Learn Writing with Uncle Jim, Volume 1

Status
Not open for further replies.

detante

Re: grisham

Tell you what, HConn -- how about post two pages from either a) a published work, or b) an unpublished manuscript, without telling anyone which it is, right here, and see what we have to say?

I'm not HConn, but will this do?

-----------------------​

He shouldn’t have taken the shortcut.

Bahzell Bahnakson realized that the instant he heard the sounds drifting down the inky-dark cross corridor. He’d had to keep to the back ways used only by the palace servants—and far more numerous slaves—if he wanted to visit Brandark without the Guard’s knowledge, for he was too visible to come and go openly without being seen. But he shouldn’t have risked the shortcut just to avoid the more treacherous passages of the old keep.

He stood in an ill-lit hall heavy with the stink of its sparse torches (the expensive oil lamps were saved for Churnazh and his “courtiers”), and his mobile, foxlike ears strained at the faint noises. Then they flattened in recognition, and he cursed. Such sounds were none of his business, he told himself, and keeping clear of trouble was. Besides, they were far from the first screams he’d heard in Navahk . . . and there’d been nothing a prince of rival Hurgrum could do about the others, either.

He squeezed his dagger hilt, and his jaw clenched with the anger he dared not show his “hosts.” Bahzell had never considered himself squeamish, even for a hradani, but that was before his father sent him here as an envoy. As a hostage, really, Bahzell admitted grimly. Prince Bahnak’s army had crushed Navahk and its allies, yet Hurgrum was only a single city-state. She lacked the manpower to occupy her enemies’ territories, though many a hradani chieftain would have let his own realm go to ruin by trying to add the others to it.

But Bahnak was no ordinary chieftain. He knew there could be no lasting peace while Churnazh lived, yet he was wise enough to know what would happen if he dispersed his strength in piecemeal garrisons, each too weak to stand alone. He could defeat Navahk and its allies in battle; to conquer them he needed time to bind the allies his present victories had attracted to him, and he’d bought that time by tying Churnazh and his cronies up in a tangle of treaty promises, mutual defense clauses, and contingencies a Purple Lord would have been hard put to unra-vel. Half a dozen mutually suspicious hradani warlords found the task all but impossible, and to make certain they kept trying rather than resorting to more direct (and traditional) means of resolution, Bahnak had insisted on an exchange of hostages. It was simply Bahzell’s ill fortune that Navahk, as the most powerful of Hurgrum’s opponents, was entitled to a hostage from Hurgrum’s royal family.

Bahzell understood, but he wished, just this once, that he could have avoided the consequences of being Bahnak’s son. Bad enough that he was a Horse Stealer, towering head and shoulders above the tallest of the Bloody Sword tribes and instantly identifiable as an outsider. Worse that Hurgrum’s crushing victories had humiliated Navahk, which made him an instantly hated outsider. Yet both of those things were only to be expected, and Bahzell could have lived with them, if only Navahk weren’t ruled by Prince Churnazh, who not only hated Prince Bahnak (and his son), but despised them as degenerate, over-civilized weaklings, as well. His cronies and hangers-on aped their prince’s attitude and, predictably, each vied with the other to prove his contempt was deeper than any of his fellows’.

So far, Bahzell’s hostage status had kept daggers out of his back and his own sword sheathed, but no hradani was truly suited to the role of diplomat, and Bahzell had come to suspect he was even less suited than most. It might have been different somewhere else, but holding himself in check when Bloody Swords tossed out insults that would have cost a fellow Horse Stealer blood had worn his temper thin. He wondered, sometimes, if Churnazh secretly wanted him to lose control, wanted to drive Bahzell into succumbing to the Rage in order to free himself from the humiliating treaties? Or was it possible Churnazh truly believed his sneer that the Rage had gone out of Hurgrum, leaving her warriors gutless as water? It was hard to be sure of anything where the Navahkan was concerned, but two things were certain as death. He hated and despised Prince Bahnak, and his contempt for the changes Bahnak had wrought in Hurgrum was boundless.

-----------------------​

Thoughts?
 

detante

Re: Catching Up Part II

Listen to the wording and the rhythm. This sentence was written the way the POV character would say it if they were telling you the tale over drinks...

"as long as my flow is adequate, i don't need to dot my I's and cross my T's".

Perhaps I should have made it more obvious that a first person POV does and should play by different rules. The narrative must be told in the voice of the POV character, poor grammar and all.
 

Crusader

Re: Catching Up Part II

@detante:

i'm starting to think we're speaking at cross-purposes. My comment doesn't reallly address grammar or style of narration, since i would actually agree with you that the first-person narrator's "inner voice" would determine those things. i'm addressing plot problems caused by writing the narrator's viewpoint in such a way that the reader's suspension of disbelief is hampered.

To go back to your example: let's say you, detante, were the lawyer, i'm your drinking companion, and you're relating the tale. You would literally be speaking to me in dialogue, not first-person narration, so there would be a much different flow of the wording to begin with.

But most importantly, you would be tailoring the story to me, i.e. taking into account how much i know about the setting and such. Think about it: if i've never seen your office, how would i know the layout of your elevator access? Thus, you'd likely start by saying something like...

"Yeah, so i got out of my car in the parking garage, wasn't looking forward to another long day, didn't get enough sleep last night... in fact, i was almost zoning out while waiting for the elevator. So i get on, and i was like so out of it, i didn't even SEE the weirdo--he must have zipped in behind me during the second i turned around. But man, i sure smelled him after a minute or two."

My gripe is simply that the first two pages of the novel are in a bit of a hurry to get going, so they omit certain details of how and why and where. It works the first time through, but the second read makes me say "hey, wait a minute, how the heck did the bum get in there? Was it a parking garage? Where was the security?"

And i speak from experience; i've worked in and near corporate buildings in my area that had a zero percent chance of any vagrant curling up in the foyer, plus a low chance of intruders overall, and yet the security was very strict anyway: a guard sitting at a desk with a sign-in sheet, backed by cameras over the lobby, all placed between the front doors and the elevators.

So, how could i reasonably believe that a building with a history of vagrant problems, plus a security force on-hand to deal with them, would let them still get to the elevators so easily? To make me believe, i need details: say, the setting for the elevator is a low-rent parking garage with a landlord who won't spring for security. Then it fits together and i have no complaints.

And of course everything i've said is based only on the first pages. If later on the novel throws me my details, i suppose i could let the author off the hook. i just don't want to be treated as if apparent loopholes are perfectly fine as long as the story is entertaining, 'cos to me... they aren't.
 

Crusader

Re: the story segment, critiqued

i've restricted myself to the first paragraphs.

* * *

He shouldn’t have taken the shortcut.

Bahzell Bahnakson realized that the instant he heard the sounds drifting down the inky-dark cross corridor.


Bahzell Bahnakson. i can't visualize what on earth a person with this name would resemble. To see what i mean, try this...

"Jose Gutierrez realized that the instant..."
-Hispanic person, right?

Or:
"Sergei Monya realized that the instant..."
-Russian person, right?

Caricatures, sure, but at least it's something. Whereas 'Bahzell' just draws a blank, so i can't picture who is standing in the corridor.

However, there's a saving grace; the area is dark, right? So rearrange the order of description; describe the corridor as dark, first, and then describe 'Bahzell' as a dark shape. That way, the reader isn't distracted by trying to place a face to the name.


He’d had to keep to the back ways used only by the palace servants-and far more numerous slaves-if he wanted to visit Brandark without the Guard’s knowledge, for he was too visible to come and go openly without being seen.

"He'd had"? That alone did not work for me (one peeve is had had constructions, they just look ridiculous), and the rest of the sentence felt poorly structured.

Try: "The trip through these back corridors--used mainly by the palace's servants and numerous slaves--had been risky in the first place, but utterly necessary for a well-known person as himself to visit Brandark without the Guard's knowledge."


But he shouldn’t have risked the shortcut just to avoid the more treacherous passages of the old keep.

Adequate, but i would rewrite it.


He stood in an ill-lit hall heavy with the stink of its sparse torches (the expensive oil lamps were saved for Churnazh and his “courtiers”), and his mobile, foxlike ears strained at the faint noises.

In general, i avoid putting parentheses anywhere near a novel. The rationale is that parentheses are perhaps best used in non-fiction or straight communication, to convey additional information as an interruption or interjection to the current sentence or paragraph or thought. In a novel, however, the format feels intrusive to me, as if the narrator is tapping my shoulder to hand me a note. Details really read better to me if they are simply noted in the rhythm of description or dialogue.

Now, on the surface, i can't imagine why anyone needs to know about oil lamps versus torches. However, there's fertile ground here; maybe oil lamps could factor in as a prop (some scene with improvised Molotov cocktail bombs made from the lamps?) and so i could keep them for that reason. Or, they might reflect on the character 'Churnazh' in some way later, so i could keep them for that reason. Either way, i would make sure there IS a reason, otherwise the window dressing is meaningless.

Moving along: As far as "mobile, foxlike ears"... i feel as if i've been thrown a curveball. Remember, the first sentences didn't set up what a 'Bazhell Bahnakson' looks like; all we got was a shape in a dark corridor. So the appearance of fox ears makes me suddenly back up; is the character a six foot tall fox? Is the character a fox head on a human body? Is the author just drawing a metaphor that shouldn't be taken literally?

Curveball=bad, for me. So i would have straighted that out at the exact same time i described his dark shape.


Then they flattened in recognition, and he cursed. Such sounds were none of his business, he told himself, and keeping clear of trouble was. Besides, they were far from the first screams he’d heard in Navahk . . . and there’d been nothing a prince of rival Hurgrum could do about the others, either.

Adequate, but i would rewrite it.

* * *

He shouldn’t have taken the shortcut.

The sounds drifting from further down the darkened cross corridor were the tipoff to Bahzell Bahnakson, causing his mobile, foxlike ears to strain at the faint noises. The trip through these back corridors--used mainly by the palace's servants and numerous slaves--had been risky in the first place, yet utterly necessary for a well-known person like himself to visit Brandark without the Guard's knowledge. But now, the sounds reminded him that he had only increased the risk by taking a shortcut, even despite the trouble saved by avoiding the old keep's more treacherous passages.

Shortly, his cautious steps led to a dim hall, its stale air bearing the stink of a few weak torches. The lack of light made him smirk for a moment, he knew the brighter but more expensive oil lamps were always saved for Churnazh and his “courtiers”. Then his ears interrupted, flattening in recognition of what the background noises actually represented; he cursed, as such sounds were none of his business. Keeping clear of trouble was the focus here. Besides, they were far from the first screams he’d heard since entering the province of Navahk... and there was nothing that just one skulking prince of Hurgrum could have done about the others, either.
 

detante

Re: Catching Up Part II

i'm starting to think we're speaking at cross-purposes. My comment doesn't reallly address grammar or style of narration, since i would actually agree with you that the first-person narrator's "inner voice" would determine those things.

Then I am confused by your "cross my I's and dot my T's" comment. But as you seem to agree with me after all, it is not important.

And of course everything i've said is based only on the first pages. If later on the novel throws me my details, i suppose i could let the author off the hook.

This is a prime example of why you should never ask someone to critique your work a chapter (or in this case a page) at a time. The feedback will often reflect the reader's disappointed that their curiosity has not been satisfied.

I humbly submit that what you see as plot holes could in fact be intended to arose the reader's curiosity. "How did the bum get that far into the building? And with a gun, no less! I guess I'll have to turn the page to find out."

If you had the book in hand, would you turn the page to find out?
 

Kate Nepveu

detante's post of two un-id'ed pages

This reader's impressions:

Other-world fantasy, with different humanoid races. Political manuverings. A lot of names and backstory to take in. It feels forced, getting all that backstory in the first two pages as our POV character stops and listens to screams.

Taking it piece by piece:

He shouldn’t have taken the shortcut.
Punchy, okay. Something bad is about to happen.
Bahzell Bahnakson realized that the instant he heard the sounds drifting down the inky-dark cross corridor.
Name sounds either foreign or made-up. Third-person retrospective.
He’d had to keep to the back ways used only by the palace servants—and far more numerous slaves—if he wanted to visit Brandark without the Guard’s knowledge, for he was too visible to come and go openly without being seen. But he shouldn’t have risked the shortcut just to avoid the more treacherous passages of the old keep.
Palace, so either a historical or a fantasy. The palace is run by the Bad Guys. It may also be dangerous in its own right--physically treacherous, as in decaying or trapped?
He stood in an ill-lit hall heavy with the stink of its sparse torches (the expensive oil lamps were saved for Churnazh and his “courtiers”),
Tech level is medieval-oid. Churnazh is the owner? Definitely a Bad Guy (only Bad Guys get 'courtiers' in scare quotes). Filtered third, not camera third.
and his mobile, foxlike ears strained at the faint noises. Then they flattened in recognition,
Ah, fantasy, then, because here we have a non-human.
and he cursed. Such sounds were none of his business, he told himself, and keeping clear of trouble was. Besides, they were far from the first screams he’d heard in Navahk . . .
Yup, they're really the Bad Guys. Really. Bad.
and there’d been nothing a prince of rival Hurgrum could do about the others, either.
Okay, Navahk is the place we are. Our POV character is a Prince from a different land, who is not in a good position here. (We're getting a lot of harsh consonant names, which remind me vaguely of Eastern Europe. I'm rotten at names, though, so will just tuck this away for future resonances.)
He squeezed his dagger hilt,
Further confirmation of tech level. Our guy goes about armed, even though he feels impotent.
and his jaw clenched with the anger he dared not show his “hosts.”
More impotence.
Bahzell had never considered himself squeamish, even for a hradani,
Presumably "hradani" is his race. Bad Guys are of a different race?
but that was before his father sent him here as an envoy. As a hostage, really, Bahzell admitted grimly.
Look, exposition coming up:
Prince Bahnak’s army had crushed Navahk and its allies, yet Hurgrum was only a single city-state. She lacked the manpower to occupy her enemies’ territories, though many a hradani chieftain would have let his own realm go to ruin by trying to add the others to it.
There it is! I guess Prince Bahnak is our guy's father; I had a hard time with that at first, because it was separated from the mention of his father by a sentence. And our guy's dad is smart and wise and stuff. They're Good Guys.
But Bahnak was no ordinary chieftain.
Yup, Good Guys.
He knew there could be no lasting peace while Churnazh lived, yet he was wise enough to know what would happen if he dispersed his strength in piecemeal garrisons, each too weak to stand alone.
Yup, Good Guys. And Churnazh, yup, Bad guy.
He could defeat Navahk and its allies in battle; to conquer them he needed time to bind the allies his present victories had attracted to him, and he’d bought that time by tying Churnazh and his cronies up in a tangle of treaty promises, mutual defense clauses, and contingencies a Purple Lord would have been hard put to unra-vel.
Long sentence. Purple Lord must be some kind of lawyer or priest equivalent. So, the Good Guys are good at political/diplomatic manuverings as well as battle. Things are at a precarious peace, to be war again as soon as the Good Guys can manage it.
Half a dozen mutually suspicious hradani warlords found the task all but impossible,
Apparently Bad Guys are of the same race? Treaties were to bind Churnazh and cronies, hradani warlords couldn't unravel, Churnazh and cronies must = hrandani warlords.
and to make certain they kept trying rather than resorting to more direct (and traditional) means of resolution, Bahnak had insisted on an exchange of hostages. It was simply Bahzell’s ill fortune that Navahk, as the most powerful of Hurgrum’s opponents, was entitled to a hostage from Hurgrum’s royal family.
And we're back to our POV character and his hostage status.
Bahzell understood, but he wished, just this once, that he could have avoided the consequences of being Bahnak’s son.
Ah, it's hard to be a royal son, innit?
Bad enough that he was a Horse Stealer, towering head and shoulders above the tallest of the Bloody Sword tribes and instantly identifiable as an outsider.
On first read, my eyes started glazing over about here from the excessive infodumping. I'm not going to bother going through the rest, except to note that everyone apparently is subject to the Rage which makes them like beserkers.

Oh, and at the end, something bad still hasn't happened to our guy.
 

Crusader

Re: Catching Up Part II

@detante
Then I am confused by your "cross my I's and dot my T's" comment.

Oops. Now i understand. Perhaps if i'd said, "checked every nook and cranny for mistakes"? 'Cos that's what i meant. Sorry for the confusion.


This is a prime example of why you should never ask someone to critique your work a chapter (or in this case a page) at a time. The feedback will often reflect the reader's disappointed that their curiosity has not been satisfied.

i agree, provisionally... if the author is steadily generating pages and the reader isn't impatient, then i can't see why it wouldn't work. Otherwise, yes, i agree... this method of examining openings to a novel does potentially raise questions about plot elements or timing that just weren't meant to be answered in the first pages.


I humbly submit that what you see as plot holes could in fact be intended to arose the reader's curiosity. "How did the bum get that far into the building? And with a gun, no less! I guess I'll have to turn the page to find out."

Very reasonable idea, in general. i suppose my argument here is that in the specific context of analyzing the first two pages, the attempt just did not work for me; the hook feels like an error, for very specific reasons that i've droned about already.


If you had the book in hand, would you turn the page to find out?

Certainly. But the problem is that my mood has shifted from "neat story, i want to see where it leads" to "i'm fact-checking this bozo to see if he's pulling a fast one."
 

detante

Re: Catching Up Part II

If you had the book in hand, would you turn the page to find out?

Certainly. But the problem is that my mood has shifted from "neat story, i want to see where it leads" to "i'm fact-checking this bozo to see if he's pulling a fast one."

LOL, point well taken.
 

Crusader

Re: Catching Up Part II

Other-world fantasy, with different humanoid races. Political manuverings. A lot of names and backstory to take in. It feels forced, getting all that backstory in the first two pages as our POV character stops and listens to screams.

Sounds spot-on, to me. i concur that it feels.. unrealistic, to have a character think that much about "plot points" in general. Nevermind that we've already been told about the supposedly high risk of the current journey. i mean, just how long could the poor devil stand there, if he's really concerned with being seen?

And, i sense the work is unpublished. If so, and if the author is reading our comments, i hope any resultant sting isn't too painful. =(
 

detante

Re: detante's post of two un-id'ed pages

I must confess that I omitted a short prologue because I know most people do not read them. This is how the manuscript begins:

hradani (hrä-dä-ne) n. (1) One of the original Five Races of Man, noted for foxlike ears, great stature and physical strength, and violence of temperament. (2) A barbarian or berserker. (3) Scum, brigand. adj. (1) Of or pertaining to the hradani race. (2) Dangerous, bloodthirsty or cruel. (3) Treacherous, not to be trusted. (4) Incapable of civilized conduct. [Old Kontovaran: from hra, calm + danahi, fox.]

Rage, the (rag) n. Hradani term for the uncontrollable berserk bloodlust afflicting their people. Held by some scholars to be the result of black sorcery dating from the Fall of Kontovar (q.v.).

Strictures of Ottovar (strik-cherz uv äh-to-vär) n. Ancient code of white wizardry enforced by Council of Ottovar in pre-Fall Kontovar. The Strictures are said to have prohibited blood magic or the use of sorcery against non-wizards, and violation of its provisions was a capital offense. It is said that the wild wizard (q.v.) Wencit of Rum, last Lord of the Council of Ottovar prior to the Fall, still lives and attempts to enforce them with the aid of the Order of Semkirk.


New Manhome Encyclopedic
Dictionary of Norfressan Languages,

Royal and Imperial Press:
King Kormak College, Manhome.
 

Euan Harvey

Re: Catching Up Part II

And, i sense the work is unpublished.
;)

Oath of Swords -- actually not a bad book, but his HH books are far better.

Edited to add: IMHO, people's reactions to the opening just go to show the importance of considering a book as a whole, and not attempting to write in a genre you're unfamiliar with.
 

maestrowork

Re: Catching Up Part II

Okay, I'll put on my reader's hat and play:


He shouldn’t have taken the shortcut.

Good opening, setting up suspense: We know something bad is going to happen. Who is "he"? I guess we'll find out.


Bahzell Bahnakson realized that the instant he heard the sounds drifting down the inky-dark cross corridor.

Now we know who "he" is, but the name says he's foreign? It's not easy to pronounce the name so that takes me away from the story a bit. Also, I tend to hate alliterated names. We have some sort of setting, something probably gothic, medieval? We don't know what kind of sounds though... could be more specific here.


He’d had to keep to the back ways used only by the palace servants—and far more numerous slaves—if he wanted to visit Brandark without the Guard’s knowledge, for he was too visible to come and go openly without being seen.

We have more of the settings... it's definitely not modern. A bit of characterization -- he's a bit secretive. New question, who is Brandark?

But he shouldn’t have risked the shortcut just to avoid the more treacherous passages of the old keep.

Restate the mistake. But so far, we still don't know what is happening. We still don't know what sounds and why he feels it's a mistake.

He stood in an ill-lit hall heavy with the stink of its sparse torches (the expensive oil lamps were saved for Churnazh and his “courtiers”), and his mobile, foxlike ears strained at the faint noises.

We have a better sense of the place -- dark corridors with torches -- although the parenthesized info is distracting and sounds like info dump. I don't even know who these people are, let alone care about who Churnazh and his courtiers are... Okay, now we know "he" is not human.


Then they flattened in recognition, and he cursed.

Not sure what "they" is... have to read it again to realize it's the flames.

Such sounds were none of his business, he told himself, and keeping clear of trouble was.

Again, I have no idea what sounds they are. It's getting a little annoying. More characterization: He's curious, but he knows he shouldn't be. But he's drawn to it...


Besides, they were far from the first screams he’d heard in Navahk . . . and there’d been nothing a prince of rival Hurgrum could do about the others, either.

I'm a lost with this sentence. What prince of rival Hurgrum? What others? He's been to Navahk and heard some bad things, screams, etc. Is he the prince of Hurgrum? Whose rival? Who's POV is this?


He squeezed his dagger hilt, and his jaw clenched with the anger he dared not show his “hosts.”

What anger? Why is he angry now? I don't know anything about anger until now. And his hosts? Are they the Brandarks? Why is he here?

Bahzell had never considered himself squeamish, even for a hradani, but that was before his father sent him here as an envoy.

Ok, so we get a little more background here.


As a hostage, really, Bahzell admitted grimly.
So he's here against his will, perhaps?


Prince Bahnak’s army had crushed Navahk and its allies, yet Hurgrum was only a single city-state. She lacked the manpower to occupy her enemies’ territories, though many a hradani chieftain would have let his own realm go to ruin by trying to add the others to it.

Backstory. I find it awkward to sink into backstory at this point. Takes me right out of the moment. I want to know what is going on, and not having a history lesson about some alien politics...


But Bahnak was no ordinary chieftain. He knew there could be no lasting peace while Churnazh lived, yet he was wise enough to know what would happen if he dispersed his strength in piecemeal garrisons, each too weak to stand alone.

Suddenly we're switched to Bahnak. We were with Bahzell before. Also, all these "B" names are confusing as hell at this point. Bahzell, Bahnak, Branark... what? More back story. Yawn.... and who is Churnazh again?


He could defeat Navahk and its allies in battle; to conquer them he needed time to bind the allies his present victories had attracted to him, and he’d bought that time by tying Churnazh and his cronies up in a tangle of treaty promises, mutual defense clauses, and contingencies a Purple Lord would have been hard put to unra-vel. Half a dozen mutually suspicious hradani warlords found the task all but impossible, and to make certain they kept trying rather than resorting to more direct (and traditional) means of resolution, Bahnak had insisted on an exchange of hostages. It was simply Bahzell’s ill fortune that Navahk, as the most powerful of Hurgrum’s opponents, was entitled to a hostage from Hurgrum’s royal family.

To be honest, I find the whole paragraph boring, info dumping. It gives me information why Bahzell is here and his relations to Hurgrum. The whole thing is so long... all I need to know, really, is that Bahzell's is a Hurgrum royal and he's now a hostage. We got to know about who Churnazh is.



Bahzell understood, but he wished, just this once, that he could have avoided the consequences of being Bahnak’s son.

Ugh. Now we know he's Bahnak's son. Why not eariler? Why keep it from me. It's not suspense. It's just coy and annoying at this point.


Bad enough that he was a Horse Stealer, towering head and shoulders above the tallest of the Bloody Sword tribes and instantly identifiable as an outsider.

More descriptions. But no characterization: we still don't know much about "Bahzell the person."



Worse that Hurgrum’s crushing victories had humiliated Navahk, which made him an instantly hated outsider. Yet both of those things were only to be expected, and Bahzell could have lived with them, if only Navahk weren’t ruled by Prince Churnazh, who not only hated Prince Bahnak (and his son), but despised them as degenerate, over-civilized weaklings, as well. His cronies and hangers-on aped their prince’s attitude and, predictably, each vied with the other to prove his contempt was deeper than any of his fellows’.

More info dumping. And honestly, at this point, I'm completely out of the moment. Where was he again? Whose point of view is this? It seems like we're further and further away from Bahzell's POV...



So far, Bahzell’s hostage status had kept daggers out of his back and his own sword sheathed, but no hradani was truly suited to the role of diplomat, and Bahzell had come to suspect he was even less suited than most.

So is he a hostage or a diplomat? I'm not sure. But it seems like he's safe so far, and he has use of weapons... so he's not really a prisoner.


It might have been different somewhere else, but holding himself in check when Bloody Swords tossed out insults that would have cost a fellow Horse Stealer blood had worn his temper thin.

More stuff.


He wondered, sometimes, if Churnazh secretly wanted him to lose control, wanted to drive Bahzell into succumbing to the Rage in order to free himself from the humiliating treaties?

What is the Rage? The order of "He" and "Bahzell" in the same sentence confuses me, as if "he" is a separate person than "Bahzell" and prompts me to ask: who is speaking here?


Or was it possible Churnazh truly believed his sneer that the Rage had gone out of Hurgrum, leaving her warriors gutless as water?

Is "gutless" figurative or literal? So far, I'm trying to wrap my head around all the politics of alien races I don't know about, or rather, not really care at this point. There is nothing, at this point, for me to care about any of these.


It was hard to be sure of anything where the Navahkan was concerned, but two things were certain as death. He hated and despised Prince Bahnak, and his contempt for the changes Bahnak had wrought in Hurgrum was boundless.

More exposition. At least we know (being told, however) that Bahzell despises his father. But boy, I feel like I've just been spoon fed decades of history and politics in two pages...


At the point, I'm not sure if I want to go on reading. Something bad "promised" at the begining still hasn't happened. I think it's the time I put down the book and do something else.
 

Irysangel

Re: detante's post of two un-id'ed pages

Ugh. I would have tossed the book immediately after reading all the place and character names.

Blech.
 

reph

Re: Catching Up Part II

Then they flattened in recognition, and he cursed.

Not sure what "they" is... have to read it again to realize it's the flames.


I thought it was the ears. Plausibility check: I don't know about foxes' ears, but cats' ears don't flatten when alertness diminishes; they relax. Flattened ears on a cat mean enjoyment or readiness to fight.

This thing is published?
 

Crusader

...

That was a published work? [jaw drop] It read like a fan fiction.

Edit: Ah, my thunder was stolen. [shakes a fist at reph] But really, there's hardly any other way to react.
 

Crusader

Re: New blood...

i would like to see what critiques come of this 'first page'. Should be interesting; is it a page-turner? Is it well-crafted? (All text, phrasing, and punctuation are verbatim.)

* * *

I had always been fascinated by the big house of Framling. Perhaps it had begun when I was two years old and Fabian Framling had kidnapped me and kept me there for two weeks. It was a house full of shadows and mystery, I discovered, when I went in search of the peacock-feather fan. In the long corridors, in the gallery, in the silent rooms, the past seemed to be leering at one from all corners, insidiously imposing itself on the present and almost--though never quite--obliterating it.

For as long as I could remember Lady Harriet Framling had reigned supreme over our village. Farm labourers standing respectfully at the side of the road while the carriage, emblazoned with the majestic Framling arms, drove past, touched their forelocks and the women bobbed their deferential curtsies. She was spoken of in hushed whispers as though those who mentioned her feared they might be taking her name in vain; in my youthful mind she ranked with the Queen and was second only to God. It was small wonder that when her son, Fabian, commanded me to be his slave, I--being only six years old at that time--made no protest. It seemed only natural that we humble folk should serve the Big House in any way that was demanded of us.

The Big House--known to the community as "The House" as though those dwellings which the rest of us occupied were something...
 

maestrowork

Re: Catching Up Part II

How about this one... this is a prologue, not a first chapter.


Sam and I are sitting on a mostly deserted beach on Lake Michigan a little north of the Drake Hotel in Chicago. The Drake is filled with treasured memories for both of us, and we had dinner at our favorite table there earlier. I need to be with Sam tonight, because it’s one year since, well, everything happened that shouldn’t have happened -- it’s one year since Danny died.

“This is the spot where I met Danny, Sam. In May, six years ago,” I say.

Sam is a good listener who holds eye contact beautifully and is almost always interested in what I have to say, even when I’m being a bore, like now. We’ve been best friends since I was two, maybe even before that. Just about everybody calls us “the cutest couple,” which is a little too saccharine for both of our tastes. But it happens to be true.

“Sam, it was freezing that night Danny and I met, and I had a terrible cold. To make it worse, I had been locked out of our apartment by my old boyfriend Chris, that awful beast.”

“That despicable brute, that creep,” Sam contributes. “I never liked Chris. Can you tell?”

“So this nice guy, Danny, comes jogging by and he asks if I’m all right. I’m coughing and crying and a total mess. And I say, ‘Do I look like I’m all right? Mind your own blacking business. You’re not going to pick me up, if that’s what you’re thinking. Scram!” I snorted a laugh Sam’s way.

“That’s where I got my nickname, ‘Scram.’ Anyway, Danny came back on the second half of his run. He said he could hear me coughing for two miles down the beach. He brought me coffee, Sam. He ran up the beach with a hot cup of coffee for a complete stranger.”

“Yes, but a beautiful stranger, you have to admit.”

I stopped talking, and Sam hugged me and said, “You’ve been through so much. It’s awful and it’s unfair. I wish I could wave a magic wand and make it all better for you.”

I pulled out a folded, wrinkled envelope from the picket of my jeans. “Danny left this for me. In Hawaii. One year ago today.”

“Go ahead, Jennifer. Let it out. I want to hear everything tonight.”

I opened the letter and began to read. I was already starting to choke up.

Dear, wonderful, gorgeous Jennifer…

You’re the writer, not me, but I had to try to put down some of my feelings about your incredible news. I always thought that you couldn’t possibly make me any happier, but I was wrong.

Jen, I’m flying so high right now I can’t believe what I’m feeling. I am, without a doubt, the luckiest man in the world. I married the best woman, and now I’m going to have the best baby with her. How could I not be a pretty good dad, with all that going for me? I will be. I promise.

I love you even more today than I did yesterday, and you wouldn’t believe how much I loved you yesterday.

I love you, and our little “peanut.”…

Danny.


Tears started to roll down my cheeks. “I’m such a big baby,” I said. “I’m pathetic.”

“No, you’re one of the strongest women I know. You’ve lost so much, and you’re still fighting.”

“Yeah, but I’m losing the battle. I’m losing. I’m losing real bad, Sam.”

Then Sam pulled me close and hugged me, and for the moment at least, it was all better -- just like always.



(Yes, you noticed the tense change, too? They're not typos. They're in the actual texts)
 

maestrowork

Re: Catching Up Part II

I had always been fascinated by the big house of Framling.

the Framling house must play a big part in the story. Ok, I'm all ears...


Perhaps it had begun when I was two years old and Fabian Framling had kidnapped me and kept me there for two weeks.

Not bad. Now you've got me asking questions: Who are the Framlings? Who is Fabian? And why did he kidnap the narrator? What happened next? (but the "Peter Parker" names again? What's with that?)


It was a house full of shadows and mystery, I discovered, when I went in search of the peacock-feather fan.

Fair enough. But why is he/she looking for the fan? And what is mysterious about the house?

In the long corridors, in the gallery, in the silent rooms, the past seemed to be leering at one from all corners, insidiously imposing itself on the present and almost--though never quite--obliterating it.

It's okay so far, still a little too telling. But at least I'm getting some imagery of what the house might look like. How old is the narrator? Is the narrator a man, woman, a child? I'm getting a little impatient here...

For as long as I could remember Lady Harriet Framling had reigned supreme over our village.

OK, now we have some info about the Framlings... apparently the story happens in some village.

Farm labourers standing respectfully at the side of the road while the carriage, emblazoned with the majestic Framling arms, drove past, touched their forelocks and the women bobbed their deferential curtsies.

Now this is nice and vivid. I immediately get the apparent time period and setting. It's probably a historical fiction.


She was spoken of in hushed whispers as though those who mentioned her feared they might be taking her name in vain; in my youthful mind she ranked with the Queen and was second only to God.

Queen. So this may be somewhere in England or some magical kingdom... don't know yet. Characterization of Lady Framling through the people.


It was small wonder that when her son, Fabian, commanded me to be his slave, I--being only six years old at that time--made no protest.

OK, now we know something about the "kidnapping" and the age of the narrator. I'd like to know it earlier though... I still don't know if the narrator is a he or a she... Also, when did the kidnapping occur? Meaning, is the narrator an adult now, or still a child?


It seemed only natural that we humble folk should serve the Big House in any way that was demanded of us.

Characterization of the narrator and the period, etc. Nicely done. So much is said in a simple sentence.


The Big House--known to the community as "The House" as though those dwellings which the rest of us occupied were something...

Unfinished sentence...

So far so good. I'm interesting in learning more about "The House." At the same time, I feel like I'm reading a set up -- an opening shot of a movie. There's nothing compelling yet to stop me from putting the book down. There are some good questions I'd like to find out: who is the narrator, who the Framlings are, and what is the Big House. Most importantly, what the story is about.... I have the foggiest idea right now.

Is it a page-turner for me? Marginally. Is it awkful? No, and the writing is decent. Will I read it? Probably, but maybe not tonight.
 

Crusader

...

@maestrowork:

i want to comment on your critique, but i swear the drollery of your thoughts keeps seizing up my brain cells with amusement ("... but the 'Peter Parker' names again? What's with that?")

i can say this much: you are far, far, far more charitable to the piece than i would be.

And as far as the item you posted... [makes a face] One comment you said, summarizes my sentiments: "Is the narrator a man, woman, a child? I'm getting a little impatient here..." The bloody thing has no main character description whatsoever, or even any gender pronouns at all, for that matter. i couldn't tell that the narrator was a woman 'till halfway down... that kind of mistake is annoying enough to discourage critique altogether.
 

maestrowork

Re: New blood...

How important is revealing the gender of a 1st person narrator? I think it's pretty important.

I remember reading someone's WIP in a writing class... now, this person could write -- marvelous writer with nice prose, pacing and details. But the darn thing was written in 1st person without telling us the narrator's name or gender. It read like a man's POV, especially the comments on lustful thoughts about the beautiful flight attendant, etc. It was only at the end of the chapter that it was revealed the narrator was a woman (an FBI agent at that) -- thus a lesbian. It's a "trick" that actually angered a lot of people in the class.

For example, in Grisham's example (The Street Lawyer), we don't know if the narrator is a man or a woman. We can only assume that it's "he" and perhaps a lawyer, but we have no good way of telling. We only get the feeling that he's a "man" because of his reaction to the street bum, speech pattern, etc. but first impression could be wrong. It would be jarring if we find out later that the narrator is actually a woman.

Instead of saying "the receptionist greeted me..." it might be a better thing to say "'Good morning, Mr. Smith," the receptionist said..." Now I know the narrator is a man.

How many people are bothered by that? Or is it important to the story?
 

novelator

Re: Catching Up Part II

You know, I'm bound to anger someone here and that is not my intent, but the last two or three pages of discussion are an example of precisely why I don't believe in writers groups or mass critiques, but rather one or two good writing buddies who know my voice and will help with the typos, perhaps aid in the development of the piece to a point, after which I farm the book out to a slew of beta-readers who are not writers to read from beginning to end and give me their honest impressions.

All the suggestions, and most were very good, prove only that we are all individual writers with an independent approach to our work. There are innumerable ways to word sentences and paragraphs, beginnings and endings, and tell our stories, no one way right or wrong, just different. I found Grisham's opening described more about the main character by inference than the homeless man, and yes, I did want to turn the page to find out what happened. Some of you felt qualified to pick it apart, but the question that really prompted me to think was what if Grisham had posted the work here, or anywhere for that matter. Would it be the same? If he had implemented a fraction of what was suggested--hardly.

Advice is all well and good, but I've said it before and I'll say it again--there comes a time in every true author's path where they must float their own boat, right or wrong, good or bad.

Someone else mentioned we should keep our advice consistent, but I venture to say that especially with writing, consistency, or doing what everyone else is doing because it meets with the approval of the pack, leads to homogenization. Not to say there aren't certain details that any writer would be a fool to overlook, such as formatting, adherence to publisher's guidelines, and the like. My point here is that we should be consistent mainly in encouraging each other to pursue our individuality, that our unique voice and approach to story-telling is what will make or break us as writers.

At one time I considered posting a scene at AW, just to see what would happen, until I realized I already knew--as with any work posted anywhere subject to writers' opinions, there will be kudos and disagreement, suggestions here, must do's there, the cans and the can'ts, and only because we are all different. I, for one, think we should celebrate our differences, and encourage one another best we can. I'm not against offering help or suggestions when asked, but I think the need for validation by others is a phase we all go through in pursuit of our writing goals. If you, the author, are not your own best advocate, your number one fan, if you don't validate yourself, all the suggestions by others won't do you any good.

If I've offended anyone, I humbly apologize. This is only my opinion. YMMV

Mari
 

maestrowork

Re: Catching Up Part II

Critiques are basically opinions. They maybe based on experience, knowledge, and understanding, but they're opinions nonetheless.

I think it's a good thing for a writer to get opinions for his work from different sources, either from a writer's or a reader's point of view. But it's true that people are different from one another, and writers write in different ways. We should become comfortable in our own skills and voices and styles that we could pick out the gems from the coal. But for a new writer, it might not be an easy thing to do.

That's why when I critique or offer editing advice, I always keep the author's style in mind.

There is wisdom in certain things, and Uncle Jim's thread has illustrated many of these things -- clarity of plot, character development, vivid details (show, not tell), natural dialogue, strong beginning, etc. -- that are universal and true, no matter what our individual styles are. Sometimes a reader can tell you something is wrong, but he/she can't really tell you exactly what. It's when a fellow writer might be able to help us pinpoint the problem, be it stilted dialogue, implausible plot points, or flat characterization.
 

pianoman5

The moving finger writes, and having edited, moves on...

I can see where you're coming from, Mari - picking apart someone else's work may appear to be destructive, but in this forum I for one am convinced that it is useful. Perhaps not so much for those who are already confident in their craft and know exactly how to be their own worst critics and fix things accordingly, but certainly for those of us who need to develop their skill in analysing what they've written with a view to improving it.

If it's done in the spirit of carping criticism then it can be disappointingly mealy-mouthed, but that's rarely the case here.

I can't find the exact quote from a well-known author, but it goes something along the lines of:

"There is no force in nature equal to the urge of a writer equipped with a blue pencil to change someone else's work.''

I suspect few of us are not tempted occasionally.

Deconstructing an already published work may seem like an exercise in futility, but I'm sure there's some good in it if it makes each of us us think just a little bit harder before we commit a sentence to paper.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.