Rip me to shreds!

[MelissaBaby]

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

I am often guilty of that as well. I have to tell myself they aren't actors, I'm not giving them stage directions.

 

[StillStunned]

It's been a while since I made much progress with writing sword & sorcery, but yesterday the muse decided to bless her devoted servant with her presence, or something like that. I've had an idea for a new story in the City of Scum. Sleazy conman seduces an innocent but gets caught up in more trouble than he expected.

Here's the opening:

She was the picture of a newcomer to the City, and a naïve one at that. Her soft green gown spoke of moderate wealth, and her soft features and hands spoke of a sheltered upbringing. Beneath a smooth brow, large brown eyes gazed wistfully across Gold Square, and the full red lips were set in a disappointed pout.

Alone at a table by the window of Prenicky’s Coffee House, a single cup before her, dark drink untouched, cold, forgotten. The midday sun made a half-hearted effort to gleam on her hair and stroke warm fingers across her cheeks. The people on the square – armed guards by the large buildings, citizens of substance crossing the stones on important business, apprentices and messengers scampering around the edges – might as well not have been there for all the attention she paid them.

On the seat beside her rested a fine travel cloak and pack of good leather. The boots on her feet had surely not walked more than half a dozen leagues. From the lack of mud and shit, she’d covered little more than the shortest distance from the riverside docks to get here.

Gneffen the Snake spied her like his namesake spotting its prey. And like his namesake he made a careful, camouflaged approach.

“Which of those buildings is the source of your unhappiness?” he asked. His voice was precisely modulated: sympathy, mild interest, even milder amusement, but most of all harmless friendliness. “The College or the Guildhouse?”

The woman looked up, eyes wide, glancing this way and that. Gneffen smiled back and gestured out across the square. “The two large buildings opposite. I can’t decide which one you’ve been staring at all this time.”

Here's the thing though. Usually for S&S I'd start wide and zoom in. Something like this (cut and pasted from the version above, so the paragraphs might not flow together as smoothly as they otherwise might):

Gold Square bustled with importance. Citizens of substance crossed its stones on their business, apprentices and messengers scampered around its edges. By the large buildings stood armed guards in the liveries of guilds, wealthy families, small temples and other institutions that felt the cost was justified by the riches within their walls.

Even the sun seemed unwilling to interrupt the weighty concerns of this hub of commerce and debate. Instead, it made a half-hearted effort to gleam on the hair of a woman sitting alone at a table by the window of Prenicky’s Coffe House. A single cup stood before her, dark drink untouched, cold, forgotten.

She was the picture of a newcomer to the City, and a naïve one at that. Her soft green gown spoke of moderate wealth, and her soft features and hands spoke of a sheltered upbringing. Beneath a smooth brow, large brown eyes gazed wistfully across Gold Square, and the full red lips were set in a disappointed pout.

On the seat beside her rested a fine travel cloak and pack of good leather. The boots on her feet had surely not walked more than half a dozen leagues. From the lack of mud and shit, she’d covered little more than the shortest distance from the riverside docks to get here.

Gneffen the Snake spied her like his namesake spotting its prey. And like his namesake he made a careful, camouflaged approach.

“Which of those buildings is the source of your unhappiness?” he asked. His voice was precisely modulated: sympathy, mild interest, even milder amusement, but most of all harmless friendliness. “The College or the Guildhouse?”

The woman looked up, eyes wide, glancing this way and that. Gneffen smiled back and gestured out across the square. “The two large buildings opposite. I can’t decide which one you’ve been staring at all this time.”

So, which appeals more?

 

[TheLobster]

Here's the opening:

• Fourth paragraph to introduce the narrator in; that's way too late. How about "She was the picture of a newcomer to the City, easily discerned by Gneffen's seasoned eye."?
• Soft gown and soft features, eh? That whole sentence need some more specific words. What fabric of the gown? How are hands unsullied exactly? What is "moderate wealth"? A merchant? A low-status noble?
• I wouldn't anthromorphize the sun like that. It just reads weird. Creepy even. Maybe that's the effect you're going for.
• The "people on the square" asks to be a separate paragraph, perhaps with some targeted repetition of syntax and a punchy short sentence at the end.
• Why is the cloak fine and the leather good? What are they made from?
• A little more detail on the boots. The observation about their state is good, though.
• I'd rather repeat the "snake" than "namesake". And I'd definitely drop "slither" in there.
• Is this how he should address her? Seems a bit too informal. I think his first question should show more deference but of course that depends on the exact details of the setting.

I do agree that starting wide would probably be better. Something about the coffee house first, how crowded it is, etc., and then focus on the woman. Not bad overall though.

 

[AG31]

• Fourth paragraph to introduce the narrator in; that's way too late. How about "She was the picture of a newcomer to the City, easily discerned by Gneffen's seasoned eye."?

This worked fine for me.

• Soft gown and soft features, eh? That whole sentence need some more specific words. What fabric of the gown? How are hands unsullied exactly? What is "moderate wealth"? A merchant? A low-status noble?

I like the understated quality of the narration. "Soft, soft" and the reader supplies their version of soft. Don't clutter it up with specifics.

• I wouldn't anthromorphize the sun like that. It just reads weird. Creepy even. Maybe that's the effect you're going for.

Eh. What you wrote doesn't bother me, but it doesn't particularly work for me. Well... maybe it is a touch creepy.

• The "people on the square" asks to be a separate paragraph, perhaps with some targeted repetition of syntax and a punchy short sentence at the end.

I disagree. Keeping it all in the same paragraph underscores the point that it is all about her perceptions, not about the people on the square.

• Why is the cloak fine and the leather good? What are they made from?

Same comment as I made above about "soft." I would find too much specific description of ancillary stuff a distraction.

• A little more detail on the boots. The observation about their state is good, though.

See above.

• I'd rather repeat the "snake" than "namesake". And I'd definitely drop "slither" in there.

I agree that this sentence is a little awkward.

• Is this how he should address her? Seems a bit too informal. I think his first question should show more deference but of course that depends on the exact details of the setting.

Think of a better opening line from Gneffen.

 

[VallesMarineris]

It's been a while since I made much progress with writing sword & sorcery, but yesterday the muse decided to bless her devoted servant with her presence, or something like that. I've had an idea for a new story in the City of Scum. Sleazy conman seduces an innocent but gets caught up in more trouble than he expected.

Here's the opening:


Here's the thing though. Usually for S&S I'd start wide and zoom in. Something like this (cut and pasted from the version above, so the paragraphs might not flow together as smoothly as they otherwise might):

So, which appeals more?

I find the first version much more appealing. The good guy in me wants to keep watching over her to make sure she doesn't come to harm, while the bad guy in me want to keep watching . . . for other reasons.

My only suggestion for improvement would be to have your narrator give a hint or two of his reasons for observing her, and why it's important to him to tell her story.

 

[ColtonWrites]

I'd love to get some honest criticism on a scene from my most recent piece - its scheduled for publication so Im a little late but Im still curious to hear what people think. I'm not usually this flowery with descriptions, but since one of the main characters is a chef it seemed important to include descriptions of the food. I was trying to capture the perspective of a novice who was trying hard to understand his new boyfriend's world. Like the chef would have described the nori lemonade as "umami" but I can't see Stephan (the POV character) using that word.

For context, Stephan is visiting Thomas at his restaurant, Salt, during early dinner service. Earlier he'd been in the kitchen helping with prep but he got out of the way once the staff got too busy. He starts out sitting at the bar.

---

The restaurant opened for real and a few early diners arrived for the first seating. Mark took my completed bowls, added them to the flight trays along others, and dispersed them amongst the tables. I sat quietly, watching the serving staff flow around me.

Daniel had called Thomas a "soft Dom" but it was obvious to me how much he liked order and control. The staff was impeccable, uniformed and polite. Every table was neatly prepared before the customers approached. Drinks were offered, poured, refilled, without the patrons even having to ask.

Thomas stepped out from the kitchen again, carrying a plate. He drew curious glances as he headed straight for me — some of the diners clearly knew him, and just as clearly wondered who I was to him. Thomas ignored them, taking me by the elbow and guiding me to a secluded corner booth.

He set the plate in front of me, then slid into the booth next to me. It was a wide, shallow white bowl, slightly warm where I touched it. The fish in the center still had the skin on one side, golden-brown and crispy. The white sauce —beurre blanc, I remembered—was drizzled on top, a sprinkling of green herbs providing an accent.

Scattered around and under the fish were the carrots I'd chopped, glossy with a coating of honey. Their bright orange color stood out vividly against the plate. A few slivers of almond peeked out.

A tiny dish of pearly white salt flakes was placed carefully on one corner of the platter. Thomas sprinkled a pinch of it over the fish. Against the ivory whiteness of the beurre blanc, I could see the pink undertone of the irregular grains.

"It's beautiful," I breathed, staring at the dish. I couldn't believe my fumbling attempts to help had been involved in the creation of something so exquisite.

"Wait until you taste it." Thomas was already holding a fork. He cut into the fish with the side of it, the white flesh easily flaking away. Thomas lifted the bite to my lips. I opened and allowed him to feed it to me. The fish almost melted in my mouth, the buttery sauce coating my tongue. He speared a bit of carrot next, slipping it into my mouth before I finished swallowing.

I chewed slowly, the flavors mingling. The sweet, crunchy carrot provided a nice contrast to the richness of the sauce and the softness of the fish.

Thomas watched my expression with obvious enjoyment.

"That's…amazing," I said, finally.

"And you helped me make it." There was an obvious note of pride in his tone—not just for the food, but for his role in teaching me.

Thomas signaled a waiter. "A nori lemonade cocktail, please, for my friend." He caught my eye. "It's non-alcoholic," he assured me.

He fed me a few more bites of the fish before regretfully getting to his feet. "Enjoy the meal. I need to get back to the kitchen. But if you stay a bit longer, we can have dessert together."

I smiled warmly. "I'd like that."

As Thomas walked away, my drink arrived, a sparkling pale liquid over crushed ice with crushed seaweed decorating the rim of the glass. I took a cautious sip.

It was like no other drink I'd tried. A little salty, a little sweet. The acid cut through the fattiness from the trout well, but I would have to drink it slowly.

I took my time with the rest of my trout. Other diners came and went, the restaurant running around me.
---

 

[StillStunned]

Thanks for this feedback!

• Fourth paragraph to introduce the narrator in; that's way too late. How about "She was the picture of a newcomer to the City, easily discerned by Gneffen's seasoned eye."?

I like to set the scene before introducing the POV character. It lets me focus on the story once the interactions begin. (See also REH's "The Tower of the Elephant", where Conan isn't introduced until the reader has a good idea of *where* he is.)

• I wouldn't anthromorphize the sun like that. It just reads weird. Creepy even. Maybe that's the effect you're going for.

You could be right, it's probably a bit much. Sun stroking a character's skin is of my bad writing habits.

• I'd rather repeat the "snake" than "namesake". And I'd definitely drop "slither" in there.

He's a conman doing his best to seem harmless. So he doesn't slither, he just disguises his motives.

• Is this how he should address her? Seems a bit too informal. I think his first question should show more deference but of course that depends on the exact details of the setting.

The City of Scum is very informal.

I do agree that starting wide would probably be better. Something about the coffee house first, how crowded it is, etc., and then focus on the woman. Not bad overall though.

Thanks!

 

[StillStunned]

Eh. What you wrote doesn't bother me, but it doesn't particularly work for me. Well... maybe it is a touch creepy.

Noted. See my reply to Lobster above.

I agree that this sentence is a little awkward.

Think of a better opening line from Gneffen.

Thanks!

 

[StillStunned]

I find the first version much more appealing. The good guy in me wants to keep watching over her to make sure she doesn't come to harm, while the bad guy in me want to keep watching . . . for other reasons.

It's the City of Scum. Bad things happen to good people. Bad things happen to bad people. It's just a bad place.

My only suggestion for improvement would be to have your narrator give a hint or two of his reasons for observing her, and why it's important to him to tell her story.

His motives are explained at the end of the scene - if it wasn't already clear that he's a conman/creep looking for a target.

 

[AG31]

Apologies if there's nothing substantive here, but I just can't stay away from diddley squat corrections.

The restaurant opened for real and a few early diners arrived for the first seating. Mark took my completed bowls, added them to the flight trays along

with

others, and dispersed

"dispersed" probably accurate, but sounds a little formal. It leaped out at me, interrupted the flow. Probably just me.

them amongst the tables. I sat quietly, watching the serving staff flow around me.

Daniel had called Thomas a "soft Dom" but it was obvious to me how much he liked order and control. The staff was

I think staff is plural... Staff were impeccable.

impeccable, uniformed and polite. Every table was neatly prepared before the customers approached. Drinks were offered, poured, refilled, without the patrons even having to ask.


He set the plate in front of me, then slid into the booth next to me.

Re-work so as not to repeat "to me" so close together.

It was a wide,

I think it would work better if you left out "wide."

shallow white bowl, slightly warm where I touched it. The fish in the center still had the skin on one side, golden-brown and crispy. The white sauce —beurre blanc, I remembered—was drizzled on top, a sprinkling of green herbs providing an accent.

"provided" instead of "providing" might keep the flow crisper.

A tiny dish of pearly white salt flakes was placed carefully on one corner of the platter.

Leave out "carefully." In this scene there's no evidence of how it was placed.

If it works for your story to spend time on the food, then I think you did a good job with the description. There's an air of reverence that probably echoes the relationship.

 

[iwatchus]

I would love to be told what I did wrong on a section of a recent story (my first Winter Event story). This is part of two similar chunks that I couldn't get to work the way I thought they should. As some background, this is the start of the scene as they are trying to get to her family cabin during a major blizzard. She pulled about 100 feet into a long driveway before the car wouldn't push through the snow any further. This is the start of the scene immediately after that. The narrator is Jenny, experienced in hiking in winter conditions. Josh, the only other human in the car, is not comfortable with winter. And yes it's in 1P present for those who hate that.

“Um, I can’t open my door,” Josh says, almost in a panic.

“Me neither. I’m going to roll down my window and climb out. I will come around and release you in a few minutes. I need you to roll my window back up once I’m out, so the car doesn’t fill up with snow.”

The howling of the wind becomes obvious as I roll down my window. Then the cold air hits my face with snow. The first few flakes are soft, landing gently on my face. But it’s cold. I wish my coat was accessible from up here. I close my eyes for a moment to brace myself.

It took me longer than I hoped to shimmy out my window, leading to a faceplant in the snow, which comes almost up to window level. As soon as I wiggle my feet out, Josh does his part, reaching over to close my window behind me.

I take a moment to take in the surroundings. My memory is that it’s about a half moon, but even the small amount of light seeping through the heavy clouds is reflected around by the white, giving the entire scene a faint glow to it. When the swirl of snow clears for a moment, I can barely see the outline of the cabin three quarters of a mile up the slope.

Then an arctic blast slaps me in the face and the cabin disappears back into the thick snow falling all around me. I’m starting to sink into the snow. It’s bitter cold out here, I need to get my coat on. This next part is not going to be fun.

I spin around to face the car and slide my legs down into the snow. I now painstakingly force myself along the side of the car, creating a gap between the car and the waist-deep snow behind me. All of me is being frozen, either by the metal of the car or the snow, packed against the back of my legs and butt. My back and my head are being coated by the freshly falling snow.

 

[Djmac1031]

Funny seeing this thread again. Just yesterday I found an old, VERY rough draft of the third story i ever published here, The Jenna Arrangement Pt.1.

For fun, and perhaps as a learning exercise for some newer writers here, I'm gonna post a few excerpts and let you all critique away. I'm sure you'll all spot the same cringe worthy mistakes i have.

Her screen name read "Jenna62402" and the picture she used for her avatar looked like a real person. Young, red hair, short, stylish cut that fell across her face beautifully, not quite shoulder length. Lovely green eyes, and a beautiful, very girl next door face. Not a supermodel, not exactly a Plain Jane either. Just a natural young beautiful woman.

This one in particular makes my teeth grind.

The walk to her dorm room was short and quiet. It was a warm evening but a nice breeze that I enjoyed watching blow Jenna's lovely red hair around her face.

If I ever write dialog like this again, someone please take away my phone and smash it with a hammer:

She smiled, relaxed. "Yeah ok. No really, it's a nice dick. Big, but not TOO big. I'd guess, what? 6 and a half? 7 inches?"

"Just under 7" I answered.

And thats just a few.

Some of these unfortunately are still in the story i think. Makes me wanna do a complete revision.

 

[Areala-chan]

A trouser snake described as being less than a foot long? WTF were you thinking, my dude? Did you forget you were writing for Literotica?

 

[Djmac1031]

A trouser snake described as being less than a foot long? WTF were you thinking, my dude? Did you forget you were writing for Literotica?

Yeah, that was me striving for realism. And yet I still wrote that cringy dialog