What a treat to find this review popping up! I assumed your vacation might limit your reviewerly output. Alas, I was wrong. Thank you for the detailed suggestions especially regarding Carroll. I’ve been stuck on how to depict him without making it blantantly obvious who I’m trying to portray. A little about his past might do the trick. Also, the Ma and Pa issue is a subtle one that you were wise to draw my attention to. Hmm… patronising? Probably. This is the last chronological post of the chapter. I might dip bits into Urbis now and then. I bow humbly as always.
Novel Treatments / Sundown in the Sinkhole (VI)
Six
The Scientist
She descended the ladder with caution, cradling the puke jar and book tightly under her arm. Her mother’s pendant swung down from her ankle, catching the sun’s pulsing rays. The reflection bounced against the chrome plating of the spike, sending a shard of light sizzling through an empty tent. In the afternoons, the reflection from the spike made the site twice as warm as the desert, and the workers struggled intensely to stave off the torpor.
“I’m so gla’ you came back,” Shilton said with a joyful leap.
“Hi there Shilton,” Caitlin replied with familiarity.
“Whass that you got wit’ you?”
“It’s jus’ my jar o’ puke. It was ma Pa’s.”
“Ah, I see. Well, I un’erstan’. Did you tell you’ Ma you was leavin’ tonight?” he asked with concern.
“No, I jus’ leave her a note.”
“Good. That all she need to know.”
Caitlin smiled at him and wondered if he really understood the full extent of her suffering. It was difficult to tell behind his wonky features and disfigured teeth if he understood anything she had told him, but his smile put her more at ease in his presence than she had been previous evening. They walked past the giant contraption and turned their heads to one side to stop the sun charring their skin.
“Do this thing have a name?” Caitlin asked, mopping her brow as the wave of heat hit her fully.
“Yeah, we call it the big ol’ metal prick,” he replied.
“Oh. I can see how that name be app-rop-riate,” she replied with a delicate tone. She was highly amused by Shilton’s gutter mouth, but suppressed any giggles to prevent him making further jokes of that manner in future.
“You can call it the inver’er, thas’ what the scie’ist calls it, no how.”
“The in-ver-ter?”
“Yeah. Anyways, this is where ma Pa and me is stayin’. You can sleep over here if you want,” Shilton said as they arrived at his tent.
About three or four figures rustled in tents next to theirs, and Shilton pulled back the flap to reveal his father napping. It was the notorious Renal Shilton, the outlaw wanted since 1887. Caitlin recognised him from the posters she had seen nailed up on city walls, and was taken aback by his face which showed a lifetime of heavy drinking and brawling.
“He was burn’ real bad in the fire,” he said.
“Say, what’s your first name?” Caitlin eventually asked, wondering why it had taken her so long.
“Junior.”
“Yeah, of course it is,” she replied vacantly.
The scientist hopped his way towards them with exuberance. Caitlin was seized by the fear that he would cast her out, frightened by the imposing and erratic figure he cut. He walked like a penguin waddling through an oil slick and could have done with the assistance of a cane to help him navigate the rougher terrain. A smile morphed onto the contortioned visage of the wizened old genius and he gleefully began rubbing his hands at whatever pleasant thought took form in his mind.
“Caitlin has returned. I’m so glad. Tell me, young lass, what is your particular interest in my momentous venture?” he asked.
“It’s… I think this is a won-der-ful way to show the council up, sir,” she responded, desperate to fall at his feet.
“Ah, so Caitlin seeks revenge, too. Well, I can understand that bloodlust. If one is oppressed there is little else one can do except hate and hate some more and then desperation sets in. I expect there beats inside of you young Caitlin a heart of the most insatiable fury, an intense, rippling conflagration of pain and angst. Well, join the fight. Although I must inform you now that I am not here to solve the problem of your town, no, but to put my wondrous creation into practice. I call it the inverter, Caitlin, although your accomplice here has a more striking term I’m sure he’ll inform you of if you ask him politely.”
Caitlin was awe-stricken by his erudition and pleased she recognised many of the words he was using. She felt tongue-tied in his presence, but found scraps of conversation out of politeness.
“What is your name, sir?” she asked quietly.
“I am Lewis, young madam, and how delightful of you to ask.”
“I think he like you, Cait’in,” Shilton chipped in, laughing. Caitlin smiled back while she made her way around the tent to place her things down.
“What is that book you have with you there?”
“It’s nothin’ really. It’s just some Lewis Carroll I was reading earlier, sir,” she replied humbly.
“You read Lewis Carroll. My word. You truly are an oddity, young Caitlin. I may have misjudged you unknowingly. Yes, I knew the man rather well. We went to the same school, in fact. What is your favourite of Carroll’s works?” he asked with a sideways smile.
“Well, I like Alice In Won-der-land, but right now I be readin’ Jab-ber-woc-ky from Through the Lookin’ Glass.”
“I am familiar with the poem. A strange choice for a strange girl. What draws you to that I wonder?”
“I like how it helps me make sense of a crazy world,” she said. A disarming glow lit the scientist’s face.
“Ah, now isn’t that the truth! It is indeed a crazy world, Caitlin and things are about to get much crazier. Can you imagine what will happen when I turn over York, Caitlin? What will people say when they watch this little county flip on its side? I think nothing will be able to get their little minds to comprehend. I’ll flip them. I’ll flip them good,” he said. It was difficult to argue with him when he assumed that tone.
“Why, sir?” Caitlin asked.
“Well… follow me, young lady, and you’ll find out,” he said, making his way to the large marquee far right of the inverter. The marquee was the base of operations for the whole project. Caitlin walked with Lewis while Shilton remained fixed to the spot, his bucktooth protruding from his poky mouth while the same hangdog, lustful expression glimmered through his usual mien of partial insanity and dread. Caitlin smiled back at him and went with the scientist on his horse, getting a leg up from a friendly crew member.
The marquee was an exciting sight to behold. There were clues as to Lewis’s background dotted around the insides of the Whiplash-sized shelter, from the expensive-looking statues he had festooning the area, to the various suits hanging on a rack at the far end of the space where he slept and gathered his thoughts. Certificates of achievement lined the walls. Caitlin stood mealy-mouthed at the entrance, fearful of stepping into his private space.
“No please, come in, Caitlin. I’ll show you what I’m planning to do,” he said in a grim undertone.
“OK,” she replied, looking around reluctantly.
“Come over here and I’ll tell you everything you need to know about this creation of mine.”
Caitlin sashayed over, wondering if the scientist was real or whether there was some highly intelligent demon sitting within his bones, controlling his every movement and action.
“Now Caitlin, you may still be wondering why someone would want to flip an entire county in the state of North Carolina. Well, let me explain to you why I was sent here in the first place. I came over in 1860 with a group of British scientists and we aimed to put our research and studies into practice. I was drafted over with a team of geoscientists and we were hired to carry out basic research on earthquakes and ground tremors. Well, not to bore you dear Caitlin with the details, but I began to develop my own interest in extreme ground disturbance and the causal effects of seismic interruption along tentative fault lines. To bring about the inevitable apotheosis and conclusion of my studies, I designed the inverter,” he explained, his speech carefully recited as though spoken one-thousand times.
She was mesmerised by his grasp of language, but was naturally curious as to why he wanted to cause so much damage on an unprecedented scale. She delighted in the thought, but could not fight her conscience.
“But ain’t this mo-chine gonna hurt lots of folks?”
“Oh no, dear Caitlin. Well, I can’t fully guarantee that being tipped on one’s side will benefit everyone, but there is absolutely no way that my inverter should harm a single person. You see, how my device works is it rips up the plates of the earth through a series of subterranean seismic dischargers, and then slowly cranes York upwards, tilting it over a period of 42 hours to an angle of around 78.4 degrees. We don’t fully flip it over, we just poise it at an angle to avoid widespread death and destruction,” he said. Caitlin listened on, confused by some of the terms he was using. She had no idea if he was genuine but had no grounds for mistrusting him.
“So what’s gonna happen to folks, then? I mean, what will happen to us? Ain’t we gonna flip as well?”
“Oh, no. We are poised at the nucleus of the county. That was why we chose this spot outside your little borough, it was the perfect position for us to tilt. The landscape around us will tilt but this hole stretches for over three miles underground. We’ll merely sink.”
The explanation left her confused. She failed to understand logically how the whole process would work, and remained bemused as to what benefits would be reaped from tilting York on its side. She was also a touch disappointed that it was only going to be canted at an extreme angle, as she had been nurturing visions of a full 180 degree flip.
“Listen, it’s too complicated for you to fully understand, Caitlin. We’ve had some of the world’s brightest scientific minds agonising over this for years. Look, I’ll show you one of my earliest diagrams before any elaborate steps had been taken in its development. This might help you understand further,” he said. The scientist scooted over to a cabinet and pulled out from a mountain of drawings and sketches a very torn and tatty old drawing.
“Here. It’s a little basic, but this is roughly the way it’s going to work,” he said. Caitlin scrutinised the diagram and scrunched up her eyes at the puny drawing she saw before her:
[INSERT DIAGRAM HERE]
“As I said, it’s a very basic diagram. That spiky blob is supposed to be an outline of York. I drew this on a train in two minutes before I had even set foot in York way back in 1858. I had just discovered how perfect its shape was spatially for what I wanted to do,” he said.
“Does peoples in York know you doing this?” she asked. The scientist sensed that Caitlin was clever enough to fathom that what he was doing was probably against some sort of law. He sighed and hunched over his table, as if he was tired of telling people what he was about to say.
“Listen, Caitlin. Yes, what I am doing contravenes many people’s wishes. But sometimes sacrifices have to be made in the name of science. As I said, very few people should actually die when this county tilts, and although this sort of disruption will cause widespread earthquakes throughout South Carolina and Georgia, what I will discover from flipping York shall be invaluable. We might even be able to learn how to prevent earthquakes completely,” he said, an excited spark in his voice.
She noticed the uneasiness in his words, but was unconcerned at his potential lunacy. Nor was she concerned terribly if a few people died in the process. The thought that her Ma might actually survive bothered her a great deal.
“Essentially, Caitlin, what will happen is that most people will slowly slip into the next state, North Carolina, and the whole process will be like sliding down one big, long chute. Unstable buildings may crumble, too, but our seismic dischargers are very far under the ground so that shouldn’t happen.”
“What are those things?”
“Subterranean seismic dischargers? Well, they’re advanced, upward-pointing drills that propel the landscape, well… upwards. The five of them will ensure that the county is craned safely up on its side. They extend for up to 300 miles.”
“Right. Thank you for ex-plain-ing it to me, sir,” Caitlin said, curtseying and exiting the marquee. The scientist remained inside, keeping a guarded grin on his face and retaining the same detached, ambiguous physiognomy that kept everyone baffled and mildly suspicious.
Returning to Shilton’s tent, she felt a strange spiritual disturbance in her stomach making her feel queasy. It felt like a sharp punch in the gut from God for supporting a man who was so blatantly unbalancing his universe. She ignored this feeling however, as she knew that God had created the most unbalanced universe as far as she could see, and she saw that what scientist was doing was the most rational response to the state of his creation. Shilton’s Pa had woken up by the time she returned, and seeing him up and about was more than mildly disconcerting. With his cadaverous lineaments, his grilled brown skin and malformed features, he was surely the product of a filthy backwater gene pool.
“Cait’in, you back. This here is ma Pa,” he said.
“Hello,” Caitlin said, touching his saurian skin. She felt his scaly lips along her hand as he leaned over to kiss her fingers, his blindness making the move a struggle. Her skin curdled slightly at his touch, but she keep a friendly smile on her face lest she risk being turned away.
“He’o! Woah, we sure dez got ‘em nob’a ones,” he said.
His speech was almost completely indecipherable and Caitlin awkwardly pretended to understand what it was he had said.
“M’son he’ to’ me did fin’ out wan’in’ one ev’en. Se right?” he asked. Caitlin looked over at Shilton, hoping for a translation.
“Ma Pa says that I came over you when you was out wanderin’ one evenin,’ Cait’in,” he said.
“Oh, right. Well, that’s almost correct, sir. I was out sitting in ma, ma… sinkhole,” she replied.
“S’n’k’hle?” Pa asked.
“It’s a place I used to go, sir, at night, when I want to be on my lonesome.”
“Remem’er, pa, I told you I was out doin’ some measurin’ for the scien’ist, you know, the land muss, or wha’ever he calls it, and I done see her sinkho’ and out she come,” Shilton told his senile father.
Caitlin studied the old bandit. It was clear that whatever fire he had been burned in had spoiled any chances he had of returning to such a life. Shilton seemed to be looking after his paralysed patriarch, and she thought it sad that one of the finest rebels of his time had been reduced to such a state by the York county council. Renal Shilton had been a hero to those living in Whiplash, and everyone was always delighted when they heard about him successfully pulling off another bank heist or arranging the assassination of an official. Although he probably caused more pain and suffering than that dealt by those he saw as his enemies, he was still an undeniable force in her life and her anger towards York grew even more at seeing the broken down old man, blind and gobble-mouthed.
“Cait’in, I is hidin’ from, them ol’ county types? They thinks they got me. But I damn well still here,” he said with some clarity.
“All right, Pa, you jus’ calm down, now. You get you lunch in a li’l while,” Shilton said, tapping his shoulder. Pa coughed for a while and laid back down while Shilton pulled Caitlin to one side.
“Ma Pa ain’t doin’ too well, Cait’in. I suspec’ he gonna be gone by end o’ the month,” he said.
“You think? What wrong with him?”
“Well, he got burned up pretty bad. I think he done havin’ some chest prob’ems and he keep coughin’ a whole lot.”
“Ain’t there no doctor somewhere among these folks?”
“Yeah, an’ he told me things ain’t lookin’ good for him. He should live to see the ol’ metal prick turn this place on it’s head, though. He tell me that once he seen that, he seen everythin’ and he die in peace, you know?”
“Shilton, can I tell you somethin’ now? It ain’t actually going to flip the whole way round. It only be canted at a 78 degree angle, it won’t fully turn upside down,” she told him.
“I know, the scien’ist told me. I been here for done almos’ a year now, Cait’in. I know this. You jus’ arrived and you telling’ me ’bout it!”
The silence left ample time for Caitlin to muster up the confidence to ask him a very important question.
“Why you bein’ so nice to me and lettin’ me stay?” she asked, dropping her airs for a moment.
“Cause I likes you, Cait’in. I thought you know by now.”
“No, I know,” she replied. She shuddered inside with an adolescent coyness and felt somewhat sorrowful that her circumstances had been so terrible and things had happened this way. If she failed to emerge from the sinkhole that night, she may never have been discovered and would have went sliding with the rest of York when the inverter was activated.
“Come back on over to ma tent, I show where you sleep tonight,” Shilton said.
The scientist cantered past them on his horse and yelled at someone in another tent. Caitlin only understood part of what was being shouted while Shilton practically dragged her to her sleeping area.
“We’re starting in a week and you haven’t prepared this crucial dossier yet!” was among the angry words.
“It probably be delayed,” Caitlin said. Shilton led her by the hand and showed her to her bed, a vaguely sexual glint in his eyes, which were even more out of proportion in the light of day. His eyebrow caressed the tip of his left eye as though a millipede was emerging from his socket. The second brow was situated above the slight bump that adorned his left eye, as though attempting to flee his face.
“Thank you, Shilton,” she said.
He walked away while she sat down in the coruscating heat, her back roasting and sweat moistening her every pore. She was left with the uncomfortable thought that Shilton might try to approach her in a way that she was not prepared for yet. Then again, she knew that day might never come, her being from a different race and all, and instead lay back and absorbed all the Jabberwocky she could see, sprawled out so wondrously before her.
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Curtastrophe reviewed Version 1 -
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The bond between Caitlin and Shilton is strong and shown well. Ahhh . . . Young love. I think that both of their characters and the emotions between them are handled with very tender care. This is obviously a major facet of the story and the time and effort put into rendering it not sappy, but realistic. This could’ve slipped into overly romantic crap. Many kudos for not allowing it to do so.
As for Lewis’s character, I had to warm up to him at first. When he’s first introduced… “If one is oppressed there is little else one can do except hate and hate…” the entire paragraph of dialog almost feels like the author is trying to beat the reader over the head with “a message” or remind the reader of what they should already know. To me, it comes across a little heavy-handed. Also, his constant referring to Caitlin by her name gets a little annoying. She knows he’s talking to her and so does the reader. I don’t think he needs to address her by name in every part of dialog. Perhaps he could use creative nicknames for her. About halfway through when he gets rolling in the mechanics of what’s to come and uses his mad, colorful speech, I felt his character really come out. Excellent! The character is also reminiscent of Willy Wonka. For me, this is a good thing.
Critical Musings and Nitpicking bullshit:
Hmm . . . I’m not sure “torpor” fits as it’s the state of “shutting down” that animals go into due to extreme cold.
As it’s used, “Pa’s” isn’t a proper noun. I’d suggest, “…puke. It was Pa’s.” In the next sentence either, ““Ah, I see.” or “Well, I un’erstan’.” could be used, but probably not both as they’re saying the same exact thing.
the full extent of her / the depth of her
A suggestion, “…but his smile put her in an ease she had not known the previous evening.” This cuts out the redundant “in his presence” and I think clarifies the emotion. Charring? Ouch.
I got lost for a moment because C descended the ladder, then she saw Shilton. I’m taking it that he was waiting at the bottom for her, but then they walk past the tents to find his dad. I guess I’m confused it she came back up, or if there are tents located in the pit where drill is digging.
Again, “Pa”. If the sentence read, “this is where ma Father and me is stayin’” I think the capitalization would be incorrect. Nitpick award of the year!
A suggestion, “…from the posters nailed up on city walls…”
“asked quietly.”/”replied humbly.”/” replied vacantly.” The adverb quota is filling up! Body language IMO can be a great substitute for these. Or “she asked, her voice quiet.” But of course, to each writer their own.
“…protruding from his poky mouth…” This is a great sentence.
A suggestion, “Clues to Lewis’s background…”
Instead of “…sitting within his bones…” the narrative could make mention to him being a puppet, or a marionette.
“…she had been nurturing visions of a full 180 degree flip.” Ha!
I like the barely decipherable voice of Shilton’s father.
Despite my criticisms, this was my favorite installment of the story so far. And your going to stop posting them? Aargh! Having read all of them I feel a kinship with Caitlin, Shiltion, Lewis, and company. They’ve become slightly familiar and it’s been enjoyable seeing the story progress. Maybe if you decide to post the next chapter, someone will finally either ask or explain why Lewis is planning to flip the town. But then again, that’s the secret, eh? Great work. Hope you see this to the end even if your slightly anonymous readers don’t have the chance to for a coupla whiles. Take care.
-Curt
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DCAllen reviewed Version 1 -
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The relationship between Caitlin and Shilton is taking on form in this chapter nicely. This would be intensified if the narrator were allowed to describe Shilton from Caitlin’s POV more.
There could be even more stress on Lewis Carroll here. Maybe even a little Jabberwocky? We get the sense of a diabolical scientist hell-bent on his experiment, but I could we see a stronger connection to the literary figure?
Particulars:
Yes, I knew the man . . . (This sounds like a reply to a question that has not been asked.)
Since Caitlin has asked explicitly why the scientist wants to flip the county, it seems odd that he says “you may still be wondering . . .”. I think this dialogue would benefit from a shave.
Did he come over in 1860 or in 1858? The syntax of the the 1858 sentence leads the reader to believe that he “set foot in York” in 1858. If this is not true, I would move the date closer to the train ride in the sentence.
Proofreading notes:
“Hi there Shilton,” (insert comma before Shilton)
Pa’s = pa’s (Use upper case only when substituted for a name. Same with you’ Ma = ma. Think of it like you’re using the words mother and father. You wouldn’t capitalize these words either.)
Also, I think I’ve said this before, but ma Pa is odd simply because ma is the spelling you’re using for mother in the text.
had been previous evening (typo?)
wizened = wizen (wizened is OK, but wizen is the already the adjectival form)
genius and he (insert comma before conjunction)
you young Caitlin = you, young Caitlin, . . .
world, Caitlin and (comma after Caitlin)
mealy-mouthed = mealymouthed (at least in AmEng) Also, this word means that she is hesitant to express her opinion. Is this what you mean?
180 degree flip = 180-degree
she keep a friendly smile = kept ??
“Remem’er, pa, (This is where Pa should be upper-case.)
laid back down = lay
on it’s head = its
hypatia reviewed Version 1 -
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I thoroughly enjoyed reading this and the previous chapters. Thank you.
The only critique I have to offer is that the double mention of two of the most popular of Lewis’s stories seemed a trifle contrived. In the previous chapters the reader has to read between the lines and deduces the subtle clues coming up with the Lewis conclusion, feeling good about himself. Perhaps you could add a more obscure title which would add weight to the scientist’s breadth of knowledge. Or not, your writing skills are highly developed, always a joy to read.
I love the conviction of Lewis’s character, he truly is the mad scientist. The introduction of Shilton’s dad is well thought out and adds another distinct quirky character you portray him very well. Caitlan retains her innocent quality and balances out the many male ego’s on show. Love her personality and dialect.
Below may or may not be of any use is an alteration of sentences to give a more active voice. The original words are equally as good. Just wanted to give you something.
his presence than she had been (the) previous evening.
Then she curtseyed and exited the marquee.
The scientist stayed in the marque. His face bore a guarded grin and he retained the same detached,
her stomach that made her feel queasy.
She felt that what the scientist was doing was the most rational response to the state of his creation.
oknapp reviewed Version 1 -
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I have read every chapter. You turned me into urbis a couple of times. I will do the best i can. It’s different. I will say that. The title is excellent.
, your language is very southern I have no qualms about it. My family comes from Southeastern Ky. Do you worry about the sterotypical characterization? You have country people talking in long Syllables.This might be somewhat stylistic. If it were me, i would tone the language down somewhat. Also buck teeth and so on. Although it is kind of funny. i can picture this character.
The last time i said something about Catilin carrying Pa’s jar of puke you turned me in to urbis. All i wanted to know was why she did this I know people are strange and Caitlin is somewhat strange but i find her a little pitiful too. Ma gave her such a hard time in the first chapters.
“was taken aback by his face which showed a lifetime of heavy drinking and brawling. How what was it about his face that showed this? Was it lined? The readers might need specifics. Misogamy is very important. Readers get a feel for the character when their faces are described well.
“The thought that her Ma might actually survive bothered her a great deal. Vey funny.” I like this line very much.
Your vocabulary is very intelligent.Your grammer, save for pa and Caitlin’s southern accent is excellent. This is almost like real literature. I have read similar things in my classes. The work itself has many underlying themes: hackyned, uneducated, pitifulness. Caitlin,though hackyned is very smart and is a bit of a utilitarian. I read this very closely. I feel i owed you that. I see nothing i would change about it. The story is unsual, the characters stand out and make the reader take notice. This is the most important element in a work. Good luck. I will keep up with the chapters. Sandi
“
KARussell reviewed Version 1 -
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In response to your main question, I think Lewis is a little underwritten. Rather than a solid chunk of exposition where he explains how he came to be involved with such a crazy scheme, try having him reminisce, talking more to himself than his guest. That way, it won’t come across as such an infodump and you can give a better idea of how Lewis sees himself. I also think the idea of him as the ghost of Lewis Carrol is a bit too much considering Caitlin’s reading material – Maybe if he was going by his original name of Dodgeson it would be more subtle – A nod to the readers who can tie the two names together straightaway but still a potential surprise down the line for those who don’t.
Overall though, I enjoyed this. Some of the odd dialects seemed to come and go, with Shilton especially veering from perfect clarity to near incomprehensibility, but that might just be me not having read the earlier chapters and getting used to the patterns of his speech. If further chapters appear I’d be happy to see them – The whole concept of the inverter would draw me back and keep me reading.
CelestialAlchemist reviewed Version 1 -
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i must admit…I’m a little lost as to what exactly is occuring in this work. From the summarry you so kindly provided, the year is 1913 and a gigantic drill is about to be used in order to tilt an entire town a certain angle? Why exactly? And is this in anyway relative to steampunk?
This wizened old genius fellow seems a bit out of his head and yet a rather distinguished fellow. I do sense relations to Lewis Carroll’s works besides the Alice In Wonderland the character Caitilin is reading, how the message of making sense and finding logic in a chaotic mad world and all…with Caitilin reflecting Alice and the scientist also named Lewis Carroll who carries hints of the Mad Hatter and the Chesire Cat with his mysterious appeal and curious manner.
I like the distinct speech pattern and the way you spelled it out for Shikton’s dad. It sounded like an overexaggerated Southern accent that Shilton himself has…or did you intend to be some sort of European accent, like a Cocnkey? Either your intention, it came across clear enough. Is the father’s speech due to age or this incident where he was burned and if i am correct somewhat disfigured?
Here and there you could use some fragmenting of your sentences as i start to feel a bit choked from the overuse of words here and there.For example:
Returning to Shilton’s tent, she felt a strange spiritual disturbance in her that made her queasy. Like a sharp punch in the gut from God for supporting a man who was so blatantly unbalancing his universe. She ignored this feeling however, as she knew that God was the one who had created this unbalanced universe as far as she could see.And what she saw the scientist was doing was the most rational response to the state of His creation. By the time she had returned, Shilton’s Pa had woken and seeing him up and about was more than mildly disconcerting. With cadaverous lineaments, grilled brown skin and malformed features, he resembled the product of a filthy backwater gene pool.
I shortened some of the ongoing sentences by fragmenting them. A few less comma,some joining words here and there with a more frequent use of periods. To me, the sentence reads easier and smoother.
I like the insert diagram here. If your piece was in print, there would be a hand drawn diadram seen in young adult books like Harry Potter or other titles I cannot remember. I sense that the setting currently is some underground shantytown similar to expedition team in Diisney’s Atlantis…and the ppl inhabiting it are altered humans or a seperate race entirely…
Anyway, i’ll be sure to read your other pieces to give better reviews in the future…ohh—-why are some of the characters peonouncing words like this?
ex-plain-ing instead of explaining
This work is magical and mysterious with a flare of scientific steampunk and old noir.
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