Tales of the Parodyverse >> View Post
·
Post By
HH

In Reply To
Anime Jason 
Owner

Location: Here
Member Since: Sun Sep 12, 2004
Posts: 2,834
Subj: Comments on Ch 1.
Posted: Tue Jan 19, 2016 at 09:11:36 am EST (Viewed 3 times)
Reply Subj: One Chapter sample of in-progress World Class novel.
Posted: Sat Jan 16, 2016 at 04:34:17 pm EST (Viewed 412 times)



    Quote:
    Chapter 1: Run

        Run, she thought to herself.  Run, because there is no other choice.


Good start, in media res, getting us right into the head of the main character

    
    Quote:
    She wanted to give up.  Her lungs burned, her breaths had become short and raspy.  Her legs screamed at her to stop, and her feet had become numb.  The small backpack she carried with all of her remaining worldly belongings, one strap over each shoulder, weighed upon her like a boulder now.  But she could not stop - because she was hunted, by the very people she worked with.

        Worked with.  Not trusted, she reminded herself.

        As she exited the cleanly pruned streets of civilization, and pushed into a field of high grass, light was starting to fade, day turned to evening.  She hoped it would be enough cover to allow her to slow down a little, to catch her breath.  The loud crack of a rifle in the distance showed her otherwise.  These people were deadly accurate, and they were not playing a game.  The bullet from that rifle sliced off the top of a weed bloom just beside her head, scattering white feathery plumes all over her black clothing, and increasing her feelings of fear and urgency.  She ducked lower, hoping to be obscured even more by the weeds, and pushed herself harder.


Nice pan out, very cinematic. We start in her head and we pull outwards from there. Now we're surveying the whole scene.

    
    Quote:
    A howl of a train horn directly in front of her made her heart nearly jump out of her chest.  First one long wail, and then two shorter ones.  She felt hope at possibly having an escape - that was the sound of a train approaching a crossing, and she was very close to it.  Maybe if it slowed down enough, she could board it.  The second sounding of the horn was much louder.  It sounded almost close enough to touch now.


Good use of active descriptors ("wail") and linking action descriptions back to personal perceptions. Sophisticated techique.

    
    Quote:
    When she emerged on the other side of the weeds, there was a neatly cut path around a set of two train tracks.  The noisy train she heard blew its horn once more as the engine passed by her.  That’s when she realized it was moving much faster than she thought.  Still, it was her only chance.

        She began running alongside the train, trying to build up enough speed to match its speed so she could jump aboard.  But it was no use - the train was moving much faster than she could run, and it was starting to accelerate.  There was no choice, she would have to take her chances and jump for it.  It’s either die now, she thought, or wait for them to catch me.

        Without a second thought, as was often her way in her previous employment, she leaped and grabbed ahold of the silver railing with both of her gloved hands.  She clung for dear life as she was torn violently from the ground.  Her shoulders, wrists, and elbows screamed from the strain, but she hung on.  The violent force swung her around, and slammed her hard against the steel blue painted wall of the train car, and she cried out from the pain.  But she still hung on, that railing being her lifeline.

        Then she fell, only a short distance to the narrow metal maintenance platform of the train car.  Still hanging on to the railing out of sheer habit, she breathed hard, an exhausted and raspy breath, trying to stem the flood of pain and emotion.  The two broke her down, and she closed her eyes to silently let tears flow at the happiness of making it to safety and still being alive.


"The two broke her down" is probably the first bit of prose I've enountered that might need smoothing out.

    
    Quote:
    She didn’t even hear the door of the train cabin open.  A dark blue uniformed, hunched over and greying black man look at her in disbelief.  His presence was unknown to her until she heard him utter the first words of kindness she had heard in a long while:

        â€œOh my god,”  he said.  “Are you all right?”

        Then he turned his attention back inside the car, where he announced that he needed help, and a doctor.

        A clean-cut muscular man in a tight black tee-shirt and jeans came outside, looking concerned and confused at how this small Asian woman could have managed to board the train while it was moving.  He shuffled his way to her on the narrow platform, and offered her a hand.  She took it, and as he lifted her clear off of the platform, she grabbed ahold of his massive arm with her other hand.

        She was impressed with his strength.  Not so much because he was strong, but because he was using it for kindness, to help, rather than to show off and hurt people.  She had worked far too long with men whose only purpose was to harm people, and she was always wary of them.  He was the first man she met in a while that she didn’t feel afraid of.


Strong choice to keep this from Keiko's POV. I think the two paragraphs above need a little unpacking, perhaps with a bit of dialogue to leaven the description. Dragging Keiko in and her meeting another cast member needs to occupy the reader's attention for just a bit longer, so they're ready for the next bit.

Also, since we're in Keiko's head we could learn a bit more about her personality by flitting through her judgements and conclusions at this point. She had a unique way of analysing and here's an early place to showcase that. Don't be afraid to italicise her internal dialogue as you did in the opening sentences. If we see her thinking strong then that's more personal and immediate than the narrator noting that's what she thought.


    
    Quote:
    Those thoughts faded quickly once the old black man in the uniform called him ‘marshal’.  Not as in the first name, but as in U.S. Marshal Service.  In her former line of work, she had been conditioned to distrust and avoid law enforcement.  Even now as she freed herself, it still gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

        Another man with glasses stuck his head around the corner, but was apparently too afraid to go outside.  He asked the Marshal to bring her inside so he could look at her.  That man was apparently a doctor.  The old man called him ‘doctor’, anyway.

        Once inside the train, the Marshal placed her on the floor with the backpack as a pillow.  The old man closed the door and latched it, and then stood over her to watch the doctor work.  The Marshal did the same.


Felt there was a bit of reaction missing here about the Marshal asking how she came to be there. Perhaps just an exchange about "Ask her when she's able to answer about..." to explain why nobody wants to make a deal about her train-jumping now, even the Marshal who might reasonably be expected to do that as his job.

    
    Quote:
    “She’s scratched up a bit, and I think she strained both of her shoulders,”  the doctor said.  “She is in very good physical shape, though, so she’ll be okay.  Might hurt a lot later on.”  

        He looked up at the old man.  “See if you can get her a cabin and a blanket.  She’s going to go into shock soon, and she’ll need to be warm.  Sleep will do her some good.”

        â€œWe…we don’t have any spare cabins, doctor,”  the old man whispered sadly.

        â€œI have a dual, and I’m the only one in it.  She can bunk with me.”  the Marshal said.  He looked at her and asked, “Is that okay with you?”

        Once again, the Marshal’s gentle nature betrayed his distasteful work and prevented her from being afraid.  She nodded quietly.

        â€œCome on, let me help you up,”  he said.  

        He gently took the backpack, tossing it over his own shoulder.  It looked comically small over his muscled body.  With his free arm, he allowed her to hold on to pull herself up and hold on for stability.

        â€œI’m Michael,”  he said.  “What’s your name?”

        â€œKeiko,”  she whispered, struggling to speak the single syllable word.  The doctor was right, shock was setting in.  Her teeth were chattering.

        Michael sensed that, and hurried her to his nearby sleeper cabin. 


Don't switch to Micheal's head for one sentence. Either convert it to Keiko recognising that he sensed that, or switch at this point to his POV to let us see her from the outside, maybe with a scene break to emphasise the shift.


    Quote:
    When he opened the door, she realized why he was so charitable with it.  There were two seats, one on each side, with a table in between.  Just behind and above the seats were small beds.  So they would be sleeping across the room from each other.  A large picture window gave a view of the outside, with the faint red light of a nearly completely set sun.

        Almost as soon as they arrived, the old man delivered two blankets and bottles of water, placing all of them on the table.  Michael thanked him, calling him Fred.

        Keiko immediately unfolded the two blankets


Have we established Keiko's name before this? if not we need an introduction.


    Quote:
    - and noting that Michael already had one, she judged that the two new ones were both for her - and wrapped herself in them for warmth, curling up in the seat.  She would have gone straight to bed, but she could see the curiosity in Michael’s eyes.  He was still a U.S. Marshal after all.  There were questions floating around in his head, and he was dying to ask them.

        It wasn’t his fault, though, he lived his life as a protector of the innocent.  He saw a young woman in distress, who was being pursued, and he wanted to help.

        After an uncomfortable pause, where both of them almost knew it was coming, the first question finally was spoken.  “Who was chasing you?”, Michael asked.

        She stared at him silently at first, a look that was a mixture of a warning you don’t really want to know, and a pleading please don’t ask me that.

        But he persisted, and he wanted an answer.  She could have simply let him wait and enjoy the rest of the ride silently, but she had a powerful worry that enveloped her body in a fresh cold shiver.  Those people who pursued her would find out where the train was going, and they would track her there.  Then they would probably question, torture, and kill Michael.  And he would never know why.  He at least deserved to know that much.

        â€œThey are assassins,”  Keiko whispered.  “Professional ones.  They work for the government.”

        She watched Michael’s eyes widen as she told him that.  He didn’t expect it at all.  In fact, it looked to be the furthest thing from his mind, by his reaction. 


At this point, Michael the Marshal's reaction differed from my expectations of what he might logically do. My thoughts were:

1. Is this story set in a world where the goverment is known to use assassins? If not he takes this strange young woman's word very easily without question or proof.

2. Michael doesn't ask a bunch of questions that I (as the typical reader) might have asked, like "Why woukd the government send assassins after you?" "How did you survive them?" and "Are you kidding? Are you concussed?" A Marshal's logical thought might be "What bad thing did she do to merit that kind of response?"

3. Why does Michael immediately assume in the next sentence that these assasins will go after the whole train, as Keiko asserts in her next line after that? I felt that revelation, the next threat point, needed more work to set it up right.

On a different point, from here the POV gradually shifts to Michael. You might want to make that a definite move, because now we're in his head drawing impressions about Keiko. She's the stranger we're discovering now.



    Quote:
    All of the color drained from his face as he anticipated the next thing she was going to say.

        â€œThey will track me.  They will find you.  Then they will kill you.  Poor Fred, too.  Probably the doctor as well.”

        Michael swallowed hard, and thought for a moment.  “I have a field office in Las Vegas.  That’s where the train stops.  I’ll text them and have them waiting at the station when we arrive.”

        Keiko sighed.  “That will only delay them.”

        â€œWhat do you suggest, then?”  he asked.

        She leaned forward, and gave him her best icy glance, her eyes narrowed and pupils fixed upon his.  “You look into their eyes.  You see.  And you kill them before they kill you.”

        Michael knew exactly the look she meant, because he felt a palpable chill at the way she looked at him when she said that.  He swallowed hard again.

        After taking a minute or so to build his bravery back up, he finally asked her, “Were you one of them?”


The paragraph above feels too quick and easy, and "After taking a minute or so..." isn't the strongest way of putting it.

You could really unpack this moment to offer some worldbuilding context. What has Micheal heard/suspected about such agencies? How do assassins fit into the setting? What's the process behind Michael's chill and how does it lead his thinking to his question? Here's a chance to show us how Michael's head works and build up some respect for his skills too.


    
    Quote:
    Keiko continued staring at him for a moment, but she didn’t answer that question.  Instead, she dropped her boots into the seat, took her blankets, and crawled into the sleeping space, turning away from him to sleep.


Keiko POV again. Some signifier of the change would help the reader. Section break?

    
    Quote:
    After a short while, he gave up waiting for an answer, and went to sleep himself.  Except instead of using the sleeping space, he slept in the seat.  As she dozed off, Keiko heard that he didn’t move from his spot, and she wondered if he was keeping guard because he was afraid she might try to leave and disappear.  And she would find that she was right, because when she woke up, he was still there - and he looked to be relieved that she was, too.


Sorry, but time's caught up with me re commenting in detail. I'm sure I've made the points I'd want to feed back anyhow.

In general: I can tell this has gone through revisions, which have refined it well. The story has a stong opening and it introduces its principles well. It left me wanting to know more about Keiko's world (not so much about Michael's yet).

There's a bit of a POV blur, which you might attend to on another draft, but where you do get into the characters' heads it works well. More would be even better. That includes the internal monologues that convey impressions and background information. That's something of a signature of your best writing and you shouldn't be afraid to build on it.

You do good "widescreen" description shots and again, a few more establishing images placing the dialogue characters in context with enviroment will only enhance that movie-gloss feel that your World Class work always has.

My only concern is how trusting Michael and Keiko instantly are of each other. It doesn't neccessarily feel earned. Maybe if you lampshade that by having them note internally that each seems to implicitly believe and trust the other it becomes a plot and character point rather than a potential immersion-breaker.

I encourage you to continue working on this.


    





Posted with Mozilla Firefox 43.0 on Windows XP
On Topic™ © 2003-2024 Powermad Software
Copyright © 2003-2024 by Powermad Software