Shielded Land: Chapter 2 (1 of 2) (322 hits)
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Submitted by Registered_S_O (View user info) at 2008-03-05 10:36:34 EST
(I graciously thank bart for the unban)
Chapter 2
Everywhere he looked, Minska saw carnage. His entire world was turned upside down as he saw the peaceful town he grew up in blazing like the fires of Bakineas' lair. The potters' shop, the flower shop run by the kindest of elderly women, even the blacksmiths forge were all set aflame in the early morning sunlight. There were smoldering ruins of homes with only ashes and scorched ground left to mark that anything had ever been there.
People Minska knew, loved even, were running through the streets in frightful panic, unable to make sense of all the chaos. A couple of buildings with fires only newly formed had barricades of wagon beds and broken wine barrels. In a daze, Minska could faintly make out the pounding of those doors from the inside. The wails of children further in town where Minska couldn't see sent shards of cold fear through him.
"Come on Minska," Mikalik growled, helping a wobbly Minska to his feet "let's get that wreckage out of the way."
With his state of shock turning into a red hot ember of rage, Minska wasted no more time as he quickly followed Mikalik to the first doomed house. He and Mikalik had to dodge around the chard bodies of people they had once been friends with. Soft tendrils of smoke were blowing off them in the light breeze. When they reached the base of the steps to the house, Minska could hear the muffled prayer of a mother on the other side of the door asking the Forerunners to save her daughter. Minska thought the soft whimpering he heard must be the daughter. Apparently, the Forerunners were busy with other matters, Minska bitterly thought to himself.
Mikalik and Minska set about removing the debris from the base of the door. The physical exertion, coupled with the heat of the flames that were beginning to lick their way down the sides and front of the house, made the two break out in a hot sweat within minutes.
As soon as all the wreckage was removed, the double-doors were flung open. A mother clutching a small girl to her breast emerged. She stopped in front of Mikalik and Minska for a moment to say a thank you to the Forerunners for delivering her and her family.
"The Forerunners were otherwise occupied today. Just me and Mikalik." Minska said softly as his gaze lingered on the fleeing woman.
A man in the final years of his life exited next, a limp hobbling him to a slow walk. Minska grabbed his arm.
"What's happened here?" he questioned softly, easing the death grip he had on the old man.
"A division of soldiers from the north came here demanding our surrender." The old man said, quaking in Minska's grip. "When the town elder refused, they killed him and began ransacking the town. They killed all the able-bodied men who could fight first, than anyone else they could get their hands on. Some they locked up in their own homes and set them on fire. The bulk of the division came streaming through that tree line over there. We never had a chance." The man finished in tears, pointing in the direction of where Minska and Mikalik had emerged.
"Where are all the soldiers now?" Mikalik questioned, his arms crossed. "Surely they haven't left yet. There are still people and untouched buildings around."
Minska detected a rare undercurrent of unbridled rage in Mikalik's voice. It was so fine that Mikalik's question almost sounded matter-of-factly. Minska knew better than to take that tone at face value.
Minska recalled the first of only a few times where Mikalik spoke in such a way. Minska was barely out of childhood, eating dinner with the already adult Mikalik. The Cynthanian pub was the name of the place they were at and it had a carved statute of a man raising a battleaxe above his head. Two ruffians from a neighboring city were visiting, drinking in the pub. With each round of drinks the two men shared, their coarse and sexual comments to the serving women were getting cruder and cruder. The language both fascinated and reviled Minska for at that age, he had never heard such things.
One of the men grabbed their serving girl and forced her to his lap, all the while giving her his protestations of love as his hands vulgarly roamed her body. When the girls' screaming for him to let her go didn't dissuade the man from his activity, Mikalik stood and asked him to let the girl go.
That question Mikalik posed to the man was the first time Minska had ever heard such an unfamiliar tone used by him. The man had stood and unceremoniously dropped the girl on the floor, giving her a swift kick to the teeth as he spun around to draw his belt knife. When the man with the knife lunged for Mikalik, his friend tried to grab Mikalik from the side to hold him still. Mikalik grabbed the man on his side and forced him to his front, just before the knife reached Mikalik. The man with the knife gutted his friend before he could stop his thrust.
Mikalik let the stabbed man slide down to the floor as he grabbed the first attackers' throat. Minska could still remember the squishing sound of fingers penetrating skin and tissue as Mikalik gave a powerful squeeze, crushing the man's windpipe. Mikalik then placed one hand on the dying man's chest, just below his other hand, and gave a mighty push, pulling back the arm containing the mans throat.
His throat and some of his insides were completely ripped out as his body thudded to the floor. Viscera was splattered against the floors, walls, and ceiling of the pub. Minska had vomited at the gruesome sight.
Mikalik's tone was far more cutting than it was when he encountered those men in the pub. Far more.
"They moved on to the northern end of town. Apparently, most of the townsfolk were up that area, or so their scouts reported. They headed up there. Only a trickle of people has made the forest to the south. I heard the division leader, Captain Haddon it was, saying they could have more fun destroying the town from top to bottom." the old man finished dejectedly, hanging his head in sorrow.
"Thank you sir," Minska said, clasping the man's shoulder "escape now with the others." The man nodded as he quickly made his way down the stairs, a slight spring to his step.
"Come on Minska," Mikalik said, starting down the steps himself "let's get to those other buildings and see who we can help."
As he followed Mikalik, Minska pondered what he and his friend could possibly do against such overwhelming odds. While he was no stranger to battle himself, and he certainly knew Mikalik could hold his own, in the face of so many opponents, Minska didn't think their chances of survival were very good. Needless to say, he would die in order to protect his land. He was still shaking slightly with the rage of what was happening to his home. He had spent his whole life growing up here, and now it was being destroyed. His mother had worked...
"Mikalik, my mother!" Minska suddenly shouted, stopping dead in his tracks. "I was so shocked over what I saw; I didn't think to start out looking for her."
"We'll find her. Right now, we have to help those trapped people." Mikalik said, starting out once again.
Minska didn't know much about Mikalik's life before he settled in Cyntha. Mikalik was a man slow to anger and quick to laughter. His anger was always directed at a person who committed a grievous injustice. The men who assaulted that serving woman were just the first instance of Mikalik's wrath that Minska could remember. It was from that time forward that Minska developed a healthy respect for Mikalik. Minska put thoughts of Mikalik's temper out of his head as they approached another small house that was barricaded with its occupants inside.
The house hadn't yet been set aflame, but Minska could see splatters of oil across the front and sides. He supposed that the soldiers felt they could enjoy a show of watching a family burned alive later. They must have wanted to make sport of as many people as they could before everyone escaped.
As the pair removed the last of the debris, the door burst open. An older woman emerged, followed closely by several small girls. A girl with a pink dress, her hair in pigtails, stopped before Minska.
"Thank you." She said, curtsying.
Minska went down to one knee and placed his hand on the girls' head.
"You're safe now." Minska said, wiping a tear from the girls' rosy cheek with the crook of his finger.
"Emma, hurry." The girl's mother said from the base of the stairs.
Emma gave Minska's cheek a quick kiss, and then scurried away to her mother.
"Head south." Minska called to the woman as he began heading deeper into the city with Mikalik in tow.
As he and Mikalik made their way towards the center of the city, the smell of burnt flesh and blood became almost unbearable. Every time Minska passed a body that was hacked apart, or gave a wide berth to the smoldering ruins of a home, he had to renew the stranglehold he had on his anger. He was saving that anger, letting it coarse through him with every determined step that he took. He knew he would need every bit of strength and anger when he finally came upon Cyntha's attackers.
Towards the center of the city, Minska and Mikalik reached the house of the now dead mayor. It was a sturdy two story home with gray paneling and expansive windows. Two trees with branches that hung low to the ground concealed most of the house and front yard from the outside. A pointy, iron fence circled the perimeter of the mayor's elegant home. Half of its front gate lay at an angle, hanging on one hinge while the other half had been thrown in the pond next to one of the trees. The rocks that ringed the small pond had been mostly displaced; some missing completely and others knocked into the water. By the broken windows on the right side of the house, Minska guessed where the missing rocks had gone.
As he and Mikalik continued through the chaos that was once their peaceful city, Minska heard a piercing scream. It sounded as if it had come from the backyard of the mayor's home. Minska grasped Mikalik's shoulder, giving him a pointed look. With no more of an exchange then that, the two quickly made their way back to the homes front yard. Mikalik put his fists side by side, the first finger of each hand pointing out. He brought both fists out, making a circle then bringing them back together. Minska recognized the gesture.
Mikalik had taught Minska several hand gestures for communicating when silence was necessary. This form of communication was invaluable during their many forays into the forest for hunting. The particular signal Mikalik had made meant he wanted to split up and converge on their prey. At a look from Mikalik, Minska nodded once. At the same time, both he and Mikalik crouched down and headed for opposites sides of the house.
Minska's blood pounded thunderously in his ears as he crouched along the side of the house. Even though he had yet to encounter a single enemy, he was grateful for all the cover the yard provided. The mayor kept an amazingly beautiful garden. Lush plants with multicolored leaves were held in prominent displays throughout the yard. Several saplings that were slightly taller than a man ran along the side of the house Minska was on. These provided further cover for him.
Near the back of the house, Minska came to an arched trellis that reached the slanted roof of the house. He stopped underneath the latticework and pressed his back against its wall. He peered around the side, surveying the backyard.
Minska saw a soldier dressed in leather armor sitting on an overturned fountain. He was waving a sword in front of Cairena's face, who was on her hands and knees before the man. Minska saw a vicious bruise just below her left eye. Her white dressed had several cuts along the back, with blood seeping into the fringe of those tears. Two other soldiers were there, standing on the houses stone back porch. They were sharing a bottle of the mayor's finest liquor, raucously laughing and telling Cairena what they would soon do to her.
At the descriptions of what they were planning for Cairena, coupled with the lurid bruise on her face, Minska released the now tentative hold he had on his temper. These men were nothing more than monsters. Their fate was now sealed.
Minska scanned the other side of the house, looking for Mikalik. He saw him, peering back at Minska from the opposite end of the house. Mikalik lifted his fist in the air, and then brought it down. That hand movement was all Minska needed to see. Mikalik sprang up and slowly made his way into full view of the soldiers. At seeing the intruder in their midst, the soldiers immediately snapped to attention.
The two on the porch rejoined their comrade, both removing their swords from their scabbards. They approached Mikalik, confidant that he posed no threat. One of the soldiers kicked the side of Cairena's head with the back of his heel, knocking her unconscious. With that final act of cruelty, Minska unleashed his built up wrath.
He emerged from his place of cover, and sprinted towards the soldiers. Each of his enemies had his back turned to Minska, intent on the man standing motionless before them. Just as Minska collided into the back of the soldier in the center, Mikalik sprang to life, rushing the soldier to Minska's right.
These men practically had free reign to terrorize the people of Cyntha. By dispatching most of the men capable of fighting so quickly, they had ample time to prey upon the defenseless women and children. Minska and Mikalik were by no means defenseless. These soldiers were sorely unprepared for the violence that this avenging duo were about to unleash upon them. They had become drunk in their bloodlust, and forgot what it was like to face an opponent who could defend themselves.
Minska launched his opponent through the air, his momentum carrying him along. As he landed on the man's back, he grabbed the soldier's belt knife, taking it with him as he rolled away. He came up on one knee, prepared to strike the man he had just tackled. The man lay face down, gasping for breath. Minska's attack had knocked the air from him. As the third soldier bore down on Minska, Minska brought the knife up in an uppercut, driving the blade up the soft middle under the man's square jaw, all the way into his brain. Minska held the man up for a moment by the blade, panting in rage. He pulled the weapon out, the soldier's lifeless body collapsing before Minska's feet. He glanced behind his back to see Mikalik running the other soldier through with his own sword. The fallen soldier was just regaining his breath, coming up on his hands and knees. Minska kneeled before him, waving the gory dagger before his eyes, similar to what the man was doing before Cairena's face a moment before.
"Looks like you and your friend's won't be having any fun with that girl like you thought you would." Minska growled.
The man just stared up dumbly at Minska as Minska sliced him across the neck.
Minska dropped the knife and rushed over to Cairena. She was just regaining consciousness, clutching her head where the soldier had struck her. Minska gently rolled her onto her back, cradling her trembling form in his arms.
"Minska, I went into the mayor's house to make sure little Tial and her mother were safe. Those three soldiers were there, looting the house. Tial and the mayor's wife had been slaughtered, and..." was all Cairena managed as she started into a bout of sobbing at recalling that gruesome scene.
"It's ok now. No one is going to hurt you." Minska said tenderly, clutching Cairena's head to his chest.
Mikalik came up on Minska's side and dropped a sword near him. He had taken one for himself as well. Mikalik had left the sword inside of the man he had run through. Mikalik squatted down and placed a consoling hand on Cairena's shoulder.
"I'm glad you're alright Cairena, but Minska and I have to go on. Everybody is fleeing to the south. Kyvil is a few hours away. These soldiers won't have an easy time of sacking that city if that's what their plans are. You and everyone else will be safe there." Mikalik said, giving her shoulder a gently squeeze.
"What about you two?" she questioned.
At the look of rage she saw in each face as she peered at both Minska and Mikalik, she got the idea of what they were planning.
"You can't even think of such a thing. There are far too many of them. Why, they overran the town within minutes, pouring out of the tree line without any notice. You'll be killed." She cried, clutching both Minska and Mikalik's arm.
"We can't let this go unpunished." Mikalik began, his tone taking on a steely edge.
He rose up, helping Cairena to her feet.
"Don't worry about us, we don't plan on dying. These animals think there is no one here who can resist them. That will be their downfall." Mikalik said, locking Minska in his intense gaze.
Minska wasn't sure about the not dying part. He mustered a smile as Cairena turned to him, tears welling in her eyes. Her short brown hair was a mess. In clothes that looked like tattered rags, Minska still thought she looked beautiful. He hated the people who would do this to her and everyone else in Cyntha. He gave a knowing nod to Mikalik, signaling that he was in fact ready to give his life if need be. Cairena clutched him around the neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Somehow, she knew what he was thinking.
"I love you." She murmured, pulling back to gauge Minska's reaction.
His life as he knew it was destroyed by evil men from a land far to the north. Most of his friend's were dead, not to mention a good amount of the people he didn't know who shared the same city with him. He was preparing himself for a battle that he knew he could not win. And now, he was confronted with another situation he was not ready to deal with. Not knowing what to say, he gave her a final hug.
"Come on Mikalik, let's go." He said, releasing Cairena and picking up the sword next to him.
"Head to the south, Cairena." Minska said, attempting to make his tone level.
Minska could see a hint of hurt in her eyes, different from the physical and emotional pain she felt at what was happening around her. Minska hated himself at that moment for not being able to reciprocate his feelings to her. But in the face of him possibly dying, he didn't want to lie to Cairena. If the Forerunner's truly did have any sort of hand in the affairs of man, then this must be a comedy they were having a grand time of watching.
Cairena replied that she would, and immediately set out. Minska waited until she was past the trellis, and turned to Mikalik. He saw disapproval in his eyes.
"You should have lied. In case we don't survive, which we probably won't, you could have at least left her with a beautiful lie instead of an ugly truth. I'm disappointed that you have learned nothing from me." Mikalik said, shaking his head in disgust.
"If I had gone by your example, then I would have had to bed her and then immediately leave, as you're won't to do." Minska said with a small smile, wanting to lighten the mood.
Lighten it as much as could be considering the sorry state of affairs their world was now in.
"I've got nothing." Mikalik replied after a moment, giving Minska a small smile of his own.
User Reviews
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2008-03-07 08:04:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
A reply to your reply: you keep saying that 'all will become clear', more or less, and that's fine...actually, I always enjoy big reveals and surprises and stuff like that. But just a thought: if you're intent on hooking a reader, you want to either do the big reveal sooner rather than later, or hook them in some other way early on. The key words being EARLY. It doesn't matter what kind of awesome twist you have planned, if it takes place in chapter 32 and nothing you've done preceding that is unique or interesting, your readers will probably not stick around that long.
I'm not actually criticising your story here; I'm just saying that if you're interested in hooking readers, you have to do it fairly early.
Submitted by Registered_S_O (user info) at 2008-03-07 01:58:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Honestly Jack, I have read a lot of fantasy. I mean a fucking lot. Goodkind, jordan, Salvatore, Dragon Lance, Prydain Chronicles (my first), Runelords, etc.
This is still a work in progress. Chapter 3, which will be on here by Monday, really begins to veer away from regular fantasy. Your thoughts, however, on avenging angels etc is sound. Mikalik I am making to kinda be like that, but Minska, no not at this time. I will really think about that when I edit chapter 2.
Now, some of the traditional elements you mentioned will not be present in my books. For example, no characters who get bad ass swords. Just one examplke. This series will really veer away from most of what i read. The Human Condition is the most important thing to me. It will be the most important thing within my story. While I will tell this story within a fantasy backdrop, soon people will be able to relate with a lot of real life heartaches I will present here.
It's a very ambitious and ambiguous goal I have in mind. Aside from a light element of magic that is required in my story, most traditional fantasy elements i.e. other races, terrible magic, a dark lord of pure magic will be missing from what I am writing. I may start off as if you have read this a hundred times, but I will quickly deviate from that to my own style.
One thing that bothers me that I am no sure how to address at this point; do my characters really sound wooden? While I admit I need to work on Minska a bit, did all the others really sound bad? I like to think that Mikalik is kinda on his own, away from the pack. Minska definitely needs some fine tuning, and plans for him are already circulating in my head. What about the side characters who appear for a page or two? Are you saying they sound terribly lame? What am I doing that sounds bad?
Thanks again for your advice Jack. You mentioned I seem honest and that I am trying (I really am). I appreciate you willing to take the time to mention what it is you mentioned.
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2008-03-06 18:35:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
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Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2008-03-06 18:35:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-03-06 17:38:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No problem. Don't feel any obligation to respond to me. I'm full to the brim with a 50/50 mix of horseshit and unsolicited advice. You just strike me as honest and someone who is trying hard so I thought I'd throw in my two cents.
Submitted by Registered_S_O (user info) at 2008-03-06 16:45:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Jack thank you as well. I just logged on real quick to check things here and what i skimmed from you seems sound and honest. I'll read what you replied in full later tonight. That forum you recommended seems good.
Thanks again man. Also, I'll have some comments on how I intend to change things up with what I'm writing. Chapter 3 takes off in a much different area. I personally feel that's where I am beginning a little to veer away from traditional fantasy.
I'll be back on later. You guys rock.
Submitted by Registered_S_O (user info) at 2008-03-06 16:41:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Thecaes, let me just say to you, what you said was perfect. Everything you stated is correct. But, as the story progresses and the reasoning behind everything unfolds, this chapter 2 will make a lot more sense.. Thanks for spelling errors. I will fix those.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-03-06 13:36:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Sorry about the italics markings. Wrote this like a post, not a comment. What a doof.
My internet connection is just sucking Satan's bag this morning. Damn.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-03-06 13:34:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Sorry about the italics markings. Wrote this like a post, not a comment. What a doof.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-03-06 13:31:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Sorry about the italics markings. Wrote this like a post, not a comment. What a doof.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-03-06 13:30:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Comments on 'The Shielded Land' by Registered_S_O
PART 1 of 2
(The following is my personal opinion only. You can follow some or all of this advice, tell me to stuff it, or solicit suggestions from others. It's your call.)
Okay, I'm not trying to be a cunt here, but this will never get published. And unless you know someone in the business, you may not even be able to get an agent or publisher to LOOK at it. The market is absolutely glutted with crap these days (thanks to the internet making every dipshit online think they are a writer) and publishing houses have said enough is enough.
Here's the problem. You need to read some fantasy stuff. Read a LOT. I haven't read any of that shit in YEARS, but the old Del Rey stuff I used to blow through was pretty fun, and these days that market is huge, and that is your problem. This reads like a few hundred other fantasy novels out there. There is nothing new here, either in style or story.
Now, I know you're probably thinking, <i>fuck you Jack, Mr. Self-Published author with your shitty little stories on Über which were probably plagiarized which makes you a cheater and a bad persona and besides you are a Republican and old,</i> and you are entitled to that opinion, but here's my advice;
(1) If you MUST stick to this storyline, try approaching the telling from a perspective completely different from what has been done here and in many other works. The #1 reason I stopped reading fantasy shit years ago was because ALL the novels were the same. The same vaguely familiar sounding goofy names, the same vaguely Tolkienesque settings, weapons, and threats, the same <i>He swore a blood oath on that day that he would somehow raise the blade of his forefathers against the armies of Lord Thurn and the supernatural terror of his Underdweller Legion</i> dialogue. Bad fantasy drives me apeshit. That's why I did this http://www.ubersite.com/m/112801. Uber has way too much shitty fantasy, the biggest problem being that so many writers get so jazzed about this incredibly awesome mind-blowing character they created and this really really cool sword he has that they forget to throw in a fucking PLOT! You have to change it around. How? Fucked if I know. But you gotta get away from the same old same old. A good example of a guy who managed just that is Stephen R. Donaldson (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stephen_R._Donaldson) who started his Thomas Covenant series back in the 70s. He did stuff familiar to Tolkien readers but modernized it and added enough new shit that it was a HUGE success. It still blows away most of the best-selling sword & sorcery / fantasy pap that has come along since.
(2) Most of your dialogue is really wooden. Hey, it happens to all of us. Sometimes what you hear in your head doesn't translate to the page the way you would like. Read a lot of stuff. A shit ton of stuff. Even the kind of stuff you would never write in a thousand years. That will give you a decent 'ear' for dialogue, what flows and what jars, and it will eventually allow you to play with a style that is a little more yours than theirs and allow you to go against the established rules.
Listen to real people talking everywhere you go. On the bus, at the movies, on the shitter at work. Eavesdrop like a motherfucker. Listen to speech patterns and inflections and lisps and accents. Store that shit in your head. Then some future day you'll be creating a character and BAM, he'll sound just like that creepy manager at work who always spends WAY too much time washing and drying his hands in the restroom and bellows a chipper, "There he is!" or "Another day, another dollar!" to every guy coming in for a quick piss, but that's okay, cause this character is detestable and you're gonna fucking kill him off anyway, but now you can kill him AND the creepy manager at the same time. What a bonus!
People who have read enough of my stuff can spot my influences instantly, the most obvious being Stephen King. A lot of my early stuff read like King with brain damage, but I think I'm getting my own voice, my own tone, and I'm always trying to make my characters sound like real people when they talk. Sometimes I fail miserably, but I think I do okay for the most part.
(3) If you are COMPLETELY hooked through the bag on sword & sorcery / fantasy (or whatever) try changing the setting, because this stuff has been done to death. Honestly. Shit man, what about some weird rift in time/space spilling a bunch of evil dudes and one or two heroes from this story into OUR time and place, say some small Midwestern town. Set that up and then let the shit hit the fan.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-03-06 13:30:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Comments on 'The Shielded Land' by Registered_S_O
PART 2 of 2
(4) Join an online writer's group where you will get HONEST feedback. Über isn't the place for that, even though you get guys like Thecaes who will give decent, sound criticism. He's caught a lot of my goofs and pointed out things that I missed (I'm not talking minor grammatical errors or typos, a good editor can clean that up, I mean major plot holes and character insistencies). Another person who gave me good feedback was Circe. Of course at the time I felt as if I'd been reamed with a cinderblock dildo soaked in lighter fluid, but looking back a lot of her comments were right on the money. For the most part Überusers will either give you retarded comments or 2s on a work that has obvious flaws, which are great for the ego but bad for you as a writer. kaos_king has suggested writing.com to a few of us, and it looks like a good bet, but the fees, as minimal as they are, rub me the wrong way. Search the web, there are a lot of free sites out there. Or create you own site and invite other writers to share and critique each other. I'd do that for my shit but I have no web skills whatsoever. If you have the time and the money you could also take a writing course. If the course is taught by either an established author or one who's a drip, but a drip with connections, that could get your foot in the door. I know a girl who got a book published just because the guy teaching her creative writing course wanted to fuck the ass right off of her and helped her right onto the bookstore display shelf. It's understandable of course, because she does have a really cute ass.
(5) When people have said this stuff was a bit bland or they were waiting for something to happen, you've implied more than once that the BIG stuff is coming, it's gonna blow your minds, etc., etc., and that's all well and good, but unless you're an established author who can afford to reel out a few chapters of set-up, you're screwed. You have to grab them by the balls, FAST. Works in short stories too.
If you open a story like this...
<i>Annabel sat in the rocker by the window. She sat unmoving, sun and shadow slowly moving over the old lines of her face. The wooden arms and slats of the softly creaking family heirloom were warm against her body, the surfaces worn as smooth as glass over the years. She remembered summers and winters past, seasons seen through this window, and she realized that the only time she was ever really at peace, not happy, no, never happy, but at peace, was in the rocker, by the window.</i>
...you could bore the shit out of people. But if you do something like this...
<i>Annabel sat in the rocker by the window. She sat unmoving, sun and shadow slowly moving over the old lines of her face. Unmoving, and unaware that the softly creaking family heirloom supporting her would soon be reduced to dry splinters and flaming shards and that her own frail body would be similarly fragmented to such a degree her family would not recognize her upon their first horrified and sickened glances. Annabel remembered summers and winters past in this window, and realized that the only time she was ever really at peace, not happy, no, never happy, but at peace, was in the rocker, by the window.</i>
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Okay, I've listed the negatives, now here is the positive. You are working on CHARACTER and PLOT. You have a long way to go, but never forget those two essentials. If no one cares about your characters, it doesn't matter how cool they are, no one will give a shit. Make the reader either like or hate a main character enough that they want to see what eventually happens to them. And as for the plot, well, read enough stuff on Über and you'll see that plot is sadly lacking. You can create gripping characters but if they do the same old shit people have seen before no one will give a fuck. This is why 9 out of 10 Hollywood remakes sink like lead... uh... sinkers.
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To wrap up... Getting published these days is a bastard unless you know someone on the inside. That's just the way it is. The next time you read a story about some sixteen year old wunderkind landing a bestseller with a publisher, read the fine print. I guarantee he has an uncle or aunt who works for Doubleday or Random House, or auntie or uncle know someone who does. I tried selling my book for about a year and started running out of room for all my rejection slips (<i>We're sorry that we can't read your submission but we have truckloads of shit coming in every day from unknown douchebags just like you and frankly, we've fucking had it</i>). Also, I wanted to move on to other stories (I have a sequel and a prequel fully outlined and in the works, and two other unrelated novels in progression), so I self-published (to much derision here) with Xlibris. So fucking what? I own the rights to that first book, and if I ever sell anything later I can go back and clean it up and flog it again. In the meantime I have a 450 page novel out there. It may be the world's slowest seller, but I DID it. It is OUT there. It is DONE.
The things I'm working on a thing right now will probably go through Bookturd or whatever that new service is that is partnered with Amazon. Lots of selling options and decent exposure if you work at it. Xlibris blows these days. Although one of the tales is set in Canada, so I should see if there is a Bookturd.ca for that one.
Would I like to sell and make money? Of fucking course. But I enjoy writing either way, so I'll just keep on writing.
Anyhow, that's it. Why the long review? Because you're trying, man. You're trying. A lot of so-called writers these days don't try nearly hard enough. Keep it up.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2008-03-06 12:05:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Not bad at all. A couple of spelling mistakes...you spelled "wont" as "won't", off the top of my head, and there was another one...oh yeah, you said "chard" instead of "charred."
I'm not sure I buy the idea of Minska and Mikalik charging into battle against an army, ready to die for revenge. First of all, I don't like the idea because it's very ordinary -- it's an overdramatic cliche. Secondly, it's not realistic at all -- I mean, who attacks an army single-handedly? Idiots and people with godly power. Thirdly, it doesn't seem like it's in their nature. Based on their frolics in the woods, they just don't seem like the suicidal-deadly-killer-avenging-angel types; they seem a lot more simple and human than that. Now if they headed north in an effort to save as many people as they could, I could buy that.
Submitted by HellRazer (user info) at 2008-03-05 20:36:43 EST (#)
Ranking: -1
I know this is building up, but I liked the first one better.
Great writing style though! Looking forward to the next one.
Submitted by Registered_S_O (user info) at 2008-03-05 15:21:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Who says protagonists have to be just and good and nice?
I have extremely big plans for that. Extremely big.
Submitted by Registered_S_O (user info) at 2008-03-05 15:20:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Ltap: it really sets the stage for what i have planned. The ensuring chapters really build off of what has happened here. Eventually, the importance of cyntha being ransacked will become apparent in the story.
Iwalkalone: I have before. I made some final tweaks to this and am posting everything that I have on it. Tomorrow we will see the last half of this chapter, then chapters 3-6. Hopefully, I stop being lazy and get 7 written in time for here.
I have found that posting the previous sections, people here drop some helpful advice and criticisms. I thought I had a decent prologue when I posted it a long time ago. People thought it was shit, and helped me to see as well it was shit.
Submitted by i_walk_alone (user info) at 2008-03-05 11:32:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Have you posted this story before? Chapter 1 seemed familiar ...
Submitted by Ltap (user info) at 2008-03-05 10:59:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
It's very, very good writing, but it's sort of... blah? I mean, who wants to read about how some town is ransacked and the protagonist is a villager who fights back? It'd be more interesting to have it from the perspective of the ransacker. Who says protagonists have to be just and good and nice?
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-03-05 10:52:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
+2 for effort.
-1 because I can neither laugh nor wank over this.
Submitted by Registered_S_O (user info) at 2008-03-05 10:46:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
what we will learn*
Submitted by Registered_S_O (user info) at 2008-03-05 10:45:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Ty monkey.
Submitted by Registered_S_O (user info) at 2008-03-05 10:44:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
To answer a few questions asked of me during previous posts, let me first say I do indeed plan to try and get publish.
This book is done on the side of both work and studying. Personally, I don't know if my story will ever see the bright light of a border's bookshelf. I am doing all I can to fine tune what I write before I eventually turn it over to my first publisher (prologue and chapter 1). If this book fails, well, I fail. At least I'll hopefully get some kind of degree that will land me a job until I die at age 50 something of cancer or something stupid.
A note on the prologue.
Basically, I need that prologue to be very mysterious. Things will be revealed, certain facts that make no sense now will come to light, as I continue to write. Tentatively, I have ten books mapped out. The tenth book will shed light on certain parts of that prologue.
While I agree some things seem cliche in my story, believe me it gets better. Let's just say that the ENTIRE premise of my story will NOT revolve around good king gone bad trying to rule the world. That's only an aspect to what I have written.
I want this story to focus heavily on love, betrayal, happiness, sadness, the human condition, and my own made up man's physical manifestation of magic. This HOPEFULLY, if I can write about it and develop it well enough, will be unique. While (magic) does come up, what we will lean that it really is, will not have been done before (i hope).
That is all.
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2008-03-05 10:44:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Holy shit, I'm not reading that much, but here's a +2 for the obvious time and effort you took in writing this.