Hidden Triangles ver 2 - 600 words

[Hex]

This is a re-written beginning to the piece I posted last time. It's fairly different because some of the last version didn't really make sense when I thought about it... It may be that this version doesn't either, but I hope so. Again, please be gentle - but not uncritical. I'd really appreciate comments at all levels, from meaning to grammar/ punctuation/ tightening.


One evening three months ago I dropped some rabbit bones. The skull cracked and ruined the set. Irritated at having to replace it, Morchin Dal left me in the forest to die.

He was trying to find a way to detect Hidden Triangles. He'd been paid a king's ransom to do it, but now it looked like he'd have to pay it back. Nothing worked. Twice, whole battalions vanished close enough for us to hear the screaming. Men disappeared into the earth, leaving behind only abandoned blankets and dying fires. At the second site, Morchin Dal drew a line to the Dark, and had me stand at the end of it, waiting for the Triangle to return.

Nothing scares me like the black earth. The earth that has already swallowed so many men. Black because it's full of blood, black because it's airless. Sweat runs into my eyes. My teeth close around the ridge in my lip.

"Stand still, you idiot."

I close my eyes and listen to the wind in the trees, to Morchin Dal's muttered incantations. You cannot hear the Triangles. It makes no sense to listen for them, for the gentle opening of the earth below you. It makes no sense.

"Bring me the bones. Now."

Like an idiot I open the bag with my right hand and take out the box of rabbit bones with my left -- my weak left hand. When I drop the box and the bones tumble out, there is a frozen instant when I hope all will be well, then the skull fractures against a root.

Morchin Dal's blast of power sends me backwards into a tree; there's a wet snap as my arm breaks again. When I open my eyes, he's standing over me, his hand raised -- the power's streaming through his hair, his clothes. His face is blank, but his eyes tell me I'm going to die.

I'm such a long way from home. I wonder if he'll tell ma what happened or leave her guessing. Twenty-eight isn't such a bad age. I wonder if dying will hurt.

And then he smiles. "You can stay here."

"Master?"

"Yes, Strome. You can stay in the forest on your own. Stay with the beasts and the Triangles. Perhaps you'll even attract a revenant. I hear they don't kill you before they start eating."

The slap of power leaves me dizzy and bloody, struggling to stand. His footsteps, muffled by the pine needles, fade out. I try to follow; my legs won't support me, my arm is useless. What am I going to do? All I know is him.

I wait for him to come back. I am stupid and I deserve punishment. I hate being abandoned by my master. At home, abandonment is the cupboard with brooms in it. There's no space there to lie down, so I crouch in the bleach-scented darkness, nursing my arm, waiting for him. At home I can hear voices, footsteps. The forest, though, is huge and terrifying, the sky goes up and up.

My blood smells of iron. It's all I can smell. I know the forest has scents of pine, of mulch under the trees, but all I smell is blood. It must be drawing things towards me in the dark. Terrible, faceless things with claws and sharp teeth.

They say a revenant's skin is dead white, like fish that live in unlit pools; that they eat living flesh and drag the remains -- still screaming, sometimes -- down into the Triangles, into the cold dead earth.

Will the animals eat me if they find me? Will a Triangle open beneath me in the night? I'm so thirsty I can't think properly. My arm hurts. The night is very long and very cold, and, just before dawn, the soldiers find me.

 

[RJM Corbet]

No complaints. Good, effective, polished writing.
Hex, if you really want to, you can still tighten the dialogue, thus:

"Stand still. Idiot."

"Bring me the bones."

He smiles. "You can stay."

There's also something about the capitalization of 'Hidden Triangles'. It jars a little:

... detect hidden triangles ... (lower case italic? And keep it like that through the book?)

That's all though, roll the press ...

 

[Colbey Frost]

This is a re-written beginning to the piece I posted last time. It's fairly different because some of the last version didn't really make sense when I thought about it... It may be that this version doesn't either, but I hope so. Again, please be gentle - but not uncritical. I'd really appreciate comments at all levels, from meaning to grammar/ punctuation/ tightening.


One evening three months ago I dropped some rabbit bones. The skull cracked and ruined the set. Irritated at having to replace it, Morchin Dal left me in the forest to die. A bit harsh? Left to die because he dropped a bone? And if they really are that important wouldn't he carry them himself.

He was trying to find a way to detect Hidden Triangles. He'd been paid a king's ransom to do it, but now it looked like he'd have to pay it back. Nothing worked. Twice, whole battalions vanished close enough for us to hear the screaming. Were they that close to watch what happened? To study? And if they could be that close twice, then they must have a good understanding of how it works? Why didn't the hundreds of men know? Where they just a test? Men disappeared into the earth, leaving behind only abandoned blankets and dying fires. So its not some kind of supernatural thing? The earth actually takes them? If you can hear their screams then it must be either slow or done ins sections? Plus if the earth opened up wouldn't it take everything? At the second site, Morchin Dal drew a line to the Dark, and had me stand at the end of it, waiting for the Triangle to return. Triangle to return makes me think of a ship, but then below you reference the earth again.

Nothing scares me like the black earth. The earth that has already swallowed so many men. Black because it's full of blood, black because it's airless. Sweat runs into my eyes. My teeth close around the ridge in my lip.

"Stand still, you idiot."

I close my eyes and listen to the wind in the trees, to Morchin Dal's muttered incantations. You cannot hear the Triangles. It makes no sense to listen for them, for the gentle opening of the earth below you. It makes no sense.

"Bring me the bones. Now."

Like an idiot I open the bag with my right hand and take out the box of rabbit bones with my left -- my weak left hand. When I drop the box and the bones tumble out, there is a frozen instant when I hope all will be well, then the skull fractures against a root. Seems info dumpy... try turning it into a dramatic scene. After all this may very will be a tunring point in his life. Just read the below para and that is how this one should read, or could read.

Morchin Dal's blast of power sends me backwards into a tree; there's a wet snap as my arm breaks again. When I open my eyes, he's standing over me, his hand raised -- the power's streaming through his hair, his clothes. His face is blank, but his eyes tell me I'm going to die. I like this bit a lot.

I'm such a long way from home. I wonder if he'll tell ma what happened or leave her guessing. Twenty-eight isn't such a bad age. I wonder if dying will hurt. I thought he would be younger.

And then he smiles. "You can stay here."

"Master?"

"Yes, Strome. You can stay in the forest on your own. Stay with the beasts and the Triangles. Perhaps you'll even attract a revenant. I hear they don't kill you before they start eating."

The slap of power leaves me dizzy and bloody, struggling to stand. His footsteps, muffled by the pine needles, fade out. I try to follow; my legs won't support me, my arm is useless. What am I going to do? All I know is him. Good until last bit, then I start trying to figure out if all he knew was him, then what connection does his have to his "ma" for his master to have the option of "tell, don't tell?"

I wait for him to come back. I am stupid and I deserve punishment. I hate being abandoned by my master. At home, abandonment is the cupboard with brooms in it. There's no space there to lie down, so I crouch in the bleach-scented darkness, nursing my arm, waiting for him. At home I can hear voices, footsteps. The forest, though, is huge and terrifying, the sky goes up and up. This para just confused me... in forest, at home, in forest...

My blood smells of iron. It's all I can smell. I know the forest has scents of pine, of mulch under the trees, but all I smell is blood. It must be drawing things towards me in the dark. Terrible, faceless things with claws and sharp teeth.

They say a revenant's skin is dead white, like fish that live in unlit pools; that they eat living flesh and drag the remains (this makes me think that fish do the same...) -- still screaming, sometimes -- down into the Triangles, into the cold dead earth.

Will the animals eat me if they find me? Will a Triangle open beneath me in the night? I'm so thirsty I can't think properly. My arm hurts. The night is very long and very cold (cut out both "very"s) and, just before dawn, the soldiers find me. I'm with the character and then, boom! He's found... didn't sit right.

I don't normally comment on first person but you've commented on a fair few of mine so thought I would return the gift... although some people don't like the present inside

I like it when people ask me questions rather than say "this is wrong, that is wrong" etc so I've tried to do the same for you.

If I'm wrong or off the ball then just ignore, if not then I hope it leads onto something you can use.

Also, the word "triangle" for something so... dark seems a little off. I like the image it brings but rather than just call them "triangles" maybe you could describe why it may be seen that way and give it a unique name.

Fun to read and enjoyed doing the critque, see you around Hex

 

[The Judge]

I have to say, Hex, I greatly preferred the first version. To my mind that got us into the action straight away, whereas this is far too waffly for a beginning.

You've a problem now with your first para. Beforehand, the story led straight on from it -- he broke the bones, is sold, we see the recruiter. Here you tell us what happened, and then show it actually happening. It doesn't work, I don't think, as foreshadowing, and the repetition simply acts to dilute the tension.

I have to say I really don't like the lurch into present tense for the scene in the forest. It can work but it needs to be kept very tightly under control as to time -- after all, present tense means everything is happening in the here and now -- which I don't think you maintain eg he's there overnight and "just before dawn the soldiers find me." Worse, by starting in the past tense -- and making it clear with "three months ago" that everything definitely occurred in the past -- and even dropping into past perfect ("He'd been paid..."), it makes the use of present feel wholly out of place.

To my mind, as well, you're dragging in back story far too early here by telling us about the triangles and the dead soldiers -- it was much better when it came as a shock when people are killed there in front of him. Now this feels rather info-dumpy.

For my taste, also, the emphasis on what Strome thinks and feels is too much -- you're laying it on too thick and at far too great a length, if indeed it has to be there at all. Certainly we need to empathise with him, but his being sold for breaking a rabbit bone is enough to engage our sympathies without this angsting. From a child it would be wearisome, but when you tell us he's 28 it completely reverses my initial feelings about him -- he's no longer an object to be pitied but a weakling to be scorned. That's harsh, I know, and I'm not saying you have to make him some kind of macho hulk-type figure, but there's a line which I think you've crossed by making him so completely wet. You've also crossed the line with Morchin Dal. In the original he was a real person, very unpleasant but true to life, but you've now turned him into a caricature of a sadistic baddie.

Sorry this is so terribly negative. You have a talent, but this version really doesn't do it or you justice in my view. Your original opening was punchy, with deft charactisation, told us all we needed to know, engaged our attention, and got us interested in the boy and his situation. I really would encourage you to return to it.

 

[Hex]

Sigh.

Thanks everyone

I did wonder if this just went on too long and was too overdone. One of the things I find really hard about the critiques (critters, not here) is knowing how much to spell out - the first version didn't, and I got questions like "what's a revenant?" and this one does, and is info-dumpy (nice word).

There was supposed to be a story to this version, unlike the last one - he starts off as pathetic and gets less so - but I don't like him as much this time round.

And Triangles - yes, I'm not sure either. I will reconsider.

Hey ho. Back to the drawing board (and the first version).

 

[alchemist]

As you know, I loved your first version. This feels like a different story altogether, and didn't grab me the same way.

I wouldn't drop the Triangles yet. It's intriguing to have such an ordinary word as an evil entity. I don't know what the Triangles are meant to be, but that dissonance works for me.

 

[Hex]

I have a nasty feeling this one is too "conscious" about what I'm trying to do, although the alternative - writing stories at random and hoping they work - is probably not the way to go either.

The advantage of changing the beginning back is that I'm down 1,000 words to 6,500. Woo hoo.

 

[Colbey Frost]

As you know, I loved your first version. This feels like a different story altogether, and didn't grab me the same way.

I wouldn't drop the Triangles yet. It's intriguing to have such an ordinary word as an evil entity. I don't know what the Triangles are meant to be, but that dissonance works for me.

Its a strong image, and could be used in description. But it's always nice to use something more original? Trivoids? Could be something like that or something made up, as long as the powerful image is there.

Also, triangle could be symbolic of other things in the book? Using the number 3 to your advantage.

 

[alchemist]

But I think the sheer ordinariness of the word works here. It takes something extremely familiar and makes it nasty (like Chucky dolls. Okay, maybe not such a good example).

A question that may have to be asked, though, is how they got their name in the context of the story. A society familiar with the simple triangle shape is unlikely to use the name for a newly found mystical beastie. The word Trivoids (good one) would more likely be applied then.

 

[Hex]

A question that may have to be asked, though, is how they got their name in the context of the story. A society familiar with the simple triangle shape is unlikely to use the name for a newly found mystical beastie. The word Trivoids (good one) would more likely be applied then.

Don't say that. I'll have to write three pages of explanation about how they remind people of the great Triangle Crown of legend, which was said to select rulers for Askar based on the shape of their heads - it only fitted one person in each generation. Since the loss of the crown in the pixie crusades of the 1530s, Askar has been ruled by people who are weak and self-indulgent, with normal-shaped heads. So the Triangles are named out of a sense of nostalgia for the great days of old. And Morchin Dal's head is almost perfectly triangular.

 

[Hex]

I've still not quite managed to sort out dialogue in my head. This is an example of where I get stuck:

Siras Eld of the guard crashes back into sight. He's on foot and there's blood on his face. "Triangle!" he screams. "Get back!"

Is it OK like that (with the speech being part of the paragraph describing his actions), or must it be a new paragraph? And, if it's OK, how much can I have in the paragraph - are there rules?

 

[alchemist]

That's fine. I remember it being discussed in the Toolbox in Writing Resources (the last few pages, at least, and probably elsewhere).

 

[RJM Corbet]

Siras Eld of the guard crashes back into sight. He's on foot and there's blood on his face. "Triangle!" he screams. "Get back!"

"Triangle!" screams Siras Eld of the guard, crashing back into sight. He's on foot and there's blood on his face.


Siras Eld of the guard crashes into sight. He's on foot and there's blood on his face. "Triangle!" he screams. "Back!"

Siras Eld of the guard crashes into sight. He's on foot and there's blood on his face. "Triangle!" he screams: "Back!"


I prefer the top one. No problem keeping it all on one line ...

 

[The Judge]

One of the things I find really hard about the critiques (critters, not here) is knowing how much to spell out - the first version didn't, and I got questions like "what's a revenant?" and this one does, and is info-dumpy (nice word).

I would always spell out too little than too much, certainly at the beginning of a story. Readers shouldn't expect to be spoon-fed and if they don't know what revenant is they should jolly well look it up instead of whingeing!

There was supposed to be a story to this version, unlike the last one - he starts off as pathetic and gets less so...

That's a good idea -- but if he's too wet then his transformation is less believable.

... but I don't like him as much this time round.

And I think that will show in your writing.

And Triangles - yes, I'm not sure either. I will reconsider.

I also liked the juxtaposition of an ordinary word with something mysterious and (possibly) evil.

I've still not quite managed to sort out dialogue in my head. This is an example of where I get stuck:

Siras Eld of the guard crashes back into sight. He's on foot and there's blood on his face. "Triangle!" he screams. "Get back!"

Is it OK like that (with the speech being part of the paragraph describing his actions), or must it be a new paragraph? And, if it's OK, how much can I have in the paragraph - are there rules?

That's fine, as long as it's the same person, so you couldn't have Siras rushing in and then Mithras speaking all in the same para. There aren't any rules as to how much you can put in a para, it's a question of feel. For myself I probably wouldn't have more than a couple of sentences, and I wouldn't bury the dialogue between two sections of narrative all in one para.

 

[Hex]

Sorry this is so terribly negative.

I meant to say: don't be sorry. It was spot on.

What's more, you said this:

You have a talent... Your original opening was punchy, with deft charactisation, told us all we needed to know, engaged our attention, and got us interested in the boy and his situation.

Which means I will need to be scraped off the ceiling later.

I have to admit, I snarled to myself about the people who didn't look up 'revenant', or guess from the context.

I suppose you can't write something that suits everyone - or, well, I can't.

 

[RJM Corbet]

... I have to admit, I snarled to myself about the people who didn't look up 'revenant', or guess from the context.

I suppose you can't write something that suits everyone - or, well, I can't.

No, you can't please everyone.

But I think it's dangerous, in the intro, to expect your reader to do too much work. He might just put your book down and pick up another one?

That's the writer's job ...

 

[ctg]

I suppose you can't write something that suits everyone - or, well, I can't.

No, you certainly cannot. I wrote in my last novel about the deep sea mining and people laughed at me. They said that it's never going to happen, and yet, this morning I read two pieces that said otherwise.

So there, what can I say? Nothing.

Just roll my thumps and wonder...

In the regard of this piece, I admire you taking the first person in present tense, and doing it so very well. But I have to agree, it lacks of tension, the unpredictability. And in some parts that I won't repeat, it reads like an info-dump. BUT, and this a big but, what you should do is to recognise those bits that are at the moment dull, and edit them till you can feel the excitement radiating out from them.

So don't get all upset. Be humble and use the hints to polish this piece. Please.

 

[TheEndIsNigh]

Hex: As others have mentioned, this version, to me, doesn't work as well as the original.

One huge problem seems to be that if no one knows what they look like why are they calling them triangles?

This is a re-written beginning to the piece I posted last time. It's fairly different because some of the last version didn't really make sense when I thought about it... It may be that this version doesn't either, but I hope so. Again, please be gentle - but not uncritical. I'd really appreciate comments at all levels, from meaning to grammar/ punctuation/ tightening.


One evening three months ago I dropped some rabbit bones. The skull cracked and ruined the set. Irritated at having to replace it, Morchin Dal left me in the forest to die. (~Again the great significance of the rabbit bones is lost as a reason for this punishment,treatment. Why is it required and if it is then we need to know the value, because it just doesn't create in the reader any great sense of loss: irritated certainly wouldn't cover it. IMO)
He was trying to find a way to detect Hidden Triangles. (again he doesn't know what he's looking for - it's supposed to be a mystery. Hes looking for a mysterious phenomena which is swallowing up great dollops of men and no one knows how,why or when. This research alone would be sufficient for him to go down to the local slave pit and get himself a bit of flesh on the hoof to act as bait - no need for the rabbit skulls) He'd been paid a king's ransom to do it, but now it looked like he'd have to pay it back. Nothing worked. (Again it would appear he hasn't tried everything yet - slave bait is still ongoing) Twice, whole battalions vanished close enough for us to hear the screaming. Men disappeared into the earth, leaving behind only abandoned blankets and dying fires. (this seems a difficult process to arrange - if 'earth swallowing' is involved it would swallow everything including tent and fires - if not, then swallowing isn't the right word) At the second site, Morchin Dal drew a line to the Dark, and had me stand at the end of it, waiting for the Triangle to return. (What second site?)

Nothing scares me like the black earth. (Sorry to be negative again, but standing alone in the dark acting as bait is OK then?) The earth that has already swallowed so many men. Black because it's full of blood,(?) black because it's airless.(?) Sweat runs into my eyes. My teeth close around the ridge in my lip.

"Stand still, you idiot."

I close my eyes and listen to the wind in the trees, to Morchin Dal's muttered incantations. You cannot hear the Triangles. It makes no sense to listen for them, for the gentle opening of the earth below you. It makes no sense.

"Bring me the bones. Now."

Like an idiot I open the bag with my right hand and take out the box of rabbit bones with my left -- my weak left hand. When I drop the box and the bones tumble out, there is a frozen instant when I hope all will be well, then the skull fractures against a root. (out of sequence - confusing time line)

Morchin Dal's blast of power sends me backwards into a tree; there's a wet snap (?) as my arm breaks again. When I open my eyes, he's standing over me, his hand raised -- the power's streaming through his hair, his clothes. His face is blank, but his eyes tell me I'm going to die.

I'm such a long way from home. I wonder if he'll tell ma what happened or leave her guessing. Twenty-eight isn't such a bad age. I wonder if dying will hurt.

And then he smiles. "You can stay here."

(Why? he's still looking for the triangles and the bait is still available)

"Master?"

(Sorry, had to stop early)


"Yes, Strome. You can stay in the forest on your own. Stay with the beasts and the Triangles. Perhaps you'll even attract a revenant. I hear they don't kill you before they start eating."

The slap of power leaves me dizzy and bloody, struggling to stand. His footsteps, muffled by the pine needles, fade out. I try to follow; my legs won't support me, my arm is useless. What am I going to do? All I know is him.

I wait for him to come back. I am stupid and I deserve punishment. I hate being abandoned by my master. At home, abandonment is the cupboard with brooms in it. There's no space there to lie down, so I crouch in the bleach-scented darkness, nursing my arm, waiting for him. At home I can hear voices, footsteps. The forest, though, is huge and terrifying, the sky goes up and up.

My blood smells of iron. It's all I can smell. I know the forest has scents of pine, of mulch under the trees, but all I smell is blood. It must be drawing things towards me in the dark. Terrible, faceless things with claws and sharp teeth.

They say a revenant's skin is dead white, like fish that live in unlit pools; that they eat living flesh and drag the remains -- still screaming, sometimes -- down into the Triangles, into the cold dead earth.

Will the animals eat me if they find me? Will a Triangle open beneath me in the night? I'm so thirsty I can't think properly. My arm hurts. The night is very long and very cold, and, just before dawn, the soldiers find me.

 

[The Judge]

No, you can't please everyone, Hex. Take the issue of the rabbit bones which TEiN thinks needs to be explained and seems not to like. I love the fact that dropping the rabbit bones is enough to make MD angry enough to leave Strome behind, especially that casual "ruined the set". To me it reeks of magic and divination!

Think carefully about advice given, especially if several people are saying the same thing, but in the end you have to go with what feels right to you, not to everyone else. (Until your agent/editor tells you to do something!)

 

[Colbey Frost]

No, you can't please everyone, Hex. Take the issue of the rabbit bones which TEiN thinks needs to be explained and seems not to like. I love the fact that dropping the rabbit bones is enough to make MD angry enough to leave Strome behind, especially that casual "ruined the set". To me it reeks of magic and divination!

Think carefully about advice given, especially if several people are saying the same thing, but in the end you have to go with what feels right to you, not to everyone else. (Until your agent/editor tells you to do something!)

I agree with the above and just add when people give critiques most of it will be off the top of their head as they read through it. It's not as if they've spent hours over like you may have.

The good thing and critique though, whether it's good, bad, on the ball or off the ball, is that it gets your thinking.

I don't know if it's the same for anyone else but I get so involved and close to my work that I find it hard to pull away from it. When someone adds a view point, you look into it and consider it... that's what makes it all so good in my opinion.

If ten people tell you they don't like triangle, but one says they do, then that doesn't scrap it, it just means think about it. This sight might have too many like minded people so mass advice could even lead to dead ends and consider how many people there are on this planet who would sway the vote for want of a better phrase.

Anyway, I fear I'm waffling and taking the thread off subject.