Hello! I have written a 75,500 word historical fiction--with strong romantic elements--and I am looking to swap with someone. It takes place during the American Revolutionary War. I'll be happy to look at your historical fiction piece in any genre (most comfortable with YA, romance, or just regular).
I can look at your overall plot, character development, and big picture stuff. Also, little bit on grammar. I also have lots and lots of ideas that I can give about your story.
PM me if you are interested in swapping or email me at: [email protected]
Areas in history that I know alot about are:
The Tudors
Salem Witch Trials
Revolutionary War --American
The American Civil War
I need someone who:
1. Can help me with the overrall story and plot development
AND/OR
2. Knows about colonial history
AND/OR
3. is good with grammar.
Here is the opening scene of my work:
The hot and stifling air in Williamsburg threatened a storm. Abigail Randals nibbled on her lips as she looked around Raleigh’s Tavern. Beneath the dim, yellow light of the candles and the sound of the violin, she felt that the air was heavy with tension. Her own anxiety swelled within her, and she tried desperately to keep it contained.
Abigail wished the storm would break. The air seemed to close in on her, and she felt as though someone had yanked on her stays, making it difficult to breathe. She told herself it was just nerves, though the conversations she heard around her were anything but reassuring.
“Our own governor, Lord Dunmore has fled…”
“The Negroes might rise up against us…”
“…slave rebellion…”
“…they had to call out the militia...”
Abigail didn’t want to think about what would have happened if the slaves had rioted. The reports about the supposed slave uprising, coupled with the governor’s recent flight, made her nervous. In her mind, she kept picturing the capital on fire with people running for their lives. She had heard stories of how violent slave insurrections could be, with masters getting their throats slit in their own bed. The thought made Abigail shiver as she reflected on the fact that her father owned many slaves.
She drained her glass of rum and lime juice as she glanced around the ballroom. She was relieved to see her friend Gabriel Brown walking towards her.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked. His black hair was pulled back from his face in a queue, and his hazel eyes glittered in the dim light. When he smiled, Abigail felt some of her tension ease away.
“This room feels like a powder keg. I fear at any moment, one of the candles will fall over and we shall all be blown to pieces.”
“You put it so elegantly, Abby.”
“I am serious. Things in Williamsburg have gotten as bad as ever. It certainly doesn’t help we nearly had a riot a few days ago. I feared for a moment we would have a massacre like they did in Boston.”
Abigail’s stomach knotted when she remembered the roar of the mob when they had discovered the gunpowder had been taken from the magazine. She had distinctly heard someone shout out, “Get the governor! Let us treat him to a court of tar and feathers!” She winced and shook her head like she could shake the thought from her mind.
The long candles sputtered throughout the ballroom and produced a golden light. Women in shimmering silk and taffeta gowns laughed while men strutted around in their powdered wigs. The windows had all been flung open in hopes of producing a light breeze. From the streets below, Abigail heard a horse and carriage rattle past. In the ballroom, a harpsichord played above the gentle murmur and laughter of the guests.
“Lord Dunmore is lucky he got away with his life.”
“I don’t think it was about to get that bad, Abby.”
“What wasn’t that bad?” Abigail’s older brother, Thomas, demanded as he came up beside them. He was tall with his blond hair swept back and tied off with a ribbon to match his green coat.
“We were just discussing Lord Dunmore’s flight,” Gabriel said.
“He’s a fool, that man is,” Thomas spat. “I am ashamed to say my father supports him. He actually wants the House of Burgesses to meet him on the York River! Can you imagine?”
Abigail fiddled with the bow of her neckerchief which was draped over her shoulders. “Well, he is our governor.”
“He has dismissed the house twice before and taken away our gunpowder which is our only means of defense, and--”
“Let’s not talk about this anymore,” Abigail cut her brother off. “I am so sick of hearing about politics, ‘tis all anyone talks about these days.”
She glanced over at Gabriel. His brown eyes shined as he smiled at her. With an extravagant bow which made Abigail laugh, he asked, “Will you dance, Miss Randals?”
“I would be delighted.”
He offered her his arm and led her over to their set. The music began to play the fast pace reel and Abigail sank into a curtsy as he bowed.
“Did I tell you how lovely you look?”
“You are just saying that. I look like a fright I am sure.”
Clasping hands, the two skipped down the line of dancers who clapped their hands in time to the music. Abigail circled around Gabriel; her brown skirts whirling out behind her and her cheeks flushed. When the dance ended, she melted into another curtsy, her dress pooling around her in a puddle.
“That was good fun.”
“And you are always complaining about how you can’t dance,” Gabriel said.
“I do hate these parties, though. I would much rather be riding.” She took Gabriel’s arm and allowed him to escort her back over to where Thomas stood. She felt the eyes of the other guests bearing into her.
“That is Mr. Randals’s daughter,” she heard one woman whisper.
“Doesn’t he support the governor and the King?”
“Aye, he is the most ardent Tory in all of Williamsburg, I dare say.”
Abigail forced herself to smile and whispered to Gabriel, “I hate having to act polite and merry.”
He laughed. “Don’t we all, but we are all players in this game.”
“And the object of the game is to find a husband—or in your case a wife-- as soon as possible.”
Another song played and more couples lined up for a new dance.
“I fear I must leave you now, Abby. I have agreed to dance this one with Miss Randolph.”
“Oh,” Abigail said, raising her eyebrows.
“What?”
“Nothing; I just did not know the two of you were courting.”
Gabriel laughed. “Courting? Where did you get such a silly idea?”
Before she could respond, he walked off and joined Susannah Randolph. She was looking beautiful in a rather low cut lavender gown, her hair powdered and her cheeks rouged. She seemed to be born into her stays, while Abigail felt clumsy and awkward.
“I saw you dancing with Gabriel,” Mrs. Randals said as she came up beside her stepdaughter.
“Yes,” Abigail said as she retrieved her fan.
“I think he likes you.”
“That’s absurd! He is like a brother to me.”
“Well, I don’t think he views you as a sister.”
Abigail watched as Gabriel and Susannah circled around one another in the dance. She laughed at some joke, and Abigail didn’t know why, but she had to turn away.
I can look at your overall plot, character development, and big picture stuff. Also, little bit on grammar. I also have lots and lots of ideas that I can give about your story.
PM me if you are interested in swapping or email me at: [email protected]
Areas in history that I know alot about are:
The Tudors
Salem Witch Trials
Revolutionary War --American
The American Civil War
I need someone who:
1. Can help me with the overrall story and plot development
AND/OR
2. Knows about colonial history
AND/OR
3. is good with grammar.
Here is the opening scene of my work:
Chapter One
June, 1775
The hot and stifling air in Williamsburg threatened a storm. Abigail Randals nibbled on her lips as she looked around Raleigh’s Tavern. Beneath the dim, yellow light of the candles and the sound of the violin, she felt that the air was heavy with tension. Her own anxiety swelled within her, and she tried desperately to keep it contained.
Abigail wished the storm would break. The air seemed to close in on her, and she felt as though someone had yanked on her stays, making it difficult to breathe. She told herself it was just nerves, though the conversations she heard around her were anything but reassuring.
“Our own governor, Lord Dunmore has fled…”
“The Negroes might rise up against us…”
“…slave rebellion…”
“…they had to call out the militia...”
Abigail didn’t want to think about what would have happened if the slaves had rioted. The reports about the supposed slave uprising, coupled with the governor’s recent flight, made her nervous. In her mind, she kept picturing the capital on fire with people running for their lives. She had heard stories of how violent slave insurrections could be, with masters getting their throats slit in their own bed. The thought made Abigail shiver as she reflected on the fact that her father owned many slaves.
She drained her glass of rum and lime juice as she glanced around the ballroom. She was relieved to see her friend Gabriel Brown walking towards her.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked. His black hair was pulled back from his face in a queue, and his hazel eyes glittered in the dim light. When he smiled, Abigail felt some of her tension ease away.
“This room feels like a powder keg. I fear at any moment, one of the candles will fall over and we shall all be blown to pieces.”
“You put it so elegantly, Abby.”
“I am serious. Things in Williamsburg have gotten as bad as ever. It certainly doesn’t help we nearly had a riot a few days ago. I feared for a moment we would have a massacre like they did in Boston.”
Abigail’s stomach knotted when she remembered the roar of the mob when they had discovered the gunpowder had been taken from the magazine. She had distinctly heard someone shout out, “Get the governor! Let us treat him to a court of tar and feathers!” She winced and shook her head like she could shake the thought from her mind.
The long candles sputtered throughout the ballroom and produced a golden light. Women in shimmering silk and taffeta gowns laughed while men strutted around in their powdered wigs. The windows had all been flung open in hopes of producing a light breeze. From the streets below, Abigail heard a horse and carriage rattle past. In the ballroom, a harpsichord played above the gentle murmur and laughter of the guests.
“Lord Dunmore is lucky he got away with his life.”
“I don’t think it was about to get that bad, Abby.”
“What wasn’t that bad?” Abigail’s older brother, Thomas, demanded as he came up beside them. He was tall with his blond hair swept back and tied off with a ribbon to match his green coat.
“We were just discussing Lord Dunmore’s flight,” Gabriel said.
“He’s a fool, that man is,” Thomas spat. “I am ashamed to say my father supports him. He actually wants the House of Burgesses to meet him on the York River! Can you imagine?”
Abigail fiddled with the bow of her neckerchief which was draped over her shoulders. “Well, he is our governor.”
“He has dismissed the house twice before and taken away our gunpowder which is our only means of defense, and--”
“Let’s not talk about this anymore,” Abigail cut her brother off. “I am so sick of hearing about politics, ‘tis all anyone talks about these days.”
She glanced over at Gabriel. His brown eyes shined as he smiled at her. With an extravagant bow which made Abigail laugh, he asked, “Will you dance, Miss Randals?”
“I would be delighted.”
He offered her his arm and led her over to their set. The music began to play the fast pace reel and Abigail sank into a curtsy as he bowed.
“Did I tell you how lovely you look?”
“You are just saying that. I look like a fright I am sure.”
Clasping hands, the two skipped down the line of dancers who clapped their hands in time to the music. Abigail circled around Gabriel; her brown skirts whirling out behind her and her cheeks flushed. When the dance ended, she melted into another curtsy, her dress pooling around her in a puddle.
“That was good fun.”
“And you are always complaining about how you can’t dance,” Gabriel said.
“I do hate these parties, though. I would much rather be riding.” She took Gabriel’s arm and allowed him to escort her back over to where Thomas stood. She felt the eyes of the other guests bearing into her.
“That is Mr. Randals’s daughter,” she heard one woman whisper.
“Doesn’t he support the governor and the King?”
“Aye, he is the most ardent Tory in all of Williamsburg, I dare say.”
Abigail forced herself to smile and whispered to Gabriel, “I hate having to act polite and merry.”
He laughed. “Don’t we all, but we are all players in this game.”
“And the object of the game is to find a husband—or in your case a wife-- as soon as possible.”
Another song played and more couples lined up for a new dance.
“I fear I must leave you now, Abby. I have agreed to dance this one with Miss Randolph.”
“Oh,” Abigail said, raising her eyebrows.
“What?”
“Nothing; I just did not know the two of you were courting.”
Gabriel laughed. “Courting? Where did you get such a silly idea?”
Before she could respond, he walked off and joined Susannah Randolph. She was looking beautiful in a rather low cut lavender gown, her hair powdered and her cheeks rouged. She seemed to be born into her stays, while Abigail felt clumsy and awkward.
“I saw you dancing with Gabriel,” Mrs. Randals said as she came up beside her stepdaughter.
“Yes,” Abigail said as she retrieved her fan.
“I think he likes you.”
“That’s absurd! He is like a brother to me.”
“Well, I don’t think he views you as a sister.”
Abigail watched as Gabriel and Susannah circled around one another in the dance. She laughed at some joke, and Abigail didn’t know why, but she had to turn away.
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