- Joined
- May 19, 2008
- Messages
- 268
- Reaction score
- 59
- Location
- British Columbia
- Website
- www.arcadiasnips.com
My current WIP is a 55k alternative history/steampunk/comedy story called Arcadia Snips and the Steamwork Consortium: (Being A Wholly Accurate Historical Account Concerning Matters Of Steam, Skullduggery, And The Irresponsible Application Of Reckless Mathematics In The 19th Century).
I'm looking for a beta-reader or two who could help me out with the last few revisions. I've all ready got one person looking at it, but they're reading a much older copy (I don't want to ask them to start all over, and much of what they're reading still applies), and I want to have as broad a perspective as I can manage.
I want to expand the work a little--so my key goal in seeking a beta-writer is to find parts where the writing is lazy and could be stronger (and longer), and where more scenes could be inserted or expanded. In addition, I'm worried about the pacing in the last quarter, whether or not the love subplot has sprung a leak, and could you check out the radiator while you're at it?
I'm a twenty-something history major living off in the southern end of North America. I have a twisted sense of humor (if you read the story, you'll quickly see this), and so long as you're honest and don't condescend, am invulnerable to criticism. Not to imply that I don't take it to heart, but if you tell me my book ought to be burned, I'm not going to get bent out of shape.
If you're interested or want to ask me a few questions, feel free to drop me a line here or send me a PM. I'm hoping for a pretty thorough beta-writer; my grammar is (if I may briefly indulgence in self-inflation) pretty friggin' awesome, though, so I don't need any help there. My issue is with potentially faulty story-telling.
Oh, yeah, and I also want to know what parts you really, really liked, and which parts you didn't. I'm trying to build a cohesive understanding of what portions of my writing really appeal to audiences and which parts kind of fall flat.
That's it. If you're interested in a sample to see what you're getting into, one is provided below--and if you want to see more, I can PM or email a chunk of it to you.
Thanks for reading!
The trains were on time.
The trains were always on time. Through sleet and hail, through rain and snow, through fire, ice, and all that lay between; the trains should not and would not be late.
The burden of assuring that this remained so had been placed upon the shoulders of a shrewd man with a peerless ambition and a mind that made steel traps seem like the awkward and rusty playthings of impoverished orphans. He had once been described by a colleague as possessing the patience of a spider, the cleverness of a fox, and the heart of a lizard. This had not been taken as an insult.
Count Olek watched through his office window as the trains outside plunged into tunnels and emerged across bridges, forming a tangled knot complex enough to give Alexander's sword pause. Powerful locomotives weaved their way through the web, their conductors following Olek's calculated directions--directions so divorced from common sense that calamity seemed inevitable. Yet like a magician pouring over archaic mathematical formulas, he snatched order from the jaws of chaos again and again.
His office was extravagant yet tasteful. Sets of exquisitely crafted maple chairs inlaid with floral patterns and padded with matching damask cushions gathered around marble-topped tables. Ornate brass fixtures capped with glass spheres provided light along the walls, with coils of gas burning brilliantly within.
Mr. Eddington admired none of this as he marched in; for him, it was all the useless trimmings of a noble busy-body. The rail-thin administrator of the Steamwork was the sort of man whose face had been designed explicitly for the purpose of expressing outrage. There was never a moment when he lacked something to say and simultaneously possessed sufficient wisdom not to say it.
He was accompanied by a gentleman who clutched a pile of documents to his chest as if it were a magic talisman that warded against vampires--and he had just blundered into a den of nosferatu after wading through a pool of blood mixed with steak sauce. Mr. Tweedle was the chief administrator of all six of Aberwick's banks, and yet he was so boring in appearance that we shall waste no more words to describe him, save to note that he sometimes wore a very uninteresting hat.
"Count Olek!" Mr. Eddington cried, the force of his voice giving Mr. Tweedle reason to cower. "I demand an explanation!"
Count Olek tore himself away from the window with great reluctance. He observed the gentlemen as an alley cat might observe a pair of exotic birds kept safe in a cage; interesting, but ultimately of little consequence.
"For what do you demand an explanation?" Count Olek asked.
"This!" Mr. Eddington slapped the newspaper down onto the desk.
"That," Olek pointed out, "is a newspaper. I believe it may, on occasion, contain news."
"Sometimes crossword puzzles," Mr. Tweedle offered, before sinking under Mr. Eddington's withering glare.
"Not the paper, Count Olek. The article on the front page." Mr. Eddington's finger stabbed at the title. It read: STEAMWORK UNDER INVESTIGATION.
"Oh, that," Olek said, dismissing Mr. Eddington's outrage as if it were no more than an irritable fly. "It is of little concern to such law-abiding men as yourselves."
"My associates and I brought our business to this fair city under the principle of non-interference at the hands of the government."
"And so you have received it. And so you will continue to receive it. His Majesty has made clear his desire for your sovereignty over personal affairs," Count Olek said with only the smallest hint of contempt.
"Then what is this talk of an investigation? Why were we not informed?"
"I planned on scheduling a meeting with you this afternoon to discuss the matter," Olek said. "His Majesty has requested your full compliance in a government investigation of your facilities. He is concerned about the recent rash of attacks against our banks, and what it might mean should your inventions at the Steamwork fall into the wrong hands."
"Our security is second-to-none," Mr. Eddington snapped. "I will not have your men interfering with my work, blundering about in my workshops and disturbing my machines. We can carry out our own investigation, thank you very much."
"And what have you unearthed concerning the unfortunate demise of Mr. Copper?"
"A tragedy, to be certain, but a wholly inevitable one," Mr. Eddington said. "Mr. Copper's research was highly dangerous."
"His Majesty has reason to believe it may be part of an anarchist plot," Olek said. "Because the sensitive nature of your current project and its connection to Aberwick’s financial security, the King wishes for the case to be re-opened and investigated.”
Mr. Eddington's scowl deepened. "I have no desire to see your 'agents' in my house of business, Olek."
"Please, Mr. Eddington. Agents? In my employ?" Olek brought a narrow hand to his chest, as if fending off violence. "I have no such thing. I am merely a humble instrument of the King's will."
"In that case," Mr. Eddington said, stepping backward and folding his arms over his chest. "I demand the investigation be carried out by a third party, unrelated to you or your government."
"Such a strange request," Olek said. "Do you think us as little more than a motley collection of spies and thieves?"
"I think that history speaks for itself, Count Olek."
"Very well. Hire any investigative agency you would like, so long as it is clear that they are impartial to the matter. I only ask that a government consultant be allowed to join the investigation, to ensure that our concerns are addressed."
Mr. Eddington's eyes narrowed into a razor's edge. "One consultant," he said.
"Only one," Olek agreed, and then he smiled. It was a vicious thing, full of malice and sharp edges with nary a friendly flat-topped tooth in sight.
I'm looking for a beta-reader or two who could help me out with the last few revisions. I've all ready got one person looking at it, but they're reading a much older copy (I don't want to ask them to start all over, and much of what they're reading still applies), and I want to have as broad a perspective as I can manage.
I want to expand the work a little--so my key goal in seeking a beta-writer is to find parts where the writing is lazy and could be stronger (and longer), and where more scenes could be inserted or expanded. In addition, I'm worried about the pacing in the last quarter, whether or not the love subplot has sprung a leak, and could you check out the radiator while you're at it?
I'm a twenty-something history major living off in the southern end of North America. I have a twisted sense of humor (if you read the story, you'll quickly see this), and so long as you're honest and don't condescend, am invulnerable to criticism. Not to imply that I don't take it to heart, but if you tell me my book ought to be burned, I'm not going to get bent out of shape.
If you're interested or want to ask me a few questions, feel free to drop me a line here or send me a PM. I'm hoping for a pretty thorough beta-writer; my grammar is (if I may briefly indulgence in self-inflation) pretty friggin' awesome, though, so I don't need any help there. My issue is with potentially faulty story-telling.
Oh, yeah, and I also want to know what parts you really, really liked, and which parts you didn't. I'm trying to build a cohesive understanding of what portions of my writing really appeal to audiences and which parts kind of fall flat.
That's it. If you're interested in a sample to see what you're getting into, one is provided below--and if you want to see more, I can PM or email a chunk of it to you.
Thanks for reading!
~*~
The trains were on time.
The trains were always on time. Through sleet and hail, through rain and snow, through fire, ice, and all that lay between; the trains should not and would not be late.
The burden of assuring that this remained so had been placed upon the shoulders of a shrewd man with a peerless ambition and a mind that made steel traps seem like the awkward and rusty playthings of impoverished orphans. He had once been described by a colleague as possessing the patience of a spider, the cleverness of a fox, and the heart of a lizard. This had not been taken as an insult.
Count Olek watched through his office window as the trains outside plunged into tunnels and emerged across bridges, forming a tangled knot complex enough to give Alexander's sword pause. Powerful locomotives weaved their way through the web, their conductors following Olek's calculated directions--directions so divorced from common sense that calamity seemed inevitable. Yet like a magician pouring over archaic mathematical formulas, he snatched order from the jaws of chaos again and again.
His office was extravagant yet tasteful. Sets of exquisitely crafted maple chairs inlaid with floral patterns and padded with matching damask cushions gathered around marble-topped tables. Ornate brass fixtures capped with glass spheres provided light along the walls, with coils of gas burning brilliantly within.
Mr. Eddington admired none of this as he marched in; for him, it was all the useless trimmings of a noble busy-body. The rail-thin administrator of the Steamwork was the sort of man whose face had been designed explicitly for the purpose of expressing outrage. There was never a moment when he lacked something to say and simultaneously possessed sufficient wisdom not to say it.
He was accompanied by a gentleman who clutched a pile of documents to his chest as if it were a magic talisman that warded against vampires--and he had just blundered into a den of nosferatu after wading through a pool of blood mixed with steak sauce. Mr. Tweedle was the chief administrator of all six of Aberwick's banks, and yet he was so boring in appearance that we shall waste no more words to describe him, save to note that he sometimes wore a very uninteresting hat.
"Count Olek!" Mr. Eddington cried, the force of his voice giving Mr. Tweedle reason to cower. "I demand an explanation!"
Count Olek tore himself away from the window with great reluctance. He observed the gentlemen as an alley cat might observe a pair of exotic birds kept safe in a cage; interesting, but ultimately of little consequence.
"For what do you demand an explanation?" Count Olek asked.
"This!" Mr. Eddington slapped the newspaper down onto the desk.
"That," Olek pointed out, "is a newspaper. I believe it may, on occasion, contain news."
"Sometimes crossword puzzles," Mr. Tweedle offered, before sinking under Mr. Eddington's withering glare.
"Not the paper, Count Olek. The article on the front page." Mr. Eddington's finger stabbed at the title. It read: STEAMWORK UNDER INVESTIGATION.
"Oh, that," Olek said, dismissing Mr. Eddington's outrage as if it were no more than an irritable fly. "It is of little concern to such law-abiding men as yourselves."
"My associates and I brought our business to this fair city under the principle of non-interference at the hands of the government."
"And so you have received it. And so you will continue to receive it. His Majesty has made clear his desire for your sovereignty over personal affairs," Count Olek said with only the smallest hint of contempt.
"Then what is this talk of an investigation? Why were we not informed?"
"I planned on scheduling a meeting with you this afternoon to discuss the matter," Olek said. "His Majesty has requested your full compliance in a government investigation of your facilities. He is concerned about the recent rash of attacks against our banks, and what it might mean should your inventions at the Steamwork fall into the wrong hands."
"Our security is second-to-none," Mr. Eddington snapped. "I will not have your men interfering with my work, blundering about in my workshops and disturbing my machines. We can carry out our own investigation, thank you very much."
"And what have you unearthed concerning the unfortunate demise of Mr. Copper?"
"A tragedy, to be certain, but a wholly inevitable one," Mr. Eddington said. "Mr. Copper's research was highly dangerous."
"His Majesty has reason to believe it may be part of an anarchist plot," Olek said. "Because the sensitive nature of your current project and its connection to Aberwick’s financial security, the King wishes for the case to be re-opened and investigated.”
Mr. Eddington's scowl deepened. "I have no desire to see your 'agents' in my house of business, Olek."
"Please, Mr. Eddington. Agents? In my employ?" Olek brought a narrow hand to his chest, as if fending off violence. "I have no such thing. I am merely a humble instrument of the King's will."
"In that case," Mr. Eddington said, stepping backward and folding his arms over his chest. "I demand the investigation be carried out by a third party, unrelated to you or your government."
"Such a strange request," Olek said. "Do you think us as little more than a motley collection of spies and thieves?"
"I think that history speaks for itself, Count Olek."
"Very well. Hire any investigative agency you would like, so long as it is clear that they are impartial to the matter. I only ask that a government consultant be allowed to join the investigation, to ensure that our concerns are addressed."
Mr. Eddington's eyes narrowed into a razor's edge. "One consultant," he said.
"Only one," Olek agreed, and then he smiled. It was a vicious thing, full of malice and sharp edges with nary a friendly flat-topped tooth in sight.