Prologue to my 'finished' novel (currently being proof read... again)

[RcGrant]

I'm not one who can't take criticism, but it's pretty hard to see faults picked (rightly so, of course) with something you've worked so hard on, as I'm sure you all know!

It really is hard, and harder still, I expect, seeing little rejection slips coming through the front door. Still, it has happened to every published writer out there, so we're in good company.

 

[Noah Phoenix]

I'm no good with criticism either, but these guys know what they're talking about. Its one thing to be told your writings crap, but when it comes with the suggestions and obvious talent, it makes it allot easier!

 

[The Judge]

Fal, I've been thinking of Zachariah's comments about the merchant locking himself in the cabin if the scroll is so precious. I know you said you want him on deck but it occurs to me that you could make an effective scene of it with him hearing everything but seeing none of it, and trying to make sense of the orders and who is speaking etc, which I would have thought would be even more panic-making for him (and also means you don't have to write about what the sailors are doing!). Alternatively, since this is only a prologue and you can be profligate with characters who needn't turn up again, why not give him a servant who acts as a kind of fixer-cum-bodyguard on his travels? You can then have the servant keeping the scroll safe in the cabin while the merchant is on deck. You might even find that the servant is the one who demands to be written and he puts himself on deck while the merchant stays in the cabin, prostrated with sea-sickness.

And we all know how difficult it is to put work up for criticism, in the sure and certain expectation of plaudits and instead to receive niggles and nit-picks and general lack of appreciation of your greatness! I recently had my own work mauled by someone whose opinion I greatly respect and I promptly went into melt-down. Several buckets of chocolate later I'm back on an even keel and anxious to show him how much better I can make it. (I think that the technical term for this is Stockholm Syndrome!!) So congratulations (a) for putting your work up for critique in the first place and (b) accepting our comments in the spirit in which they were given.

J

 

[Fal]

Awee guys, I almost feel like crying at how nice you are (damn cider!) lol.

I really do appreciate the cricism and my head is already turning over what you have all said.

As for the grammer, that's something I need to work on for sure, but I like learning and am certain that I will enjoy it and (obviously) find it extremely useful now and in the future!

Judge, I like the thought of that, gives me a chance to create and write about another character, which is, lets face it, a whole part of why we do this, and so I look forward to playing around with that idea, so thank you!
Your also right that the characters in the prologue (well, the ones in the critique anyway) don't make an appearance in the rest of the novel and therefore, I have the scope to throw another one in there, as you suggested.

Also, to answer a comment mentioned much earlier, about giving the merchant buyer (or should I say agent ) a name: I don't feel that personally, since he won't make an appearence after the prologue, and I don't want to throw names in there for the reader to get used to, just to have to forget again.

I do love creating names for characters though, don't you all? I have a system for some, where I take tray/file surnames at work, and add them to other surnames. You come up with some great sounding names that way, which work great for fantasy or sci-fi, or even spy thrillers! lol Try it! Get the phone book out and choose random surnames and thow them together to see what you get!

How do you pick names for your characters? (Should I start a fresh thread? hehe). Anyone use names that hint at anything? For example: Rayner Darklowd for a 'baddy', or Sumner Raynboe for a 'goody', but less obvious or cheesy of course lol

 

[Noah Phoenix]

I called my wife a 'faffer' last night, and ended up with the name Faffer Tabb. Names come from the strangest of places!
The best one I've come up with randomly has to be Ramjim Jallywal. Just popped into my head one day when I was thinking of names for someone else. Silly, but sounds good for a YA book.

 

[Fal]

Certainly does! It made me literally LOL!

I must admit, apart from taking the surnames at work and throwing them together, I find myself stopping work all of a sudden and grabbing a pen to scribble down a name I've just thought of. It usually comes after hearing, or miss-hearing someone say something over the machines. They find it highly amusing in the lab and try to come up with names I like, just so I jot them down.

 

[RcGrant]

Most of the time I'm not sure where the names I choose come from - characters walk into my head and bluntly tell me. My favourite character was different - I was reading a book of facts and his name jumped out at me. And a character I was introduced to today came about because I was writing on my lunch break at work, and one of my employees disturbed me to ask a question; when I looked back at my notebook, there was a half written word which rearranged itself in my brain to become a name.

 

[Fal]

Well I have done some more work on my book, including (obviously) my prologue. I haven't created a new character for the merchant's agent as suggested, but I have taken on board a lot of what was said on this critique.

I still expect there is work needed, and i'm a little skeptical with regards to the speach I have changed with the sailors etc.. as I haven't written like that before and don't know if it is too much!?!?

Anyway, see what you think, and I appreciate any time taken out to read and comment!!

Thanks in advance guys and gals, here goes:

Prologue​

The well dressed, portly man grimaced as the bitter taste of salt stung his dry, cracked lips. The spray from the sea was cold and never seemed to cease, no matter where the merchant’s agent stood on the wooden deck of the hired mercenary ship. He listened to the large vessel creak as it changed tack, the great, off-white sails flapping and snapping as the strong wind caught and filled them.

The ship’s crew, who seemed to wear as little as possible, scrambled across the rigging as they followed the first mate’s orders.

A sail had been spotted on the horizon to the rear of them and the captain was taking no chances, no matter how heavily armed his ship and crew were. His paymaster was offering a handsome reward for the safe return of his agent and cargo, and should the captain lose any of it to even the smallest of skirmishes with pirates, then the whole trip would have been a waste of time and money, not to mention reputation, which was far harder to regain.

‘Ye see a flag, boy?’ called the grisly first mate.

‘Can’t see none. They must’ve seen us, yet they’re making no move our way.’ The boy in the crow’s nest had to shout to be heard over the roar of the waves.

’Not pirates then,’ muttered the first mate.

The agent nervously fingered an iron key that hung on a chain around his neck and sighed with obvious relief as he barely heard, but got the thankful gist of the first mate’s comment. He had been given a great deal of trust by his employer with this trip and had struck gold with his last find whilst in the south; a scroll that he was sure his employer would agree made the trip worth while on its own.

The jittery agent winced as the first mate roughly slapped him on the back. ’Don’t worry none Sir, we’ll have ye home to Wesson ‘fore you can say Samorl’s ball’s,’ laughed the first mate.

The agent frowned at the blasphemous remark and glanced at the captain disapprovingly.

The captain, who stood on the aftcastle above the two men, indicated he hadn’t heard the remark and merely shrugged.

A cold wind chilled the air, despite the sun beating down on the deck, and the agent couldn’t help but wonder what the weather was like back home, a place that seemed very far away indeed. He traveled often by sea, but knew nothing of the trade. A passenger was all he ever was, and yet this time, aboard this mercenary ship, he felt a nervousness he hadn’t felt since his first voyage many years ago.

The boy in the crows nest leaned precariously over the side to shout down to the officers below. ’Sails turned, now head’n away, t’ the south.’ The crew visibly relaxed before the first mate barked a fresh order, which they attended to swiftly.

Looking to the sky, the agent thanked Sir Samorl and politely excused himself, much to the amusement of those around him.

He staggered towards the ship’s stern, where he opened a wooden door in the base of the aftcastle, and entered his quarters. Unlike the merchant ship’s quarters he was used to, this was far smaller and far less impressive, with no décor at all. He had to remind himself that for this trip, his employer in Wesson had insisted on a mercenary vessel instead of the usual merchant vessel, due to the nature and value of the goods he’d been sent south to buy.

Before he could close the door, the agent heard the boy from the crow’s nest call out again. ‘Sail on horizon, north this time’n head’n fer us.’

Swallowing hard and sweating profusely despite the chill, the agent stepped back through the portal, closed his cabin door securely behind him and looked up to the captain who stood at the front rail of the aftcastle above.

The crew busied themselves around the rigging as the agent watched on. The heavily tanned men and women, for there were two of what the agent considered to be extremely masculine looking women in the crew, scurried up and down ropes, nets, across beams and rails, higher and higher up into the great, tall masts of the large ship. This all made him rather dizzy as he peered up at the severely swaying mizzen-mast which stood directly in front of him, his plump face a sour shade of green. He looked out towards the horizon then, wishing for land to focus his sights on to settle his stomach.

’What’s her heading, nest?’ called the captain, his voice calm, yet projecting easily up to the top of the main-mast. It was the most the agent had heard the man say in hours.

’Still head’n fer us, Cap‘n,’ the boy shouted back down.

’Very well, keep your eye on the sail behind us as well. I don’t want any surprises, boy.’

The boy pointed south. ’Aye Cap’n, that one’s still head’n away.’

’You ‘eard the lad. Look sharp’n be ready to change tack again should I ask yer to,’ bellowed the first mate as he approached the agent, a leering grin spreading across his pock marked face.

’Archers on deck,’ yelled another, younger officer from the centre of the ship, and the agent heard a commotion below as over two dozen men with un-strung yew bows climbed up ladders and piled out of trapdoors. They formed rough ranks at the centre of the ship and within seconds had strung their bows. They had white, linen bags of arrows at their sides and a variety of hand axes and short swords, cutlasses and rapiers hanging from their belts.

‘Be ready wi’ which side I want yer, when I call fer it,’ howled the first mate and the archers voiced their acknowledgement.

The ship crashed over a particularly large wave and the agent stumbled, catching himself at the last minute by taking hold of the first mate’s shoulder. He cursed the ship, his cheeks turning from green to red as he noticed how not only the sailors, but the archers too, had hardly moved as the ship rolled over the giant wave.

‘Yer might be best in yer cabin, Sir, should things get nasty, ye see,’ offered the first mate and the well dressed man’s eyes widened with fear at the possibility. He was now unsure whether his churning insides were due to the motion of the ship, or the possibility of a violent clash with pirates.

‘Yes, your right,’ stammered the agent as he nervously fingered the key around his neck once more. ‘I’ll leave you gentlemen to your area of expertise. I don’t want to get in your way, but… should you need me… just-’

‘We’s know where to find ye, aye Sir.’ The first mate winked.

The blushing man gave a shallow bow and hurried back into his cabin, closing the door behind him and sliding the bolt across as more yelling erupted on deck.

He played with the key around his neck a little longer whilst pacing up and down the length of his small cot. As the shouting increased still further outside his cabin, he removed the now warm key, placed it into the hole of a heavy, iron padlock hanging from an oak chest at the foot of his cot, and turned it. He opened the chest’s lid after the mechanical clunk of mechanisms inside the padlock allowed him to do so. He then checked, for the hundredth time, the expensive, magical item inside, and stroked the ancient wrapping that held the magnificent scroll in the centre of the chest, before closing the lid and clamping the heavy, iron padlock through the locking loop once again.

The ship lurched suddenly and the agent dropped onto the small cot, which creaked in protest. He placed the chain which held the key back around his neck, lifted his legs up, gripped his knees and closed his eyes, willing the sickly feeling away and praying that the sail coming towards them didn’t belong to a pirate ship.
Whilst lying on the cot, the agent rocked back and forth ever so slightly as he felt the ship changing course.

The captain, first mate and other officer’s voices roared orders left, right and centre.

Then he heard the order he hoped he would not.

He heard the order for the archers to loose.

 

[TheEndIsNigh]

HI Fal,

First off the font is pushing the limit on size but here goes >

red - remove IMO
Blue - comments
Green - suggested alternatives - maybe

Well I have done some more work on my book, including (obviously) my prologue. I haven't created a new character for the merchant's agent as suggested, but I have taken on board a lot of what was said on this critique.

I still expect there is work needed, and i'm a little skeptical with regards to the speach I have changed with the sailors etc.. as I haven't written like that before and don't know if it is too much!?!?

Anyway, see what you think, and I appreciate any time taken out to read and comment!!

Thanks in advance guys and gals, here goes:

​

Prologue​

The well dressed, portly man grimaced as the bitter taste of salt stung his dry, cracked lips. (there's something there about the grimace that jars - If you actually did that then the salt would sting even more which I think might/may deserve a mention as in - he immediately regretted his reaction as the salt...) The spray from the sea was cold and never seemed to cease (and ceaseless) , no matter where the merchant’s agent stood on the wooden deck of the hired (is there a better word than hired chartered maybe) mercenary (it might be the mercenaries ship rather than a ship that is in itself mercenary in which case hired is un-required - it comes with the hired help) ship. He listened to the large vessel creak as it changed tack, the great, off-white sails flapping and snapping as the strong wind caught and filled them. (Actually if your in a strong wind the last thing you want is a flapping sail and the sail wouldn't be filled if it was flapping - you could focus on the strain of the sheets/ropes as they strained against the cleats or whatever)

The ship’s crew, who seemed (,despite the cold, maybe) to wear as little as possible, scrambled across (in and around possibly) the rigging as they followed the first mate’s orders.

A sail had been spotted on the horizon to the rear of them and the captain was taking no chances, no matter how heavily armed his ship and crew were. His paymaster was offering a handsome reward for the safe return of his agent and cargo, and should the captain lose any of it to even the smallest of skirmishes with pirates, then the whole trip would have been a waste of time and money, not to mention reputation, which was far harder to regain. (was it a merchant ship or a mercenary)

‘Ye see a flag, boy?’ called the grisly first mate.

‘Can’t see none. They must’ve seen us, yet they’re making no move our way.’ The boy in the crow’s nest had to shout to be heard (shouted) over the roar of the waves.

’Not pirates then,’ muttered the first mate.

The agent nervously fingered an iron key that hung on a chain around his neck and sighed with obvious relief as he barely heard, but got (caught) the thankful gist of the first mate’s comment. He had been given a great deal of trust by his employer with this trip and had struck gold with his last find whilst in the south; a scroll that he was sure his employer would agree made the trip worth while on its own.

The jittery agent winced as the first mate roughly slapped him on the back. ’Don’t worry none Sir, we’ll have ye home to Wesson ‘fore you can say Samorl’s ball’s,’ laughed the first mate.

The agent frowned at the blasphemous remark and glanced at the captain disapprovingly.

The captain, who stood on the aftcastle above the two men, indicated he hadn’t heard the remark and merely shrugged. (merely shugged, this was a hard ship with a hard crew. maybe.)

A cold wind chilled the air, (it was a strong wind a minute ago) despite the sun beating down on the deck, and the agent couldn’t help but wonder what the weather was like back home, a place that seemed very far away indeed. He traveled often by sea, but knew nothing of the trade (unlikely he''s a merchants man) A passenger was all he ever was, and yet this time, aboard this mercenary ship, he felt a nervousness he hadn’t felt since his first voyage many years ago.

The boy in the crows nest leaned precariously over the side to shout down to the officers below. ’Sails turned, now head’n away, t’ the south.’ The crew (mate maybe it's unlikely he would tell if those up in the rigging had suddenly relaxed) visibly relaxed before the first mate barked a fresh order, which they attended to swiftly.

Looking to the sky, the agent thanked Sir Samorl and politely excused himself, much to the amusement of those around him. (Why?)

He staggered towards the ship’s stern, (he' was standing just in front of the aft castle - how much further back can he get) where he opened a wooden door (it would be wooden - just a door) in the base of the aftcastle, and entered his quarters. Unlike the (a) merchant ship’s quarters he was used to, this was far smaller and far less impressive, with no décor at all. He had to remind himself that for this trip, his employer in Wesson had insisted on a mercenary vessel instead of the usual merchant vessel (I don't understand the difference and it's been said before), due to the nature and value of the goods he’d been sent south to buy.

Before he could close the door, the agent heard the boy from the crow’s nest call out again. ‘Sail on horizon, north this time’n head’n fer us.’

Swallowing hard and sweating profusely despite the chill, the agent stepped back through the portal, closed his cabin door securely behind him and looked up to the captain who stood at the front rail of the aftcastle above.

The crew busied themselves around the rigging as the agent watched on. The heavily tanned men and women, for there were two of what the agent considered to be extremely masculine looking women in the crew, scurried up and down ropes, nets, (rigging) across beams (spars) and rails, higher and higher up into the great, tall masts of the large ship. (I think you would benefit if you studied the parts of an old square rigged sailing ship) This all made him rather dizzy as he peered up at the severely swaying mizzen-mast which stood directly in front of him, his plump face a sour shade of green. He looked out towards the horizon then, wishing for land to focus his sights on to settle his stomach.

’What’s her heading, nest?’ called the captain, his voice calm, yet projecting easily up to the top of the main-mast. It was the most the agent had heard the man say in hours.

’Still head’n fer us, Cap‘n,’ the boy shouted back down.

’Very well, keep your eye on the sail behind us as well. I don’t want any surprises, boy.’

The boy pointed south. ’Aye Cap’n, that one’s still head’n away.’

’You ‘eard the lad. Look sharp’n be ready to change tack again should I ask yer to,’ bellowed the first mate (is this at the agent? if it is then why) as he approached the agent, a leering grin spreading across his pock marked face.

’Archers on deck,’ yelled another, younger officer from the centre of the ship, and the agent heard a commotion below as over two dozen men with un-strung yew bows climbed up ladders and piled out of trapdoors. (the problem is that long bows in a sea sprayed ship would be fairly ineffective the deck would be pitching and the spray would ruin the strings, unless they're stainless steel) They formed rough ranks at the centre of the ship and within seconds had strung their bows. They had white, linen bags of arrows at their sides and a variety of hand axes and short swords, cutlasses and rapiers hanging from their belts.

‘Be ready wi’ which side I want yer, when I call fer it,’ howled the first mate and the archers voiced their acknowledgement.

The ship crashed over a particularly large wave and the agent stumbled, catching himself at the last minute by taking hold of the first mate’s shoulder. He cursed the ship, his cheeks turning from green to red (unrelated events it suggests that the cheeks changed colour as a result of this observation IMO) as he noticed how not only the sailors, but the archers too, had hardly moved as the ship rolled over the giant wave.

‘Yer might be best in yer cabin, Sir, should things (things could) get nasty, ye see,’ offered the first mate and the well dressed man’s eyes widened with fear at the possibility. He was now unsure whether his churning insides were due to the motion of the ship, or the possibility of a violent clash with pirates. (no, we know why above - and it's more likely that the thought of a clash would empty his stomach contents not churn them up)

‘Yes, your right,’ stammered the agent as he nervously fingered the key around his neck once more. ‘I’ll leave you gentlemen to your area of expertise. I don’t want to get in your way, but… should you need me… just-’

‘We’s know where to find ye, aye Sir.’ The first mate winked.

The blushing man gave a shallow bow and hurried back into his cabin, closing the door behind him and sliding the bolt across as more yelling erupted on deck.

(This is where you could work in the urgent need to relieve himself by returning to his cabin and using the facilities - laughter/comments from the crew would make more sense here) could

He played with the key around his neck a little longer whilst pacing up and down the length of his small cot (?). As the shouting increased still further outside his cabin, he removed the now warm key, placed it into the hole of a heavy, iron padlock hanging from an oak chest at the foot of his cot, and turned it. He opened the chest’s lid after the mechanical clunk of mechanisms inside the padlock allowed him to do so. He then (and) checked, for the hundredth time, the expensive, magical item inside, and stroked the ancient wrapping that held the magnificent scroll in the centre of the chest, before closing the lid and (fixing the) clamping the heavy, iron padlock through the locking loop once again. (,securing the chest once more)

The ship lurched suddenly and the agent dropped onto the small cot, which creaked in protest. He placed the chain which held the key back around his neck, lifted his legs up, gripped his knees and closed his eyes, willing the sickly feeling away and praying that the sail coming towards them didn’t belong to a pirate ship.
Whilst lying on the cot, the agent rocked back and forth ever so slightly as he felt the ship changing course. (no that para doesn't sound right somehow - I understand the way you are thinking it just seems laboured)

The captain, first mate and other officer’s voices roared orders left, right and centre.

Then he heard the order he hoped he would not.

He heard the order for the archers to loose.

Much improved from last time though as you can see IMO it still needs a little more work.

Sorry if the comments are still on the negative side but I hope I helped.

TEiN

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

Also, to answer a comment mentioned much earlier, about giving the merchant buyer (or should I say agent ) a name: I don't feel that personally, since he won't make an appearence after the prologue, and I don't want to throw names in there for the reader to get used to, just to have to forget again.

Logically speaking, your reasons for not giving him a name sound good. Artistically speaking, they sound weak and flimsy. If you give names to things it makes them appear more concrete; if you give names to characters they appear more three-dimensional. It doesn't matter if your readers have no need to remember a name later, if the name makes the scene in which it appears better, and if its absence would take something away. The scene has to work by itself -- and especially because it's the first one in the book.

So what you have here is a scene in which nobody has a proper name, not even the most important character. No matter how vivid the writing in the scene is otherwise, you have cut off an important -- and easy -- opportunity to make it even more vivid, more three-dimensional, more involving.

The way you have it also looks like you are trying to be mysterious by needlessly withholding information -- which is both a cliché and a very, very tired affectation used by new writers in order to make themselves look clever. From what you say, that is very far from what you are actually doing, but an editor picking up your manuscript and reading the first few pages will almost certainly think that it is, and heave a weary sigh.

Give the man a name. In fact, I think you should give the Captain a name, too, and probably the ship. So what if readers never see any of them again and can forget the names later? Give readers what they need when they need it, and they can tend to the forgetting and remembering for themselves.

You mention parts of the ship -- crow's nest, aftcastle, main mast -- but you leave out the ship's personality. Ships do have them, and to those on board that personality is both pervasive and vital (in large part because their lives depend on it), that is why ships are called "she" and not "it." That is why they have names. Meanwhile, a Captain on his own ship should be far too important a figure to appear as a nameless nonentity. You can name all the parts of the ship you want, but you need to catch the spirit of the thing, and I don't think you do.

You might also figure out what kind of ship it is (carrack, caravel, galleon, etc.), and mention that. Even if readers don't know a cog from a sampan, they should think that you do. These things give readers confidence, and at some point in the story you will have to cash in some of your confidence chips. Start accumulating them now.

This may sound like a lot of work for such a small part of the book, but coming where it does it is a tremendously important part of the book -- the part where an agent or an editor should look at it and say, "This person can write" -- so I believe it would be worth it to do some research: My recommenations would be that you read one or more of Herman Melville's sea-going adventures, Moby Dick, Typhoo, or Omoo. Or pick up Richard Henry Dana's Two Years Before the Mast. They will give you more information than you need now, but you can always store up the knowledge if you need it later. (It never hurts to be researching the book you don't even know you are going to write yet.)

Now for some basic writing stuff: I think you are using too many "said bookisms," sometimes abbreviated to "saidisms" -- these are words used in place of the word "said" in your dialogue tags. Some professionals writers will tell you that saidisms are the spawn of the devil; others will say they are fine if used sparingly. But, just as one instance, you have the first mate call, mutter, and laugh his comments in swift succession. For more on the subject of said bookisms The Use and Abuse of Dialogue Tags

 

[Michael01]

It's a shame I can't clone a mini you and have you placed on my laptop

I want one! Only I'd put him on my monitor, since I don't have a laptop ... but everyone should have a mini Chris! He would surely work a thousand times better than a word processor's grammar checker.

While I might sometimes think I'm not half bad in the grammar department, I'm just not in the same league as Chrispenycate and The Judge. I'm glad I'm going back to school. Even then I probably won't reach their level of expertise, but I'll surely get by.

Seriously, I read this piece, Fal, and liked it. I'm intrigued and would definitely continue reading. Since just about everything has been covered, though, I'm sorry I can't offer anything more constructive. I will say they've all made some very good points and it would be a good idea to consider them closely.

 

[Fal]

Thanks Michael, Teresa and TEiN!!!!

It doesn't hit as hard as it did the first time I offered this (part) prologue up for critique. I've honestly realised what a great opportunity it is for me to be able to take onboard your advice and oppinions, some of which point things out to me that I feel foolish I didn't notice myself, some of which point things out in a different light, therefore allowing me to re-think them and some of which I can see the point, however, don't agree with, but still appreciate anyway!

You have, again, given me a vast amount to think about, but rightly so!

I have looked into ships and had added things through that, although I now kick myself regarding the rigging etc.. something so simple. I had, also, chosen the ship to be a Carrack, but this is mentioned later in the Prologue propper, although I do agree it should be mentioned earlier on now. I also really agree, after reading your post Teresa, that those mentioned, as well as the ship, need naming! Something I believe I had copped out on really, at a vital part of the book and my story.

As for the saidisms... your right again! Looking back at it now, i've gone to town on them, and I had previously read about how they can bog down a reader, it seems I just ended up ignoring that fact, by the looks of it!

As for the Archers on deck TEiN. I see your point and know that when a bow's string gets wet, it becomes ineffective, however, they were used on medieval ships in warfare. I do take the comment on board though, and therefore think it would be wise to place them on the fore and aft castles of the ship.
I don't like the term longbow btw (personally), as this was a victorian addition (it's so like them). They were simply called 'war bows' back then, although I haven't even used that in this case, as I wasn't intending for these bows to be the full 6ft (approx) weapons. Maybe its misleading though, i'll look at that again.

Also I don't quite agree with the voiding bowels part. I can see how that would work, but that's a matter of oppinion. There's things any of us would have characters do differently in any block buster novel, it doesn't mean the writer should have had them do it, as everyone acts in different ways and, after a near death experience in my life, I certainly didn't rush off to the toilet, no matter how many times we use the term 'I nearly S**T myself.'
I'm not being funny though, and I appreciate the input on all of it, just feel, myself, like that's how the character would/is acting, and I have to remember that it's my story being told.

I do, honestly, appreciate your time, all of you and thank you all again for your valuable input!!! It is most welcome!

Thanks folks!

Jon

ps: I'm glad the story made you want to read on Michael, makes me fuzzy inside!!

 

[TheEndIsNigh]

Fal:

Also I don't quite agree with the voiding bowels part. I can see how that would work, but that's a matter of oppinion. There's things I would have characters do differently in block buster novels I have read, it doesn't mean the writer should have had them do it, as everyone acts in different ways and, after a near death experience in my life, I certainly didn't rush off to the toilet, no matter how many times we use the term 'I nearly S**T myself.
I'm not being funny, and I appreciate the input on all of it, just clearing up parts I disagree with.

No that's fair enough. I haven't got any axes to grind about that at all (they were all nicked by a bunch of lusty sailors recently in a pub I visited )

An alternative to the bow string problem would be that after the ship changed course it could be sailing with the waves so that the ship wouldn't be thrown about so much and the spray would be less and the speed might increase if it's square rigged. This would not only have the advantage of getting your archers on deck but would show the reader you've thought about it as in:-

The captain ordered a course change. This had two advantages, his archers could now safely be brought to bear on the approaching ship and they would be upwind of it and so give them a longer range...

Insert something about a calmer course and then

Archers on deck,’ yelled another, younger officer from the centre of ....

or something of the kind.

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

As for the Archers on deck TEiN. I see your point and know that when a bow's string gets wet, it becomes ineffective, however, they were used on medieval ships in warfare.

You're right. The strings weren't really a problem anyway, because they waxed them. Although if the bows were laminate (as were bows in the Middle East and in countries that traded with the Middle East during the Medieval period) there could be a problem with the bows themselves. But while the English pretty much stuck with what are now called long bows, other nations had a preference for crossbows on ships.

(All this according to my husband who is something of an expert on medieval and Renaissance archery.)

 

[Fal]

Can you tell us the pub? I want to stay away from that one! lol I was worried I wasn't sounding grateful regarding that comment, and might have sounded off with you, i'm glad you didn't see it like that TEiN!!

That's an interesting point about changing course etc... I like that! I'm going to do some more research and also (after the series I am currently reading) going to look into some sea faring novels as suggested! Will prove invaluable AND fun!

That's some interesting information regarding archers Teresa! I'm a member of a medieval re-enactment society, although I don't take part in the archery side (or much at all these days, due to work), but the information I do have is largely from them. I need more it seems, so i'm glad I have a good source for it, i'll be emailing and phoning a few of them in the near future! I know about recurve bows from the east etc... but didn't know that they laminated bows (none of the group ever told me that, I don't suppose it's something that comes up in regular conversations lol). I did know about them waxing them though and also keeping them under their hats - hence the term, 'keep it under your hat.' I'm definately going to request more information from them though!

I just want to thank you both again by the way! this novel is something I have been working on for almost two years, but am in no rush to finish, I just want it right. It's something I always thought about, but never started, until I thought 'why not!'
It really means a lot though, to have people who really know their stuff, help and give advice. I may not be the next top author, by very far indeed, but I do have a dream to be published one day, and I thank you both again for pointing me in the right direction and making that (hopefully) possible in the futrue!

Kindest regards,
Jonathan

 

[Michael01]

I'm glad the story made you want to read on Michael, makes me fuzzy inside!!

You're welcome. But I hope you're not quite so liberal with the exclamation points in your fiction as you are in your posts...

 

[Fal]

lol no!!! Although I did read a book that said: A novel isn't a textbook, and therefore you should feel free, within reason, to add any extras you want if you feel your story benefits from it... including exclamation marks,!!!
Don't worry though, I haven't!!!!!!!! lol

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

My husband belongs to an international organization devoted to the research and recreation of pre-17th century arts and skills (which is a fancy way of saying that he belongs to the Society for Creative Anachronism). Within the organization, he's highly respected for his expertise on archery -- as a form of recreation and an art of war -- which has been a passion of his for 30+ years.

I don't know if your reenactment group is focussed on one era or one particular event as so many of them are, or if their interests are more wide-ranging. But if you need a broader perspective, I know my husband will be glad to answer your questions, either directly (he does have an account here which I have prodded him into using a handful of times to answer people's questions) or through me.

That part about the phrase "keep it under your hat," though, is one of those things that lots of people know because ... well, lots of people say so. But the phrase doesn't appear in any medieval source, and it usually refers to something being kept secret, rather than safe or in reserve. Besides, archers often wore helmets into combat, and when they didn't, were as likely to wear hoods as hats. There is one recorded battle during the Hundred Years War at which archers did indeed keep their bowstrings under their hats (which I'm assuming is where your friends got the idea), but in general use, not so likely, and not the origin of the phrase.

"Keep it under your hat" by the way, could just as well mean keep it in the place under your hat, that is, your head. This seems to be the way it was used in some of its earliest uses: keep your thoughts to yourself.

 

[Michael01]

lol no!!! Although I did read a book that said: A novel isn't a textbook, and therefore you should feel free, within reason, to add any extras you want if you feel your story benefits from it... including exclamation marks,!!!
Don't worry though, I haven't!!!!!!!! lol

Oh, definitely true. Just remember the key phrase is within reason. But I was just messing with you anyway.

 

[Fal]

Don't worry, I got that Michael

Wow, that's all great stuff Teresa! Our group concentrates on Edwards I and II, and so although we have quite a few members who are heavily interested in (and some very good at) medieval archery, it isn't their soal area of expertise, unlike your husband, and that's a wonderful offer, thank you!

In all honesty, it's been a fair while since I was emersed in the hobby, so there is probably more that I have forgotten, than retained. I'm lucky with fantasy/fiction however, that there are no strict rules to what I write, but I do like to use my knowledge and as much historical fact as possible regarding the weapons/armour and warfare that is/will be in my book/s. So again, I thank you for the offer and will most certainly use it in the future!

It certainly narks me when reading/watching fantasy, when simple things are wrong with regards to armour/weapons/warfare etc... I guess it's always the same when the book/film regards a subject you know something about ie: my friends int he forces are a nightmare to watch army movies with lol
With that in mind though, I have wanted to use as much as I knew, and more through research, regarding weapons used, armour worn etc... even though I don't have to for a fantasy. It just gives it an extra level of realism to me.

I certainly need to do a lot of reading up again, but to start with, it shall be on ships (after the series I am reading, which is called: Book 1 - Gardens of the Moon - Series - 'A tale of the malazan book of the fallen' - by Steven Erikson).