Descriptions are tough, man. How much to include? How much to leave out? What’s worth describing and what’s not? So, high time for another critique session — this one focused on a descriptive sentence or paragraph. Pick a sentence or paragraph from your current WIP (or hell, write a new one if you’re so inclined) — one focused on description. Character description is a good place to look, but you can nab a section describing setting or a weapon or an orangutan super-spy. I trust your judgment. Which is why I’m hiding behind this Plexiglas enclosure while the rest of you paw and slap at each other HA HA HA kidding it’s not Plexiglass it’s bulletproof Gorilla glass shut up. *dons bomb suit* *ducks*
Anyway.
Deposit the snippet of your work in the comments below.
No more than, say, 100 words, if you please.
Putting it in the comments means you’re open to critique and should be willing to critique the work put forth by others. Critique should be even-handed, and focus on good parts as well as parts that maybe didn’t work so well for you.
LET THE MAYHEM BEGIN.
Beth Turnage says:
Interesting image. It can be kicked up a notch by varying your sentence starts. (“He” and “his” is used 5 times as sentence starts, “they three times.”
Standing there was someone’s grandpa in a button-down shirt, khaki slacks and a tie no less . (Because his slacks aren’t button-down are they?) The clothes were clean and pressed with sharp lines. His short beard was gray; his closed cropped hair balding a the top. This could be a bank manager on his lunch break.
Normal. Nice, even
Except for the eyes. Irises, and sclera melted into the pupil, a solid black like marbles stuffed into his face where his eyes should be. They weren’t human; empty, dead and fixed on me.
June 16, 2014 — 3:18 PM
nlhartmann says:
Among the first things you noticed about him were gray green eyes with luxurious black lashes and a shadow of sadness. His skin was tanned, perhaps from the sun. His almost-black straight hair hung to the middle of his back. At 5’10”, he wasn’t a tall man, but his lean muscled body looked solid, having been sculpted by hundreds of miles of walking and thousands of hours of odd jobs – hard physical labor he’d taken to keep himself fed these past five years. And somehow, between work and wandering, he’d written a novel about his odyssey. He called it Coming Home.
June 16, 2014 — 3:26 PM
Beth Turnage says:
Nilhartmann,
Long black hair, muscled arms? What’s not to love?
I’d play around with the order of the descriptions to punch up interest.
For instance:
His lean, muscled body was sculpted by walking hundreds of miles and working thousands of hours of hard labor. Brown-black hair hung to the middle of his back. You would notice his gray-green eyes, shadowed by sadness, and framed by luxurious black lashes.. He survived by working, wandering and writing a novel about his travels. He called it “Coming Home.”
June 16, 2014 — 4:47 PM
familyfieldguide says:
Hemingway drops into second person now and again. I don’t mind if it is used intentionally, and only occasionally. Read A Moveable Feast, Hemingway’s memoir of his years in Paris.
June 17, 2014 — 3:06 PM
kira a. gold says:
I’d be careful with breaking that wall and dropping into second person in that first sentence. The “you” could be substituted for “most women, and quite a few men,” if you want to make it clear that the reader should find him sexually attractive (and with that description, it sounds like we should!) or even the ubiquitous “one,” if you want a bit of formal distance.
June 16, 2014 — 5:06 PM
Noel says:
There are great facts about the guy in there. I get a great feel for him–there’s a good sense of physical mass and personal background, and he seems like an interesting guy.
And yet, all I can think reading it is “who the hell is telling me this, and *why*?” The narration feels like it has a bias towards him, both in terms of how much time it spends on him and how attractive it seems to find him–and yet, it also feels like it’s an omniscient narrator. Why would an omniscient narrator have such a bias? (Also, if it *is* omniscient, why doesn’t it know whether his tan is from the sun? It knows for a fact that he’s 5’10” and works odd jobs, which seems like harder-to-get information.)
Long story short, being told that somebody is objectively hot or objectively interesting makes me automatically recalcitrant, even if I’d totally agree if the statements came in a different form. It’s possible this is an accident of cropping–the narrative voice may make more sense if you hear the whole story. It’s also possible that I’m unreasonable about omnipotent narration and you should ignore me.
June 16, 2014 — 6:03 PM
familyfieldguide says:
Here’s a note from one of my writing classes: Description involves the reader in the story world. However, when you pause for description, you stop movement, which can bog the story down to a fatal extent. If the description is too detached, and doesn’t involved the reader in what’s happening, you lose the reader. Use the five senses. Make it brief. Vivid. Pause minimally. Slide description into interesting places, such as around conflict. Laundry lists can be tedious. The key thing that stands out to the reader is overall impression. What are the key things you want the reader to grasp about the individual character?
Blend description into action, into dialogue. There are lots of places to put it.
June 17, 2014 — 3:24 PM
Mike W. says:
Description isn’t really my strong suit, but here goes:
…the door opened and a woman walked in. Looking as if she had stepped straight from the pages of a fashion magazine, she was, in a word, stunning. Tall and perfectly-proportioned, she walked with the practiced grace of someone who had spent years on the catwalk. Her golden-blonde hair fell over her shoulders in a perfect wave and when she smiled the room seemed to brighten, almost literally. Both men automatically rose as she stepped forward. She smiled without a trace of self-consciousness, as if she was accustomed to being the center of attention. She extended her hand and introduced herself as Katherine Williams.
June 16, 2014 — 3:27 PM
Kiara says:
Is this woman supposed to be irritatingly perfect? Because I dislike her already. There’s absolutely nothing I can find wrong with this, except it seems like she smiles twice?
June 16, 2014 — 5:35 PM
Mike W. says:
Yes, she does smile twice…I’ll have to change that second one to “she continued smiling”. And yes, she sort of IS meant to be annoyingly perfect 🙂
June 16, 2014 — 9:48 PM
kira a. gold says:
I’m guessing you are a “leg man.” (evil grin.)
In one paragraph, you use walked, stepped, walked (again), catwalk, and stepped (again). Maybe play with showing how she moves …one foot precisely in front of the other in killer stiletto heels, hips rocking with her stride… rather than telling us that she is graceful or stunning?
June 16, 2014 — 5:48 PM
Mike W. says:
Ha, you’re right about the “leg man” thing 😉 I hadn’t thought of more description of her walk etc. but I’ll consider it now.
June 16, 2014 — 9:51 PM
mikes75 says:
The fashion magazine/catwalk parts feel like overkill, I don’t think they’re necessary to get across her attractiveness given the rest of what you have.
Also, and this is kind of a niggling detail, but she extends her hand to two guys. I’m left imagining this poised woman now standing there with her hand out, waiting to see who takes it first. I think it’d work better if she extended her hand to a specific man, or introduced herself and waited for one of them to offer his hand first. Again, it’s a small point, but as is the over-eagerness of the gesture runs against the self-assured description.
June 16, 2014 — 7:43 PM
Mike W. says:
Actually, the character IS a former supermodel (which was mentioned earlier in the book…I never thought about mentioning here as background), so that’s why I stuck all the “catwalk” stuff in. You’re right about extending her hand to a specific person, I’ll definitely change that. 🙂
June 16, 2014 — 9:54 PM
M T McGuire says:
Actually, the supermodel stuff worked for me. What you could do, to get round the smiling twice, is say something like “her golden-blonde hair fell over her shoulders in a perfect wave and when she smiled, without a trace of self-consciousness, the room seemed to brighten.” you don’t need the almost literally. Then when both men stand, she could, perhaps, unerringly got to to to the most successful one. Which would make her even more annoying. Just a thought. If she continues smiling I think it would be weird, although as an alternative, her smile could widen, perhaps…
June 17, 2014 — 5:16 AM
Mike W. says:
Yeah, I was thinking about “her smile widened” or something along those lines; I’ll keep it in mind for my next edit 🙂
June 17, 2014 — 2:33 PM
Jana Denardo says:
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone intimated and off-put by a very clean bathroom before. this really works for me.
June 17, 2014 — 2:51 PM
familyfieldguide says:
Hi All, This is from a middle grade novel based on a true story. Thanks for any feedback!
Ah Po sat on the deck, legs crossed. Her bare toes rubbed back and forth. Enormous gold hoops swung from detached earlobes: three on the left and two on the right. “I see you brought roast duck.” she said, prodding the client’s plate with chopsticks.
Sunlight slipped through cracks in the canvas boat canopy, igniting a halo of salt-and-pepper frizz.. She started chanting, and with eyes half-closed,she rocked back and forth as though inhabited by a spirit. From my perch at the back of her sampan I watched Ah Po’s long braid dip up and down, like a calligraphy brush in search of an inkwell.
June 16, 2014 — 4:32 PM
kira a. gold says:
The detached earlobes catches me off guard; my immediate thought is that they are detached to the point that they swung from the previously mentioned bare toes, and why she would have more than one on each side made it more scifi than true life-
The braid like a calligraphy brush line is very special!
June 16, 2014 — 10:36 PM
M T McGuire says:
Agree with Kira. Loved the brush/calligraphy line but got muddled trying to work out what the ear lobes looked like, was it three hoops through a really big hole or what?
June 17, 2014 — 5:18 AM
familyfieldguide says:
I think over the years her earrings ripped through her lobes, causing the earlobes to split. So on one ear she had three separate divisions, and on the other, she had two. Gold hoops hung from each.
The image is fascinating – but expressing it with clarity and simplicity, not easy!
June 17, 2014 — 1:01 PM
Wendy Christopher says:
You’ve got some really original touches of imagery in here; the ones that work are very effective (the calligraphy brush in search of an inkwell. I have to ‘third’ the earlobes thing though; not only did I imagine her earlobes had fallen off somehow, but I read the second part as her having three EARLOBES on the left and two on the right. And I was a little unsure about the ‘igniting a halo of salt-and-pepper frizz’ – is this frizz Ah Po’s hair? I wasn’t sure because the next part says her hair’s in a long braid, and braiding hair normally STOPS it looking frizzy. If so, perhaps the long braid could be describes as ‘untidy’ or ‘loose’ just to clarify that. But I should all add that my alias is Mrs Pedantic, so feel free to disregard that advice if it fits that category. 😉
Other than that I like this a lot. You conveyed that Ah Po is not a sprightly young teen subtly but effectively, which is not easy to do in just one paragraph.
June 17, 2014 — 7:19 AM
familyfieldguide says:
Thanks so much for your detailed reply. I worked hard to include the frizz. From the way Ah Po’s real-life grand-daughter described it to me, her frizz was hair at the front that had changed texture due to aging. I have some of that, too. It’s kinky. I imagine her frizz like diaphanous ocean spray, picking up the light. It didn’t connect with the long braid down her back. I need to work on that. I envision it around her forehead, maybe her cheeks.
June 17, 2014 — 1:10 PM
Pat says:
Loved it! No revision necessary…can’t wait to read more!
June 17, 2014 — 12:25 PM
familyfieldguide says:
Thank you! Did you understand the part about the earlobes being detached? What image did that create for you?
Overall, I think this was a great opportunity to get some feedback. I just happened to be working on that paragraph when I got Chuck’s email offering the critique session.
June 17, 2014 — 1:14 PM
Jenni Cornell says:
This is a beautiful description, but I was also confused. Detached sounds like they came off. If they split, then detached is the wrong word. Like the notched ear of a sow or something.
June 17, 2014 — 10:51 PM
Jana Denardo says:
I’m actually shocked at how many people don’t know what a detached earlobe is (guess they’re not using that to teach genetics in school anymore). I get what you mean there, though it’s probably a detail that’s not that important. I liked the image of the braid as a calligraphy brush. While I like the idea of igniting a halo I’m less sure that frizz works here.
June 17, 2014 — 11:26 PM
familyfieldguide says:
Thank you. I’m glad I wasn’t too far out in left field with the detached earlobes. Still, I will have to rework the description so that middle-grade kids “get it.”
The little girl in the sampan is an adult now. She described her grandmother’s
earlobes to me as hanging in three fleshy blobs on one side and two on the other. They were probably normal at one time, then split by dangling earrings that ripped through them.
I agree with nixing the frizz as well. Light coming through cracks in the canvas boat canopy caused the halo effect, which is really the more important point.
Thanks so much!
June 18, 2014 — 1:40 PM
Jana Denardo says:
You’re welcome
June 18, 2014 — 2:01 PM
E.E. says:
The earlobes are fine. I’m not quite sure what everyone is struggling with here.
I think I can understand where you’re coming from with the ” halo of salt and pepper frizz”, however it wasn’t all that clear to me that you were talking about her hair, until you mentioned it in a subsequent comment. For some reason I kept envisioning the sun cast across dust motes in the air. Hrmm. Could just be me, though.
June 20, 2014 — 10:19 AM
Michelle says:
“Detached” earlobes or unattached earlobes used to be used as an example in basic biology class of an example of genetics, the myth being that people have either attached or detached earlobes, that it’s genetic, and that one gene controls the trait. I don’t think that’s being taught anymore because it’s not true that one gene controls the trait. At least that’s my understanding. But in any case, I’m pretty sure a middle-grader (or most young adults) would “get it” so it’s probably better to take out. It’s not that important to the description is it, so why not take it out so that people can focus on what IS important?
June 20, 2014 — 11:09 AM
familyfieldguide says:
I think maybe you’re right. I like the idea of “detached earlobes,” but the image I was going for was “split” lobes. Detached doesn’t do it.
June 24, 2014 — 10:35 PM
familyfieldguide says:
Yes, E.E. Dust motes were what I had in mind. But I will work on it. Thanks for the thumbs up on the earlobes!
June 24, 2014 — 10:32 PM
Johan says:
I had plenty of time to memorize the place where I went from boy to man.
Two dirt-brown houses at the foot of a gently curving hill. A slow-moving creek with a row of bent alder trees. And between that and the horizon, an endless expanse of heather and yellow grass, only disturbed by the cowering silhouettes of juniper shrubs trying to get away from the never-ending winds.
But nobody ever saw all that. All they ever looked at was the wooden cross watching over the spot where the paths from the north and the ones from the ocean met the high road that went straight into the west. I don’t know if anyone ever cared to measure how tall it was, and numbers don’t interest me, but I’ve still to see a house that could match it.
And although I spent all those months there, I never was able to figure out who kept putting fresh flower at it’s base.
June 16, 2014 — 4:38 PM
familyfieldguide says:
This is wonderful writing – a seamless weaving of description and story. You take chances. Push your words one step further to lead the reader down the road.
June 16, 2014 — 4:56 PM
kira a. gold says:
Lovely and evocative. I’d take out “silhouettes”. Cowering bushes are more immediately interesting than their silhouettes! Watch your punctuation, too. You’ve got 3 hyphenated words in as many sentences, and “it’s” is only ever used as a contraction for “it is.”
June 16, 2014 — 5:36 PM
Kiara says:
You have some lovely images here, especially the cowering bushes. I had to read it several times before I figured out that the cross is supposed to be bigger than a house, though. I think you should play around with your sentence structure a bit too make that clearer.
An example: “All they ever noticed was the spot where the northern paths and the ocean ones stretch out into the high road to the west. There stood a wooden cross. Numbers don’t interest me, so I don’t know if they ever measured, but no house I’d seen could match it.”
June 16, 2014 — 5:42 PM
The Jennifer Diaries says:
If this is a finished manuscript, you should query it. You have a distinct and evocative voice! Good luck.
June 17, 2014 — 12:01 AM
Johan says:
This one is far from finished, but I’m getting there with the setting and the backbone of the story. Still trying to decide whether to use first or third person, leaning towards first this time.
Thank you for your kind words, I’ll keep them with me as I push this story as far as it can go!
June 18, 2014 — 2:25 AM
Johan says:
Wow, that “it’s” will haunt me for some time. Thank you for finding it. I’ll find replacements for the hyphenated words as well.
Also, thanks for the advice on sentence structure. I wasn’t really happy with how it came out, there are too many word. I’ll take your advice and tighten it up, maybe just leave “where the roads met” instead of all the blabbering about roads and paths.
June 17, 2014 — 2:22 AM
Pat says:
Loved it! No revision necessary…can’t wait to read more!
June 17, 2014 — 12:26 PM
jrupp25 says:
I posted a critique. I suppose I should be brave and post a description for comment. 125 words but Hell, everyone is breaking the rules today.
Charlie wisely stopped talking, but followed close behind her, one step for every two of hers. She twisted her boot heel on a stone and faltered but he was there to catch her by the elbow in an instant. She silently cursed. Damn his owl eyes. To add insult to injury, he steered her back toward the door to her cottage after she had gone a few steps past it. She was seething. Billie fumbled for the knob in the dark, opened the door and groped blindly for the light switch. Why hadn’t she thought to leave a damn light on? Charlie calmly reached in and flicked it on. She gritted her teeth and bit back the urge to call him a very bad name.
June 16, 2014 — 4:44 PM
kira a. gold says:
Good emotions through actions in this scene. You get that she’s pissed, and he is caring–in fact, I’d take out the “She was seething” because we already know. I think what might help to tweak it a bit is to work on flow. Keep the opening and closing sentences the short punchy ones, and work the body of paragraph into longer, more complex phrases; it might smooth it out.
June 16, 2014 — 5:26 PM
Noel says:
I love the sense of powerlessness and constraint. I don’t know the situation that makes the guy so much better at everything than she is, but I feel her frustration about it in every sentence. Lovely. I hate the guy too.
Two things:
I thought “to add insult to injury” was a little cliched–her thoughts are so strong, and that phrase feels overused enough to me that it becomes dilute and almost meaningless.
And this may be just because I haven’t seen the paragraphs before it, but you name her in a weird place in the text. I don’t know exactly how to articulate the rules about when you name someone vs. use “she,” but I think naming is usually at the beginning of a thought or set of actions, not the middle. (For instance: “Billie seethed and fumbled for the knob in the dark”)
(But again, this might look absolutely completely normal if I’d seen Billie’s name come up in the paragraphs before this.)
Anyway, love it.
June 16, 2014 — 5:42 PM
Maure says:
Yeah, everyone seems to be posting more than 100.
Anyway – I’m curious about the context on this, because I can read it as a romance or horror or a number of other things and it has a different tone each way.
My main suggestion is ‘she was seething’ seems unnecessary – you’re already conveying quite well that she’s seething.
Also, I’m not sure what ‘damn his owl eyes’ is supposed to mean – except maybe because he… saw her falling? – but man, I love the sound of it.
June 16, 2014 — 5:43 PM
Kiara says:
Re: owl eyes, I’m picturing her resentful because he can see better in the dark, like an owl at night.
June 16, 2014 — 5:49 PM
Noel says:
I was also suspecting the “owl eyes” was a seeing in the dark thing.
It’s a good point that it could be read in very different ways, depending. We may be set up for Billie to see her error and realize how wonderful Charlie is, or maybe her humiliation is part of the dark side of Charlie, or maybe she’s fuming about an issue of her own and Charlie is simply a bystander.
June 16, 2014 — 6:23 PM
familyfieldguide says:
Your paragraph doesn’t really fit the assignment, as there really isn’t much in the way of description.
If I may comment anyway, you might consider building on the scene. Add dialogue.
In my opinion, what the paragraph needs is tightening up. Swap adverbs and much of the passive voice for active verbs.
Phrases like “to add insult to injury” are considered cliches. You probably want to avoid them.
June 16, 2014 — 6:33 PM
kira a. gold says:
see, and this is where I would (good-naturedly, of course) disagree. I think the actions of both these characters very effectively describes the dynamic between them, and shows us a lot about who they are, without flat out “telling.”
Description is such a broad word-
June 16, 2014 — 10:45 PM
jrupp25 says:
Thank you. Everyone. Cutting the insult to injury (and looking for more cliches like it), cutting seething (even though I love that verb/adverb) and I’m very intrigued by the idea of short punchy sentences at the beginning and end. I’m going to keep this in mind throughout. It’s a romance, of course. Trying to describe characters through action because I’m slap bad at the raven hair and crystal blue eyes thing. This whole thread is a glorious education.
June 17, 2014 — 7:17 AM
familyfieldguide says:
What happens in passive voice is “telling” rather than “showing.” When you “show,” you create a mental image for the reader. If you say “he was there,” or “she was seething,” you are “telling.” If a character is there to catch someone, show a physical action: “He jumped,” for instance. If a character is angry, show physical manifestations of anger: “Her hands balled into fists.” Just a few examples. It took me a while to catch on when I was first learning how to do this.
When you write out a scene, trying using “stimulus/response structure. That means there needs to be a response for every stimulus or action. You have run the whole scene together, so you might want to consider separating each character’s actions and giving each its own line. For every stimulus, create a response. (Remember to include all the characters you have written into the scene. If the stimulus is physical, you need a physical response.
Check out the book Scene and Structure, by Jack Bickham. It will teach you how to do this. And it will teach you how to write the characters’ responses in logical order: Emotion/feeling, thought, action, speech. (This order is how humans operate.)
One place where you can put the action in more logical order is in this line: “…he steered her back toward the door to her cottage after she had gone a few steps past it.”
The time to let your readers inside the MC’s head is after the scene, in the sequel. That’s when your POV character has a chance to reflect on everything that just happened. They react emotionally to what happened, review events (you can pick and choose what you want the reader to remember) analyze their options and make a decision, which becomes their next scene goal.
June 17, 2014 — 12:54 PM
jrupp25 says:
Re Your incredibly helpful comment below: Thank you. It took me several reads to understand and absorb, but just these few paragraphs are revelatory. Really clear. And I will look for Jack Bickham’s book.
June 18, 2014 — 10:33 AM
Teddy Fuhringer says:
Rat scooped up his mug of ale, rose from his table in the corner, and moved to join the conversation. The steady clomp of his boots against the squeaky floorboards filled the otherwise silent tavern. He studied them as he approached. The stable hand sat at the table with two men; one older, one younger. Both wore fine wool cloaks that did little to hide the bulk of their coin purses.
Merchants. Rat smiled. My lucky night.
He effortlessly navigated the maze of pine tables and chairs that filled the common room of The Westbridge Inn. Small orange lanterns cast a warm glow over the furnishings and patrons alike. A crackling fire in the stone hearth kept the winter chill at bay.
He approached their table, smiled at the merchants and pointed at the stable hand. “He’s telling it wrong.”
“So?” whined the young man. “It’s my story. I can tell it any way I want.”
June 16, 2014 — 4:52 PM
kira a. gold says:
This is fun. I think the whole sequence could be tightened up a bit by simply taking out “He studied them as he approached.” The fact that you are describing them in detail tells us he is looking at them intently.
June 16, 2014 — 5:12 PM
Teddy Fuhringer says:
Thank you Kira! You are so right. I missed that. 🙂
June 16, 2014 — 10:53 PM
Sare says:
I like it! It feels like he’s about to scam or rob them, without making it too obvious. One question: if the tavern was silent aside from his boots, how could they have been having a conversation? I could have read it wrong, but it still threw me for a bit of a loop.
June 16, 2014 — 8:12 PM
Teddy Fuhringer says:
Thanks for the encouragement Sare. Silent may be the wrong word. In the preceding paragraph (which I didn’t include to keep the word count down) we see Rat actually interrupt the conversation from across the tavern. So everyone has fallen silent. But the way I describe it does leave it ambiguous.
June 16, 2014 — 10:56 PM
pathaydenjones says:
I’m thinking you’ve read some Fritz Lieber, and we could use some more of that! Overall sets a comfortable and familiar stage and I’d like to read more. Same issue with the sound as already noted, so I think you need to clarify – is the tavern almost empty? One way to do that is when describing the light – does it glow over the “mostly empty” furnishings for example. One last comment – as another reader of this sort of tale…if they are at table, how are their purses visible? Chairs not stools so table covers front, chairback obscures from the rear. Perhaps the richness of their clothes alone is all ne needs to see?
June 16, 2014 — 10:47 PM
Teddy Fuhringer says:
Thank you Pat. I actually haven’t read Fritz Lieber but I’ve made a note of the name in my little book for later 🙂 The preceding paragraph shows why the tavern is silent, and the question of why the tavern is nearly empty is slowly revealed later in the chapter and the act. As for how their purses are visible, I visualized him approaching them from the side, their outer coats wide open, revealing their purses at their hips. But I didn’t describe this, and I realize now that leaves it unclear. I will give it some thought.
June 16, 2014 — 11:00 PM
kira a. gold says:
Rossi starts the columns, first with two knives, twin toss and flip, one-two, one-two, a straight line up in each hand. The handles are weighted nicely, they fall hilt down, perfect every time; she can pluck and spin them back up with barely any wrist movement at all. She adds a third from each palm at the same time, the vertical lines become overlapping ovals of a trio of blades, one-two-three, one-two-three. The difficulty lies in that both hands are working in the same direction, not in opposition, but she never falters. Her hands, unlike her brother’s, have no scars.
June 16, 2014 — 4:58 PM
Mike W. says:
This is pretty good…she sounds like quite the juggler! The only thing I might change is instead of “The difficulty lies in *that* both hands are working…” maybe you could try “The difficulty lies in both hands working…”; I dunno, it just reads a little smoother to me that way.
June 16, 2014 — 10:02 PM
kira a. gold says:
oh, nice catch. Thanks.
June 16, 2014 — 11:13 PM
familyfieldguide says:
You put me inside this ancient inn by creating a rich atmosphere. I can’t help but wonder why the place would be silent if there are other patrons and a crackling fire. It seems some sound would be inevitable, and perhaps even desirable.
June 16, 2014 — 5:04 PM
Teddy Fuhringer says:
Thanks for the encouragement Family 🙂 You are right, silent is the wrong word. The preceding paragraph shows why the patrons have fallen silent, but you are right there are little noises sounds that I could use to show that it’s quiet by contrast.
June 16, 2014 — 11:02 PM
Kiara says:
The sound seemed wrong, coming from beneath that piggish snout, the large horsey eyes. A quartet of horns rose up from the thing’s temples, two on each side that curled around each other and seemed almost delicate. Though they ended in points sharp enough for daggers. The creature’s onyx lips parted in a hideous grin, showing dark, razor-sharp teeth like deadly stalactites in a dank cave. What had I wrought? This creature would kill me, disembowel me with those horns and I would die in the damp darkness of this cave, so far underground that I would never again see the stars.
June 16, 2014 — 5:23 PM
kira a. gold says:
Oooh. Creepy, lovely.
A couple things- you use “seemed” twice and you don’t need to. Because you are using such clear imagery, we don’t need the distance or even the opinion of what it is. “The sound was too (something–I don’t know the context–too innocent? too pretty?), coming from that snout” and horns “that curled around each other, almost delicately” has even more impact.
You also use the cave as a description for the teeth while the describer is IN a cave, which is very cool, but I’d modify one or the other a bit to reinforce it: teeth like THE deadly stalactites in THIS dank cave” and/or the damp darkness of this “cavern.”
June 16, 2014 — 6:04 PM
Noel says:
Nice monster! Original-looking, and I was especially caught by the word “piggish.”
Onyx threw me a little because I tend to think of it meaning not only “black” but “hard,” making it a strange adjective for any mobile facial structure. “Though they ended in points sharp enough for daggers” might work better attached to the sentence before it–it’s structured so that it looks like it’s the start of a sentence, but then the sentence stops suddenly.
I can’t tell much about the narrator from this, though of course the rest of the story would help with that. His or her musings about the impending doom seem oddly detached, though–he/she is pondering the larger issues in a very philosophical, disembodied way, such that I don’t feel the physical fear or immediacy of the person standing there. There may well be an in-story reason for this, though.
June 16, 2014 — 6:31 PM
Mike W. says:
This sounds pretty good…kinda scary, since it sounds like the narrator is responsible for creating the monster. You could maybe use a comma after “delicate” instead of a period and have “though they ended in points…” as part of the preceding sentence, since it’s basically a subordinate clause anyway (or it reads like one to me, at least 🙂 )
June 16, 2014 — 10:09 PM
Barb says:
The gnarled branches of the tree wound and stretched like the muscular arms of a multi-limbed monster, deformed but infused with mammoth strength. The base of the trunk must have been about ten feet in diameter, the bark thick and rippling. The tree wore it like a knight wears chainmail. Its leaves were a distinct silvery green, feathered along their edges, an element of unexpected softness.
June 16, 2014 — 5:29 PM
kira a. gold says:
well done, all of it. I especially like the chainmail, though I’m getting conflicting metaphors with deformed monsters and softness and knights.
Also, a ten foot diameter at the base of a tree is not that huge… I’ve 17 year old pin oaks outside that are that big. I’d go with 20 feet, for more impact!
I’m really interested in what species of tree?
June 16, 2014 — 9:53 PM
Barb says:
Not sure what kind of tree species. It’s a recurring dream image I’m working into my WIP. Still needs refining.
June 16, 2014 — 11:57 PM
Jack says:
Good prose. I like the juxtaposition between the hardness of the tree and the softness of the leaves. I agree with Kira’s comment about conflicting metaphors. Are we supposed to be scared of the tree (a monster) or is it something less malevolent (a knight)? If a monster, consider changing the analogy of chainmail to something more monstrous, like scales.
June 17, 2014 — 9:58 AM
Barb says:
Thank you, Jack. Some good stuff to think about.
June 17, 2014 — 10:23 PM
Noel says:
From my WIP.
Alex was waiting for her in the usual spot, under the maple tree. Heather paused a moment to enjoy the sight of him before he noticed her, drinking in the earnest concentration of his long, angular face, the sharp corners of his shoulders and elbows, and the delicate contortion of his fine, long-fingered hands as he wrote something across his exposed left wrist. She liked the careless, asymmetric way he’d drawn up his skinny, black-clad knees, bracing his arm against them to write small, and she liked the intensity of his face when he thought no one was watching.
June 16, 2014 — 5:34 PM
Kiara says:
Not really a critique, but I like this! I’m picturing Alex looking like a young Professor Snape.
June 16, 2014 — 5:46 PM
Noel says:
I … am completely okay with this. Hee!
June 16, 2014 — 6:13 PM
kira a. gold says:
Pretty, pretty. You could pare it down a word or two, perhaps (but not much!) so we don’t get lost in the words, rather than the imagery. You don’t need “exposed” because he’s writing on his wrist, not his cuff, and I think that we would already assume he has skinny knees because his shoulders are sharp. The last phrase is gorgeous.
June 16, 2014 — 6:12 PM
London says:
Hi Mike,
You could do more with much less by picking one telling detail. You describe her as stepping from the pages of a fashion magazine, then describe what such a person typically looks like. While the fashion magazine description is a stereotype, if you’re going to go that direction, there’s not much need to add anything else. Better would be to find as aspect to her appearance that does the same thing without relying on typical clues. Or perhaps she’s not the stereotypical beauty, but her self-possession makes that irrelevant.
June 16, 2014 — 5:35 PM
Maure says:
OK! I’ve commented on a fair number of posts, so I guess it’s time to post something myself.
My problem is… I haven’t started my current WIP, and my most recent one is very sparse on description. So I’m having to dip back into my November project, which was rich on description due to taking place across a bunch of different worlds. So here goes, I guess. (200 words, the second half from a little later in the story. Hope it’s not cheating too much, I was just trying to get some pure description sans dialogue.)
The railroad station was guarded; two great bears stood on either side of the doors, beyond the fence that Elizabeth peered through. More than that, Elizabeth couldn’t imagine how it worked; the entire thing, including the train that slumbered in the station, seemed to be comprised of plants. Large purple flowers, closed in the nighttime air, nodded over the door-openings; branches formed handholds, and tightly twined vines made up the shape of the wheels, as far as she could make out in the dim moonlight. Mist drifted over the top of the strange train, although she didn’t know where it came from.
…This time the seed booth was empty, and they both dipped into the big bin of seeds behind the counter to get some, although Elizabeth still wasn’t sure how they could be used. Ariel only took one, but Elizabeth decided to be over-prepared and took a handful. The moment the seeds touched the earth — seeming to wriggle like living things from their hands to do so — they sprouted and grew, putting out leaves and flowers. Elizabeth had to stuff the ones she’d grabbed for extra into her one inner pocket to keep them from diving for the earth.
June 16, 2014 — 5:50 PM
amy shoultz, phd says:
maure…you weren’t kidding – both of your passages are “rich on description.” I like the lush picture you’ve drawn and the unpredictable imagery especially the bears for guards and the way all of your botanical imagery contrasts with everything i understand about trains. made me immediately think of the clash between industrialization/machine and pre-civilization/nature…you do an excellent job of evoking wonder & mystery.
my only complaint is grammatical (and it may very well be a personal hang-up) but i find your use of 3 semicolons (which i’m usually a fan of!) to be slightly jarring. they sort of interrupt the lyrical flow of your description. perhaps, that’s your point – probably need context to know for show. but, well done!
June 16, 2014 — 7:52 PM
London says:
Andy, that’s compelling. You give just enough information to make it feel properly researched—and intriguing—then hit us with the simple, telling details: pee bag, smells of urine. This makes me want to read more.
June 16, 2014 — 6:32 PM
David Blackstone (@DavidWriting) says:
From http://www.agincourtdb.com/2009/07/sf-drabble-31-best-foot-forward.html …
Roscoe Haverson is a shambles of a man. He is a degenerate gambler. He is a sleeper on lawns, and a leerer at schoolgirls. His provenance is suspect as is his hygiene. The ground at his feet is populated by American Spirit butts and shards from forty ounce bottles and urine. His former wife describes him as, and I quote, “That no account bastard.”
June 16, 2014 — 6:52 PM
kira a. gold says:
I see you have met my first husband. Didn’t realize he was going by an alias. Good to talk to you again.
June 16, 2014 — 8:17 PM
colinjkeats says:
And he is, for sure! Nice.
June 16, 2014 — 8:38 PM
Monica Postma says:
I love this. I love how you’re describing how he is, not what he looks like. My only complaint, however, is that you use the word ‘is’ a lot. even though it seems intentional because its repeated, it just grinds my nerves. Also, you say ‘former wife’ though ‘ex-wife’ (to me) seems more expedient.
June 16, 2014 — 8:46 PM
David Blackstone (@DavidWriting) says:
You’re correct that the repetition is intentional, but you’re probably right about ‘ex-wife’. It’s from a drabble so I probably kept it for the wordcount 😉
June 16, 2014 — 11:09 PM
Jane Bryony Rawson says:
Good stuff! I second Monica: I like that you’ve left his looks to our imagination and told us instead how he is. A sleeper on lawns and a leerer at schoolgirls is a great, great summary.
June 16, 2014 — 10:26 PM
David Blackstone (@DavidWriting) says:
Thanks! Yeah, I don’t really believe in describing the physical characteristics of characters unless those characteristics matter for their arc or for the story. It’s probably a result of the fact that I write flashfiction almost exclusively.
June 16, 2014 — 11:10 PM
Sare says:
Matthew woke up and he was not in his room. He was lying on a shaggy rug instead of splintered floorboards, and instead of familiar science fiction posters, the ceiling was covered with constellations of glow-in-the-dark stars. Some of them had fallen off, leaving blank spaces on the vast expanse.
There was a window, with plastic blinds half-shut to let in the warm glow of the sodium street light.
Matthew’s room did not have a window. His room had been in the basement, and there had been endless shelves circling the walls, filled with books and knickknacks and junk. This room was clean and uncluttered, furnished with pristine white furniture and small objects that glittered in the scant light.
June 16, 2014 — 8:08 PM
Mike W. says:
I like this…it gives me a good idea of what the room looks like (and the character’s disorientation). The only thing I can see that could be changed would be the word “furnished” in the last line…saying “furnished with pristine white furniture” seems a little repetitive to me; maybe “filled with…furniture” would work better?
June 16, 2014 — 9:36 PM
Sare says:
Oops, that does sound a bit redundant. Thanks for catching that!
June 17, 2014 — 2:28 AM
kira a. gold says:
Nice. You tell us quite a bit about who he is by describing his room. I’d get rid of the “there”s. “A window had plastic blinds” and “in the basement, with endless shelves circling”.
June 16, 2014 — 10:50 PM
gekkegina says:
Okay, so I’m writing a story from two perspectives, and I’m trying to give each side of the story another kind of feel to it, so I’d really like to get critique on both parts, if you would be oh so kind:
She couldn’t see through the thick layer of white as it kissed her irises, forcing out the trailblazing, salty drops. Her entire surroundings were painted by the white remnants of her home, and she felt frigid and shivered even though it was summer. Indie dropped down, running her hands through the imaginary snow and she thought she could feel it burning her palms, but she held onto it anyway with shaking hands, as she hummed ‘somewhere over the rainbow’ with a croaking voice that even she could barely hear and couldn’t recognise as her own.
They sent this extremely unthreatening cube-shaped sucker, brimming up to his throat with negative phrases, he proudly wears the frown pinned to his filled face, as if it’s an Olympic medal. Johnny, convinced that the man standing before him was seperated by miles from anything near a threat, has said every negative thing he could think of to this guy. These comments only made the frown fish deeper, and Johnny can’t help but wonder whether it’s fishing for gold, and how utterly stupid and naive that would be.
June 16, 2014 — 8:16 PM
Mike W. says:
This is pretty good description overall. The first paragraph really gives us an idea what Indie is feeling. The only thing I’m not sure of is the word “trailblazing” to describe her tears…I think I know what you mean, but it sounds a little off to my ear; maybe just using “salty” would be enough?
As for the second paragraph, it definitely reads differently, but it’s still pretty good. You could maybe say “proudly wearing the frown…” instead of “he proudly wears the frown…” just so it matches up with the earlier participle (brimming). I’m also not sure about “These comments only made the frown *fish* deeper”…is “fish” supposed to be a verb there? If so, I can’t really figure out what you mean…maybe you could change that word to make it a little clearer?
June 16, 2014 — 9:46 PM
gekkegina says:
Thanks for the advice!! I actually added “trailblazing” at the last moment, because the word was stuck in my head for some reason, and i was trying way too hard to fit it into my story. English is not my first language, and though I get the best grades in my class, i still make stupid mistakes, what i was trying to say with “fishing” is basically that the corners of this guy’s mouth only go farther down.
June 16, 2014 — 10:04 PM
Mike W. says:
Ah, I think I see what you mean…like the corners of his mouth are going down farther because he’s more upset? In that case, maybe you could try something like “These comments only made the frown deepen, and Johnny can’t help but wonder whether it’s digging for gold…”. “Digging for gold” still isn’t the best metaphor for frowning, but I can’t really think of anything else 🙂 Maybe you don’t need a metaphor in the last line.
June 16, 2014 — 10:17 PM
colinjkeats says:
Orion peeked around the steel stanchion at the massive iron ship. Green hemp ropes as wide as his legs lashed the huge grey and red vessel to the dock; dozens of them arrayed like circus tent tie-downs. The large craft did not appear to budge, even as the dock itself swayed in the tide. The gangplank was empty. Nothing moved on the ship. The waves lapped against the bulkhead in a tinkling rhythmic pattern that only served to make Orion’s eyelids droop and numb his senses. The hours dragged. He had shifted his position at least a hundred times. His legs tingled with pain, and his left knee was shooting sparks up into his thigh as he knelt on it. When he closed his eyes he saw starbursts; he was beat. He had been up since six bells, and on this operation since eight this morning.
June 16, 2014 — 8:37 PM
Anna Lewis says:
I like this one and was right there in it…although I’m biased since I’m writing nautical stuff in my hist-fic right now. You have a string of sentences that begin with “the”, so maybe consider shortening it to simply, “Hours dragged.” Nice imagery; wish I could find something more constructive to pick apart about it!
June 16, 2014 — 9:13 PM
Jane Bryony Rawson says:
I like it. It hurts.
June 16, 2014 — 10:24 PM
Monica Postma says:
EXPLANATION: This is the apocalypse. I’m still working out the kinks, but basically some people were kidnapped and everyone else pretty much just simply died. My main character saw the aftermath of this while walking through town to get from her house to her older brothers apartment. (Julian is her older brother; Jessica is his fiancé).
But that’s what the whole cars thing is about.
There was a picture frame on the end table by the couch, Julian and Jessica smiling and laughing, alive and happy. There were dirty dishes stacked by the sink in the kitchenette. Like the empty cars, the evidence of them was there, like they just left and were going to come back in a few minutes. But they weren’t. The dishes just made their absence more pronounced. The apartment had a single bed and bath. I passed the bathroom and paused outside the bedroom, my hand poised over the knob. I wasn’t sure which would be worse—an empty bedroom like the empty cars, or if they were in there, dead. But I had to know.
June 16, 2014 — 8:48 PM
Jana Denardo says:
I liked the contrast between the picture where they’re alive with the overall emptiness of the narrator’s world. One thing, the first two sentences are passive to be verbs. See if you can find a more active way to describe it.
June 16, 2014 — 9:23 PM
Jana Denardo says:
For context: It’s SF. The Toy is a young man named Kaleo. The people who bought him for Aneurin as a birthday gift think he’s a professional concubine but in truth he is a sex slave kidnapped from a slum.
The Toy sank to his knees in front of Aneurin, so he must have been shown a holo of whom he was being given to. He canted his face up to Aneurin. Eyes, an inhuman color of sapphire, glared up at him. The Toymakers might have been able to dress him up, but they hadn’t ground every bit of hate and defiance from those slit-pupiled eyes. So, he was half Gariesan. Of course, leave it to Pherick to remember Aneurin’s professional – and sexual, if he was honest about it – interest in hybrids. Aneurin’s gaze slipped from those fierce eyes, moving down over the young man’s fine features to the delicate leather collar around his neck. From it dangled a charm bearing Aneurin’s house symbol. That was just too much, probably part of Masozi’s bells and whistles.
June 16, 2014 — 9:11 PM
pathaydenjones says:
Overall, evocative of several relationships (personal & professional) around the characters, and you chose to communicate more of the psychology of the character than physical. I’m ready to discover Aneurin’s weird fetishes at this point! I did get a bit confused at first due to the clause “so he must” – that splits the sinking to knees and rising of eyes and I’d look for a way to make that more fluid, and the use of pronoun ‘he’ in two consecutive clauses. The other parenthetical you have set off by dashes I think is also breaking up flow, perhaps drop the ‘if being honest’ part unless it’s important somehow (like he has to hide the sexual part). The charm I think needs some more support – why is it over the top? Maybe make clear the collar is all he’s wearing?
June 16, 2014 — 10:39 PM
Jana Denardo says:
Thank you very much. I agree. I need to get the other parenthetical out of there and I’ll look at ‘so he must.’ In context it would be clear why the collar is a big deal.
June 16, 2014 — 10:59 PM
Jodi says:
Woohoo, let’s do this:
…
I forced my face blank, indifferent, and drew a slow breath through my nose because my jaw refused to completely unclench. Picked the tiny sleep crystals from the corners of my stinging eyes and stuffed my fingers through my hair. Snarled from the little sleep I got the night before, it hung down past my shoulders and fell in my eyes. Only my beard rivaled it in thickness and unruliness, stretching to rest atop the aforementioned paunchy stomach. I stood, adjusting my thin shirt down to cover the underside of my belly. Hiked loose cotton pants back to my hips.
…
June 16, 2014 — 9:50 PM
fadedglories says:
Sounds like me in the morning…. Anyways I think there are a few little glitches here.
“Snarled from the little sleep I got the night before, it hung down past my shoulders and fell in my eyes”.
You had just been talking about your eyes so perhaps this bit should start with the hair hanging in the eyes before it goes down past your shoulders. Can I suggest that ‘disturbed’ might suggest snarly hair more than ‘”little” ?
I also think if you’re hiking up your pants they are loose without the need to say it.
I like it and I’d read on to find out why you’re in such a messy state.
June 17, 2014 — 9:47 AM
pathaydenjones says:
No context, because it’s the opening. I’ve got my flame-proofs on…
The room flickered in and out of shadow as if lit by a fire, but the light was cold. It shone from the flat screen of an off-white, egg-shaped object and splashed across the face of a girl. Ashima had seen the Chill pass nine times and mourned at double that number of burials. Slim, dark, her hair in a single long braid, she wore a knotted leather thong around the neck as her only adornment. Voices she barely understood began to speak from a regular series of holes below the screen. She dipped a pen in an open pot of ink and scratched notes on paper pounded from hemp.
June 16, 2014 — 10:17 PM
Jana Denardo says:
A very interesting snippet. I’m not entirely sure what’s going on but I’d like to know more. this bit confused me ‘had seen the Chill pass nine times’ I had to read it a few times. Since it followed the screen, I thought it was a movie/tv show but then thought maybe it’s an event. I do like the description of her.
June 17, 2014 — 12:27 AM
pathaydenjones says:
Hi Jana, yes I should make clear, the Chill is a weather event! I will have to fix that. Thank you for taking the time to comment, reviews are wonderful things 🙂
June 17, 2014 — 10:19 AM
Jana Denardo says:
Yes reviews are great. I did figure it was a weather event.
June 17, 2014 — 11:06 AM
M T McGuire says:
I loved this. Eerie and yet I am immediately interested in Ashima and want to know more about her.
June 17, 2014 — 5:24 AM
pathaydenjones says:
Hi MT thank you for your review, that was the first thing I saw on my phone this AM :-). I would like you to know more about Ashima as well…this is the opening of a longish novel, I’m now editing after first beta.Should be done this Fall.
June 17, 2014 — 10:22 AM
Anne says:
This is great. That chill gave me a chill even though I didn’t understand it. Ashima is intriguing, and I think that happens because you kept her so simply defined.
June 18, 2014 — 10:35 AM
pathaydenjones says:
Wow, thanks, nice to hear that Anne,
June 18, 2014 — 10:54 AM
Jane Bryony Rawson says:
Givoanni Santi was there that Thursday when I signed in for night shift. He looked the way they all looked, skin falling into his face as though a sinkhole had opened up in his brain. Hands, arms stained purple-red over the yellow-white sheets. I asked one of the others how he was and she told me he was just like he looked: nearly dead. His chart told the same story. We wouldn’t have time to get attached.
We eased their suffering, then we wheeled them out and wheeled the next lot in. I had no reason to think Giovanni Santi would be any different.
June 16, 2014 — 10:22 PM
pathaydenjones says:
The way you convey the collapse of the face is evocative for sure. The paragraph gets a lot of info in — certainly sets me up for a horrible plague which affects everyone the same and has little hope of survival, so context is set well. I wonder about the yellow-white sheets, that makes that sentence a bit hard to parse. More info – yellowness of the sheets? Things don’t get washed so well, dystopian? You might revisit “how he was and she told me he was” – ‘how he was’ works, but the repetition of short words is to me a bit hard to parse (I read aloud and got tripped up), I’d look for another way to approach like ‘asked for his condition’ perhaps.
June 16, 2014 — 11:11 PM
Mari says:
She remembers the feel of the horsehair brush against her skin. It flies along her skin like a feather – its path cool as the liquid sets and dries in the breeze. The artist’s face is a blew lost to time and age, but she remembers the small pot of sumi ink resting on the stool next to her. She cranes her head around to watch but it’s too far up her back. Someone hands her a small mirror which she holds up to see her back reflected in the full-length mirror behind her. The artist’s hands are worn and gnarled like an old tree; a stark contrast to the smooth planes of her skin. She remembers the vivid bold black lines forming the formidable shape of a creature. Then crimson and chalk white bring it to life. She remembers her mother leaning over her to inspect the work and as she moves she releases the scent of jasmine blossoms and soap. Her mother nods approval with a finality that speaks volumes in the silence. She stares at her reflection and the beautiful creature that seems to stare back at her – with its blood red fur and eyes like burning stars. She remembers this now – a memory that had crawled its way up through the eons and dark shrouds in her mind – as she stares straight at the flaming beast before her with eyes like burning stars, and welcomes it with the familiarity of an old friend.
June 17, 2014 — 1:42 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
Individually there are some beautiful descriptions going on here; you’re making great use of the senses (the feel of the horsehair, the colours of crimson and chalk white, the smell of jasmine and soap) and it’s very atmospheric. My problem with it, however, is that I’m finding it difficult to follow as a whole.
I had to read it through about three times before I eventually worked out that she’s actually having some sort of tattoo of a creature painted on her back. Of course that might just be because I’m a bit slow on the uptake – once I’d worked that out, it all suddenly became obvious and I wondered how I’d ever missed it before. If no-one else points this out, consider me a doofus ( I know I will. 😉 ) If others say the same thing, however… well, I don’t think you want to risk your readers needing to re-read a paragraph more than once just to work out what’s going on. On the other hand, i also accept that this is just a paragraph taken out of context; if the text that comes before it sets the scene my comments about not knowing what’s happening are also redundant.
Things I would point out regardless of the above, however, are: The word ‘skin’ is repeated in the first two sentences. It might be best to lose one of them – merge the two sentences into one perhaps; something like ‘She remembers the feel of the horsehair brush against her skin like a feather, its path cool as the liquid sets and dries in the breeze.’ I’m not sure what ‘the artist’s face is a blew lost to time and age’ means – did you mean to write that or is it just a typo? Also there’s ‘She cranes her head around to watch but it’s too far up her back.’ Her HEAD’s too far up her back?
But other than that, I like how you’ve used descriptions here. You certainly know how to use metaphor and imagery. 🙂
June 17, 2014 — 8:11 AM
Mari says:
Thank you so much for your comments and feedback! It is much appreciated 🙂 I will definitely incorporate your suggestions into a re-write. I find it really helpful to hear others’ experiences of my writing – it always makes more sense in my head, but sometimes gets lost in translation. 😉 I haven’t written much in a while so I appreciated the opportunity to practice description and use of imagery – I’m glad you liked it.
June 17, 2014 — 12:49 PM
Jana Denardo says:
I absolutely loved the images in this. It’s such a lovely description of getting a tattoo (and I’m assuming one of great importance) however, I’m confused by this line. The artist’s face is a blew lost to time and age I’m not sure ‘blew’ is the word you’re looking for here.
June 17, 2014 — 2:20 PM
Mari says:
Thank you so much for your kind words! And yes, that word is incorrect; it’s supposed to read: “The artist’s face is a blur, lost to time and age.” That’s what happens when I type late at night. 😉 Thanks for your thoughts.
June 17, 2014 — 8:54 PM
D C Grant - WriterDawn says:
South Africa had been a culture shock. He’d hardly given the country any thought when he was living in the States but being here was a sharp lesson in how ignorant he had been. What struck him most was the contrasts: the luxury alongside the squalor, the glass-sided mansions alongside the corrugated iron shacks, the soaring high-rises alongside the roadside stalls, the children in designer clothing alongside the children in rags. It both fascinated and disgusted him.
June 17, 2014 — 5:33 AM
fadedglories says:
I think this lacks a personal touch.
What makes him notice the children? Does he have a child of his own and therefore be more liable to notice the condition of local children?
Could he be approached by a beggar who had obvious physical ill-health or was noticeably dirty and would he see that beggar sympathetically or with revulsion?
If you re-jig it using your hero’s thoughts and reactions rather than saying he was disgusted I think it will be more realistic and thus more interesting for the reader.
Does this help?
June 17, 2014 — 10:09 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
Oh yay, ’cause I suck at descriptions! If ever I needed a ‘thing’ to be critiqued on, it’ll be that. 😉 This one’s from my current w-i-p:
‘For a moment or two there’s just silence. Then a sound like a long sigh comes from behind the chair before it turns around to reveal a bald-headed man in a gray suit. He has the lean, well-cared-for body of a man in his early fifties – but the face of someone life has beaten on. There are dark hollows underneath his washed-out blue eyes, and his lips are a small, thin line across the bottom of his face; they don’t look like they ever get a chance to smile. His gaze wanders across the three of us with no interest or energy as he nods towards the chairs in front of him.’
I already know this one’s a bit ‘meh.’ I just haven’t worked out why yet. Any suggestions gratefully received. 🙂
June 17, 2014 — 7:29 AM
fadedglories says:
Ok.
I don’t think lean and well-cared-for bodies are the norm for the 50+ age group, so you could tinker with that perhaps?
Are his eyes washed out ? From tears? Or are they only pale and watery maybe?
I like the lips that aren’t accustomed to smiling. But from your description I wouldn’t get that he’s had a hard life.
You could put in something about masses of wrinkles from years of frowning, alternatively a lack of facial lines which would suggest a man who’s been permanently disengaged from reality.
Does this help at all?
June 17, 2014 — 9:59 AM
fadedglories says:
Ok.
I don’t think lean and well-cared-for bodies are the norm for the 50+ age group, so you could tinker with that perhaps?
Are his eyes washed out ? From tears? Or are they only pale and watery maybe?
I like the lips that aren’t accustomed to smiling. But from your description I wouldn’t get that he’s had a hard life.
You could put in something about masses of wrinkles from years of frowning, alternatively a lack of facial lines which would suggest a man who’s been permanently disengaged from reality.
Does this help at all?
June 17, 2014 — 10:01 AM
Wendy Christopher says:
Thank you, this has helped enormously. You’ve picked up on the very things that weren’t working for me too, so I’m glad to get the confirmation that the niggles were real.
You’re right; I need to separate the ideas that he’s fiftyish AND has a body that looks as if it’s been well looked after. They’re both true, but one ISN’T a result of the other. And what you asked about the ‘washed-out’ eyes told me instantly that the term isn’t conveying what I meant it to. I need instead to find a phrase that says they’re kind of lacking in colour – almost like their colour’s faded over time. I’m liking your suggestion of a lack of facial lines indicating being permanently disengaged from reality – that’s closer to the kind of man he is. The ‘hardness’ of his life is more of a huge emotional burden of guilt he’s carried around for years than any kind of physical hardship.
Many thanks for the feedback – this has given me lots to think about!
June 17, 2014 — 11:39 AM
fadedglories says:
Da Nada…..glad to have helped.
June 17, 2014 — 1:34 PM
St.Louis says:
Thanks for sharing Wendy!
I actually found the “washed out eyes” comment to work perfectly well, except that it is contradicted by being followed by “blue”. Over all, I think you have a good start, better than ‘meh’. 🙂 My overall suggestion would be to watch for streamlined consistency. Sometimes you repeat a description where it isn’t needed, ie “small, thin lips”, and sometimes you contradict, ie “well-cared-for body” vs ‘beaten on face.
I do get a feeling for this character, and have a working image, of both body and personality, in my mind. The only spot where I felt confusion was the second sentence, “Then a sound like a long sigh comes from behind the chair…” Is the man actually sighing, or is there a weird creature back there, or is it a noisy chair? Is it actually a sigh, or ‘like’ a sigh?
June 17, 2014 — 1:40 PM
Wendy Christopher says:
Oh my god, yes – now you say it I see the thing with the sigh from behind the chair! It IS supposed to be him sighing, but now I look at it again – jeez, he could even be farting back there. I need to clear that up. The guy’s got 99 problems, but flatulence aint one of them!
This passage is a kind of at draft one-and-a-half, i.e. the stage where I know in my head what I want to convey, but I still need to work at converting it into sentences that make sense 🙂 He’s a very wealthy, well-connected man – hence the healthy-looking body – but has a huge burden of guilt to deal with that’s made him a tortured soul with a very bitter and cynical outlook on life. He wants to put right what he helped to make so wrong – but unfortunately a large part of that involves interacting with an underclass of society that he, as a privileged and ‘upstanding citizen,’ looks down upon. Maybe I’m being a bit ambitious, trying to fit all of that undercurrent into one paragraph!
Many thanks for the feedback though – I shall add this to my notes and Think Some More.
June 17, 2014 — 5:43 PM
Kaleb Russell says:
This is eperfect because description is one of my biggest problems:
I marched to the door and with brute force I kicked the door off its hinges. At first it was pitch black inside, then the lights turned on. The interior looked as most would expect for a mansion. Several finely hand crafted wooden chairs sat neatly under a long hard wood table in the next room. In the house there were stained glass windows, eggshell white paint on the walls, a long rectangular hand woven rug in the center of the floor, and to top it all off was the colossal glass chandelier at the center of the ceiling. Up ahead was a long spiral staircase that could have been about 50 steps or so.
June 17, 2014 — 8:21 AM
fadedglories says:
I think you’re getting there, but maybe your hero could move around as he observes.
Is he there to rob, or to find somebody? His purpose will determine what he notices.
If he’d kicked the door open he probably made some noise, so perhaps the first thing he’d do is listen; you could then describe the sounds, or lack of them instead of listing the furniture.
I hope this helps
June 17, 2014 — 9:36 AM
St.Louis says:
Great start Kaleb!
I actually think you need to come at this from a different perspective entirely. You start by saying, “The interior looked as most would expect for a mansion.” (On a side note, I would change ‘most’ to ‘you’, or ‘anyone’ to draw the reader in more, make it sound like it is exactly what the reader thinks, and it fits into the cliche idea of a mansion, rather than accounting for the rarity.) If that is true, than why are we hearing about the boring, average stuff? Give us a reason why we need to hear about this foyer, tell us about finite details that we wouldn’t already expect.
June 17, 2014 — 1:49 PM
fadedglories says:
…..With his head low Alan could only see the floor, the wooden planks were inset with pottery tiles. The nearest tile had a fierce standing lion, the next was like the lion but had dark spots. He raised his head a fraction to see a white bird, probably a pelican further on. Then a voice called out ‘Her Majesty’. Alan froze as he saw a dress coming his way. Her hem swished over the floor. A blur of white, sparkling things resolved into a floral pattern of pearls and silver, as it stopped, right in front of him.
June 17, 2014 — 9:30 AM
Alecia says:
I think you have captured the activity well in this scene, but I think the description could be crisper. For example: “the wooden planks were inset with pottery tiles” is vague, but could enhance the grandeur of the hall to match her majesty’s dress – “the dark polished wood was inlaid with ceramic tiles”, or show contrast between her majesty and her current surroundings – “the dusky wooden planks were chipped where the terra cotta tiles were inset”.
June 18, 2014 — 10:28 AM
fadedglories says:
Thanks for your comments.
I ham-strung myself by sticking as close as I could to the 100 word limit. The description will be more expansive when it makes it to the appropriate chapter.
June 18, 2014 — 11:29 AM
sodmikail says:
Thanks for reading and critiquing!
June 17, 2014 — 11:20 AM
Alecia says:
From a MG WIP:
On my third birthday, she told me a tale of a magical forest. Paths of glowing stones and singing pebbles wound through the trees. It was filled with ever blooming flowers and birds as tiny as your toes. You never knew what you would find, or who you would meet when wandering the trails.
As I slept that night, I dreamt of the forest. I walked on the path of stones. It was dark, but the soft grey glow from the stones lit my way. The stones felt warm on my bare feet; the cool grass and moss reaching up to tickle me as I walked. On the edges of the path, the pebbles were not so bright and not so warm. I knelt down to look at them closer and a bright red stone caught my eye.
Thanks in advance for any feedback!
June 17, 2014 — 1:23 PM
St.Louis says:
Alecia, thanks for sharing!
I feel like, with your snippet, I need more context. I’m guessing, since it is MG, that this starts as a flashback, a memory, but I’m not sure. It doesn’t sound like what someone would remember from their three-year-old self.
Perhaps, in the preceding sentence/paragraph there is a great context grounding who ‘she’ is in the first sentence. If not, I would change it to something that comes from the protagonist more directly, using I, for example, “I remember a tale of…”. I think your second paragraph works, or would work perfectly, if you worked on the voice in the first, and tell it from the perspective of a magical memory, with the vagueness of a three-year-old’s description. I also feel like we could hear from the story-teller too, maybe hear her voice in the memory.
I am also left wondering why a three-year-old would remember the details of a single story, in perhaps a sea of stories told over a life time?
Hope this helps!
June 17, 2014 — 2:13 PM
Alecia says:
Thanks for the comments. This is the snippet where the protag is talking about her birthdays from right before the section posted above:
“On my third birthday, my mother told me a bedtime story like she always did, but this one was different. It was the first of the dreaming tales. The tales she would tell me every birthday. It is hard for me to remember the exact words of her stories; they were melodies drifting off her tongue, weighing down my eyelids and calling out the slumber.”
So even though she only vaguely remembers the story her mother told, she does vividly remember the dreams, and these are, in fact, keys to the rest of the story.
I like the idea of adding the mother’s/story-teller’s voice in the memory. Thank you!
June 17, 2014 — 3:28 PM
St.Louis says:
Middle-grade, First two paragraphs…
Thanks!
Scáth Dorcha stood in the shadow of the trees. The full moon was directly over-head – at its strongest point, and cascaded bright blue waves of power over him. He stepped forward, and looked curiously about. Around him was a small circle of oak trees; a place of power, a magic ring. A creek chimed by just outside the circle, with more trees bordering it, filling in the grove outside the circle. Thick, green grass poked up between his gangly toes.
The creek nourished the bright green blades, keeping it soft and bright, making Scáth’s olive colored skin look more sickly brown then green. He didn’t mind this, and turned his head, looking back over his boney shoulder. The portal he passed through was still open, a shimmery iridescence moving like water in the air. It circled around him, around the entire ring, fading away alongside the oak trees. Inside it, the two worlds existed together, crossed over into one place of dual existence. On the other side the two worlds separated, opening into two different worlds – only one of which was designed for humans. There were few places of power like this left, where the two worlds existed as one. However, Scáth knew none of this.
June 17, 2014 — 2:26 PM
Jana Denardo says:
I liked the description of the portal and the glen. Olive-coloring should probably be hyphenated. While there is nothing wrong with gangly toes, it’s just not usually how I think of them. Still, I liked it and would like to see more.
June 17, 2014 — 2:30 PM
Alecia says:
I think you did a great job describing the grove and circle of trees. Brings a very definite image to mind.
From the small details about Scath, I am assuming he is not human. (The way you describe him not minding looking brown instead of green, when olive complected does not really mean green in humans.)
I did get a little lost when you are describing the actual portal. The way Scath looks back over his shoulder made me think the portal was behind him, but the next line (It circled around him…) makes me think the entire oak circle is the portal. Those couple of sentences could be tweeked a little for clarity, but other than that I think it is good.
On a side note, since you mention the full moon and it seems like it might be connected to the portal/magic ring, don’t forget to keep track of your timelines and moon phases to keep your story in sync.
June 17, 2014 — 11:06 PM
St.Louis says:
Thanks for the response Jana and Alecia! Great thoughts.
June 18, 2014 — 2:24 PM
Dave says:
For a bar that markets itself as a dive, its bathroom is clean.
Very clean.
Unnervingly clean.
Intimidatingly, insultingly, and demoralizingly clean.
The sort of clean that lets Adam know he is unwelcome. That he is an intruder. An invader. An uninvited and uncouth missionary who, despite all his fervent claims of bringing urinary and tertiary enlightenment to the porcelain masses, still manages to wear a very specific sort of look on his face that suggests he is perpetually moments away from pissing in an ancient, revered fountain that he has somehow stupidly mistaken for a toilet.
June 17, 2014 — 2:29 PM
pathaydenjones says:
Dave, I like the implied weirdness and staccato delivery offset by a more engaging paragraph, and the twist of someone at odds with [very] local culture. It’s funny, but you lose some punch with that last line…it is very long and has many qualifiers (manages, sort of, suggests, perpetually etc), I think you’d have more impact of the humor of the “pissing…toilet” line. Definitely got me wondering what kind of people are getting that worked up about porcelain.
June 17, 2014 — 10:28 PM
St.Louis says:
Love it! A hilarious idea; that a bathroom would be too clean.
I am very curious about the preceding paragraphs, and the character. I do agree with pathaydenjones, however. The last line is a bit of a whopper, and has to be reread to make meaning. Personally, I get lost in the first half, the use of tertiary enlightenment (please don’t explain this 😛 ), and would suggest breaking the sentence into two. I love the final idea of mistaking a fountain for a toilet.
June 18, 2014 — 2:33 PM
dwsnovak says:
Thank you both very much for the constructive feedback!
June 18, 2014 — 8:50 PM
Michelle says:
Joe Young was not at his desk. Instead, he sat on a sofa to the left, his feet up on a coffee table. He was reading a thick document and making notes in the margin. Lindsay barely recognized him from their years in high school together. Where he had been rather thin and scrawny all through high school, he had put on maybe 20 to 30 pounds, mostly around his mid-section. His once full head of hair was now thinning, the hairline receding. He was wearing what Lindsay judged to be expensive, well-made slacks, a long-sleeved button down Oxford cloth shirt, open at the collar, and very shiny, tasseled loafers. His skin was sallow and he had an altogether ‘soft’ look about him, like a man who spent most of his time indoors, making money and spending it.
June 17, 2014 — 10:00 PM
Barb says:
I got a good image of Joe from your description. I like the sallow skin and soft look but not sure if you need the marks around the word soft. I could see him sitting there in the scene, though, plain as day.
June 17, 2014 — 10:27 PM
Michelle Hunt says:
Thanks, Barb. You’re right — I don’t need the marks around the word soft. Makes it much better to remove. Thanks so much for your kinds word. This is my first work of creative writing in 30 years so any encouragement is welcome! Now I’d better find a submission that hasn’t been critiqued and encourage someone else!
June 18, 2014 — 5:44 AM
Anne says:
OK, late to the party, but here goes. Thanks for the feedback.
In casinos there were no dawns, no noontime breaks, no wait for the propriety assigned five o’clock drink, and awareness of the outside world remained absent. Once inside, there weren’t days of the week, or months and seasons, no reason to leave, no start and middle, no end in sight. In many ways that suited him, except times like this when the confines burned right through his skin with acidic fury, reminding him of the war. That timeless, wretched war where nothing existed outside the now, the visible, and the next earth shattering explosion. On days like this, he loathed the desert settings with their pathetically flimsy makeshift worlds, sprawling man made oasis built for purpose and gain, where silk lined pockets ran as deep as trenches, chips lay stacked like corpses in a mass grave, and money flowed as unashamedly as human blood.
June 18, 2014 — 12:10 AM
St.Louis says:
Hello Anne, thanks for sharing!
I definitely get a feel of the timelessness of being in the casino; an escape from the real world, destroyed by war outside. I don’t think you need the ‘once inside’ on the second sentence. As a reader, I already felt like inside, and reading that makes me do a double take, like I was supposed to be outside. That sentence, as a whole, reads a bit choppy. Maybe cut out the use of ‘and’?
I get that your character comes to the casino to escape the war, but is now itching to get back to it. I wasn’t sure what the desert setting was. At first, I thought it was outside, and only after rereading did I guess that maybe it is a prop inside. I also don’t see the need for the blood\death similes with the money. It doesn’t seem to fit with the characters relationship with the casino, especially if this is an escape from the war. I would think that gambling and money would be a sign of that escape.
June 18, 2014 — 2:58 PM
Alecia says:
Hmm, so I read this a bit differently than St.Louis.
I didn’t really see him in the casino as an escape from the war, but that the casino brought the memory of the war back to him. The comparisons of the casino and the military encampments both being these false settings in the middle of the desert and built based on greed, with their own set of rules that don’t necessarily match the rules of the ‘real world’.
June 18, 2014 — 3:48 PM
Anne says:
Thank you, Alecia.
June 19, 2014 — 10:48 AM
Anne says:
St.Louis, thank you for taking the time to read and advise. I will work on the “and” (because really, it is a weak point with me and needs addressing, so thanks for the push) – Like Alecia said below you (and I should have added that in) the man works at the casino (in Security) so it begins to get a bit stifling for him at times (he’s also just had a bad experience in there) By this point in the story, the reader will already know he’s a war veteran and where he works.
June 19, 2014 — 10:47 AM
Jacob Longnecker says:
I saw his green eyes for the first time as I sat on a park bench overlooking lake. He passed by unnoticed, floating with the leaves which blew across the cool lake water. The lingering taste of propane and scrambled eggs from breakfast grew stale in my throat. I looked out across the brown lake; littered with firewood twine, empty bug spray cans, and a variety of waste which created a man-made dam of trash on the shore– hospitable to no creature.
June 18, 2014 — 6:48 AM
Alecia says:
Nice job. I think your last line has the strongest imagery and really sets the scene, it might be better to move that earlier. Your second line “He passed by unnoticed, floating with the leaves which blew across the cool lake water.” seems to contradict it as the cool lake water brings to mind a much more relaxing setting than the last line exposes. It also contradicts the first line where your narrator sees him, so he did not pass by unnoticed. Maybe “He passed by oblivious to my gaze, floating with the leaves…” if you are meaning the narrator was not noticed.
June 18, 2014 — 10:05 AM
Michelle says:
In general I thought this was well-written and I could “see” a lot of it, but one thing that took me out of it was the “he passed by unnoticed” part. I guess if this is written in omniscient third person, that would work, but how could he be unnoticed if the narrator is telling us this (and therefore noticed him)?
June 20, 2014 — 11:00 AM
Daniel Cortes says:
“Easy there Balto, I come in peace,” said a young voice that could have easily belonged to a boy of ten; playful, full of curiosity and mischief. Holding out the back of its small hand for him to smell the creature stepped into the light. Meshing feline and simian characteristics, its slender body was wrapped in ink-black skin that gleamed with a slightly oily appearance like that of a snake. Thin limbs ended with a cross between hands and paws, four fingers on each hand and foot. The dexterous, nimble looking appendages were tipped with small, sharp, light-gray claws that retracted like a cat’s. A lithe tail weaved back and forth, the tip flat and shaped like the head of a spear. The head resembled a bat with its huge ears, but a short muzzle ended the comparison as did the small, stubby horns, one over each red eye. A solitary wing flapped behind the right shoulder for a moment with the sound of leather on silk before folding against its back.
June 18, 2014 — 4:07 PM
Rebecca says:
Normally I am a fan of indirect characterization; however, this is an intriguing description and delightful to read. You have good word choice without bogging down the flow of the language.
June 18, 2014 — 9:15 PM
Rebecca says:
Autumn was unfurling majestically around them. Trees shed their earth-hued confetti with each breath of wind; the sky was naked cobalt from horizon to horizon; the air was dank and savory with the death of a million leaves. A burst of late season warmth glowed against the skin.
June 18, 2014 — 9:12 PM
Katherine says:
I love the line “the sky was naked cobalt from horizon to horizon.” This, more than any other part of the paragraph, set the tone for me. I’d be careful of too much passive tense, though. You’ve got three ‘was’s (is that how you plural? We’ll just say that’s how you plural) in a very short segment. And many of these could be tightened up, like, “Autumn unfurled majestically around them” or the slightly more wordy “the death of a million leaves left the air dank and savory.”
Also, the “burst of late season warmth glowing” on the skin is a great way to bring the focus from an external atmosphere into a character. I don’t know if that’s what you planned, but it’s a smooth-as-butter segue.
June 18, 2014 — 11:32 PM
Katherine says:
The prospect of fighting off the siren’s call of heroin for the rest of my life feels like a deep chasm I can’t cross. I look out at the city instead. In London, the pinpricks of lights struggle against the night and refuse to give sovereignty to the shadows. The Great Wheel on the Thames stares out over a tumultuous river, its unblinking circle of white reflected on muddy waters. I think about returning to the musky, dark apartment knowing that I’ll have to throw out all my backup H, and feel a sudden surge of helplessness.
June 18, 2014 — 11:38 PM
Bob Schueler says:
Just then, he heard a rustling from the direction of the house, and a large purple figure crept toward him, walking hunched over so as to stay below the level of the fence. A few more steps and he could see it was a woman wearing a shiny purple bowling shirt with “Eddie” embroidered on the left breast and baggy black pants. Strange orange auburn hair, chopped short, set off pale white skin. She moved with such quickness he was surprised to see, when she arrived next to him, that she was at least in her sixties.
June 19, 2014 — 11:50 AM
emivespri says:
A very simple description of a character i call the mechanic:
It was hard to tell whether or not there was any flesh under that mechanic armour. His head was clearly there, though.
June 20, 2014 — 1:54 AM