View Full Version : Writing Buddy Request (fantasy)

is friday
01-05-2014, 02:19 PM
I'm looking for a commitment with another author who is in the middle/beginning of a new project and is willing to swap around 10k words a month for general critique. I'm not sensitive about criticism. I am, however, requesting mostly general pass/fail assessment of the intent of each scene.

What is confusing?
What paragraphs do not work?
Is this scene boring at any point?
Simple comments like "I don't think this works" might inspire me to ask a follow-up question for clarification but I'm not gonna grill you.

Why you might be interested in this deal!

Past the Eastern Mark, in the frontier: A young mountain-borne savage called Bukalasoo is soon to come of age in the zi’Quell tribe. It is revealed that he is a prophet, and through use of destructive magic, attempts to keep his peaceful family from the war with the city-states that haunts his dreams.

In the plains of the civilized people: Common servant girl Culoquinne, mistreated by her noble lord, becomes the subject of mistaken identity. Armed with the power and influence of noble heritage, she sets to seeing the world shaped in a manner she deems just. And righting what wrongs have been committed against her.

Found in the underbelly of the trade routes: The grizzled officer turned sellsword Mack has been drowning himself in whiskey since his desertion. Despite an unlikely and sudden pardon, he soon is trapped in a political puzzle where morality comes between him and solace.

“You will need to prepare yourself for the thrashing after you return, my son. You will be thrown into the pit!”

Rakur smacked the boy on the shoulder with a proud smile. Bukalasoo felt the need to writhe; As though that might help him escape his duty. Thruyal and Ruphai slapped each other on the back and they laughed, speaking old stories with only a look and touch.

Each boy who returned a man was bartered for. The women gathered and offered valuables in as heated a scene Bukalasoo had ever known. Many elders bolstered their daughter's or granddaughter's offer with treasures they had acquired over the years. The man would then choose his woman as the Sun and Drumasca stood opposite another. Bukalasoo was then a man to do as his woman wished.

The thought of being tethered to a woman excited the boy half as much as it frightened him. He had grown accustomed to spending all of his time with father, now that mother was gone. He did not want to make his choice. It was a commitment he could not undo.

Culoquinne came to the realization that she would not find a dress to replace her own from last night. She took a moment to stare at the thing, which had once appeared so magnificent, but now was torn to shreds and strewn about. She gathered it up piece by piece with care. The green sleeves were her favorite part of the dress, which led her to look quite a bit slimmer. She held that bundle of cloth against her chest and shut her eyes.

She was barely sixteen years of age and Culoquinne felt as though she would never be quite the same after she lost that green dress. Tears were appropriate, but instead she struggled to justify to herself why she was upset. It was her fault the dress had been cut open and ruined. Hastily she gathered up the sheets, shirt, and dress.

It seemed to her as though it took an entire hour to light the fireplace, but she knew she had only struck the flint five, six, now seven times. Her hands shook so horribly that it was a wonder she could get even one decent stroke in. She blew on the flames. Displeased with the progress after only a few attempts, Culoquinne retrieved what brandy was left in the pitcher and splashed it onto the wood. Now that the fire had a furious hunger, she shoved the ruined sheets, shirt, and dress inside to be consumed.

A woman with an appreciably large ass was strewn out in front of the door. She was easy enough to move and prop upright against the wall. Mack picked up the fancy bowl hat that had fallen from her head. He looked between her, sound asleep as she was, and the hat of particular allure. Mack knew that if he had such a hat, he would be furious if he had it nicked. Regretfully, he left it on the naked woman’s snoozing face.

Some effort was required to jerk free the aged wooden door. Mack was in the hall for a blink before he turned around. The bowl hat was plucked from the woman’s head and vanished from her future. Mack resolved that it was no coincidence that it fit him smartly. It perhaps doubled his worth and credibility, impressing upon would-be buyers of his class and manners. Mack shut the door and was alone.

Every tenth step along the hallway was a pair of doors staring at one another. The walls bore the horrific abuse of vagrants and drunks from the last decade, likely some coming from as far as the Eastern Mark. It seemed the owner had given up on decorating upstairs after it became clear that his list of debts had more ink than the ledger of customers. Such was the life of an innkeeper who could not afford to enforce standards and presentable discourse.

Seizing his new hat and pressing it to his chest, Mack said, “I am glad to make your acquaintance, my Lady….” Cupping the top of the hat and pointing to the air in front of him, he said, “What was…? Oh....” His brows furrowed and he leaned over, as though listening to an imparted secret. “I would be delighted.” Confidently, Mack donned the hat once again.

I'm on course for 10k a month but if you write more/less than me that is not a big deal. I revise quite a bit before sharing material so you need not worry about glaring errors. I would prefer it if you either read fantasy or write it, although admittedly I rarely read in my own genre. I'm willing to swap for just about anything except erotica if the summary interests me, so feel free to pitch.