Very short! Brand new and looking for some serious critiques.

[xPeregrine]

Hi everyone,

I participate in 2 writing communities, but given the nature of my work, I thought it best to find a SF+F one, so hello!

I need fresh eyes to go over my opening for content, whether it grabs the attention, flow, pacing and style.

I'm not looking for smaller grammatical issues.

Thanks so much in advance!

They didn't even give Jill the chance to run. Not a shout, not a struggle, not a chance to defend herself. All she could manage was a surprised squeak before black-clad arms dragged her writhing body into a van. Her abductors, about eight hours too early for the secrecy of night, didn't seem to mind the gaping one o'clock lunchers and astonished window-shoppers. But then again, that's the sort of benediction a badge imparts.

Two cameras watched from above, constant voyeurs. The place didn't smell manly and sweaty like she thought a prison would. It was monomers and pine, like a freshly cleaned refrigerator. Worn from a fruitless fracas with the milk-jug white walls of her cell, Jill settled limply into the molded chair bolted to the floor. Her hazy reflections on the polished plastic walls were so close they could have reached out and grabbed her. Despite a blast of cold from a vent above, her cheeks burned and she struggled against the heavy airlessness of captivity, wondering what crime she had committed, and perhaps if she was good enough from now on, they might realize their mistake and let her go with an apology and a souvenir police mug. (I know it's a runon but how can I break it up without losing its power?)

One minute, five minutes, ten, twenty, an hour... The minutes crawled like beetles up her spine. Terrible thoughts stalked her. What if she had been forgotten about? What if her family never found out where she was? What if nobody fed her dog? What if she was sealed in plastic forever?

 

[StormFeather]

Welcome to the Chrons!

Worn from a fruitless fracas with the milk-jug white walls of her cell, Jill settled limply into the molded chair bolted to the floor. ?

This was the only sentence I had to read a couple of times as I stumbled so much with the word 'jug' which really interrupts the flow. The rest flows well though. I suggest either using milk-white, or remove the reference to milk altogether.

 

[xPeregrine]

Thanks for the crit, SF.. that one bothered me too, but the image was stuck in my mind. Plastic -- milk jug -- refrigerator -- sealed in airless plastic.. I think I'll go ahead and part with jug though.

And thanks for the welcome

 

[mosaix]

I think it would benefit from becoming more stark and impersonal, just as prison cells are meant to be. You could do this by removing her name (introduce her later) just using her and she throughout.

 

[zachariah]

I've got to be honest, I'm not grabbed. There is nothing to Jill that makes me worry about what happens to her. We need more of an emotional introduction to her (unless she is not your main character, in which case this would be an odd choice of opening).

Stylistically, I see you favour the 'X like a Y' school of description. This is fine by me, but I think you lay on the metaphors a bit thickly. Not sure if it's intentional, but following 'like a refridgerator' you have 'fruitless', 'milk-jug' and 'blast of cold'. Is this really the imagery you want to associate with what is presumably a very serious dramatic scene? Likewise 'like beetles up her spine' - this sounds more like a fancy phrase you created than something anyone has ever actually felt.

Murder your darlings.

 

[xPeregrine]

My co-author thinks that the opening paragraph has excess verbiage (and agrees that it should be more stark and impersonal.)

I wanted to balance the starkness off with a little bit of a human touch, though, so that I could establish a rooting interest (sympathies) with the protagonist.

 

[xPeregrine]

zachariah, thank you! I've been looking for someone to help me hack this thing to bits, but I've gotten mostly passive encouragement which has been crippling for me.

 

[xPeregrine]

Now how to establish more of an emotional connection to Jill earlier on....

 

[mosaix]

My co-author thinks that the opening paragraph has excess verbiage (and agrees that it should be more stark and impersonal.)

I wanted to balance the starkness off with a little bit of a human touch, though, so that I could establish a rooting interest (sympathies) with the protagonist.

But you've got to drag the reader in first, the human touch can come later.

Some very minor stuff such as dropping the word 'even' in the first sentence and the the word 'two' at the beginning of the second paragraph can make a huge difference to the way a piece reads.

Edit: welcome to the Chrons.

 

[xPeregrine]

A good point, M. I'll take that into account.

 

[Interference]

Firstly, this reads very well to me, and the following crits are meant with consideration for the obvious effort you've already put into it.

They didn't even give Jill the chance to run. Not a shout, not a struggle, not a chance to defend herself. All she could manage was a surprised squeak before black-clad arms dragged her writhing body into a van. Her abductors, about eight hours too early for the secrecy of night, didn't seem to mind the gaping one o'clock lunchers and astonished window-shoppers. But then again, that's the sort of benediction a badge imparts.

Up to here, I'm very much outside the action looking in, which I don't mind (in fact I quite like it). From here, though, it jolts a little to find myself in Jill's POV. Not that we shouldn't be, but that we aren't drawn into her head quite sufficiently, additionally coming from the cameras in the first words makes me feel like I'm still outside the action whereas your intention appears to be the reverse. I would be tempted to jump straight into Jill's head and let her scan her surroundings (which perforce include the cams ) which might be done quite simply by transposing the first and second sentences.

Two cameras watched from above, constant voyeurs. The place didn't smell manly and sweaty like she thought a prison would. It was monomers and pine, like a freshly cleaned refrigerator.

Sorry, I have no idea what monomers is, could you pressage it a little with something like "it smelt woody, like monomers etc" - I know, it probably isn't wood

Worn from a fruitless fracas with the milk-jug white walls of her cell, Jill settled limply (not sure you need "limply") into the molded chair bolted to the floor. Her hazy reflections on the polished plastic walls were so close they could have reached out and grabbed her. (dubious ) Despite a blast of cold from a vent above, her cheeks burned and she struggled against the heavy airlessness of captivity, wondering what crime she had committed, and perhaps if she was good enough from now on, (I know you said you didn't want grammar, but I'm bad at taking direction )they might realize their mistake and let her go with an apology and a souvenir police mug.

One minute, five minutes, ten, twenty, an hour... (countdown not really adding anything, imo) The minutes crawled by(?) like beetles up her spine. Terrible thoughts stalked her. What if she had been forgotten about? What if her family never found out where she was? What if nobody fed her dog? What if she was sealed in plastic forever?

Beyond this, I'd only ask you to consider why you have mixed drama and humour in quite this way. If her concern for her dog is real, it can be added as a dramatic point, but as it stands it seems to deflate the closing words appreciably. Sealed in plastic could be a much more powerful metaphor, however the whimsy has weakened it, imo.

As I say, I like your style and hope to see it developing and strengthening. All my comments are offered with respect for your efforts and in hope that my observations may help you.

 

[The Judge]

Hello there and Welcome to the Chronicles!

I know you said you didn't want the smaller stuff, but that's what I specialise in, so tough!

'They didn't even give Jill the chance to run.' Thought this was a very good, grabbing opening.

'... before black-clad arms...' Strictly speaking, arms didn't drag her, hands did. And the 'black-clad' grated on me a little.

'... dragged her writhing body...' You've just said she didn't have time to struggle.

'... about eight hours too early for the secrecy of night...' I can understand you wanting to make it clear these thugs can act with impunity, which is presumably why you have these lines in. Nonetheless, I did think this clause was wholly redundant.

'... the gaping one o'clock lunchers and astonished window-shoppers.' I'm not sure 'gaping' can be used as an adjective in this way, when you simply mean the people are standing there with their mouths open (ie as opposed to them being themselves somehow hole-y), that would be agape (ugly word I know); and your desire to balance the two halves of the clause has given it an unpleasant rhythm (try saying it out loud and you'll see what I mean).

'But then again...' This sounds too flippant for the POV of someone who has just been arrested and is presumably terrified.

'... that's the sort of benediction a badge imparts.' The odd use of 'benediction' brought me out of the story - it isn't a true synonym with 'blessing' if that's what you were aiming for, much less 'protection' or 'advantage'.

'Two cameras watched from above, constant voyeurs.' This threw me. I assumed we were still in the street, with the CCTV watching the whole thing from a building and only belatedly clicked we were inside a cell. The use of the present perfect for both paragraphs was a bit unsettling also, since there is a difference in time between the two. I can understand why you haven't used the past perfect for the opening para, though I think technically it would have been more correct.

'It was monomers and pine...' This was also something that brought me out of the story while I checked that 'monomer' meant what I thought it meant. (Didn't help that I initially thought by 'pine' you were indicating the cell was made of wood. ) Do molecules smell?

'Worn from a fruitless fracas...' Honestly, I'm not usually this stupid, but I had to read this three times before I realised you meant she'd been uselessly attacking the walls. 'Worn out' might have given me a bigger clue I suppose. The heavy alliteration I also found distracting.

'... with the milk-jug white walls of her cell...' I agree with StormFeather over this.

'... so close they could have reached out and grabbed her.' Odd image. I can understand its use with something corporeal, but reflections?

'... she struggled against the heavy airlessness of captivity...' I think I would have liked this, if you hadn't had the cold blast immediately preceding it; that made it sound glib.

'.. wondering what crime she had committed, and perhaps if she was good enough from now on, they might realize their mistake and let her go with an apology...' This sounds very detached for the POV of a woman who has been stuffed into a cell wihtout knowing what's she's done.

'... and a souvenir police mug.' Far, far too flippant if you are trying to make this whole arrest-without-reason thing sound serious. If, on the other hand, this is a comic piece, fair enough. (Yes, I know people find humour in the darkest of places, and that might be her character, but if you want us to take it seriously, you should leave the funny stuff until we know her better.)

'... crawled like beetles up her spine.' She has insects crawling up her spine regularly does she, so she knows they are beetles and not, for instance, spiders or ants? Sorry - it was such a distracting image I couldn't get past it.

'Terrible thoughts stalked her. What if she had been forgotten about? What if her family never found out where she was? What if nobody fed her dog? What if she was sealed in plastic forever?' Being forgotten about and never found? These are terrible thoughts stalking her? Cripes, I have these kind of feelings when I'm sitting in the flaming doctor's waiting room. Sorry to keep banging on about this but she's been arrested without knowing what - if anything - she's done. Where's the panic, the blind terror, the guilt, the questioning of what has she said, who has informed on her, what is going to happen?

I see that you're a bit torn between going for the stark option and trying to get a little more emotion. Perhaps you and your co-writer ought to pen separate attempts and then read them out loud and/or put them here and get feedback as to which reads better. For what it's worth, I'm happy with you calling her by name, but I think I agree that there could be some useful pruning of irrelevant sentences (the last 2 of the opening para for instance). I also think you were coming over a bit heavy with the adjectives and adverbs, particularly if you were hoping to keep it as a fairly cool (ie not over emotional) piece of writing. In 3 sentences you've 'manly... sweaty... freshly... fruitless... milk-jug white ... limply... molded... hazy... polished'.

As I've said above, yes the first sentence grabbed me. So did the second. Then things started to unwind. You have talent. You've mastered the basics of punctuation and grammar, which is always a good starting point! Yet you have some odd word choices and imagery that kept jolting me from the page, which is immediately distancing. There's also an underlying facetiousness which prevented me sympathising with Jill. It's the kind of tone I associate with hard-boiled 1930s US detective novels which are fun but they don't allow you to get close to the protagonist.

Would I read on? Yes. But I'm not sure how much longer I would give her.

Hope this helps a little. And don't forget, no matter what we may say about what we like or dislike, you can never please everyone. And the writing is yours - so listen, think about the comments and then make your own judgement.

J

PS And again - Welcome!! Hope you like it here.

 

[xPeregrine]

I just have to say, these are some of the best critiques I've gotten. Ever.

I think I've found a new home

 

[Interference]

Welcome home

 

[TheEndIsNigh]

Hi everyone,

I participate in 2 writing communities, but given the nature of my work, I thought it best to find a SF+F one, so hello!

I need fresh eyes to go over my opening for content, whether it grabs the attention, flow, pacing and style.

I'm not looking for smaller grammatical issues.

Thanks so much in advance!

They didn't even give Jill the chance to run. Not a shout, not a struggle, not a chance to defend herself. (first too many nots. also if they were police then defence isn't really an option. It's not like they walked up and shot her) All she could manage was a surprised squeak before black-clad arms dragged her writhing body into a van (that would be true if they gagged her (no mention) however given the time it takes to manhandle a struggling writhing person into a van then there's plenty of time to shout/scream obscenities etc. She should do these things and then you can have the onlookers looking round seeing the police and then turning back to their affairs.) Her abductors, about eight hours too early for the secrecy of night, (nice phrase could be wasted here though - it's mid day as you say later so why have two references to the time) didn't seem to mind the gaping one o'clock lunchers and astonished window-shoppers. But then again, that's the sort of benediction (nice) a badge imparts.

Two cameras watched from above, constant voyeurs. (Move to end of previous paragraph - it's out on a limb here) The place didn't smell manly and sweaty like she thought a prison would. It was monomers and pine, like a freshly cleaned refrigerator. Worn from a fruitless fracas with the milk-jug (milk is white jugs are any colour unless the cell is jug shaped of course in which case OK) white walls of her cell, Jill settled limply into the molded chair bolted to the floor. Her hazy reflections on the polished plastic walls (whoa they were white a minute ago where's the reflection from) were so close they could have reached out and grabbed her. Despite a blast of cold from a vent above, her cheeks burned and she struggled against the heavy airlessness of captivity (you can't have it both ways - there's a draft from above it can't be airless), wondering what crime she had committed, and perhaps if she was good enough from now on, they might realize their mistake and let her go with an apology and a souvenir police mug. (I know it's a runon but how can I break it up without losing its power?) (well we don't know if she is innocent, we haven't been told, I've assumed up to now that she's as guilty as hell. Does this need to be mentioned as in.

She wondered why they had struck now. The bomb hadn't gone off yet and she knew there was nothing to raise their suspicions before the devastation occurred. Afterwards would be different of course. Fingerprints on the control mechanism, tracing the explosive to her card, anything could lead them to her then. But now? It must be a mistake. Soon they will admit it and let her go with an apology and a souvenir mug-(shot)

One minute, five minutes, ten, twenty, an hour... The minutes crawled like beetles up her spine. (again nice imagery - however, time isn't referenced by the tread of beetles footprints spine or otherwise. she frightened and times dragging don't try to mix the two IMO. Separate them and you get two things playing on her mind which bulks it out and you can have more fun - I see you try and do this later though you don't explore the possibilities in great depth For time passing and I wonder if this is done in real life the tick of a clock can really mess your mind about if the tic tic tic is the only noise in the room -Water torture - see bit at the end) Terrible thoughts stalked her. What if she had been forgotten about? What if her family never found out where she was? What if nobody fed her dog? What if she was sealed in plastic forever?

Bit at the end :-

Time was becoming a problem now. Too much, with nothing to fill it. The clock had become her tormentor, it's relentless ticking pacing out the tedium and terror. Like a metronome it triggered a new fear. Tic. What if here family never found out where she was. Tic. Would anybody ever discover what had happened to her or would she rot in this hell hole. Dying an insignificant death from starvation, a beating, or worse. Tic. What would happen to her dog. Would Fluffy die eagerly waiting for her mistress to return to feed and love her, though she never would. The poor things emaciated body being found weeks later because some neighbour couldn't stand the smell. Tic. .... and so on

Hope I helped. Oh and thanks for the briefness of the piece. So much easier than having to critique the OED like extracts we sometimes get

TEiN

 

[The Judge]

Hello again xPeregrine - can I call you Perry? Or is is Pippin?

TEiNs comments above illustrate one of the perennial problems of putting things up for critique - namely you can't please everyone!

The second sentence he didn't like because there were too many 'not's in it - I loved it, and that repetition of words is something that I do again and again in my writing. (See!) Contrariwise, that imagery of the beetles and the spine I thought odd, he likes. Obviously his comments are just as valid as mine - more so, because he's been doing this kind of thing a lot longer than I have and I imagine has been around the block quite a few times more (no offence TEiN ). That's why, ultimately it's for you to decide what to keep and what to scrap.

Anyway, I've been thinking more about the issue of the slightly cynical voice you use, weighed against the need to empathise with Jill. I can't see a way easily to reconcile the two, To my mind you'll have to make a decision whether to go for a stark, sardonic feel to the piece, or a more emotional, empathetic one. But, and it's a big but, I am far from an expert on POV and that kind of thing - and it is the single biggest issue I have problems with in my own writing. If you don't attract the attention of anyone with something to say on this which is more useful than my thoughts, it might perhaps be an idea to post another thread asking for specific help on that point if it's worrying you.

Hope this helps. And yes - to echo TEiN, thanks for reading the layout guide and producing a short, nicely spaced, extract. Would that everyone did this!

J

 

[TheEndIsNigh]

Judge:

"has been around the block quite a few times more"

I mean, come on, just cos I think we`re all heading to hell in a hand cart doesn't mean I'm "over the hill" or some "ancient decrepit"

Just because I sound like a miserable, cynical, old fart is not actual proof.

In fact I'm an eighteen year old six pack packing Adonis as any of those fellow Chronies privileged to meet me will affirm on a stack of bibles.

As for The Beatles - they were good - Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

I particularly liked the imagery of crawling up her spine but in the context it was used it didn't work.

Oh just in case there's any doubt - No offence taken

 

[Blackrook]

Is Jill in a jail cell or is she in an interrogation room? The reason I ask is that it is more usual for a person just recently arrested to be put in an interrogation room and the fact that there's cameras and a chair bolted to the floor made me think it is an interrogation room rather than a jail cell.

 

[The Judge]

In fact I'm an eighteen year old six pack packing Adonis as any of those fellow Chronies privileged to meet me will affirm on a stack of bibles.

/QUOTE]

Wow, TEiN. I didn't realise. I take it all back. No wonder you enjoy wearing lederhosen. Incidentally, just for the record I have to say I have the body of a 17 year old...

... I'm just not telling anyone what I've done with him.

J