Euellula makes an entrance

[ventanamist]

This is from my novel in progress. It has a long way to go but I have a pretty good idea how it will eventually shape up. I have already introduced most of the main characters. Euellula originally appeared later but I thought that her entrance would make a good start to the whole story. Apart from the usual critiques and comments I'm interested in what people think about the use of 'we' referring to me and the reader. It seems a bit Victorian but I've done it a lot in the rest of the story and it sort of feels right to me.

EUELLULA

We'll start the story here; it seems the right place, although the story so far of the woman fleeing through Duke Howath's chase, would fill many books.


We find her dressed in an outrageous confection; part southern belle, part gypsy queen, part Marie Antoinette; not ideal for sprinting through acres of mature oak, chestnut and beech. The chase is well managed; the undergrowth and deadfalls have been cleared to make hunting swifter and safer, hence Euellula's flight is difficult but possible.


Think of Cinderella running from the ball, but with no pumpkin coach waiting, only the starlit midnight forest and the hope of escape, fleeing a prince charming who has turned into the Beast. Our heroine would be elated if her elaborate gown had turned into rags at midnight, but it didn't, it billows around her, it catches on thorns, it trips her up, and she cannot fill her corseted lungs with much-needed air. With one hand she must hold up the layers of petticoats and with the other she grasps a carved wooden case containing her map and some keys. She thanks the Weave that she has managed to recover them. They have slowed her down but that is a small sacrifice.


As we join her she is cursing the world and herself.


'Damn this stupid backwater thread, damn my crazy urge to jump, jump, jump. If I get out of this, I will settle, I will find a good person, I will keep house, I will plant trees and bake cakes. I swear by the Weave. Damn these skirts.'


If possible she would have torn the gaudy costume off but the dressers have strapped and laced and sewn her into it. Just a very expensive gift-wrapped package to be opened by the customer. But she will not be bought and sold. She is Euellula, she is legendary, songs have been written about her. She will not become the property of that ancient lizard of a man no matter how much he paid. 'Damn.' Why didn't she see through the Duke? He said he didn't believe in slavery, and she thought, what a splendid creature in such a sordid world, so enlightened. What he really believed was that you should look after your own property, treat it well and not steal that of other people. How could she, Euellula, Euellula who dances the threads, 'Damn. Damn.' Euellula who can stroll into other worlds as others walk in and out of rooms, how could she be taken in by such a charlatan? With all her years, all her experience she still manages to fall for complete mealy-mouthed, false-faced, double-crossing, execrable, irredeemable, foul, depraved maggots. 'Damn.'


This is her last chance, they have dogs now, their muffled baying carries through the woods from two points of the compass. Two locked doors have not yielded to her skills. She is sure the next will open. It has to. As a last resort she could initiate a rent but, even if she got through alive, she could end up anywhere, an acceptable risk though, far preferable to being a captured fugitive in this world. Here, women are not meant to rebel. If they do, they are faulty goods that are to be repaired dismantled or destroyed.




Out of the trees, up the mountainside, they can see her easily now, golds and pinks and blues against the limestone scarp, and the noise, those stupid bells, she hasn't managed to pull them all off. There it is. Heart hammering to get out of the tight bodice, throat burning, legs a quiver, tripping over the torn petticoats. It smells right, it looks right. Yes, it unlocks. A membrane, a tough one. Push.


Cold. Still cold after the ice has left her bones. Hard ground, more bruises.


Who is this?


What a noble looking soul, what lovely eyes.


What is he doing in such a vile place?


That smell!


New world. Come on Euellula, you know the procedure. Observe. Deduce.

 

[zaelyel]

We find her dressed in an outrageous confection; part southern belle, part gypsy queen, part Marie Antoinette; not ideal for sprinting through acres of mature oak, chestnut and beech. The chase is well managed; the undergrowth and deadfalls have been cleared to make hunting swifter and safer, hence Euellula's flight is difficult but possible.


Think of Cinderella running from the ball, but with no pumpkin coach waiting, only the starlit midnight forest and the hope of escape, fleeing a prince charming who has turned into the Beast. Our heroine would be elated if her elaborate gown had turned into rags at midnight, but it didn't, it billows around her, it catches on thorns, it trips her up, and she cannot fill her corseted lungs with much-needed air. With one hand she must hold up the layers of petticoats and with the other she grasps a carved wooden case containing her map and some keys. She thanks the Weave that she has managed to recover them. They have slowed her down but that is a small sacrifice.

Haven't the 'undergrowth and deadfalls' been 'cleared'?

'Damn.' Why didn't she see through the Duke? He said he didn't believe in slavery, and she thought, what a splendid creature in such a sordid world, so enlightened. What he really believed was that you should look after your own property, treat it well and not steal that of other people. How could she, Euellula, Euellula who dances the threads(question mark somewhere in this line), 'Damn. Damn.' Euellula who can stroll into other worlds as others walk in and out of rooms, how could she be taken in by such a charlatan? With all her years, all her experience she still manages to fall for complete mealy-mouthed, false-faced, double-crossing, execrable, irredeemable, foul, depraved maggots. 'Damn.'

I would make this bit another paragraph as they are her own thoughts.

Out of the trees, up the mountainside, they can see her easily now, golds and pinks and blues against the limestone scarp, and the noise, those stupid bells, she hasn't managed to pull them all off.

Again make this a separate paragraph. It gets confusing with her thoughts coming right after.
I just realised that this bit is also her thinking? It sounded like the thoughts of someone seeing her.


The 'we' totally worked for me.

 

[HareBrain]

The "we" works for me too - so far. But I'm not sure how much more of it I would accept without it becoming clear that you're doing it for a good reason, such as bringing the narrator into play to affect the story. It sounds from your introduction that you're just doing it just because it "feels right", but I'm not sure that would be enough to sustain it for a whole novel, unless you tone it right down for long stretches.

 

[ventanamist]

Thanks HareBrain, you're right. A great deal of the story wrestles with the nature of reality and conciousness. Is entering a story the same as entering another existence? Is the author god-creator or just a guide? So the 'we' is relevant.
I introduce later another character where I make shameless and extravagant use of the 'we', even a bit of 'you' referring to the reader. I feel a bit better about posting it now, and will soon. Thanks for advice on paragraphs zaelyel. I need to make it clear when she is thinking without killing the pace.

 

[chrispenycate]

EUELLULA

We'll start the story here; it seems the right place, although the story so far of the woman fleeing through Duke Howath's chase,

no comma

would fill many books.


We find her dressed in an outrageous confection; part southern belle, part gypsy queen, part Marie Antoinette; not ideal for sprinting through acres of mature oak, chestnut and beech.

sequential semicolons

The chase is well managed; the undergrowth and deadfalls have been cleared to make hunting swifter and safer, hence Euellula's flight is difficult but possible.

Think of Cinderella running from the ball, but with no pumpkin coach waiting, only the starlit midnight forest and the hope of escape, fleeing a prince charming who has turned into the Beast. Our heroine would be elated if her elaborate gown had turned into rags at midnight, but it didn't,

hadn't? And that is a sentence break, so at least a semicolon.

it billows around her, it catches on thorns, it trips her up, and she cannot fill her corseted lungs with much-needed air. With one hand she must hold up the layers of petticoats and with the other she grasps a carved wooden case containing her map and some keys. She thanks the Weave that she has managed to recover them. They have slowed her down but that is a small sacrifice.


As we join her she is cursing the world and herself.

'Damn this stupid backwater thread, damn my crazy urge to jump, jump, jump. If I get out of this, I will settle, I will find a good person, I will keep house, I will plant trees and bake cakes. I swear by the Weave. Damn these skirts.'

If possible she would have torn the gaudy costume off but the dressers have strapped and laced and sewn her into it. Just a very expensive gift-wrapped package to be opened by the customer. But she will not be bought and sold. She is Euellula, she is legendary, songs have been written about her. She will not become the property of that ancient lizard of a man no matter how much he paid. 'Damn.' Why didn't she see through the Duke? He said he didn't believe in slavery, and she thought, what a splendid creature in such a sordid world,

possibly pluperfect "had said" and "had thought"?

so enlightened. What he really believed was that you should look after your own property, treat it well and not steal that of other people. How could she, Euellula, Euellula who dances the threads, 'Damn. Damn.' Euellula who can stroll into other worlds as others walk in and out of rooms, how could she be taken in by such a charlatan? With all her years, all her experience she still manages to fall for complete

is that not "completely"? (referring to the adjectives rather than the maggots)

mealy-mouthed, false-faced, double-crossing, execrable, irredeemable, foul, depraved maggots. 'Damn.'

This is her last chance, they have dogs now, their muffled baying carries through the woods from two points of the compass.

this is three complete sentences. You could make the comma after "chance" a semicolon, and change "carries" to "carrying", or make the first comma a full stop, and the second a semicolon (or tell me to leave it alone, that this frantic, panting rhythm is what you were aiming for, not conventional usage)

Two locked doors have not yielded to her skills. She is sure the next will open. It has to. As a last resort she could initiate a rent but, even if she got through alive, she could end up anywhere,

concept break

an acceptable risk though, far preferable to being a captured fugitive in this world. Here, women are not meant to rebel. If they do, they are faulty goods that are to be repaired

comma

dismantled or destroyed.


Out of the trees, up the mountainside,

semicolon

they can see her easily now, golds and pinks and blues against the limestone scarp, and the noise, those stupid bells, she hasn't managed to pull them all off. There it is. Heart hammering to get out of the tight bodice, throat burning, legs a quiver,

"aquiver" in one word?

tripping over the torn petticoats. It smells right, it looks right. Yes, it unlocks. A membrane, a tough one. Push.

Cold. Still cold after the ice has left her bones. Hard ground, more bruises.

Who is this?


What a noble looking soul, what lovely eyes.

What is he doing in such a vile place?

That smell!

New world. Come on Euellula, you know the procedure. Observe. Deduce.

 

[The Pelagic Argosy]

The imagery is wonderful in this. The "we" works for me too, at least in this brief passage. It gives the funky sensation that "we," the readers, are also pursuing her. The problem with using an unusual POV is that it will always draw attention to itself - and away from the characters/action. That could get annoying and tricky in a novel-length work. But so far, you're handling it deftly enough.

Minor quibbles.

We'll start the story here; it seems the right place, although the story so far of the woman fleeing through Duke Howath's chase, would fill many books.


We find her dressed in an outrageous confection; part southern belle, part gypsy queen, part Marie Antoinette; not ideal for sprinting through acres of mature oak, chestnut and beech. The chase is well managed; the undergrowth and deadfalls have been cleared to make hunting swifter and safer, hence Euellula's flight is difficult but possible.

"We'll start the story here. It seems the right place, although the story of the woman fleeing through Duke Howath's chase would fill many books.

"We find her dressed in an outrageous confection: part southern belle, part gypsy queen, part Marie Antoinette. Not ideal for sprinting through acres of mature oak, chestnut and beech. The chase is well managed; the undergrowth and deadfalls have been cleared to make hunting swifter and safer. Hence Euellula's flight is difficult but possible."

Try some exclamation points too!

"Damn this stupid backwater thread, damn my crazy urge to jump, jump, jump!...Damn these skirts!"

Also, I would like the smell mentioned at the end briefly described.

 

[ventanamist]

Thank you TPA. Your comments have been heartening and helpful; I've taken them all on board. Its so nice to find a whole worldwide community that loves and cares about this stuff.

Exclamation marks! It's a tough one. I have been trying to use them less and less. It's a bit like shouting and swearing; the less you do it, the more effective it is. My current feeling is that if something is obviously an exclamation, it is not necessary. I think that in that jump jump paragraph an exclamation mark slows down the pace.

Just looked at it again. Just realised that I have only put in one exclamation mark. I see what you mean. Hmm

Thanks chris. I appreciate your clarity and thoroughness I have been swotting up on my punctuation rules. There should be less red next time.

I am just about to post the introduction to another character in the same story (no title yet)