ago

First Floor on Fire
Michael Russell

Fantastic cover! Love the vibrant mix of closely associated colours and the abstract images. What they suggest to me I can't say here - except that it reflects appropriately what I read, visual matching the literary. Real art as is your literary piece here. Pitches firstly - people here may not like the fact that some of it reads like a review - I'm not bothered by it, but my own first pitch read like a review and, well, I changed it several times after complaints that it read like a review. So, you may want to look at this, or not. This is a clever, necessary piece because a lot of it is founded in harsh reality which many of us don't want to be true - but, these sorts of curcumstances exist and in some places, are overwhelming. I think this will have broader appeal if it is tagged as universal. The fact that is it's a story about a teenaged girl doesn't make it by that fact alone, YA. This is engaging - eye-opening, and I might need some strong liquor and possible therapy to read all of this in one go. "Nobody got no business getting in my face" - there's a lot of anger from the start. You've created a mirror here - an effective one where social, familial, perhaps even spiritual and political, truths reflect themselves. This is the kind of writing that responsible and good authors engage in - they record and reflect society. I feel strongly that this is an excellent piece which will go places. I have no editorial advise but you will encounter many "experts" here who will help with this aspect of your writing. This is going on my page so it can be recommended to others. Impressive, substantial and necessary writing.
Best,
Zan

klg wrote 665 days ago

Great premise, wonderfully realised. Gritty vernacular, realistic characterisation. I would have loved it as a teenager.

Famlavan wrote 673 days ago

First Floor Fire

Very impressive opening, gritty, hard short sharp dialogue, very intense.
The narrative grounds the piece and helps drive the storyline along. This is strong urban literature at it’s very best with brilliant characterisation!

Burgio wrote 676 days ago

There's good writing here. Like the way your dialogue is always short and to the point. A lot of young adults will be able to readily relate to Nevaya as she struggles with all these problems at school. Should it be a young adult or adult book? I think the language cancels it out as young adult (12 fucks in the first chapter is about 12 too many) to rate as young adult. For adults, tho, it's a good read. I'm adding this to my shelf. Burgio (Grain of Salt)

missyfleming_22 wrote 680 days ago

Not sure how I missed this one, or if I did back it and forgot. But this is very well written and exciting. You've got a great narrative voice and it grabs the reader right away. Good luck with this, I think it's going to do well here or in the real world!

Missy
Mark of Eternity

S Richard Betterton wrote 686 days ago

Great voice, and some great lines - my fave in ch 1: slashed open my calm. Backed.
Cheers, and thanks for the shelf.
Simon

lionel25 wrote 689 days ago

Michael, your first chapter is a smooth read. Good true-to-life narrative and dialogue. Nothing to nitpick in that section.

Happy to back your work.

Joffrey (The Silver Spoon Effect)

Sheila Belshaw wrote 693 days ago

FIRST FLOOR ON FIRE:

Michael,

Wow! Can you write!

From line one, I was transported into another world. The immediacy of your prose, the authentic dialogue, the starkness of your observations that ring with truth and anger - this is so impressive. I can see it on a film already, so better you start writing the film script pronto.

Yesterday's over-eighteens are today's fifteens and sixteens, so yes, I think this can be for them too. They see everything they want to see on the internet anyway. Why deprive them of such a brilliant book?

Backed with admiration,
Sheila (Pinpoint)

Hatts wrote 696 days ago

The number of comments below says it all really - The very first sentence tells us this is an angry and powerful work. The descrition of Chardaes death, an angry girl - what a good read.
backed with pleasure
Hatts

Raymond Nickford wrote 698 days ago

First Floor on Fire:

Michael,

The first chapter is gritty, raw but eminently realistic and the colloquial language register of the narrator's voice mirrors the edginess of his life and background.
The dialogue is natural and spontaneous and really carries the narrative, so you avoid cumbersome back story.
When Chardae meets his demise as 'nothing but a melted puddle of blood, skin and glass,' the realism reaches a climax but as the narrator reflects 'the whole world hates me..'I want to read on to see how far he is redeemable within the storyline as you've already set it out in your intriguing synopsis.
Backed.
Ray
(A Child from the Wishing Well)

DP Walker wrote 698 days ago

Hi Michael
I love it! It's a really original idea. I think if you market it as over 18, the 15-17 year olds would read it anyway, but maybe not vice versa?
Good luck with it
DP Walker
Five Dares

Cully wrote 698 days ago

This is good--I read Chapter 1. At first I thought I wasn't going to be able to finish it--it's difficult to pick up the rhythm with certain dialects, but you got it. I'll come back for more chapters soon.

Cully

Lorem Ipsum wrote 705 days ago

This is good. It's well written and she seems real to me (although we're pretty short of African American females round here) and, as others have said, her violence is very evident. I think it would probably stress me out to read much more but provoking a reaction is what a novel's all about, so that's fine. Backed,

James Wayland wrote 707 days ago

The aggression leaps off the page here. The emotional havoc this wreaks on both the players and the reader is potent stuff indeed. It is hard to deny prose so forceful, and you have wrapped your seething tale around an engrossing plot. Shelved.

-j

gerry01 wrote 708 days ago

Hi, I agree with the other comments about the anger. It comes through strongly. Good luck

Francesco wrote 710 days ago

Urban-Lit full of power and anger which I fully felt.
Backed!
A look at Sicilian Shadows would be greatly appreciated.
Frank.

DKTD1 wrote 711 days ago

Every morning I eat puppies on toast. :)
This is angry and real and real angry.

Well done.

Backed,
Dan-
Eunice Stubbins, among others...

lizjrnm wrote 711 days ago

This is superb. Not just because I have lived in Philly and love the city but the interesting thing is I thought it was written by a woman(I mean that in a good way) because it is so character driven from a female standpoint that it didn't seem possible your name could be Michael. Anyway - this has huge market potential. Urban literature is very in right now. Stick with it cause i believe you have something really great here! BACKED

You will definitely appreciate The Cheech Room - another of the young adult stories here that doesn't have dragons and vampires but rather a real life situational novel. Take a look when you have a chance and thanks for your wonderful story contribution here to this site.

paxie wrote 714 days ago

Michael

My boo died a year ago today. .....(I didn't know what this meant, I think this should be clearer......My boo, could be a person, an animal, or your mc's heart and soul)....

You have a very POWERFUL writing voice, but if I'm honest, at times I felt a bit overwhelmed and shouted at.....But I am a romantic comedy writer, so I suppose you'd want to be shouting at me......

That said, this is written to pace, with an even balance of dialogue versus narrative.....I like that you use dialogue to craft plot development, by that I mean I connected more with the characters by what they said as opposed to any information you provided in backdrop.....

You use the word 'bitches' 10 times in loaded chapter one......I dont have a problem with the word at all, I just think you could call the stupid bitches something else now and again....

Shelved of course,,,,,There is much to commend....

writerwithacause wrote 715 days ago

Michael,
I really like your premise behind your story. This is extremely well written and well thought out. Personally, I found the dialogue a bit over bearing I think you should tune it down a bit. Just my personal opinion. I am not from Philadelphia but I am wondering do people actually talk like this? Backed. Lisa

Jared wrote 715 days ago

Michael, this is remarkably strong and effective writing. It's not light reading, that's for sure. You use words like a rapper on speed, spitting them out relentlessly. It's a tough life, portrayed by an uber-tough MC, ranting at the world. I appreciate a YA readership can handle tough themes, but when I reached chapter three, a great line here 'fire cutting my soul down past my marrow,' I thought you perhaps should reconsider the classification. If they want to read it, they'll read it, that's obvious, ut getting it to that stage may require a subtle approach. I'd pitch this as adult, and amend to classification from moderate to adult as well as it will remove any potential problems ahead.
Very strong writing, a fabulously enraged MC in Nevaya and cutting-edge dialogue. Backed, empatically.
Jared
Mummy's Boy.

William Holt wrote 715 days ago

This is scary right from the start. Angry people terrify me. They often seem to stop at nothing. Would have shelved for the MC alone even if the writing weren't excellent, which it is. Everyone had better beware of her!

Bill

MiniMePom wrote 719 days ago

Wonderful voice. The prose flows well. I admire the way you've caught the unsophisticated voice of the main character without making the narrative voice sound unintelligent. Quite a lot of skill involved in that! Backed.

Thomas J. Winton wrote 719 days ago

Michael, your opening line cuffs the reader by the back of the nick and jams their nose closer to the page. Good one! Your unusual, rat-a-tat staccato style never lets up. Through Nevaya you give us a deep look inside the head of an angry young girl. And you can understand why she is the way she is. Only nit I have (subjective of course) is that the fight thing goes on a bit too long. Other than that, I think you're onto something here. I think the YA crowd just might eat this up. On my shelf.
Thomas J Winton
"Beyond Nostalgia"

Fretjumper wrote 719 days ago

Very emotionally charged write, bakced

Barbara Silkstone wrote 719 days ago

A strong, moving story on a life lived under the most inhuman of conditions. Well written. Backed.

ellen911 wrote 720 days ago

The hardness of her life shows through instantly. Her voice is so real, I find it hard to love her in the start. But as I continued, I saw more glimpses of this beaten down girl and my heart opened.
Will want to read more to see her transformation.
Backed,
Ellen
(Thoughts of a Teenage Girl)

bonalibro wrote 720 days ago

Absolutely stunning. The use of the vernacular in this is spectacular. The characterization - vivid.

My backing and brief comment are an opening gambit. I value honest opinions of my work and want you to feel safe in giving me one. I'd be happy to read more of this. If you want more, just ask.

Tim Chambers
Moonbeam Highway: With Apologies to Miguel de Cervantes.

Andee Hughes wrote 720 days ago

Great writing. Felt as if I was really there.
Backed.
Andrea. Breach Of Faith.

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