TFR - Chapter Fourteen - critique welcomed.

[Gary Compton]

Here's chapter 14, I've been re-writing my whole book in 1st person.

I prefer that way of writing. I have 3 different 1st person POV's in the book and here's one of them.

Inspector Freddy Bartlett has just been arrived at a murder scene, the day before there were 10 seperate murders and a suicide bombing in the capital that claimed 15 lives.

Were they connected?


Doctor Adrian Dempsey walked toward me, ‘Good morning Inspector,’ he said in his inimitable gravely voice.

‘Morning Doctor, I haven’t seen you for a while. How are you keeping?’ I enquired.

‘Sorry to spoil your day but we have a particularly gruesome murder scene in there - to put it politely, it’s a mess.’


That’s all I needed was blood and guts everywhere, even after all these years the sight of it turned my stomach. Dempsey looked at me over his gold rimmed spectacles that accentuated his bearded round face. He was a little man in height but he had a huge belly that started just below his chin and ended at his waist. He made Harper look like Twiggy but I’d known him a long time and he was a nice guy, and more importantly, a brilliant pathologist.


‘Thanks Doctor, is it okay to go in?’

‘Yes Inspector – but can you and the Sergeant suit up first, I don’t want you contaminating my scene,’ he said firmly.

‘Of course Doctor, I wouldn’t expect it any other way.’

I didn’t have to be reminded about procedure. Me and Harper slipped into our white suits and made our way up the stairs to the second floor flat. SOCO officers were photographing the scene, dusting for fingerprints and carefully bagging any potential evidence.


The victim was tied to a chair and his shirt had been ripped of. I was drawn straight away to wounds on his chest. The killer had carved a swastika into his flesh. From the amount of blood around him it would’ve had to of been done while he was still alive.


I looked at Harper, ‘What the hell have we got here?’

He stared back blankly. The brutality was the worst I’d ever seen and by the look on Harper’s face, him as well.

Dempsey walked in, ‘What did he die of Adrian. Do you know yet?’

‘I don’t Inspector,’ he said shaking his head. ‘But rest assured when I know, so will you.’

I walked around the body, there were some words written on the floor in chalk. I tried to say them ‘Nacht der Langen Messer…’

I said them again but I’m no linguist. ‘Do you know what that means Doctor?’


‘If I’m not mistaken it means night of the long knives, take that in conjunction with the swastika and I think it could be referring to when Hitler took out all of his enemies in a surgical strike by his beloved SS.’

‘Yeah, I’ve heard of that on Discovery or something. What relevance does it have here?’

‘I only provide the evidence,’ Dempsey said. ‘It’s up to you to interpret it Inspector.’


I looked at Harper and rolled my eyes. Dempsey was right but I hadn’t got a fu****g clue what it meant. One thing though this poor sod must’ve suffered terribly while they butchered him. I need to get this sicko before he does anymore killing.


The flat was a mess. The murderer were clearly looking for something but for what? Once full bookcases lay broken and battered on the floor, their contents strewn all over. I picked up a book that lay at my feet and stared at the cover “My Family and Auschwitz,” was its name. WW11 related no doubt, it was a little dusty so I blew on it and opened it up.


On the inside cover there was a photo of the author. I compared it to the victim, it was hard to tell with all the blood and swelling but I think it was him.

‘I think we have the victim’s name Rick,’ I handed Harper the book who studied the picture.

‘Yes that’s him,’ he said matter of factly.


I walked around the living room and ran my hand across the top of the sideboard. Putting the mess caused by the killers to one side for a moment the flat was still fairly dusty, I don’t think this guy had a woman in his life or if he did she wasn’t much use at housekeeping. One thing though, he must have a few quid as the place was fairly opulent even though it was untidy. It looked like a Turner on the wall but I could be wrong. The ornaments and décor looked fairly expensive and judging the amount of books he’s written he must have a few quid, or should I say had.


‘There’s not much we can do here, let’s go back to the Yard and get the investigation kicked off,’ I told Harper who was still studying the book.


‘Okay Guv, I’ll just bag this up,’ he said, slipping the book into an evidence pouch. We headed downstairs, slipped out of the contamination suits and headed for the car.

On the journey back, Harper drove. I couldn’t get the victims face out of my mind. My gut instinct was telling me, this is going to be a complex investigation.


Back at the ranch Harper got the team together. I was still shocked at seeing the state of the victim – whoever had done that had enjoyed it. Grimesy walked in with a tray of coffee and egg Mcmuffins.

Robert Macdonald did for us cops what Gordon Ramsay does for the toffs, anyway it wasn’t long before the tray was empty.


Yesterday had been a busy day for murder. In the capital alone there were twenty five deaths including the fifteen Bond Street victims. At the moment there were no connections it was just a coincidence that they all happened on the same day.

Trouble is I don’t believe in coincidences.

I was feeling nervous, that was normal for me at the start of a new case, the only antidote I knew was to get stuck in.

I looked around everybody, Harper finished of his sandwich while everybody else stared at me expectantly.


‘Okay everybody listen up, It would appear that there were eleven separate incidents yesterday. I’m working with the top brass to find away of pulling these into some sort of order. At the moment they’re all unconnected but we’ll reserve judgement on that for and we’ll concentrate on our man at Charing Road. The anti terrorist squad are dealing with the bombing and ten other enquiries have been started but we may have to expand our enquiry depending on what’s found. I’ve just come from a particularly gruesome murder scene.’

I stuck a couple of pictures on the clear perspex evidence wall which caused some officers to gasp in disbelief which was unusual considering some of the cases we’ve investigated.

 

[RoninJedi84]

On the whole I enjoyed it. Aside from a few grammatical errors (i.e. "I hadn't got a f*****g clue" should be "didn't have" as this is obviously past-tense), there was nothing that really jumped out at me as feeling wrong.

One thing I would add is that, while I was interested in the scene of the crime, that interest wasn't really satisfied. Instead of shock or any visceral reaction from being in the place of such a grisly event, it just kind of felt like another day at the office. Maybe a few more sentences where the assault on the senses that the scene has on the character are described would have pulled me in more and gotten me into the mood. Overall, though, none too shabby.

That was my first impression after reading. Hope you find it helpful!

 

[Damiynn]

Well here we go, I am not going to correct grammar but I will take a look at the writing

Doctor Adrian Dempsey walked toward me, ‘Good morning Inspector,’ he said in his inimitable gravely voice.

‘Morning Doctor, I haven’t seen you for a while. How are you keeping?’ I enquired.

‘Sorry to spoil your day but we have a particularly gruesome murder scene in there - to put it politely, it’s a mess.’


That’s all I needed was blood and guts everywhere, even after all these years the sight of it(still) turned my stomach. Dempsey looked at me over his gold rimmed spectacles that accentuated his bearded round face. He was a little man in height but he had a huge belly that started just below his chin and ended at his waist. He made Harper look like Twiggy but I’d known him a long time (and) could just replace this and with a , he was a nice guy, and more importantly, a brilliant pathologist.


‘Thanks Doctor, is it okay to go in?’

‘Yes Inspector – but can you and the Sergeant suit up first, I don’t want you contaminating my scene,’ he said firmly.

‘Of course Doctor, I wouldn’t expect it any other way.’

I didn’t have to be reminded about procedure. Me and Harper slipped into our white suits and made our way up the stairs to the second floor flat. SOCO officers were photographing the scene, dusting for fingerprints and carefully bagging any potential evidence.


The victim was tied to a chair and his shirt had been ripped of(f). I was drawn straight away to wounds on his chest. The killer had carved a swastika into his flesh. From the amount of blood (around him) could leave that out since we know its him it would’ve had to of been done while he was still alive.


I looked at Harper, ‘What the hell have we got here?’

He stared back blankly. The brutality was the worst I’d ever seen and by the look on Harper’s face, him as well.

Dempsey walked in, ‘What did he die of Adrian. Do you know yet?’

‘I don’t Inspector,’ he said shaking his head. ‘But rest assured when I know, so will you.’

I walked around the body, (this is first person so I would leave out there were some... and just put- and saw)there were some words written on the floor in chalk. (I tried to say them )I would leave out the I tried to say them, its not pertinent, you just mentioned them, (ex there were some words written on the floor in chalk, ‘Nacht der Langen Messer…’

I said them again but I’m no linguist.)again you could leave this out and go straight to the dialogue ‘Do you know what that means Doctor?’


‘If I’m not mistaken it means night of the long knives, take that in conjunction with the swastika and I think it could be referring to when Hitler took out all of his enemies in a surgical strike by his beloved SS.’

‘Yeah, I’ve heard of that on Discovery or something. What relevance does it have here?’

‘I only provide the evidence,’ Dempsey said(answered). ‘It’s up to you to interpret it Inspector.’


I looked at Harper and rolled my eyes. Dempsey was right but I hadn’t got a fu****g clue what it meant. (try but I didn't have ... One thing though this poor sod must’ve suffered terribly while they butchered him. I nee(ed) to get this sicko before he does anymore killing.


The flat was a mess. The murderer were clearly looking for something but for what? Once(One) (full) we don't need to know its full you mentions its contents in this line too bookcases lay broken and battered on the floor, their(its) use that cause it is not a person, contents strewn all over. I picked up a book that lay(lying) at my feet and stared at the cover “My Family and Auschwitz,” was its name(you just mentioned its title, you don't need to say that was its name. WW11 related no doubt, it was a little dusty so I blew on it and opened it up. (this sentence seems clunky)


On the inside cover (there) again we know its there, cover was is fine was a photo of the author. I compared it to the victim, it was hard to tell with all the blood and swelling but I think(thought) it was him.

‘I think we have the victim’s name Rick,’ I handed Harper the book who studied the picture.

‘Yes that’s him,’ he said matter of factly.


I walked around the living room and ran my hand across the top of the sideboard. Putting the mess caused by the killers to one side for a moment the flat was still fairly dusty, I don’t think this guy had a woman in his life or if he did she wasn’t much use at housekeeping. One thing though, he must have (had) he is dead so its past tense here a few quid as the place was(is) cause they are there fairly opulent even though it was untidy. It looked like a Turner on the wall but I could be wrong. The ornaments and décor looked fairly expensive and judging the amount of books he’s written he must have a few quid, or should I say had.


‘There’s not much we can do here, let’s go back to the Yard and get the investigation kicked off,’ I told Harper who was still studying the book.


‘Okay Guv, I’ll just bag this up,’ he said, slipping the book into an evidence pouch. We headed downstairs, slipped out of the contamination suits and headed for the car.

On the journey back, Harper drove. I couldn’t get the victims face out of my mind. My gut instinct was telling me, this is going to be a complex investigation.


Back at the ranch Harper got the team together. I was still shocked at seeing the state of the victim – whoever had done that had enjoyed it. Grimesy walked in with a tray of coffee and egg Mcmuffins.

Robert Macdonald did for us cops what Gordon Ramsay does for the toffs, anyway it wasn’t long before the tray was empty.


Yesterday had been a busy day for murder. In the capital alone there were twenty five deaths including the fifteen Bond Street victims. At the moment there were no connections it was just a coincidence that they all happened on the same day.

Trouble is I don’t believe in coincidences.

I was feeling nervous, that was normal for me at the start of a new case, the only antidote I knew was to get stuck in.

I looked around everybody, Harper finished of his sandwich while everybody else stared at me expectantly.


‘Okay everybody listen up, It would appear that there were eleven separate incidents yesterday. I’m working with the top brass to find away(a way) of pulling these into some sort of order. At the moment they’re all unconnected but we’ll reserve judgement on that for and we’ll concentrate on our man at Charing Road. The anti terrorist squad are dealing with the bombing and ten other enquiries have been started but we may have to expand our enquiry depending on what’s found. I’ve just come from a particularly gruesome murder scene.’

I stuck a couple of pictures on the clear perspex evidence wall which caused some officers to gasp in disbelief which was unusual considering some of the cases we’ve investigated.

Take a look at what I mentioned, its a good piece but I think it is lacking a few things, maybe some more detail on the blood and mess in the room, for something that is mentioned as being very bad, there is little description besides just the body, maybe add some blood splatter, head lolling, a pool of blood, some blood drenched bonds,,, see what I mean

 

[chrispenycate]

[/quote]

Here's chapter 14, I've been re-writing my whole book in 1st person.

I prefer that way of writing. I have 3 different 1st person POV's in the book and here's one of them.

Inspector Freddy Bartlett has just been arrived at a murder scene, the day before there were 10 seperate murders and a suicide bombing in the capital that claimed 15 lives.

Were they connected?


Doctor Adrian Dempsey walked toward me,

Full stop

‘Good morning Inspector,’ he said in his inimitable gravely voice.

‘Morning Doctor, I haven’t seen you for a while. How are you keeping?’ I enquired.

‘Sorry to spoil your day but we have a particularly gruesome murder scene in there - to put it politely, it’s a mess.’


That’s all I needed was blood and guts everywhere,

semicolon

even after all these years the sight of it turned my stomach. Dempsey looked at me over his gold rimmed spectacles that accentuated his bearded round face. He was a little man in height but he had a huge belly that started just below his chin and ended at his waist. He made Harper look like Twiggy

comma

but I’d known him a long time and he was a nice guy, and more importantly, a brilliant pathologist.


‘Thanks Doctor,

St least semicolon – more likely full stop.

is it okay to go in?’

‘Yes Inspector – but can you and the Sergeant suit up first, I don’t want you contaminating my scene,’ he said firmly.

‘Of course Doctor, I wouldn’t expect it any other way.’

I didn’t have to be reminded about procedure. Me and Harper slipped into our white suits and made our way up the stairs to the second floor flat. SOCO officers were photographing the scene, dusting for fingerprints and carefully bagging any potential evidence.


The victim was tied to a chair and his shirt had been ripped of

off

. I was drawn straight away to wounds on his chest. The killer had carved a swastika into his flesh. From the amount of blood around him it would’ve had to of

have

been done while he was still alive.


I looked at Harper, ‘What the hell have we got here?’

He stared back blankly. The brutality was the worst I’d ever seen and by the look on Harper’s face, him as well.

Dempsey walked in, ‘What did he die of Adrian. Do you know yet?’

‘I don’t Inspector,’ he saidshaking his head. ‘But rest assured

comma

when I know, so will you.’

I walked around the body,

semicolon

there were some words written on the floor in chalk. I tried to say them ‘Nacht der Langen Messer…’

I said them again but I’m no linguist. ‘Do you know what that means Doctor?’


‘If I’m not mistaken it means night of the long knives,

semicolon

take that in conjunction with the swastika and I think it could be referring to when Hitler took out all of his enemies in a surgical strike by his beloved SS.’

‘Yeah, I’ve heard of that on Discovery or something. What relevance does it have here?’

‘I only provide the evidence,’ Dempsey said. ‘It’s up to you to interpret it Inspector.’


I looked at Harper and rolled my eyes. Dempsey was right

[color=redcomma[/color]

but I hadn’t got a fu****g clue what it meant. One thing though

semicolon

this poor sod must’ve suffered terribly while they butchered him. I need to get this sicko before he does anymore killing.


The flat was a mess. were

unless plural murderers, was. But I'd suggest "The murderer had clearly been looking“

clearly looking for something but for what? Once full bookcases lay broken and battered on the floor, their contents strewn all over. I picked up a book that lay at my feet and stared at the cover

<full stop.

“My Family and Auschwitz,” was its name. WW11 related no doubt, it was a little dusty so I blew on it and opened it up.


On the inside cover there was a photo of the author. I compared it to the victim,

semicolon

it was hard to tell with all the blood and swelling but I think it was him.

‘I think we have the victim’s name

comma

Rick,’

It wasn't the book that studied the picture. Perhaps: "I handed the book to Harper, who studied the picture."

‘Yes

comma

that’s him,’ he said matter of factly.


I walked around the living room and ran my hand across the top of the sideboard. Putting the mess caused by the killers to one side for a moment the flat was still fairly dusty,

semicolon

I don’t think this guy had a woman in his life or

if he didshe wasn’t much use at housekeeping. One thing though, he must have a few quid as the place was fairly opulent even though it was untidy. It looked like a Turner on the wall but I could be wrong. The ornaments and décor looked fairly expensive and judging the amount of books he’s writtencomma; and, books being individual objects rather than weight, pehaps "number" rather than "amount"?

he must have a few quid, or should I say had.


‘There’s not much we can do here,

semicolon

let’s go back to the Yard and get the investigation kicked off,’ I told Harper who was still studying the book.


‘Okay Guv, I’ll just bag this up,’ he said, slipping the book into an evidence pouch. We headed downstairs, slipped out of the contamination suits and headed for the car.

On the journey back, Harper drove. I couldn’t get the

victim's

face out of my mind. My gut instinct was telling me, this is going to be a complex investigation.


Back at the ranch Harper got the team together. I was still shocked at seeing the state of the victim – whoever had done that had enjoyed it. Grimesy walked in with a tray of coffee and egg Mcmuffins.

Robert Macdonald did for us cops what Gordon Ramsay does for the toffs,

semicolon

anyway it wasn’t long before the tray was empty.


Yesterday had been a busy day for murder. In the capital alone there were twenty five deaths

comma

including the fifteen Bond Street victims. At the moment there were no connections

comma

it was just a coincidence that they all happened on the same day.

Trouble is I don’t believe in coincidences.

I was feeling nervous, that was normal for me at the start of a new case, the only antidote I knew was to get stuck in.

three sentences

I looked around everybody,

At least a semicolon here, probably a full stop, but I'd like to remove the repetition of "everybody", too
; which indicatea a mild rewrite.

Harper finished of

off

his sandwich while everybody else stared at me expectantly.


‘Okay everybody listen up,

Full stop

It would appear that there were eleven separate incidents yesterday. I’m working with the top brass to find away of pulling these into some sort of order. At the moment they’re all unconnected but we’ll reserve judgement on that for

for what? The present?

and we’ll concentrate on our man at Charing Road. The anti terrorist squad are dealing with the bombing and ten other enquiries have been started but we may have to expand our enquiry depending on what’s found. I’ve just come from a particularly gruesome murder scene.’

I stuck a couple of pictures on the clear perspex evidence wall which caused some officers to gasp in disbelief which was unusual considering some of the cases we’ve investigated.

very messy last sentence, firstly in making the evidence wall rather than the pictures cause gasps, and secondly because the lack of punctuation makes the sequence of concepts difficult to follow.

 

[ctg]

I would want to echo Ronin's words as in you clearly are doing better prose in the first person, but you are forgetting that a large part of the audience needs visuals rather than getting a distinctive feeling from same mundane things they see all day, everyday. Seriously, they need escapism. Similar kind of escapism that Dan Brown crafts in his books. Believe me. If you don't and I suspect you don't, then go and ask from them do they get easy visual from your prose, or is the same old song?

If its the same old song, then you know that the same thing you were lacking in the close 3rd person prose is lacking from here, but then again, that's easy thing to fix. Believe me. And you start by fixing this scene by giving us the gruesome visuals on what happened. Just don't go over it. Blood spatters on the walls, brain matter hanging from the arm chair, guts draping off from the chandelier is enough. In this case you need to add those visuals in the first person narrative, where your inspector looks the sings and add one to another.

So make it easy for the reader.

However, before I go, we have difficulty here where we don't know if you have provided enough of visual glues in the earlier chapters on what happened, and if you have then maybe your prose is perfectly in place with you have been thinking. Therefore, it is you that need to decide if what we say is true or not.

If it's true, then you know what to do better.

 

[Gary Compton]

Thanks for your comments Ladies and Gentlemen. I've expanded the murder scene descriptions and taken into account the grammar errors (I'm still rubbish at this even after private tuition!!)

I hope it reads better

Doctor Adrian Dempsey walked toward me.


‘Good morning Inspector,’ he said in his inimitable gravely voice.


‘Morning Doctor, I haven’t seen you for a while. How are you keeping?’ I enquired.


‘Sorry to spoil your day but we have a particularly gruesome murder scene in there - to put it politely, it’s a mess.’


That’s all I needed was blood and guts everywhere. Even after all these years the sight of it turned my stomach. Dempsey looked at me over his gold rimmed spectacles that accentuated his bearded round face. He was a little man in height but he had a huge belly that started just below his chin and ended at his waist. He made Harper look like Twiggy, I’d known him a long time and he was a nice guy, and more importantly, a brilliant pathologist and he always came up trumps.


‘Thanks Doctor. Is it okay to go in?’


‘Yes Inspector – but can you and the Sergeant suit up first, I don’t want you contaminating my scene,’ he said firmly.


‘Of course Doctor, I wouldn’t expect it any other way.’ I didn’t have to be reminded about procedure. Me and Harper slipped into our white suits and made our way up the stairs to the second floor flat. SOCO officers were photographing the scene, dusting for fingerprints and carefully bagging any potential evidence.


I wasn’t really expecting what I saw. I was quite taken aback to be honest. Not the normal murder scene if there is such a thing. The victim was tied to a chair and his shirt had been ripped off. A large amount of blood had spread around on the floor.


A swastika had been carefully carved into his chest; you could see his ribs peaking through in places. Blood had spattered on the wall and furniture; they must have been done it while he was alive – sick bastards.


Rigor mortis had set in, so he’d been dead four or five hours. Dempsey would confirm this no doubt. His knuckles were white, he’d gripped the chair with such force while they butchered him that his hands had clung to the arms after death.


I lifted his head which rested on his chest; the killer had stabbed him in the eyes. Trails of blood had ran down his face which was contorted in his final terrifying look. I got the fright of my life - this poor man.


I looked at Harper who held his hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop himself puking. On the victims wrists and ankles, the chains had cut into his flesh while he’d struggled to escape this torture. His trousers were sodden with congealing blood and the stench of death was overpowering. I coughed; I could taste the vileness of this murder.


‘What the hell have we got here then?’ I asked Harper.


Why I was asking him I don’t know, the brutality was the worst I’d ever seen. He shrugged his shoulders, like me, he had no answers.


Dempsey walked in, ‘What did he die of Adrian. Do you know yet?’


‘I don’t Inspector,’ he said shaking his head. ‘But rest assured when I know, so will you.’


I walked around the body and saw some writing in chalk on the floor. I studied the message; the words were definitely not English.


I tried saying them ‘Nacht der Langen Messer…’ Harper looked at me if I was speaking Klingon or something. I repeated them again but he shook his head.


‘Do you know what that means Doctor?’ I said pointing to the mystery words.


‘If I’m not mistaken it means night of the long knives, take that with the swastika and I think it could be referring to when Hitler’s SS took out all of his enemies in one hit.’


‘Yeah, I’ve heard of that on Discovery or something. What relevance does it have here?’


‘I only provide the evidence,’ Dempsey answered. ‘It’s up to you to interpret it Inspector.’


I looked at Harper and rolled my eyes and shrugged my shoulders.


Dempsey was right; I didn’t got a f*****g clue what it meant. One thing though this poor sod must’ve suffered terribly while they butchered him. I need to get this sicko before he does anymore killing.


I looked around the flat, it was a mess. They were clearly looking for something but for what? Bookcases lay broken and battered on the floor, there contents strewn all over the floor. I picked up a book that lay at my feet and stared at the cover.“My Family and Auschwitz,” No doubt WW11 related. I blew the dust off the book and opened it.


On the cover there was a photo of the author. I compared it to the victim; it was hard to tell with all the blood and swelling but it looked like him.


‘I think we have the victim’s name, Rick,’ I passed Harper the book. It didn’t take him long to make his mind up.


‘Yes that’s him,’ he said matter of factly.


I ran my hand across the top of the sideboard. Even allowing for the mess caused by the killers; the flat was still fairly dusty. I don’t think this guy had a woman in his life or if he did she wasn’t much use at housekeeping. One thing though, the place was fairly opulent even though it was untidy. It looked like a Turner on the wall but I could be wrong. The ornaments and décor looked expensive so he must have a few quid, or should I say had.


‘There’s not much we can do here; let’s go back to the Yard and get the investigation kicked off,’ I told Harper who was still flicking through the book.


‘Okay Guv, I’ll just bag this up,’ he said, slipping the book into an evidence pouch. We headed downstairs, slipped out of the contamination suits and headed for the car. On the journey back, Harper drove. I couldn’t get the victim’s face out of my mind. My gut instinct was telling me, this is going to be a complex investigation.


Back at the ranch Harper got the team together. I was still shocked at seeing the state of the victim – whoever had done that had enjoyed it. Grimesy walked in with a tray of coffee and egg Mcmuffins. Robert Macdonald did for us cops what Gordon Ramsay does for the toffs. Anyway it wasn’t long before the tray was empty.


Yesterday had been a busy day for murder. In the capital alone there were twenty five deaths including the fifteen Bond Street victims. At the moment there were no connections it was just a coincidence that they all happened on the same day.


Trouble is I don’t believe in coincidences.


I was feeling nervous. That was normal for me at the start of a new case. The only antidote I knew was to get stuck in.


I looked around everybody. Harper finished off his sandwich while the rest of the squad stared at me expectantly.



‘Okay everybody listen up. It would appear that there were eleven separate incidents of a murder yesterday. I’m working with the top brass to find a way of pulling these into some sort of order. At the moment they’re all unconnected but we’ll reserve judgement on that for the moment and we’ll concentrate on our man at Charing Road. The anti terrorist squad are dealing with the bombing and ten other enquiries have been started but we may have to expand our enquiry depending on what’s found. I’ve just come from a particularly gruesome murder scene.’ I stuck a couple of pictures on the clear perspex evidence wall. Some officers gasped at sight of the victims wounds.

 

[ctg]

The beginning works up to the end of the description at the crime scene, then you start having pacing problems when I as a reader expect to see fast dialogue exchanged between the participants.

I looked at Harper who held his hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop himself puking. On the victims wrists and ankles, the chains had cut into his flesh while he’d struggled to escape this torture. His trousers were sodden with congealing blood and the stench of death was overpowering. I coughed; I could taste the vileness of this murder.

At here you need to start speeding up the pacing to show that the inspector isn't dimwitted. You could also try to mix up thoughts and suspicions into the character voice to really reel us in to this character. Like for example in this way.

I looked Harper holding a hand over his mouth, looking green. Poor *******. But then again I could've say same thing to our victim, whom had been chained to the floor. ...

‘What the hell have we got here then?’ I asked Harper.


Why I was asking him I don’t know, the brutality was the worst I’d ever seen. He shrugged his shoulders, like me, he had no answers.

My attention was snapped away from the story first time.


"What the hell..."

Harper shrugged his shoulders. Like me he had no answers. The brutality in this case was one worst one I'd ever seen.

Dempsey walked in, ‘What did he die of Adrian. Do you know yet?’

What do you mean with this? What is that you try to create here? Isn't it quite obvious what killed him?

‘I don’t Inspector,’ he said shaking his head. ‘But rest assured when I know, so will you.’

Has he been smoking something?

I walked around the body and saw some writing in chalk on the floor. I studied the message; the words were definitely not English.


I tried saying them ‘Nacht der Langen Messer…’ Harper looked at me if I was speaking Klingon or something. I repeated them again but he shook his head.

‘Do you know what that means Doctor?’ I said pointing to the mystery words.

At here, you need to really start to showing that he's eyes on his head.

Then I noticed it. The chalked up words covered in blood. They weren't English. That was sure. But I didn't need to be a brain surgeon to count one plus one as I read those words aloud, "Nacht der Langen Messer... Harper any ideas on what that means?"

There was a shrug. The same thing that I received from the doctor. Both of them were as clueless as I was.





So you see Mister Compton, you have learned to write in first person, but now what you need is to hone that character voice to give them a personality. It's easy to write mundane things, but at the end when the action comes into the play, the character feels a bit cardboard-y.

Go back to the writing and try to personalise his voice a bit more, please.

 

[Gary Compton]

Thanks CTG, without giving my secrets away. he didnt die of his wounds. Taking what you said about the murder scene into account; does this engage you better?

I wasn’t really expecting what I saw. I was quite taken aback to be honest. Not the normal murder scene if there is such a thing. The victim was tied to a chair and his shirt had been ripped off. A large amount of blood had spread around on the floor.


A swastika had been carefully carved into his chest; you could see his ribs peaking through in places. Blood had spattered on the wall; they must have been done it while he was alive – sick bastards.


Rigor mortis had set in, so he’d been dead four or five hours. Dempsey would confirm this no doubt. His knuckles were white; he’d gripped the chair with such force while they butchered him that his hands had clung to the arms after his death.


I lifted his head which rested on his chest; the killer had stabbed him in the eyes. Trails of blood had ran down his face which was contorted in his final terrifying look. I got the fright of my life - this poor man. I looked at Harper who held his hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop himself puking.


On the victim’s wrists and ankles, the chains had cut into his flesh. Congealing blood covered his trousers and the stench of death was overpowering. I coughed; I could taste the vileness of this murder.


‘Who in their right mind could do such a thing to another human being?’


‘Harper shrugged, ‘Beats me Guv.’


Dempsey walked into the room. ‘Apart from the obvious; have you confirmed his cause of death yet?’ I asked him.


‘Not yet,’ Dempsey said shaking his head. ‘It seems obvious but the frothing at the mouth has me confused.’


‘That’s not like you Doctor. Dempsey muttered something under his breath while I walked around the body. There was a message on the walnut floor, chalked up words spattered with blood, I tried saying them ‘Nacht der Langen Messer…’


Harper looked at me if I was speaking Klingon. I said them again, ‘Haven’t a f****ng clue Guv,’ he said shrugging his shoulders.


‘Do you know what that means Doctor?’ I said pointing to the mystery words.


Dempsey pursed his lips. ‘If I’m not mistaken it means night of the long knives.’


‘Yeah, I’ve heard of that on Discovery,’ I replied. ‘Isn’t it when Hitler took out all his enemies in a three day murder spree?’


‘That’s right Inspector.’


The flat was a mess; whoever did this was clearly looking for something but for what? Bookcases lay broken and battered on the floor, their contents strewn all over. I picked up a book that lay at my feet and stared at the cover.“My Family and Auschwitz,” I blew the dust off the book and opened it.

 

[chrispenycate]

[/quote]

Thanks for your comments Ladies and Gentlemen. I've expanded the murder scene descriptions and taken into account the grammar errors (I'm still rubbish at this even after private tuition!!)

I hope it reads better

Doctor Adrian Dempsey walked toward me.


‘Good morning Inspector,’ he said in his inimitable gravely voice.


‘Morning Doctor, I haven’t seen you for a while. How are you keeping?’ I enquired.


‘Sorry to spoil your day but we have a particularly gruesome murder scene in there - to put it politely, it’s a mess.’


That’s all I needed was blood and guts everywhere.

Either "That’s all I needed, blood and guts everywhere." or "All I needed was blood and guts everywhere".

Even after all these years the sight of it turned my stomach. Dempsey looked at me over his gold rimmed spectacles that accentuated his bearded round face. He was a little man in height

perhaps merely "a short man“? ¡ know I didn't say anything last time, but "little in height" seems a touch over wordy.

but he had a huge belly that started just below his chin and ended at his waist. He made Harper look like Twiggy,

You've removed the conjinction (but), which upgrades that comma to a Full stop.

I’d known him a long time and he was a nice guy, and more importantly, a brilliant pathologist and he always came up trumps.


‘Thanks Doctor. Is it okay to go in?’


‘Yes Inspector – but can you and the Sergeant suit up first, I don’t want you contaminating my scene,’ he said firmly.


‘Of course

comma

Doctor, I wouldn’t expect it any other way.’ I didn’t have to be reminded about procedure. Me and Harper

Harper and I; you are the subject of the sentence, and you wouldn't say "Me slipped into", would you?

slipped into our white suits and made our way up the stairs to the second floor flat. SOCO officers were photographing the scene, dusting for fingerprints and carefully bagging any potential evidence.


I wasn’t really expecting what I saw. I was quite taken aback to be honest. Not the normal murder scene if there is such a thing. The victim was tied to a chair and his shirt had been ripped off. A large amount of blood had spread around on the floor.


A swastika had been carefully carved into his chest; you could see his ribs peaking through in places. Blood had spattered on the wall and furniture; they must have been done it while he was alive – sick bastards.


Rigor mortis had set in, so he’d been dead four or five hours. Dempsey would confirm this no doubt. His knuckles were white,

semicolon

he’d gripped the chair with such force while they butchered him that his hands had clung to the arms after death.


I lifted his head which rested on his chest; the killer had stabbed him in the eyes. Trails of blood had ran down his face which was contorted in his final terrifying look. I got the fright of my life

I don't think it was "fright" that hit him.

- this poor man.


I looked at Harper who held his hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop himself puking. On the victims

victim's

wrists and ankles,

no comma

the chains had cut into his flesh while he’d struggled to escape this torture. His trousers were sodden with congealing blood

Question; if he'd been dead long enough for rigor mortis (four or five hours, by your previous paragraph) would the blood still be "congealing"? (unless, of course, he was, like me, on some anticoagulant.)

and the stench of death was overpowering. I coughed; I could taste the vileness of this murder.


‘What the hell have we got here then?’ I asked Harper.


Why I was asking him I don’t know,

At least a semicolon. But I don't actually see the correspondence between the two halves of the sentence

the brutality was the worst I’d ever seen. He shrugged his shoulders,

semicolon

like me, he had no answers.


Dempsey walked in, ‘What did he die of

comma

Adrian.

question mark

Do you know yet?’


‘I don’t Inspector,’ he said shaking his head. ‘But

comma

rest assured

comma

when I know, so will you.’


I walked around the body and saw some writing in chalk on the floor. I studied the message; the words were definitely not English.


I tried saying them ‘Nacht der Langen Messer…’ Harper looked at me if I was speaking Klingon or something. I repeated them again but he shook his head.


‘Do you know what that means Doctor?’ I said

comma

pointing to the mystery words.


‘If I’m not mistaken it means night of the long knives,

semicolon

take that with the swastika and I think it could be referring to when Hitler’s SS took out all of his enemies in one hit.’


‘Yeah, I’ve heard of that on Discovery or something. What relevance does it have here?’


‘I only provide the evidence,’ Dempsey answered. ‘It’s up to you to interpret it

comma

Inspector.’


I looked at Harper and rolled my eyes and shrugged my shoulders.


Dempsey was right; I didn’t got

didn't have

a f*****g clue what it meant. One thing though

comma (at least)

this poor sod must’ve suffered terribly while they butchered him. I need

You're in past tense everywhere until now; the only reason why this would be in present tense is if it were internal dialogue, thoughts. In which case I would suggest putting it in italics. Otherwise, "needed"

to get this sicko before he does anymore

two words

killing.


I looked around the flat,

semicolon

it was a mess. They were clearly looking for something but for what? Bookcases lay broken and battered on the floor, there

their

contents strewn all over the floor. I picked up a book that lay at my feet and stared at the cover.“My Family and Auschwitz,” No doubt WW11

WWII? the 11 suggests a rather longer sequence of hostilities.

related. I blew the dust off the book and opened it.


On the cover there was a photo of the author. I compared it to the victim; it was hard to tell with all the blood and swelling but it looked like him.


‘I think we have the victim’s name, Rick,’ I passed Harper the book. It didn’t take him long to make his mind up.


‘Yes that’s him,’ he said matter of factly.


I ran my hand across the top of the sideboard. Even allowing for the mess caused by the killers;

just a comma; yes, I know I did, but you've changed the structure of the sentence.

the flat was still fairly dusty. I don’t think this guy had a woman in his life or

comma

if he did

comma

she wasn’t much use at housekeeping. One thing though, the place was fairly opulent even though it was untidy. It looked like a Turner on the wall but I could be wrong. The ornaments and décor looked expensive so he must have a few quid, or should I say had.


‘There’s not much we can do here; let’s go back to the Yard and get the investigation kicked off,’ I told Harper

comma

who was still flicking through the book.


‘Okay Guv, I’ll just bag this up,’ he said, slipping the book into an evidence pouch. We headed downstairs, slipped out of the contamination suits and headed for the car. On the journey back, Harper drove. I couldn’t get the victim’s face out of my mind. My gut instinct was telling me,

again, present tense; only excuse internal dialogue.

this is going to be a complex investigation.


Back at the ranch Harper got the team together. I was still shocked at seeing the state of the victim – whoever had done that had enjoyed it. Grimesy walked in with a tray of coffee and egg Mcmuffins. Robert Macdonald did for us cops what Gordon Ramsay does for the toffs. Anyway it wasn’t long before the tray was empty.


Yesterday had been a busy day for murder. In the capital alone there were twenty five deaths including the fifteen Bond Street victims. At the moment there were no connections

semicolon

it was just a coincidence that they all happened on the same day.


Trouble is I don’t believe in coincidences.


I was feeling nervous. That was normal for me at the start of a new case. The only antidote I knew was to get stuck in.


I looked around everybody. Harper finished off his sandwich while the rest of the squad stared at me expectantly.



‘Okay

comma

everybody listen up. It would appear that there were eleven separate incidents of a murder yesterday. I’m working with the top brass to find a way of pulling these into some sort of order. At the moment they’re all unconnected but we’ll reserve judgement on that for the moment and we’ll concentrate on our man at Charing Road.

is that "Charing Cross Road"?

The anti terrorist squad are dealing with the bombing and ten other enquiries have been started but we may have to expand our enquiry depending on what’s found. I’ve just come from a particularly gruesome murder scene.’ I stuck a couple of pictures on the clear perspex evidence wall. Some officers gasped at sight of the victims

victim's

wounds.

 

[Gary Compton]

One of these days I'm going to eradicate the curse of the red pen. I appreciate your comments by the way.

Your post crossed in cyberspace with my latest version of the murder scene/dialog.

Onwards and upwards!!

 

[alchemist]

Hi Gary,
Since others have done the details, I'll pick and choose.

‘Good morning Inspector,’ he said in his inimitable gravely voice.
Shouldn't it be "gravelly"?


A swastika had been carefully carved into his chest; you could see his ribs peaking through in places. Blood had spattered on the wall and furniture; they must have been done it while he was alive – sick bastards.

Why is he so sure there's more than one killer?


I lifted his head which rested on his chest; the killer had stabbed him in the eyes. Now you're saying there's one killer. Trails of blood had ran down his face which was contorted in his final terrifying look. I got the fright of my life - this poor man.



‘I don’t Inspector,’ he said shaking his head. ‘But rest assured when I know, so will you.’ You mentioned that this will be a mystery. Maybe say why he's not sure, why he thinks the carving didn't do it.

Dempsey was right; I didn’t got a f*****g clue what it meant. One thing though this poor sod must’ve suffered terribly while they butchered him. I need to get this sicko before he does anymore killing. Mixed singular and plural killers again.



On the cover there was a photo of the author. I compared it to the victim; it was hard to tell with all the blood and swelling but it looked like him.


‘I think we have the victim’s name, Rick,’ I passed Harper the book. It didn’t take him long to make his mind up. Is it the victim's house? If so, they should know already.



Back at the ranch Harper got the team together. I was still shocked at seeing the state of the victim – whoever had done that had enjoyed it. Grimesy walked in with a tray of coffee and egg Mcmuffins. Robert Ronald, surely. Macdonald did for us cops what Gordon Ramsay does for the toffs. Anyway it wasn’t long before the tray was empty.

If this is going where I think it is, this being a SFF website, it's an intriguing concept. Good work.

 

[Gary Compton]

Can you tell I dont eat Macdonalds - what an idiot I am. (Robert)

Where actually do you think it's going out of interest?

The victim didnt die of his wounds, please read my last entry and thanks for critiquing. I'll have a look tomorrow as it's getting late now and matron will be along shortly to put me to bed!!

 

[TheEndIsNigh]

Hi Gary,

For some reason, and I haven't a clue why, it doesn't feel first person to me

Usual caveats

R remove
G Possible suggestions
B comments in general

All only opinions

Thanks for your comments Ladies and Gentlemen. I've expanded the murder scene descriptions and taken into account the grammar errors (I'm still rubbish at this even after private tuition!!)

I hope it reads better

Doctor Adrian Dempsey walked toward me.


‘Good morning Inspector,’ he said in his inimitable (why wasn't it possible to imitated - what's the relevance?) gravely voice.


‘Morning Doctor, I haven’t seen you for a while. How are you keeping?’ I enquired.


‘Sorry to spoil your day but we have a particularly gruesome murder scene in there - to put it politely, it’s a mess.’ (who?)


That’s all I needed(,) was blood and guts everywhere. Even now after all these years the sight of it would turn turned my stomach. Dempsey looked at me over his gold rimmed spectacles that accentuated his bearded round face. (A little too much description IMO) He was a little man in height but he had a huge belly that started just below his chin and ended at his waist. He made Harper look like Twiggy, I’d known him a long time and he was a nice guy, and but more importantly, a brilliant pathologist(.) and he always came up trumps.


‘Thanks Doctor. Is it okay to go in?’


‘Yes Inspector – but can you and the Sergeant suit up first, I don’t want you contaminating my scene,’ he said firmly. (Asking nicely then firmly - it' should be either one or the other)


‘Of course Doctor, I wouldn’t expect it any other way.’ I didn’t have to be reminded about procedure. Me and Harper slipped into our white suits and made our way up the stairs to the second floor flat. SOCO officers were photographing the scene, dusting for fingerprints and carefully bagging any potential evidence.


I wasn’t really expecting what I saw. I was quite taken aback to be honest. Not the normal murder scene if there is such a thing. The victim was tied to a chair and his shirt had been ripped off. A large amount of blood had spread (pooled maybe) around on the floor.


A swastika had been carefully (difficult to do with a man screaming and writhing in agony while you do it) carved into his chest; you could see his ribs peaking through in places. Blood had spattered on the wall and furniture; they must have been done it while he was alive – sick bastards.


Rigor mortis had set in, so he’d been dead four or five hours. Dempsey would confirm this no doubt. The victim's (not Dempsey) His knuckles were white, he’d gripped the chair with such force while they butchered him that his hands had clung to the arms after death. (technical query - if he bled out wouldn't he be pale all over and hence the knuckles would be white anyway and if you do bleed out can a hand maintain the grip - lack of blood etc.)


I lifted his head which rested on his chest; the killer had stabbed him in the eyes. Trails of blood had ran down his face which was contorted in his final terrifying look. I got the fright of my life - this poor man.


I looked at Harper who held holding his hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop himself puking. On the victims wrists and ankles, the chains had cut into his flesh while he’d struggled to escape this torture. His trousers were sodden with congealing blood and the stench of death was overpowering. I coughed; I could almost taste the vileness of this murder.


‘What the hell have we got here then?’ I asked Harper. (as you say in the next sentence why would he have this outburst. Now if the Sergent had arrived first it would make sense but you specify he didn't. Asking another person in the room that had arrived before the two of them would make sense but this isn't realistic

I turned to the first officer on the scene, "Do we know anything about the guy? "

would be more likely and more active)


Why I was asking him I don’t know, the brutality was the worst I’d ever seen. He shrugged his shoulders, like me, he had no answers.


Dempsey walked in, ‘What did he die of Adrian. Do you know yet?’


‘I don’t Inspector,’ he said shaking his head. ‘But rest assured when I know, so will you.’


I walked around the body and saw some writing in chalk on the floor. I studied the message; the words were definitely not English.


I tried saying them ‘Nacht der Langen Messer…’ Harper looked at me if I was speaking Klingon or something. I repeated them again but he shook his head. (Again a bit unrealistic - We have a swastika and a Germanic like sounding language - surely the clues are there)

I tried to pronounce the words "Nacht der Langen Messer… How's your 'O' level German Harper?" I asked. He shook his head.

"I took French Sir." He replied, typical.

‘Do you know what that means Doctor?’ I said pointing to the mystery words.


‘If I’m not mistaken it means night of the long knives, take that with the swastika and I think it could be referring to when Hitler’s SS took out all of his enemies in one hit.’


‘Yeah, I’ve heard of that on Discovery or something. What relevance does it have here?’


‘I only provide the evidence,’ Dempsey answered. ‘It’s up to you to interpret it Inspector.’


I looked at Harper and rolled my eyes and shrugged my shoulders.


Dempsey was right; I didn’t got a f*****g clue what the connection was it meant. One thing though this poor sod must’ve suffered terribly while they butchered him. I need to get this sicko before he does anymore killing. (they - this)


I looked around the flat, it was a mess. (already established) They were (who?) clearly looking for something but for what? Bookcases lay broken and battered on the floor, there the contents were strewn all over the floor. I picked up a book that lay at my feet and stared at the cover.“My Family and Auschwitz,” No doubt WW11 related. I blew the dust off the book and opened it.


On the inside cover there was a photo of the author. I compared it to the victim; it was hard to tell with all the blood and swelling but it looked like him.


‘I think we have the victim’s name, Rick,(is this Harper's first name?)’ I passed Harper the book. It didn’t take him long to make his mind up.


‘Yes that’s him,’ he said matter of factly.


I ran my hand across the top of the sideboard. Even allowing for the mess caused by the killers; the flat was still fairly dusty. I don’t think this guy had a woman in his life or if he did she wasn’t much use at housekeeping. One thing though, the place was fairly opulent even though it was untidy. It looked like a Turner on the wall but I could be wrong. The ornaments and décor looked expensive so he must have a few quid, or should I say had.


‘There’s not much we can do here; let’s go back to the Yard and get the investigation kicked off,’ I told Harper who was still flicking through the book. (Again not realistic - there's lots they could still do. OK they may not want to but the statement isn't valid IMO)


‘Okay Guv, I’ll just bag this up,’ he said, slipping the book into an evidence pouch. We headed downstairs, slipped out of the contamination suits and headed for the car. On the journey back, Harper drove. I couldn’t get the victim’s face out of my mind. My gut instinct was telling me, this is going to be a complex investigation.


Back at the ranch Harper got the team together. I was still shocked at seeing the state of the victim – whoever had done that had enjoyed it. Grimesy walked in with a tray of coffee and egg Mcmuffins. Robert Macdonald did for us cops what Gordon Ramsay does for the toffs. Anyway it wasn’t long before the tray was empty.


Yesterday had been a busy day for murder. In the capital alone there were twenty five deaths including the fifteen Bond Street victims. At the moment there were no connections it was just a coincidence that they all happened on the same day. (When is this set, because 25 would be an unusual day in London present day - Even the ten would raise eyebrows)


Trouble is I don’t believe in coincidences.


I was feeling nervous. That was normal for me at the start of a new case. The only antidote I knew was to get stuck in.


I looked around everybody. Harper finished off his sandwich while the rest of the squad stared at me expectantly.



‘Okay everybody listen up. It would appear that there were eleven separate incidents of a murder yesterday. I’m working with the top brass (when did this happen - Surely a conclusion of this nature would be in the story line but all we have is he went to a murder scene and then back to the office to set up the inquiry) to find a way of pulling these into some sort of order. At the moment they’re all unconnected but we’ll reserve judgement on that for the moment and we’ll concentrate on our man at Charing Road. The anti terrorist squad are dealing with the bombing and ten other enquiries have been started but we may have to expand our enquiry depending on what’s found. I’ve just come from a particularly gruesome murder scene.’ I stuck a couple of pictures on the clear perspex evidence wall. Some officers gasped at sight of the victims wounds.

As I said before I find that the first person isn't being maintained in the narrative for some reason - Perhaps it's because there seem to be a lot of past tense references. I can't put my finger on it though.

As an example

I looked around everybody. Harper finished off his sandwich while the rest of the squad stared at me expectantly.

I think would be better as

Looking round, Harper was chewing his sandwich, while the rest just stared at me, expectantly.

Hope I helped

TEiN

 

[Hericksonbrigl]

It is pretty hard to write out the inner thought process on someone. This is very well implemented and I like what I see.

One thing I would like to see a bit more of is details of the surrounding area. It left a bit up to my imagination, but none the less the swastika and the writing in blood is a very nice touch.

Why wasn't he able to see the writing prior to coming around the body? That probably needs to be clarified a bit, but that is my only real nit pick.

Good job! I want to read more.

 

[alchemist]

Can you tell I dont eat Macdonalds - what an idiot I am. (Robert)

Where actually do you think it's going out of interest?

The victim didnt die of his wounds, please read my last entry and thanks for critiquing. I'll have a look tomorrow as it's getting late now and matron will be along shortly to put me to bed!!

My first thought was time-travelling nazis evening up scores all over London. I know Nazis are meant to be something of a cliche in SF, but that doesn't bother me, as I quite like the idea.

I had seen the last entry. What I'm getting at, i think, is that there's an obvious cause. For the pathologist to be puzzled, he must have some inkling the obvious cause is not the true one. He could give the reason he won't posit a cause of death (this may require some decent knowledge of pathology). Maybe he could express puzzlement e.g. "I know there are grave wounds, but something doesn't match up."
The "large amount of blood" suggests he was carved while alive, and not killed beforehand. Therefore he must estimate that the large loss of blood wasn't sufficient to kill him. You might have to tone down the gore for the story to make sense.

 

[ctg]

I understand why TEIN is saying to you that the writing doesn't immediately come across as personalised first person narrative, and I have to unfortunately agree. Maybe the reason is that you are trying at the same time maintain your voice as story teller as you focus on your character.

The first person is all about knowing the character inside out. You know how he speaks, thinks, feels, eats, sh*ts, love, hate and so on. You know where he's local is, you know if he walks there or take a car. You know if he likes to eat there or go down the binge drinking path.

All in all the character is you, a reflection of you, but you don't need to describe him, just write him out so well that we can know him as well as you do. So, do what TEIN says you to do and go back when you have finished this version to personalise all the lines.