Rip me to shreds!

[StillStunned]

"The wooden balcony creaked under Avilia's impatient bootsteps. She marked the last hour of what passed for peace in Port Pensal before the rumble of carts filled Westmarket Square and the cries of fat merchants competed with shrieking seabirds to make her regret ever setting foot in this dirty, dingy, hellspawn of a pirate's sanctuary. The first purple light had just cracked the eastern hills, and that could only mean a winter squall was on the way.

But on that morning, it was just Avilia, the morning sky, and the tangy salt air ... -> springboard into your story"

I like what you've done, but it achieves a different effect. This is far more active - which is normally a good thing for setting the scene with sword & sorcery. Like with the existing stories about Avilia: The Rivals.

But here I was looking for something different, to give the reader an impression of a hush, and perhaps quiet anticipation. Avilia is something of an adrenaline junkie, and while she's enjoying some peace and quiet she's also eager for some excitement. So the opening scene has to be almost static, with words like "slumber" and "the soft rushing and rolling of waves".

 

[StillStunned]

@StillStunned

Got it. I misunderstood. Sorry for intruding

No problem! Like I said, I liked your version too, it just took a different direction. It's always great to see how another writer approaches the same situation. We learn every time we share.

 

[filthytrancendence]

repeating "Thatcher" in the opening sentence feels awkward.

I assume that Don's name is used just before this snippet. If not, I'd swap "the huge man" and "Don" around. Or even order them "Don... the huge man... the bouncer".

Yeah, Don (the bouncer) just finished speaking before this paragraph. You're right it's awkward to repeat the name. Thinking about it, you're right, if I start with Don I can use a pronoun instead of the second use of Thatcher, and then I can use 'the huge man' instead of repeating Don's name.

"Don pulled Thatcher off the floor and he draped an arm around the the huge man's shoulder"

 

[StillStunned]

In case anyone's interested, here's the rewrite. Thanks for everyone's feedback and suggestions. The big issue was the second sentence, which I think I've fixed now.

"The sky was just turning purple over the eastern hills when Avilia stepped out onto the balcony. Pensal was a port, and its trade and activity never truly ceased. But now it slumbered, and in the hour before dawn it was almost peaceful. The rumble of carts and the cries of humans and seabirds were stilled, and the breeze that brought the sharp smell of the sea carried the soft rushing and rolling of waves as well."

 

[filthytrancendence]

Alright, I finally started actually writing this beast after more background work than I've ever done on a story. This is my first paragraph, so it kinda needs to be my hook. I feel like I'm falling down on my own advice here. I'm trying to pack as much characterization and scene setting into the chapter overall as possible (because I have 3 MC's to introduce, I can't really afford to dilly dally). I think this is fairly evocative, but it's not nearly as exciting as my usual hook. Just looking for an outside opinion:

It was an unusually hot May afternoon in the industrial expanse that was the north side of Denver’s downtown sprawl. Karl’s office at the union headquarters felt sweltering in the way that the first really hot day of the year always does. Sweat seemed to pour out of him as he sat behind the old, unpretentious desk which had framed his predecessors for longer than anybody could remember.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

I'd like to join in this endeavor; here's a bit I just wrote:

He took her left hand from the crook of his elbow and grasped it firmly in his right. He turned to face her as he drew her arm around her waist behind her back, He pulled her close to him, her full breasts pressed against his chest and her abdomen tight against his hips. His eyes focused on hers as his let hand cradled her cheek.

“I would love to have you as my mistress,” he said warmly, “but college rules would require you find a new thesis advisor. I’d hate to lose you as a student, but . . .”

He slid his hand down from her cheek to her neck, wrapping his strong fingers around her throat and tilting her head to look up at him. He leaned to her, placing his lips lightly on her for a gentle kiss. A long kiss, and then his lips parted slightly, just enough for his tongue to slip out and glide over her moth from corner to corner. A bit of insistent pressure, and his tongue parted her lips, gaining entry to her mouth. As his tongue twirled and twisted, passionately dancing with hers taking a full taste of her mouth, his fingers and thumb tightened, almost imperceptibly pressing on her carotid arteries, He felt the quickening of her pulse and sensed the slight feeling of light-headedness that flowed over her. He held the kiss, the grip, and the dance with her tongue for a few moments before releasing her.

“Yes, Katherine, you’re very tempting, but I want you as a student now.”

He gave her his arm again, and walked her to the end of the alley. His car was parked nearby, and he drove her back to her apartment.

 

[filthytrancendence]

He took her left hand from the crook of his elbow and grasped it firmly in his right.

Overall I think the snippet has too many adjectives/adverbs, which disrupt the flow of your prose. But the left and right in this bit is the most illustrative example. I'm guilty of this too, but I force myself every time I'm tempted to specify which hand/leg/whatever to really ask "does my reader need me to specify which arm is moving?"

And usually the answer is no. These wreck flow worse than usual because in reading it, you assume there is a reason you need to keep track of the left hand in specific. But then there just isn't a reason. "He took her hand from the crook of his elbow and grasped it firmly in his." flows so much better.

"strong fingers" and "parted slightly" are examples of good modifiers that add something we want to know and do not distract. "placing his lips lightly" and "full taste" are examples of clunky ones that mostly just make it more difficult to read.

It's very possible this makes more sense with more context, but I'm baffled at the turn. The first line of dialogue seems to be implying that he's willing to lose her as a student to get into her pants, so to speak. And then he initiates a passionate kiss. And then he decides to just stop?

I mean, okay, that's a valid resolution. You just need a reason why. It's jarring to cut directly from the kiss to the rejection because it sure seemed like it was going the other direction. Double jarring because the second dialogue line begins with "Yes" when it seems like he means "No"

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Thanks. I agree about the hand business, but I'm always overtrying to make sure the image is clear.

The shift from what appears to be an upcoming yes to a no that follows the word 'yes' is intentional, It's the main aspect I was looking for input on. I didn't want to put too much of the rest of the tale in for context, but maybe it would help. The student is doing research into sex work, and is looking for something exciting. I'm setting her up for an anonymous invitation to a secret libertines' ball, but I want her to be wondering if it was from the prof, someone else on her thesis committee, a fellow student, or one of the escorts she's interviewed.

 

[filthytrancendence]

Thanks. I agree about the hand business, but I'm always overtrying to make sure the image is clear.

The shift from what appears to be an upcoming yes to a no that follows the word 'yes' is intentional, It's the main aspect I was looking for input on. I didn't want to put too much of the rest of the tale in for context, but maybe it would help. The student is doing research into sex work, and is looking for something exciting. I'm setting her up for an anonymous invitation to a secret libertines' ball, but I want her to be wondering if it was from the prof, someone else on her thesis committee, a fellow student, or one of the escorts she's interviewed.

Gotchya. Well, if ambiguous is what you're going for, I say just delete "yes".

"Katherine, you’re very tempting, but I want you as a student now."

Maybe some kind of sigh preceding it? Or just some non-verbal emotional cue to how he's feeling when he says it. Something to get us from passionate kiss to driving her home.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Okay. Thanks for the advice. I'll try it.

 

[yowser]

Alright, I finally started actually writing this beast after more background work than I've ever done on a story. This is my first paragraph, so it kinda needs to be my hook. I feel like I'm falling down on my own advice here. I'm trying to pack as much characterization and scene setting into the chapter overall as possible (because I have 3 MC's to introduce, I can't really afford to dilly dally). I think this is fairly evocative, but it's not nearly as exciting as my usual hook. Just looking for an outside opinion:

It was an unusually hot May afternoon in the industrial expanse that was the north side of Denver’s downtown sprawl. Karl’s office at the union headquarters felt sweltering in the way that the first really hot day of the year always does. Sweat seemed to pour out of him as he sat behind the old, unpretentious desk which had framed his predecessors for longer than anybody could remember.

Biggest problem for me are the long clunky sentences with a string of similarly constructed relative clauses. I’d be tempted to break things up and make it all more vivid. They all have the same drone to them.

Denver got walloped with the first heatwave of the year that late May afternoon. Karl’s office in the northern reaches of Denver’s industrial sprawl, streets shimmering in the brutal sunlight, turned into a boiler room.

The ‘longer than anyone could remember’ is similarly clunky, surely a better way to indicate time immemorial? Any way to suggest Karl’s inner state with a hint here early, make the scene more personally intriguing?

Karl used a handkerchief to mop his brow, likely as a long line of the union bosses before him had done in the first heat of the year, all of them stuck behind the same, long weathered desk.

(Throw in a detail on his emotional state that your reader will ‘see.’ Weary? Wishes he was sitting on a porch somewhere else with a glass of lemonade? At a swimming hole? Not dreading the next interview/task/drive home?)

You’ve got a good visual start, varying pace and descriptions can make it all come alive.

 

[filthytrancendence]

It was an unusually hot May afternoon in the industrial expanse that was the north side of Denver’s downtown sprawl. Karl’s office at the union headquarters felt sweltering in the way that the first really hot day of the year always does. Sweat seemed to pour out of him as he sat behind the old, unpretentious desk which had framed his predecessors for longer than anybody could remember.

Biggest problem for me are the long clunky sentences with a string of similarly constructed relative clauses. I’d be tempted to break things up and make it all more vivid. They all have the same drone to them.

Denver got walloped with the first heatwave of the year that late May afternoon. Karl’s office in the northern reaches of Denver’s industrial sprawl, streets shimmering in the brutal sunlight, turned into a boiler room.

The ‘longer than anyone could remember’ is similarly clunky, surely a better way to indicate time immemorial? Any way to suggest Karl’s inner state with a hint here early, make the scene more personally intriguing?

Karl used a handkerchief to mop his brow, likely as a long line of the union bosses before him had done in the first heat of the year, all of them stuck behind the same, long weathered desk.

(Throw in a detail on his emotional state that your reader will ‘see.’ Weary? Wishes he was sitting on a porch somewhere else with a glass of lemonade? At a swimming hole? Not dreading the next interview/task/drive home?)

You’ve got a good visual start, varying pace and descriptions can make it all come alive.

I see what you’re saying and I agree.

I drill pretty deep into his emotional state immediately after, but I think finding one verb to telegraph that somewhere here is a good idea.

I’m going to ruminate on it and see what I can come up with.

 

[NuclearFairy]

So, it's kinda scary, but I want to give this a try with the beginning of a story I'm writing about orcs. Quick context note, goblins are very young orcs.

There was a raid going on. For the girls that Larry had hidden in this room with herself, it wouldn’t mean much. Just an uncomfortable trip and then trading one breeding house for another. It was all part of the grim reality of being a breeding slave in a border territory.

Larry’s lips flattened around her tusks as she looked over from her hiding place near the door, to the small group of women that she’d placed at the back of the room. The problem was, if the soldiers and guards could be believed, that this group of raiders were very hard on their breeders and they didn’t tend to last even a year.

Her eyes narrowed as they fell on the petite woman hiding at the back of the group, who was even more of a problem. The lord was conspiring against the war boss, and this woman was part of the conspiracy. The lord was not the worst that Larry had encountered, but he was up there, and as much as Larry hated the breeding houses that were the only place that would hire “him” most of the time, she hated letting lords like that win even more. If this group of raiders got this particular girl, he would win, and Larry would not allow that. She would just have to find a way to save the little goblin later.

 

[filthytrancendence]

You’ve got a good visual start, varying pace and descriptions can make it all come alive.

Okay, here's what I came up with. I know the last sentence is either teetering on the edge of being awkwardly long or is just too long. But I decided to double down on the detail of the desk and anthropomorphize it a bit and I feel like it works. And I saved the complicated sentence for last, and varied the cadence of the phrasing per your suggestion.

The sun blazed down ruthlessly over Denver’s industrial district one bright May afternoon. Karl’s office in the Union headquarters was sweltering, and not just because of the merciless sun. He wiped his brow instinctively and found that the back of his hand was running with sweat. Karl leaned forward onto the old, unpretentious desk which had framed every Union President before him. It boasted countless gashes and faint stains as souvenirs from the decades of silent witness it bore to exactly the sort of tense meeting which was presently compounding the scorching heat.

 

[Erozetta]

Here's one I started writing while processing some thoughts:

I was asked to leave as they coddled one of the worst men I've ever met. They cared for him in a way they never cared for her, and I wanted to watch them all burn.

But, I left. I had more important things to tend to back home.

I tossed my keys in the dish by the door. It had been glued back together many times over the years, we'd both knocked it off the shelf so often with drunkenness and late night laughter.

My hand still had her brother-in-law’s blood caked onto the knuckles. The crunch of his nose beneath my fist had felt good.

Opening her bedroom door, I was met with her pristine bed. Hadn't been slept in for weeks. She'd been sleeping in mine. Even at the end, I didn't want to let her go. Walking out of that bathroom when the police arrived was the hardest thing I've ever done. They thought I'd killed her. I can't blame them for it. They found me sitting next to her, my back to the wall, crying and banging the back of my head against the tile. I held the knife she'd used in my hand, turning it over and over, contemplating just how painful it would've been for her. How lonely she must've been at the end.

She'd always told me her biggest fear was dying alone, but she also knew that's how it would be. “No one has anyone else at the end. You always face that dark quiet alone.”

Her bedspread was white. I swiped the dried blood onto it, then I knelt in front of it and let my trembling hands come together. I wasn't above bargaining with a god I didn't believe in.

This is the end of a 3,700 word doc. Not the end of the story, but where I stopped writing because I managed to get out of the depressive spiral I was in, and now I have no idea where to go from here. The obvious path: complete mental breakdown of MC who goes down a vigilante rabbit hole egged on by ghostly whispers. The path I want to go down: MC learning that sometimes bad people live good lives while good people suffer the consequences of actions not their own. The path I'll most likely take it: Not finishing it unless I hit another depressive spiral.

Either way, love, grief and acceptance feature heavily throughout already.

 

[filthytrancendence]

MC learning that sometimes bad people live good lives while good people suffer the consequences of actions not their own.

Sounds like they've already learned this. The learning of this truth damages a person. That's where it feels like this character is in your snippet. The end of that arc is acceptance of the truth, which is one hell of a tough path to walk. The good end, in any case. The bad end you already mentioned.

The idea that springs to mind for me is to have them walk the anger path for a while. Go down the road toward becoming a vigilante. Then when the reality of what they are about to do sets in, they truly realize what it will cost and break again. And from that brokenness, they begin to find acceptance.

I think it would be okay to just end it there, with that realization. That's a note of hope to end on, even if it's small.

 

[WCSGarland]

My snippet:

So yeah, the big fuck scene, the one I just spent 10 weeks editing and watching and editing and watching over and over again as a salve for my broken heart. What they'd watched so far, me seducing Dale, him then finally letting me have his dick? That wasn't it.

No, the big fuck scene in store for them was the finale. It was them fucking me up by leaving me heart broken. The same sequence over and over again from all the angles available. That's the story of my adult life though. I mentioned before that I do webcam shows, right? I've monetized my exhibitionist kink.

I'll bet you think it's fucked up right? That I should have multiple cameras recording events in my townhouse, 24-7, every room. I've told Dale and Kat also, and it doesn't look as if they've put two and two together yet.

I queued it up while in a bitchy mood. Now that I'm sitting on the toilet cleaning up my bloody puss, it's apparent my bitchy mood is due to my period. Two days early. Dammit, Katrina and Dale still owe me some fucks. Ah well, guess I'll wait 'til later to collect what they owe me. I'm not in the mood for fuck like this.

I open up my A/V app on my phone and dequeue the video, don't want them watching it without being able to see their faces. Instead, I queue up my Bitch In Torment playlist, it's a mix of Bloodrock, Coldplay and Bad Company tracks. It's on low now 'cause I'm not yet to the full on self loathing stage.

Katrina opens the bathroom door, looks in and says, "Are you okay Jessa? You've been in here a while. The video went away also."

"No, I'm not okay. My bloody little red bitch decided to visit two days early. The only thing I'm in the mood for is a shower and then slithering into bed to sleep the rest of the weekend. You and Dale can go fuck yourselves silly otherwise."