Rewriting 'the moon asks a question': A Narrative Experiment

Excerpt taken from 'the moon asks a question' by dirgewithoutmusic.

1. Thought in Motion

The moon asked the sun, “What do you know of love?”

“It burns,” said the sun. “It brightens. It is something you make and then give away.”

"Don't listen to him," said the clouds. "This big ball of gas doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Yes, I do," said the sun. "Who but me makes the roses grow?"

“We do,” said the clouds. “Love nourishes, like the rain. We turn the hills green and fill the creeks so they will sing in their creekbeds.”

“Why do you ask?” said the sun.

“I think I might be in love,” said the moon. “I am trying to understand.”

So the moon went and looked at the deserts. They were dry and hot and empty. “See?” said the clouds. But the deserts were still beautiful.

And so the moon went and looked at the creeks in their beds, and they were cool and wet and full. And they were beautiful too.

“What do you think?” the moon asked the sky. “I want to know if I am in love.”

2. Subtle Shifts

The moon asked the sun, “What do you know of love?”

“It burns,” said the sun. “It brightens. It is something you make and then give away.” (1)

"Don't listen to him," said the clouds. "This big ball of gas doesn't know what he's talking about." (1, 2)

"Yes, I do," said the sun. "Who but me makes the roses grow?" (1, 2)

“We do,” said the clouds. “Love nourishes, like the rain. We turn the hills green and fill the creeks so they will sing in their creekbeds.” (1)

“Why do you ask?” said the sun. (4)

“I think I might be in love,” said the moon. “I am trying to understand.” (1)

So the moon went and looked at the deserts. They were dry and hot and empty. “See?” said the clouds. But the deserts were still beautiful. (4, 2)

And so the moon went and looked at the creeks in their beds, and they were cool and wet and full. And they were beautiful too. (2)

“What do you think?” the moon asked the sky. “I want to know if I am in love.” (3)

3. The Space Between

The author uses a rhythmic, biblical cadence that creates a fable-like feel. This is why the repeated use of "said" doesn't seem particularly jarring here. Typically, the word is somewhat redundant since it doesn't actually convey how something was said—quotation marks do the heavy lifting in this pairing.

As a more refined tone has been established, the phrase "big ball of gas," though playful, lacks the same fine-tuning. Similarly, words like "grow" and "beautiful" form clear silhouettes but lack vivid expression. The aim is to make the text more alive, bristling on the page.

Sensory connections between words achieve this effect quite well. For example, how could the link between "dry and hot and empty," "deserts," and beauty be strengthened? By extension, how could beauty embody the "cool and wet and full" nature of the "creeks"?

A certain haziness sets in when a question mark is followed by "said," especially since "asked" was previously used in its place. This growing confusion converges in the final line of the excerpt, where it's not entirely clear that the moon's thoughts are in conversation with themselves.

Ultimately, the main issue with the flow and structure of the text is the abruptness of its many transitions. It forces the reader to halt and retrace their steps to make sure they're still on the right path. But a few minor tweaks can make the passage seamless again.

4. Words in Motion

The moon asked the sun, “What do you know of love?”

“It burns,” said the sun. “It brightens. It is something you make and then give away.”

“Don’t listen to him,” said the clouds, drifting by. “This gasball doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Yes, I do,” said the sun. “Who but me makes the roses bloom?”

“We do,” said the clouds. “Love nourishes, like the rain. We turn the hills green and fill the creeks so they will sing in their creekbeds.”

The sun eyed the moon. “Why do you ask?”

“I think I might be in love,” replied the moon. “I am trying to understand.”

So the moon went and looked at the deserts. They were dry and hot and empty. “See?” asked the clouds. But the deserts still stung with their beauty.

And so the moon went and looked at the creeks in their beds, and they were cool and wet and full. And they were drenched in beauty too.

“What do you think?” the moon whispered to the sky. “I want to know if I am in love.”

5. New Dimensions

The moon asked the sun, “What do you know of love?”

“It burns,” said the sun. “It brightens. It is something you make and then give away.”

“Don’t listen to him,” breathed the clouds, drifting by. “This gasball doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Yes, I do. Who but me makes the roses bloom?”

“We do.” The clouds thickened. “Love nourishes, like the rain. We turn the hills green and fill the creeks so they will sing in their creekbeds.”

The sun eyed the moon. “Why do you ask?”

“I think I might be in love.” The moon's words lingered between them. “I am trying to understand.”

So the moon went and looked at the deserts. They were dry and hot and empty. “See?” sighed the clouds. But the deserts still stung with their beauty.

And so the moon went and looked at the creeks in their beds, and they were cool and wet and full. And they were drenched in beauty too.

“What do you think?” the moon whispered to the sky. “Does love scorch or swell?”