Georgia Blade - Bare Faced Cheek

[The Bloated One]

Dear All,

I have two specific requests if you have the time to look at this piece;

i) Is it quirky and funny enough to appeal to a YA audience?

ii) Is it an easy read, sufficently paced to hold your attention to the end?

Oh, and Iam always happy to learn about punctuation and grammar!


You will need a couple of pointers before you read.

Georgia Blade is a female space pirate who, with her wrecking crew of Cluricaun, Lenny the android, and two humans, Rhia and Archie have kidnapped a Griddleback (bad guys) Prince. four battle cruisers have been sent to intercept Georgia's two small spaceships, Pandora and Prometheus on their way back to 2340 AD.

There is also a section where Georgia sees two Time Guardians following them, ("So that’s your game," she whispered to herself) but that's another story...


Bare Faced Cheek

"Boys, we have been to many places, and done many things together. When called upon, you have served without question. Today I ask you once again to follow me. I have belief in you all; I demand no less in return. There are four Griddleback battle cruisers converging on us. In less than ten minutes, the first will arrive. We have no option but to make a dash for 2340, but before we do, I have a plan. Pray we are better pilots than they are."

Archie looked at Pandora and Prometheus, and then at Georgia.

"How on earth are you going to out fox four battle cruisers in these?" his voice warbling with fear.

"Size isn't everything my human friend," she said, chewing on her cheroot and looking him up and down. " In this case, small is beautiful. We have a few tricks up our sleeve." She turned to Screwball, "a quick briefing with you and Big Joe."

They huddled together, the seriousness of the situation etched on their faces. Minutes later, they were laughing and making strange hand movements and wiggling their bottoms. Georgia patted their heads, and stubbed her cheroot out on her hand.

"Okay boys let's lock and load."

* * *​

Screwball's restraining belt was torn in two, so the Cluricaun decided to tape him to the chair, hoping he stayed put. Once secured, Big Joe saw an opportunity to cover Screwball’s head in sticky tape, but was persuaded not to.

Inside Pandora, Archie, Lenny and Rhia sat in silence watching Georgia. Taking a battered copy of Mrs. Beeton's Book of Household Management, she opened it on the console, and flicked through its pages, scribbling notes in the margins. She glanced at the clock on the screen, and then returned to the book. With an expression of triumphant smugness, she closed the book and explained to them what was about to happen. In five minutes, a large root worm-hole, wide enough for a Griddleback battlecruiser would open over Boston harbour. The next worm-hole was tomorrow at 15:00, opening over the town. Georgia gambled the four battlecruisers would not wait, but risk flying in single file down today's hole in their rush to save their Royal Prince. She explained that a root-worm hole was a rare phenomenon; a wide hole branching off, like the roots of a tree. Using the branches, Georgia was about to draw enough freighter traffic into the hole to create the largest intergalactic traffic jam possible.

She took out the silver block, placed it on the glass rod and hit the blue button on the 3D console in front of her. The universe enveloped them again. Georgia looked at the numerous ships traversing earth and tapped quickly on the keyboard, removing unwanted ships until there were seventeen freighters circling the earth. She looked carefully at the first freighter and smiled.

"So that’s your game," she whispered to herself before listing the freighters in arrival order on screen. She removed four, leaving thirteen Kartoleon hyper freighters. The nearest freighter was five minutes away, the furthest over six hours. On the screen, she scrolled through official looking document headers until she saw the one she wanted. She grinned mischievously and started typing.

Dear Kartoleon Freighter Captains,

Inter galactic ordinance number, 249/216/1773 empowers me to command you to attend a sanitising sweep immediately at the following co-ordinates. 09/352/1773-Segment B5.

Your cargoes will be checked for, and vaccinated against a plague of Angreallus Weavil Drads known to be in this segment.

The Intergalactic and Interplanetary Department for Trade and Commerce (IIDTC) apologises for this inconvenience.

Please confirm your attendance by return cipher.

Have a nice day.

Georgia relayed the encrypted message with the IIDTC’s authentication key and sat back. She watched the confirmations come in and watched the freighters joining the root worm-hole through their nearest branch, and stack up around them. Her plan was working.
Stuck in the middle of the freighters, and with no branch hole to escape down, sat the four Griddleback battlecrusiers.

"Now for the coup de grâce," said Georgia, typing again:

Dear Captain of the Kartoleon Freighter, Rumplardy,

We have been informed the worm-hole is displaying unusual behaviour, and we ask you not to exit until we can confirm your safe arrival.

Please confirm receipt by cipher.

Have a nice day.

Confirmation came back immediately. She watched the Rumplardy at the front of the queue slow down and stop. The rest of the ships including the Griddlebacks slowed and stacked up behind her. The Griddlebacks were trapped like crisps in a cardboard tube, each ship stacked one behind the other, with no room to manoeuvre.

Georgia picked Kartoleon freighters knowing their pilots were the most officious, form filling, sticklers for rules who roamed the galaxies. Armed with her piece of paper, the Captain of the Rumplardy wouldn’t leave the worm-hole until ordered to by another piece of paper; come hell or high water.

Pandora’s engines started first time and with Prometheus right behind, they moved to the opening of the worm-hole and waited. As it opened, they cloaked themselves and slowly moved inside. With Pandora and Prometheus being small, she calculated they had enough room to travel along the hole in the opposite direction to the jam. They passed Rumplardy, and then another two freighters, before coming upon the first Griddleback battlecruiser.

"Ready boys?" said Georgia into the telecom, guiding their tiny ships toward the giant cruiser’s bridge.

* * *​

Gruilish Vandergrad was fuming. Charged with the protection of Prince Solace Ruttfartor, sixth in line to the Griddleback throne, he sat impotently behind a line of Kartoleon freighters. He snarled at the Griddleback officers around him, fed up wet-nursing Solace. He thumped the console and a Kartoleon Captain’s face filled the screen.

"This is Gruilash Vandergad, Captain of the Battlecruiser Tarakan III. I politely request you move aside." It was his tenth such request, and it was met with the same look of officious piety.

"This is Captain Rogbodle of the Kartoleon hyper freighter Rumplardy, I understand your request, but Intergalactic ordinance 34/98/tr/-23-34 states—"

Gruilash turned down the volume; he had, had enough of Kartoleons quoting ordinance. Suddenly Captain Rogbodle disappeared. The Griddlebacks on the bridge all looked at the screen. Gruilash turned up the sound and an ear pierccing burst of Irish jig music rent the air. Seven step-dancing Cluricaun appeared, then turned, dropped their trousers, and thrust their warty bottoms at Gruilash, filling the screen with quivering pink moons. Gruilash looked mystified and scowled at his communications officer. Then Big Joe came on screen wearing a tri-corner hat emblazoned with the skull and crossbones, a patch over one eye, waving a hook with Lucretia sitting on his shoulder.

"This is Captain Jolly Roger," he said in an affected Kartoleon voice, heavily laced with an Irish accent. He gestured rudely at Gruilash, and blew him an enormous raspberry. On cue, Lucretia lent forward and squawked.

"Have a nice day," before the screen flickered and the pietistic face of Captain Rogbodle re-appeared. Gruilash exploded the only way an insulted Griddleback could—in an apoplectic rage splattering phlegm, steam and bile in all directions.

"Get your ship out of my way!" he screamed, shaking violently.

Unmoved, Captain Rogbodle looked disdainfully down his nose, and began reciting chapter one of the sixty volume Intergalactic code.

* * *​

Archie fell about laughing, and pointed at the console.

"They bloody well mooned the oily bastards!" he spluttered, tears rolling down his face. Rhia gawped at the screen, and blushed.

"Yeh, they crack me up sometimes with their bare faced cheek," said Georgia drolly, guiding Pandora and Prometheus down the hole and away from the jam.

----------------------​

The Bloated one...

 

[Erin99]

Well, here's my massive critique (I went for an in-depth one):


"Boys, we have been to many places, [remove this comma] and done many things together [do you need the "together"?] . When called upon, you have served without question. Today I ask you once again [I'd separate off the "once again" with two commas; it's an additional piece of info in the sentence] to follow me. I have belief in you all; I demand [expect? Have come to expect?] no less in return [this line sounds a bit too harsh. Isn't the person speaking supposed to be winning them over? Surely that's hard if you're "demanding" belief and loyalty]. There are four Griddleback battle cruisers converging on us. In less than ten minutes, the first will arrive. We have no option but to make a dash for 2340, but [repeat of "but". You could say "However," or "Yet" instead] before we do, I have a plan. Pray we are better pilots than they are."

Archie looked at Pandora and Prometheus, and then at Georgia.

"How on earth [would they still use that expression? Seems very colloquial to me...] are you going to out fox [outfox] four battle cruisers in these?" ["he said,"] his voice warbling with fear.

"Size isn't everything [comma] my human friend," she said, chewing on her cheroot and looking him up and down. "In this case, small is beautiful. We [I?] have a few tricks up our [my?] sleeve." She turned to Screwball, [full stop] "[I want?] a quick briefing with you and Big Joe."

They huddled together, the seriousness of the situation etched on their faces. Minutes later, [you could remove this comma] they were laughing and making strange hand movements and wiggling their bottoms [a lot of "ands" in this line]. Georgia patted their heads, and [to avoid another "and", you could make this a "then"] stubbed her cheroot out on her hand.

"Okay boys [comma] let's lock and load [colloquial expression again] ."

* * *

Screwball's restraining belt was torn in two, so the Cluricaun decided to tape him to the chair, hoping he stayed put. Once secured, Big Joe saw an opportunity to cover Screwball’s head in sticky tape, but [he] was persuaded not to [There's something about this line that stands out as odd. Maybe it's the suddenness of "he was persuaded not to". I mean, who persuaded him not to? How would anyone know Cluri was thinking of taping his head? You've skipped a few details here]

Inside Pandora [Is that the name of the craft? If it is, I think it needs italicising] , Archie, Lenny and Rhia sat in silence watching Georgia. Taking a battered copy of Mrs. Beeton's Book of Household Management [ditto with the book title] , she opened it on the console [the book opened on a page about consoles? It sounds as if "she opened it one the console page". I think you've a misplaced modifier here. Try "she placed it on the console and opened it"], and flicked through its pages, scribbling notes in the margins. She glanced at the clock on the screen, and then returned to the book. With an expression of triumphant smugness, she closed the book [repeat of "book"] and explained to them what was about to happen. In five minutes, a large root worm-hole [wormhole], wide enough for a Griddleback battlecruiser [earlier you called it a "battle cruiser". Also, you need a comma here. Or perhaps, to save on wordage, you could write "In five minutes a wormhole wide enough for a Griddleback battlecruiser..."] would open over Boston harbour. The next worm-hole [wormhole] was tomorrow at 15:00, opening over the town. Georgia gambled the four battlecruisers would not wait, but risk flying in single file down [through?] today's hole in their rush to save their Royal Prince. She explained that a root-worm hole [or "a root wormhole". Also, sounds as if Root Wormhole should be capitalised, as if it's an important noun, the same as "Wormhole"] was a rare phenomenon; [just a comma, or a dash] a wide hole branching off, like the roots of a tree. Using the branches, Georgia was about to draw enough freighter traffic into the hole to create the largest intergalactic traffic jam possible.

She took out the silver block, placed it on the glass rod [comma] and hit the blue button on the 3D console in front of her. The universe enveloped them again. Georgia looked at the numerous ships traversing earth and [or you could write "...traversing the Earth, then tapped..."] tapped quickly on the keyboard, removing unwanted ships until there were seventeen freighters circling the earth. She looked carefully at the first freighter and smiled.

"So that’s your game," she whispered to herself [comma] before listing the freighters in arrival order on screen [or "before listing, on screen, the arrival of the freighters] . She removed four, leaving thirteen Kartoleon hyper freighters. The nearest freighter was five minutes away, the furthest over six hours. On the screen [repeat of "screen". Perhaps "monitor"] , she scrolled through official [hyphen] looking document headers until she saw the one she wanted. She grinned mischievously and started typing.

[The message should be italicised] Dear Kartoleon Freighter Captains,

Inter galactic ordinance number, [no comma] 249/216/1773 empowers me to command you to [sounds very rhythmic when read aloud] attend a sanitising sweep immediately at the following co-ordinates. 09/352/1773-Segment B5.

Your cargoes will be checked for, and vaccinated against [comma] a plague of Angreallus Weavil Drads [comma which are] known to be in this segment.

The Intergalactic and Interplanetary Department for Trade and Commerce (IIDTC) apologises for this inconvenience.

Please confirm your attendance by return cipher.

Have a nice day. [end italics]

Georgia relayed the encrypted message with the IIDTC’s authentication key [comma. And perhaps "then" as opposed to "and"?] and sat back. She watched the confirmations come in [comma] and watched the freighters joining the root worm-hole [wormhole] through their nearest branch, and stack up around them. Her plan was working.
Stuck in the middle of the freighters, and with no branch hole to escape down, sat the four Griddleback battlecrusiers.

"Now for the coup de grâce," said Georgia, typing again:

[Italics] Dear Captain of the Kartoleon Freighter, Rumplardy,

We have been informed [that] the worm-hole [wormhole] is displaying unusual behaviour, and we ask you not to exit until we can confirm your safe arrival.

Please confirm receipt by cipher.

Have a nice day. [end italics]

Confirmation came back immediately. She watched the Rumplardy at the front of the queue slow down and stop. The rest of the ships [comma] including the Griddlebacks [comma] slowed and stacked up behind her. The Griddlebacks were trapped like crisps in a cardboard tube [or "mints in a mint packet"... mmm... mints... yum... Sorry 'bout that, it just popped into my head!], each ship stacked one behind the other, with no room to manoeuvre.

Georgia picked Kartoleon freighters [comma] knowing their pilots were the most officious, form filling, sticklers for rules who roamed the galaxies. Armed with her piece of paper, the Captain of the Rumplardy wouldn’t leave the worm-hole until ordered to by another piece of paper; [just a comma] come hell or high water [or "Armed with her piece of paper, the Captain of the Rumplardy wouldn’t leave the worm-hole come hell or high water, until ordered to by another piece of paper" Also, is "come hell or high" water a cliche? It might possibly be one...].

Pandora’s engines started first time [comma] and with Prometheus right behind, they moved to the opening of the worm-hole and waited. As it opened, they cloaked themselves and slowly moved inside. With Pandora and Prometheus being small, she calculated they had enough room to travel along the hole in the opposite direction to the jam [the hole's in the opposite direction to the jam? ] . They passed Rumplardy, and then another two freighters, before coming upon the first Griddleback battlecruiser.

"Ready boys?" said Georgia into the telecom, guiding their tiny ships toward the giant cruiser’s bridge.

* * *

Gruilish Vandergrad was fuming [this is telling, as you already know]. Charged with the protection of Prince Solace Ruttfartor, sixth in line to the Griddleback throne, he sat impotently behind a line of Kartoleon freighters. He snarled at the Griddleback officers around him, fed up wet-nursing Solace. He thumped the console and a Kartoleon Captain’s face filled the screen.

"This is Gruilash Vandergad, Captain of the Battlecruiser Tarakan III. I politely request you move aside." It was his tenth such request, and it was met with the same look of officious piety.

"This is Captain Rogbodle of the Kartoleon hyper freighter Rumplardy, I understand your request, but Intergalactic ordinance 34/98/tr/-23-34 states—"

Gruilash turned down the volume; he had, [no comma. Perhaps "he'd had enough"?] had enough of Kartoleons quoting ordinance. Suddenly Captain Rogbodle disappeared. The Griddlebacks on the bridge all looked at the screen. Gruilash turned up the sound and an ear pierccing [piercing] burst of Irish jig music rent the air. Seven step-dancing Cluricaun appeared, then turned, dropped their trousers, and thrust their warty bottoms at Gruilash, filling the screen with quivering pink moons. Gruilash looked mystified [comma] and scowled at his communications officer. Then Big Joe came on screen wearing a tri-corner hat emblazoned with the skull and crossbones, a patch over one eye, [sounds as if the skull and crossbones have a patch over one eye!] waving a hook with Lucretia sitting on his shoulder [misplaced modifier alert! The hook has Lucretia sitting on its shoulder? ].

"This is Captain Jolly Roger," he said in an affected Kartoleon voice, heavily laced with an Irish accent. He gestured rudely at Gruilash, and blew him an enormous raspberry. On cue, Lucretia lent forward and squawked.

"Have a nice day," [he said comma] before the screen flickered and the pietistic face of Captain Rogbodle re-appeared [reappeared]. Gruilash exploded the only way an insulted Griddleback could—in an apoplectic rage [comma] splattering phlegm, steam [steam???] and bile in all directions.

"Get your ship out of my way!" he screamed, shaking violently.

Unmoved, Captain Rogbodle looked disdainfully down his nose, and began reciting chapter one of the sixty volume Intergalactic code.

* * *

Archie fell about laughing, and pointed at the console.

"They bloody well mooned the oily bastards!" he spluttered, tears rolling down his face. Rhia gawped at the screen, and blushed.

"Yeh, they crack me up sometimes with their bare faced cheek," said Georgia drolly, guiding Pandora and Prometheus down the hole and away from the jam.

--------------------------------------------


Well, this seems another fun story. Though, if you don't mind my honesty, I prefer your other work (I can never seem to enjoy stories with a SF edge). Still, it seems a playful, engaging idea that should entertain young children. What age is it aimed at? I think this is maybe (and this is just my unknowledgable opinion!) a bit too fun for older children, so perhaps you're aiming at slightly younger kids? Then again, you've got some big words in this piece too...

This segment, "Taking a battered copy of Mrs. Beeton's Book of Household Management..." was unnervingly similar to one I have in my latest story. You've almost, word-for-word, written it the same as mine, except the title is slightly different. Spooky...

Anyway, I hope this gives you some things to think about.

 

[The Bloated One]

Leisha,

Thanks for the critique. I wasn't aware of my use of hackneyed cliches and colloquialisms so that was very useful. It gives me an opportunity to update them in a quirky sort of way.

If you could direct me toward your own writing on the site I would be interested to take a look.

This part and the other piece you kindly critiqued are from the same time travelling adventure. I only have one book inside me!

Yes, it is aimed squarely at a YA audience, so I guess 12+? Do you see it even younger? I wouldn't wish its fun nature alienating an older generation as I use several expressions, and items that would resonate with older people, e.g. characters called Izal Medicated and Ricketts Blue, the obiquitous Sinclar C5 (Sinclair 5000 in 2340 AD), and the all pervasive Macrohard Indusrties and the far smaller Peach Corp with their personal lifestyle organiser called the iBall.

I ask as I have a run of three similar chapters - one where Georgia Blade and her 'wrecking crew' start the American War of Independence by throwing tea into Boston harbour (they are, after all, space pirates and thought the ships were full of gold. Upset they threw the ships cargoes overboard) - this chapter with the spaceship queue, and the third, a ribald evening in a burlesque night club called 'The Bloated Shagganat' with an assortment of colourful flatulists and culian juggling aliens.

You have peaked my interest with your last paragraph. Do you actually use Mrs Beeton's book? If you do, I agree, very eerie! I mention it in the first piece as it is an important part of my story. I use it as a Time Travellers Almanac.

Happy to send you a draft copy of 'The Advenures of Tarquin jenkins' to read at your leisure if you felt so inclined!

Best regards,

The Bloated One...

 

[Erin99]

Actually I'd never heard of Mrs Beeton's! What I meant was that I have a sentence almost identical, though the title of the book is one I've made up myself -- something about housewives and cooking, if I recall...

As for the age range of your audience, I'd say 12+ is fine. Children younger than this might read it but not fully understand some terms (which is like Harry Potter, I suppose), but I'd still say it's fine. Then again, I have no real experience...

with an assortment of colourful flatulists

Made me laugh!

Sorry I can't point you to any of my writing, but I've never posted up work for critique here. At the moment my work is out with an editor who's book doctoring it. If you're really interested, I could post a couple of paragraphs here for you to skim through?

Back to my reading! I've just started Gemmell's Lord of the Silver Bow, and I'm really enjoying it. The level of depth and detail leave me astounded.

 

[The Bloated One]

Interesting...I was going to use Deliah Smith's cookery book. However, I assumed I would run into copyright problems as I use Mrs Beeton's book heavily. It is a very interesting read, and has a great website - Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management - www.mrsbeeton.com. It fits perfectly with time travelling.

You can just see the youngsters asking their parents what a flatulist is! Tee hee.

I wouldn't want you to compromise your work. I was intrigued to learn what your own style of writing was like.

Thanks again, and here is a little piece of cullion juggling for your delectation and edification;

Gaitan flounced on stage with Izal. He cracked jokes, insulted members of the audience and pinched Izal’s bottom roughly before introducing Tricky Dicky, and his dancing Cullions.

The lights dimed and Tricky strolled on stage and dropped his trousers. The audience erupted into coarse laughter, while poor Rhia went bright red and hid her face on Lenny’s chest.

Tricky’s performance was short, but manic,full of backhands and forehands, and accompanied by Gaitan giving a ball by ball commentary.

With the audience standing and applauding, Tricky Dicky bowed, scooped up his cullions and waddled off stage.

Tee hee.

The Blaoted One...

 

[Lenny]

I had to read this, simply because you've got an android with a name that, for some reason, rings a bell. Can't for the life of me work out where I've heard it before, though.

Anyway, I'm not one for checking spelling and grammar, and it's already been done by Leisha.

i) Is it quirky and funny enough to appeal to a YA audience?

ii) Is it an easy read, sufficently paced to hold your attention to the end?

In answer to both of your questions - Yes. Quirky, funny, and your writing style is perfect for the YA audience, in my opinion. It did hold my attention to the end, but I felt that it was maybe a bit too fast-paced, and I had to read it twice to fully get it. However, I'd say that this is more down to the fact that it's an extract from somewhere in the middle of the book, and that it's always harder to just jump into a story halfway through without having read anything before it than coming to it as you read it.

I liked the Griddlebacks, by the way. Reminded me of the Vogons in Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

There was some very good language in it, too. Quite a few phrases made me smile.

One thing I'm interested in, is how it fits together with the extract you posted a while ago - with Cavendish and Washington's teeth.

I look forward to reading more.

 

[The Bloated One]

Leisha,

Don't comprimise your work, I was just interested to see your style of writing. I will check out the book you mention

I was going to use Deliah Smith, but then I came across this great website for Mrs Beeton Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management - www.mrsbeeton.com . I am glad I did as I assume I would have copyright problems using more recent books.

If flatulists made you laugh, you might like cullions...

Gaitan flounced on stage with Izal. He cracked jokes, insulted the audience and and roughly pinched Izal’s bottom before introducing Tricky Dicky, and his dancing Cullions.

The lights dimmed and Tricky strolled to the front of the stage and dropped his trousers. The audience erupted with coarse laughter, while poor Rhia went bright red and hid her face on Lenny’s chest.

Tricky’s performance was short and full of action; back hands, forehands, the occasional smash, all accompanied by Gaitan's ball by ball commentary.

With a standing ovation, Tricky Dicky bowed to the audience, scooped up his cullions and waddled off stage.

 

[The Bloated One]

Lenny,

Glad you liked it, and thanks for answering my questions.

Do you mean Izal Medicated? IIf so, it is an English type of toilet paper in use in public lavatories and schools in the 1970's. Sadly I am showing my age!

Interesting that you said it was fast paced. I have had this comment before. I'll take another look.

If I want to sell this in the future, I am limited by the amount I can post on a public forum. Sounds pretentious, but I may as well not compromise it as I am up to 50,000 words.

I have no problem sending you by email the first six chapters. This is chapter five. If you want to see how we go from a canal in Northamptonshire to the outer reaches of the galaxies just let me know.

The Bloated One...

 

[The Bloated One]

Lenny,

Continuing on...

Vogons, created by my favourite author, Douglas Adams. You will find echoes of Adams in this piece of mine.

Griddlebacks are evil bas*!^"£'s, and I wouldn't insult a Vogon by putting them in the same room. But, I do have a lardy character called a Shagganat that is more akin to a Vogan - though they are not very bright, and don't write poetry.

The Bloated One...

 

[Erin99]

I have no problem sending you by email the first six chapters. This is chapter five. If you want to see how we go from a canal in Northamptonshire to the outer reaches of the galaxies just let me know.

Be careful with that; early chapters usually change quite dramatically, and I know I can look at some of my "just completed" work and think I'm glad no one could see it compared to my later versions. Drafts and early chapters are fine to post here for advice, but just for that -- advice. When you've gone over your novel a few times and it's near completion, then show it around and be proud. Saves embarrassment later, when you know how much your writing has improved!

Then again, you may already have a wonderful novel without the re-re-re-rewrites! ^_~

 

[The Bloated One]

Then again, you may already have a wonderful novel without the re-re-re-rewrites! ^_~ Yeh right! In my wildest dreams....

 

[Erin99]

I wouldn't want you to compromise your work. I was intrigued to learn what your own style of writing was like.

Sorry, I've looked at this page a few times, and every time I'd missed this post. Strange, huh?

Well, for your amusement I'll post a couple of different paragraphs. This won't compromise my online rights, as that only applies when you post more than one or two chapters, and believe me, my chapters are long...


Excerpt 1 (though there is a tiny bit of telling going on, but I chose it):

But as soon as his feet stepped through the boundary, his merriment ceased. How he hated this place; trudging though here was the worst part of his job. The trunks of the pine trees towered above him as they always did, the only difference being the layer of fine white powder that had settled overnight, and the sharp needles that hung on the lower branches scratched his face like they'd done yesterday. Still, he'd grown accustomed to the scratching. In fact, he was sure his skin had toughened because of it. What he hated most about this route, however, were the pine cones half-buried by the snow. In Betin they were still attached to the trees, which made the season bearable; in Tora, once they'd fallen, he could mostly avoid them because of their obviousness; but in Yanith, when they buried themselves in the snow, they were the gods' own torture. The imperceptible cones caused him sore feet, more headaches than he cared for, and an annoying tendency to stumble, which, given that this was his third trip to the woodland today, didn't help his aching back. But after being a hunter for most of his life, he knew no one cared about what he went through; the buyers who bought his meat only cared to have their goods on time, hassle-free, and fresh.​

Excpert 2:

Captivated, she stepped a few feet inside. The leaves gave off an overpowering fruity odour, which seemed the only pleasant thing about the wood. Fern covered the forest floor, swiping at her legs, and what little warmth there was had all but evaporated. The farther she walked, the colder it became, until her whole body felt like it was about to ice up. And by this time only minute beams of sunlight penetrated the canopy overhead, so she strained to see her surroundings. It was almost as if she was in a grim fairytale; instead of an auburn forest bathed in cascading golden light, it appeared knotted, old, and gloomy; the stuff of nightmares, or little boys' fantastical horror stories as they're told to eager faces around the glow of a torchlight. She felt so small under this shadow, so insignificant, like an ant surrounded by a horde of giant humans.​

I get carried away with my describing. Lol!
Well, anyway, there you go. Make of that what you will.

 

[The Bloated One]

Leisha,

Many thanks. I enjoyed the tone, imagery and pace of the different pieces. Particularly liked;

It was almost as if she was in a grim fairytale; instead of an auburn forest bathed in cascading golden light, it appeared knotted, old, and gloomy; the stuff of nightmares, or little boys' fantastical horror stories as they're told to eager faces around the glow of a torchlight.

I can relate to the torchlight!

Regards,

The Bloated One...

 

[Erin99]

Thank you! I realised I should post something of mine up, since I'm always helping everyone else and it's a bit unfair if I don't.

Oh yes, and I can relate to the tales around a torchlight! My sisters and I loved scaring each other senseless; though, since I was the youngest, I took these tales to heart! Oh, the nightmares I had! Argh...

But it was fun!

Thanks again.