Sci Fi & Fantasy / Chapter 1 of my fantasy story
Chapter one: Toran
A small blue feathered Fain flew over a spring forest. It flew North towards the white peaked mountains that seemed to cover up the horizon itself. The mountains were beautiful, especially at this time of year. From where the tree line ends to near the snow caps of the mountains thick grass grew and faded away near the top. The grass have the bottom of the mountain a green hazy look from the distance. Oddly enough the bird flew directly towards the mountains, the Fain are fragile birds. It will certainly die if it continues. The small bird swooped down and flew closer to the trees, the trees below the bird gave way to grassy plains and eventually a small town. The town wasn’t much, it had dusty streets and aged buildings that seemed as if they were going to fall over at any moment…The city was, Toran.
John looked up as he walked through the dusty streets of Toran, his hazel eyes scanning the clouds above. Usually he would be pushing hair out of his face every few seconds, but his ma practically held him down so she could cut it. As long as he lived under her roof he would have to abide by her rules, and he hated it. Suddenly he heard someone screaming “WATCH WHERE YOUR GOIN’ LAD!!”, apparently he was being yelled at for a few seconds but he just didn’t pay any attention to the noise till now. It took him a second but he eventually realized it was aimed towards him. By the time John could look down he had already ran into whoever was screaming at him. A little old man nearly fell over trying to get a grip of the crate he was carrying, he tried to hold on to it but he lost his grip and he dropped it. They both jumped back as the crate fell and busted open sending potatoes soaring through the air. John scrambled to his feet and began to hurriedly pick up them up, his face now red with embracement. Apologizing as he picked them up “I’m sorry Mr. Haswell I was just umm..” He fumbled to say as he picked up more from the ground. The old man pulled himself up and began to dust himself off and said in an angry tone “you need to pay more attention to where yer’ goin boy!”.
A young girl not much younger than John came running up from behind the old man, she wore a white apron over her blue dress that was covered with flowers delicately sewn into it. A bonnet covered her blond curls that would usually be hanging below her ears. “Pa? What happened?” she asked just noticing the potatoes “Oh..” she said silently as she knelt to pick ed one up. As she stood back up she came face to face with John doing the same. Her brown eyes met his as their faces were only inches apart. She immediately pulled back trying to cover her light blush. “Hello John…” she said innocently. John straightened up and said in a surprised tone “Oh Mornin Miss Jacqueline,” the only time John called her Miss was when her father was around. Otherwise he would just call her Jacqueline. Mr. Haswell grabbed her arm and pulled her away before she could respond saying “Come on girl we’ve gotta get these potatoes to the shop before there’s a crowd.” Which there rarely was, he was always in a hurry though. He stopped and took the potatoes from John, which he had forgotten all about there for a while. Jacqueline turned back towards John and said “Bye, oh yeah the others are at the edge of the forest if your looking for them…” she was cut off by her father’s grumbling. John waved to her then looked down at the broken crate, he considered picking it up but…He just stepped over it and continued walking. John looked up into the air one last time, this time he saw a small blue bird flying low over the town. “hm” he said to himself then continued walking.
The edge of the forest came into view soon after John stepped around the last white plastered building, it had a large sign hanging over the door that read “The Kings Bard”. Music could be heard from the inside of the building, but John ignored it and continued. Two people were sitting around the edge of the tree line, both were perched on stumps where massive oak trees had been. The two kids sat laughing and talking to each other like they usually did. One of them was Abba Schellden, she was just like one of the guys, always running around and playing the rough games the boys played. She was often ridiculed for it also. Her long blond hair hung over her face covering her light blue eyes. She was a few years older that John but he still was several inches taller than her, he was almost the tallest person in the village. The other person sitting on a separate stump was a young lad named Maarten Haynes, he was the son and the apprentice of the local blacksmith. Needless to say he was quite strong, even though he was rather short no one would want to spar with him. Usually Madelynn Badeau would be with them, Maarten had always had feelings for her but never really told anyone. John began to wonder where she was, but pushed it out of his head and continued. He made his way over to the others, taking a seat beside Maarten. Maarten looked over at John said “Oi, look who it is. You know Jacqueline came by here a bit ago, looking for you,” as if it amused him “I’m telling ya, you should court her, before someone else does. That’s if Mr. Haswell doesn’t have your head first”. Abba abruptly gave a quiet giggle, and said “Boys…” silently. “What’s that supposed to mean?” John asked accusingly. As if suppressing another laugh she said “nothing..”.
They spoke of random nonsense like all other children of their age did until the sun touched the horizon, John stretched out his arms and stood up and asked out loud “Wow we’ve been out here for a while haven’t we?”. Maarten who was now laying back on the stump with his arms crossed and looking up at the sky said “yeah, but Pa gave me the day off for shoeing his horse this morning. Its harder than it looks”. Abba had got up and left earlier, her fathers farm was quite a bit off so she had to leave early to get there before dark. Maarten sat up and got off the stump, “Well Id better get some rest, probably got a lot of work to do in the morning. I suppose Ill see you tomorrow then, goodbye.” he said in a tired voice as he walked off towards Toran. John waved goodbye and stood looking at the sky for a few moments. A chill ran up his spine as the wind blew, the trees around him waved in the wind. “Time to retire I suppose” he said yawning. John didn’t really live to far away, his father was the village’s master carpenter so he had to live inside the city. They lived on the edge of the town, where they got most of their business from. He started walking and about half way to the village John began to feel as if he was being watched, he shivered and felt nervous. Slowly he turned around to see if anyone was there, there was no one. Nothing but trees. Someone was there ,he could feel it. He had no intention of going to check out the woods, so he continued back towards the town but at a quicker pace than before. Afraid to turn around, afraid something would be there this time.
*
Jacqueline followed her father home, she watched as he opened up the small purse of coins he had gotten for the potatoes. A breeze came in from the north making the air seem much cooler, she crossed her arms under her breasts and shivered a little. Her dress rippled in the wind as she continued to walk. Fortunately their farm was in the town, the only one that wasn’t at least a mile away. The whole time she was at the market she could think of nothing but John. Ever since she was a little girl she always admired him, but she usually kept that side of her hidden deep down. In Toran it was highly unladylike for a woman to court a man, but sometimes the gave it thought. She didn’t notice she was blushing as she walked until her father looked back to make sure she was following and said “Lass I’ve seen flowers with less color than you, what’s on your mind?”. Jacqueline just shook her head and said “Nothing Pa, just a little cold”.
As Jacqueline and her father walked across the dusty streets of Toran she watched the buildings around her half waiting for something to jump out at her. Ever since the breeze picked up she had been expecting something, but she did not know what. Every pace they walked Jacqueline would look back and nothing, she did it all the way home. Her father pulled open the oak door that let out a warmth that engulfed her as she stood on the doorstep. She looked back once more then stepped inside. Inside there was a large rug spread out across the room, the rug led from the door to the fireplace on the opposite side of the room. A little old lady sat in an old rocking chair placed beside to the fireplace , staring into the flames lost in thought. The closing of the door pulled her out of her train of thought, the lady got up and greeted her husband. They exchanged words Jacqueline couldn’t hear over the crackling of the fire. The ladies name was Mary, she had grown up with Jacqueline’s father and married him by the age of twenty three. But that was a long time ago, she had hair like her daughters but with a more pale complexion. She looked over Mr. Haswell’s shoulder at Jacqueline and said “Bathe before you go to bed girl..” in a bossy tone. She had never really liked Jacqueline as much as her big brother, everything she did paled in comparison to him. Well that’s how her mother saw it. Jacqueline’s brother was a soldier, he was rarely home and when he was it wasn’t for long. Jacqueline just nodded and said in a respectful tone “yes ma’am”. She began to walk into the next room but was caught off guard by her mother’s word “Your brother is coming home soon”, and all she could say was “That is nice” it was the only thing that came to mind. Obviously she was not very fond of her brothers visits. Before she could leave the room her mother let out an angry growl and said “You watch your tone girl”. Jacqueline stopped walking and turned around “I wasn’t taking a….” she tried to explain herself but she was cut off by her mothers yell “DON’T ARGUE WITH ME GIRL! AS LONG AS YOU LIVE IN THIS HOUSE YOU WILL ABIDE BY MY RULES!”. The whole time Mr. Haswell just stood there not wanting to get into the fight, Jacqueline grew angry she didn’t like to have people yell at her especially for no reason “WHATS THE POINT OF ME STAYING HERE THEN!? All you care about is Mathew! Maybe I should just leave!”. There was silence in the room for a moment but it was broken by her mother’s quiet toned voice “Maybe you should…”. Tears grew in Jacqueline’s eyes as she turned around and opened the door, looking back at her father then leaving. Mr. Haswell finally said Wait Jac….” but it was to late, she had already left.
Jacqueline could hear the angry voice of her father coming from the house as she left, “why didn’t he do anything..” she said to herself shivering in the cold. She made her way over to the small grassy area between the Iusti’s house and the old shop, the owners of the shop were long gone just not enough business in a small town like this. The area is where her and her friends used to play as children, when she finally reached it the air had grown colder. She sat down in the grassy area and tried to get warm by hugging her knees. Another tear slid down her cheek as she sat there in the moonlight.
* *
John sat on his bed resting his head on his duck feather pillow as he carved into a small piece of wood with a knife he often carried with him just in case of an emergency. While attempting to cut a straight line he pushed the blade to hard and it popped up off of the piece of wood and slid across the surface of his thumb. Blood trickled out of the cut as he dropped the piece of wood and stuck his thumb in his mouth. He stood up and walked across the small square rug on the floor of his small room. As he turned for the door he noticed something outside of his window, removing his thumb he looked outside and tried to make out the dark figure. John set down the knife and went into the den, both of his parents were sleeping by now so he had to be quiet. As quickly as he could John grabbed a lit candle off of the small cabinet and the long sword that sat on the mantle above the furnace. The sword was pretty much decoration but John figured it would still be of use. He silently opened up the front door and crept out heading for the side of the house where he saw the figure outside of his window. As he rounded the corner of his house he noticed something shivering huddled up against the wall of his house “Hello?” he asked quietly. Who ever it was didn’t make an attempt to run, they just looked at him. John could feel their eyes staring. The light from John’s candle flickered as he raised it to see who it was “Jacqueline?” he said curiously as he took a step closer to her and lowering the sword. She stood up and wiped something from her face, in a quiet and fearful voice she said “John? I am sorry if I woke you”. John shook his head and walked over to her, “Oh no I wasn’t asleep yet, what are you doing out here so late?” he asked. Jacqueline wiped of her face again and said “I’m just having some trouble with my mother…again”. John looked down then back up her “Well come in, It is a bit to cold to be out here” he said and led her around the corner then opened the door for her, the warm air blasted them as the door opened. After waiting for her to come in John closed the door and set the sword in the corner, “I am sorry..” he said quietly. Jacqueline wiped a tear stream from her face, so that’s why she wiped her face off so often outside John thought to himself. She smiled and said “No its fine”. “Well If you want you can stay here for the night, its better than being out there in the freezing cold” John said setting the candle back where he got it from then walked back to where his room was, it was also lit by a candle sitting on his dresser. “Well this is my room, I suppose you can stay in here tonight. I mean if you want of course”. Jacqueline giggled and walked back towards John “Thank you for all you are doing”. Then she caught John off guard by standing on the tips of her toes to give him a peck on the cheek and a hug “Good night” she said walking into his room and closing the door behind her. John smiled and walked back into the den again, he laid down beside the furnace warming up and after a short period of time he drifted into a deep sleep.
John was awoken by his father, his father was a tall man like him but much skinnier and balder.. The man wore brown unlaced shirt with wide cuffs at the ends of each sleeve. John’s mother had made his father leggings, as well as the shirt. She was a skilled seamstress. John‘s father said “Wake up, get up boy” he said giving John a light kick to the side. His father noticed he was awake and went out the door. John sat up rubbing his eyes and stretching out his arms. After a few moments he remembered why he was sleeping on the floor, so he made his way across to den walking up the door to his room. Outside the sun was just rising, by this time most farmers were awake so he figured the same would be true for Jacqueline. Her father wasn’t exactly a famous farmer but he was well known in the town for his potatoes. John sometime laughed at that. After laughing silently to himself he knocked on the door to his room and heard a rustling noise from inside. A few seconds later Jacqueline pulled the door open and said “oh good morning John, you know you don’t have to knock. Its your room after all”. John grinned and replied “I trust you slept well? And…” he was cut off by a voice coming from behind him “Oh hello Jacqueline, good morning” . John nearly leapt out of he boots when he heard the voice . He turned around to see a woman not quite as tall as him but with similar facial features. Her hair was pulled back into one braid as she usually wore it. As John calmed down he said “Ma, you startled me. Wait, you knew Jacqueline was here?”. His mother smiled and said “Yes, I heard you two last night.”. Jacqueline walked up between them and said “I just want to thank you both, I think I will go back to my farm and try to patch things up with my mother” then she headed for the door. John’s mother said as Jacqueline left “No problem dear, anytime you need housing we will be here”. Jacqueline looked back and smiled as she walked out the door that John’s father had left open. It was a lot warmer now than it was last night,”. John’s mother turned to him “and you have chores come with me…”. John just sighed and followed obediently.
*
Maarten sat on a small wooden bench, his face now covered with sweat. The sweat glimmered in the light of the rising sun that was coming through the open door to the shop, they extinguished the candles only minutes ago. He wore thick heavy leather gloves and a brown apron over his average light green sleeveless shirt and leggings. His leather boots were tattered and felt like they were filled with sweat. He and his father had been awake for an hour or so already, they had a large order of barrel rings put in the day before. A tall man walked into the room with Maarten, the man had a bushy unshaven beard and was wearing the same uniform as Maarten was wearing. The mans arms were unbelievably muscular, he looked as if he had no fat on him at all. Blacksmiths usually looked like that, well the good ones did. “Come on Maarten brakes over. These rings aren’t going to make themselves” the man said in a boomingly low voice. Maarten jumped off of the stool and followed his him into the next room that seemed to pour out heat. Inside the next room were two fires that made the room extremely hot, unless you were used to it of course. He sat down and continued the ring he had been working on before he took his brake. The ring was almost finished except for he had to seal the two ends together. Maarten reached down beside his anvil and pulled up a large hammer that his father made for him a few years back. He now stood over the anvil, hammering the seal into the two ends of the unfinished ring. He started slow but picked up more speed as he hammered the piece of steel into a ring. When he was done the seam was white with heat, he reached down to where his hammer had been and pulled up a pair of tombs. Maarten slowly picked the ring up with them and dipped it into a large barrel of water. After letting the ring sit in the brown murky water for a few seconds he pulled it up. It was almost perfect, the best he’s done today, or ever for that matter. It didn’t have any jagged edges that he could see, nor did it have an uneven width. He stood there stareing at the ring , sometimes it seemed hard to imagine that long strip of steel being transformed into a ring like this. Maarten caught himself smiling as he observed the ring.
Maarten’s father walked across the plain stone floor to where Maarten was standing. “Nice job lad! HAHA” he said patting him on the shoulder. “Couldn’t have done better meself my boy” he said looking at the ring his son was holding. Maarten grinned and looked up at his father and said “Ah but if I could only do this every time”. The big man laughed aloud, his voice seemed to echo throughout the building as he said “Boy if you could do this every time id be out of a job, haha..” then after a short period of silence he told Maarten “Come with me boy, I want to show you something” and walked out of the room. Maarten got up, put down the ring, and followed his father into the next room. This room was filled his fathers finest work. Swords, Shields, Axes, even armor and many more thing all hung up on the walls. The floor had a long red rug across it that seemed to be part of the room. At the very back wall in the hall was a tall frame, on it was a portrait of a woman. It was drawn on solid white paper, and for some reason it didn’t seem to have aged at all. The woman in the portrait had long black hair and a beautiful face, she wore a long dress that women usually only wore at a wedding or a ball, which there weren’t many of either in the small town. Maarten’s father led him to the picture and stopped a few feet away from it. “Ahh……your mother” the big man said quietly. Maarten stopped right behind him and took a step around his father. Maarten’s father sighed and said “You know, if your mother were alive today she would be very proud of you. I just wish she was here to see you now, she always knew you would do well”. Maarten looked down at the floor and wiped a tear that had streaked down as he listened to his father, memories of his mother flowed back into his head. He wished he could see his mother again, she used to sing as she cooked. And every time she did he would sit on the floor and just listen to her. In Maarten’s head he heard her voice again, singing the lullaby he always asked her to sing when he was a child. Mr. Haynes shook his head and looked down at his son “I need you to look over the shop for a while, I will be heading out of town for a day or two”. Maarten just nodded, he knew if he asked why his father would just say “Business”. His father turned and left leaving Maarten standing there watching his boots.
His father looked back at his son as he left the room and the building. Maarten turned around and headed for the door back to the workshop but stopped and looked at the wall to his left. On it hung a large silver polished war hammer, he reached up and pulled it off of the wall. The light from several candles that lit up the room reflected on the weapon. He took the hammer from the wall and headed outside passing through the workshop and the shop where they sold their work and took orders in to make something specific. Once outside Maarten noticed the horse that was tied up to the front of the building was gone. His father mush have taken it, he didn’t figure his father would leave so soon but apparently he had work to do elsewhere also. Maarten hefted the weapon up and held it up admiring the way it shined in the sunlight. To anyone else the hammer would be quite heavy, but he was a blacksmith, he had to be strong.
He swung the hammer through the air and almost lost control of it. The hammer moved through the air as if it were a sword it seemed just as swift and just as deadly. Maarten heard laughter coming from somewhere, then he noticed a man watching him swing the hammer. The man had moved to Toran a few years back after serving in the military in another city. Even though he was aged he still knew a thing or two about fighting. “Oh hello Mr. Robert”. After he was done laughing the man said “Hello lad, where is your father”. Maarten shook his head and replied “He’s out of town doing business, can I help you?”. The man said “Nah, I was just wanting to talk to him about something we discussed a while back. Try separating your hands and bringing them together at the bottom of the handle as you swing, you’ll get more power that way”. Maarten looked at the hammer and waited a moment, he raised the hammer and did as the man said. This time he almost lost his balance again, Robert laughed again and said “That’s it that’s it, keep trying.” as he watched Maarten continue to swing.
*
Several miles away from Toran a small farm house surrounded by open pasture was just waking up to the noise of the rooster that was perched on a fence post. Abba awoke in her small room, all she had in the room was a washstand , a dresser to hold her clothes, and a small bed just big enough for her to be able to sleep comfortably on. She got out of her bed and removed her shift that she usually slept in, then walked over to the washstand and began to use a small piece of lavender scented soap to wash her face. As she washed her face her mother walked into the room carrying a folded dress in her arms. Abba washed the soup from her face and turned to her mother who didn’t seem to pay much attention to her daughter standing there in the nude. “Your father saw this nice dress at the shop in town this morning when he went to see the blacksmith about the barrel rings he ordered. They’re almost all done he said”. As her mother spoke, Abba picked up the dress and unfolded it. It was light blue with pink seams. Her mother said “Do you like it? He said it matched your eyes. It does”. Abba smiled and hugged her mother, she was actually quite thrilled by the new dress. Her mother laughed and walked to the door, and as she was leaving she stopped and said in a humorous tone “And girl, put on some clothes will you?”. Abba jumped and tried to cover herself with her arms. It was funny for some reason she didn’t notice she was naked while her mother was in there. She closed the door after her mother and tried on the dress. It was a bit tight but she liked it.
As Abba walked down the wooden stairs leading to the first floor of the farm house she began to smell the aroma of eggs and bacon. It made her a bit sad that she wouldn’t see Betsy again but her hunger drove that out of her. Betsy had been the pig that her father had kept in the barn outside separated from the other pigs. Abba often went out to see the pig, usually once a day at least. When she was a little girl she had watched her father kill a pig, and she couldn’t get the image out of her head for weeks. But now she has gotten over it. Her mother was in the kitchen with two plates set out for her and Abba. Apparently her father had already eaten earlier. Abba came down the stair passing through the warm den that was quite plain with only a few chairs and a furnace. As soon as she stepped foot into the kitchen her mother handed her a plate with a few pieces of bacon and an egg on it. “Thank you” Abba said, her mother smiled said in a complementing tone “The dress is beautiful”. Abba grinned and replied “It is isn’t it”. They both sat at the little table in the corner of the kitchen and ate together, conversing about the past few years and how its gone by quick.
After they ate Abba went outside to look for her father, she saw him across the farm sitting on the fence watching the cows. She ran across the grassy field that the cows usually grazed in, she jumped over rocks and small holes in the ground until she was by her father. He hopped off the fence and looked Abba over “It does match your eyes” he said smiling. Abba ran to him and wrapped her arms around his neck thanking him as she hugged him. She thanked her father once again and headed for the town, her parents knew that she’d be going there she always does.
A young girl sat in the forest watching birds fly by, she wore a band that pulled her long black back out of her face and the close a boy would usually wear to work. Her leggings and laced shirt almost blended into the grass she laid in. She often came out here to get away from her father, he was always giving her orders “Madelynn do this Madelynn do that..” she said to herself making fun of her father. He was the mayor of Taron and could get a bit bossy at times. As she watched two birds fly into the trees one chasing another she yawn and stretched out on the ground. Slowly she closed her eyes and dosed off there on the ground.
* *
Jade Carter sat in a old chair with her two children in her lap, both were only infants. Jade was in her middle ages now, her husband works miles away and still sends gold for her and the children. She had her brown hair pulled up in a messy bun, with two children she rarely found time for herself so she didn’t usually bother trying to make her hair look nice. Her house only consisted of three rooms, one for her to sleep in, one for the children and the den, where she usually cooked. She usually just wore a plain grey dress and sometime wore a bonnet. Ever since the children were born she hadn’t gotten hardly any sleep, sometimes she wished her husband would come home to help her but she knew that wouldn’t happen. He had good work out there and if he came back they would be living in poverty. She sat the children down on the wooden floor so they could crawl around a little and walked over to the single window in the den. Outside everything seemed calm, she noticed something coming up on the road to Toran. She had a good view of the road from her house. Jade squinted to see what it was, her eyes got wider. Bells began to ring all around Toran, something was wrong.
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Reviews
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It’s a really good, descriptive story.
The very first paragraph reminded me an introduction to a movie or something like that.
I wouldn’t exactly call this segment of your story a ‘chapter’ seeing as how it’s just an introduction of characters.
Other than grammatical and spelling errors [including separation of dialogue], you have a really interesting idea.
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I wish I could give a better review to you. Your story right now is one solid brick of text, its hard to get into without being intimidated by your bad formatting. I know its tough to hear but it is something you can fix. Each time a charchter speaks it is in its own paragraph. That is the first step. I would also recommend deciding on one point of view. You switch from gods mode to first person and back again. Even when your talking about your charchter you arent showing me what he is feeling, you are telling me.. Use your words to make the charchter come alive. You don’t want a narritive you want a living breathing world that a reader can immerse themself in. I think that is the best advice I can give you. I am still learning myself, but that is the first thing I was told when I posted my story on the myspace forums the first time. I hope this has helped you. Be well!
I think I remember reviewing this last time. The paragraphs are still massive … you need to break them up more. Every line on dialouge should be it’s own paragraph. Also, punctuation marks need to be inside of the quotations.
Good: She said, “I’m sad.”
Bad: She said, “I’m sad”.
I can see that you’ve corrected it some. But I can still see a lot of occurances of those types of errors, and you paragraphs are still huge. I strongly suggest breaking down the paragraphs to make it more readable.
I would encourage you to go back and indent your dialogue. Not only is this a standard writing technique, it also provides clarity for the reader. It’s just more professional.
The small bird swooped down and flew closer to the trees, the trees below the bird gave way to grassy plains and eventually a small town. You’ve got yourself a coma splice here. Either stick a period in the middle of that sentence (i’d recommend that) or stick in a semi-colon.
You’ve got a lot of characters in your first chapter. I would encourage you to be careful with introducing so many people almost all at once. The reader needs to be eased into the story-not thrown into it.
Otherwise, I think you’re doing well. You’re writing style is well formed. I look forward to seeing more.
You do very well in describing your image of this story, I can see the picture clearly in my mind as I read. So far I cant find anything wrong, this makes me want to go back and read the rest of your story.
Quite honestly, this piece was difficult for me to read. The flow of writing is clipped off and broken as I read it. For a first chapter, it doesn’t grab my attention the way I’d expect a novel to. The first chapter of a novel will make a person continue to flip pages, or toss the book aside.
Setting the mood in the town or of a particular character often helps in smoothing out the reading.
Best of luck to you!
grass have the bottom.. I think have should be gave
It took him a second but.. although different this is kind of repetitive of the last line. Maybe reword both , the one before it and that one, to be one sentence.
grip of the.. of should be on I think
I wouldn’t use the same word grip twice in one sentence.
potatoes soaring through the air… instead of soaring maybe rolled out like an avalanche? Soaring just doest seem right for a potato.
A young girl(,) not much younger than John(,)
3rd par.. she asked just noticing.. there are some punctuation missing here. You may want to think about breaking this line up.
John sat on his bed(,) resting his head on his duck feather pillow(,) as he carved into a small piece of wood. I would drop the part about carrying the knife.
I’m seeing a lot of comma work and such that needs to be done. But the real problem lies within the details. I’m not talking about describing things but life details. There is just so much of it. Don’t tke this the wrong way but you could condense all this info down to about 1800 words. The story would move a lot quicker and you wouldn’t feel like you are being overwhelmed with too many details.
You have created lives and back story bt you just neeed to let us find it out more slowly.
Anthony
1. First the fat: Your descriptions are great, but I’m afraid it is too much. Forgive the cheesy comparison, but the steak with the most fat has the best flavor, but you trim off the fat before you eat it. So far your story has much fat trimming ahead of it. However, once it gets where it needs to be, you are going to have one mighty tasty story. Revise, revise, revise.
2. In the beginning, there were mountains, grass, birds, and a town. The momentum is stop-and-go; the mountains are staitionary, then the birds are in motion, then the town is stationary again. Since it is the opener, my suggestion would be to fly in the birds first and have us follow them over the mountains to the town. It suggests motion and progresses us from our world into yours.
3. The dialog is pretty good, and whether it was your intent or not, after the first few lines of dialog your characters took on an Irish flavor in my mind. Nice.
4. Two plausibility issues made me wince during the read: a) The old lady in the rocking chair lost her “train” of thought—too modern of a word, snaps us out of your world back into ours. b) The major breach of etiquette for Jaqueline fleeing to John’s house. THEN John brings her into the house! Again, much too modern of a concept. In those times I think family matters stayed in the family, no matter how bad they may have been. Though, there are always exceptions to the rule, but I think it would be more appropriate for John’s parents to wake and make sure Jaqueline and John crash in separate rooms.
That’s all for now. I am wondering where the story is going, but I am looking forward to the next installment.
SS
The plot, or what I can see of it, looks fine. The story works, as does the character of John. I liked the end with the ringing bell. It’s a good touch for suspense to keep the reader engaged in the next chapter.
Now for the rough stuff:
The first thing I will say is try to avoid having your voice poke through. I don’t want to hear the omniscient author explain things, especially in the opening of a chapter. A chapter should also begin with a hook, and talking about a bird just doesn’t do it.
Example of author’s voice:
Oddly enough the bird flew directly towards the mountains, the Fain are fragile birds. It will certainly die if it continues.
Who exactly is it oddly enough to? Or that it will certainly die? Furthermore, what does the Fain have to do with anything? You are using it as a device, so don’t waste a lot of words on it. Say it clean and get out.
That brings me to your descriptions. This is a personal preference, but I want to read original descriptions, concrete ones that engage me. Some of yours do not.
Examples:
his hazel eyes
his face now red with embracement
young girl not much younger
was a few years older that John but he still was several inches taller than her
Also, you do not need to add said to dialogue tags if it is clear that who is speaking.
Example:
The old man pulled himself up and began to dust himself off and said in an angry tone “you need to pay more attention to where yer’ goin boy!”.
Better:
The old man pulled himself up and began to dust himself off. “You need to pay more attention to where yer’ goin boy!”.
Don’t use caps. If you want anger to show, use exclamation marks (but not constantly) or tags, like angrily or exclaimed.
Couple of edits:
Fortunately(,) their
court a man, but sometimes the (they?)gave it thought
The ladies (lady’s) name
Obviously(,) she was not very – plus who is it obvious too? It seems like the author poking into the story.
another she yawn(,) and
One more thing, dialogue needs it’s own paragraph. Use a new one when the speaker changes.
I hope this helps.
This version was much better, it seem like you took your time and let your creative juices flow. much better.
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