SleepyDormouse
dreaming away....
- Joined
- Jan 10, 2011
- Messages
- 239
I have completely re-written the first chapter for my middle grade (8-12 yr old) story. The original chapter was critiqued here , but this bares no resemblance to the new chapter really.
I'm still not sure its the right place to start, but it feels better to me
Though now I'm putting it up on critiques I start noticing there is not much action, and rather a lot of introspection.
-----------------------
Something’s wrong, thought Kendric as his awareness shifted from intense concentration on the object in his hand to his surroundings. Sunlight shone across the familiar room onto walls hung with all manner of tools; Saws, hammers, chisels and many others crowding in on him. Across the room the treadle lathe stood silent and still.
He was alone; his father’s normally busy workshop was empty. Why was no one here?
Struggling to throw the last cobwebs from his mind and remember what was special about today he looked down at the cause of his problem. One hand was curled around the smooth handle of a small knife and in the other was a shaped lump of wood. He wasn’t even sure what he had carved this time until he turned the lump around and revealed an owl.
How long have I been sat alone in here carving? He didn’t care how proudly his father said that woodworking was “in his blood”, Kendric wished he could simply control when he did it. How long would it be before someone noticed the way the carving controlled him and wondered why? He had thought about it often enough himself and though he hardly dared think the word “magic” was what crept into his mind most often. But that would be impossible, and terrible.
Even if he somehow, incredibly, did have magic surely it would show itself in amazing way, huge fireworks or explosions, not through simple wood carving. Repeatedly finding yourself waking from a trance in which you had been carving blocks of wood was not “normal” though.
Where am I supposed to be?
The wind outside changed direction, and a snatch of distant music, discordant and harsh, filled the otherwise silent workshop.
The fair!
Abruptly Kendric shoved the new carving onto a workbench by his side, causing a cascade of wood chips and shavings to scatter across the planked floor as he stood. With the words of his father “Always look after your tools” echoing in his mind Kendric paused to slot the carving knife back into its place on the wall before racing across to the nearest window.
The sun was almost directly overhead. Nearly midday, if I am lucky I might just make the procession, and maybe no-one will have missed me.
*
Turning the corner Kendric slowed; suddenly there were people everywhere and the already narrow streets were made narrower still by stalls. As he pressed into the crowd he was dazzled as swirling colours, tempting smells and the general hubbub enveloped him. He swerved around a girl in a yellow dress as she dropped a penny into an organ man's pot and the loud discordant tune followed him as he wove his way towards the town square.
Here the narrow street opened out and crowds thinned. Over the heads of chatting ladies he could see the maypole, its top decorated with ivy, colourful ribbons hanging down like timid girls awaiting a dance partner.
“Where have you been all morning?”
Recognising his friend’s voice behind him, Kendric turned with a smile. Marley was tall and with his unusual black hair was easy to spot amongst the crowd unlike Kendric, who was so ordinary looking he could blend into a group of boys to the point of almost disappearing. Today Marley was looking unusually clean and neat apart from a smudge of honey and cake crumbs below his lower lip.
“Oh, have you been carving again?” Marley continued with mild annoyance looking at Kendric’s tunic, which still had curled flakes of wood stuck in the woollen fabric.
Hastily Kendric brushed his tunic clean, resorting to plucking flakes out with his fingers where they clung determinedly to the fibres. “I had no choice in it,” he muttered sourly.
“You’re father is a hard task master to make you work today!” Marley said.
Relieved that Marley had not understood his true meaning Kendric quickly changed the subject. “I haven’t missed the procession have I?”
“It’s one of the only things you haven’t missed!” Marley said as he lifted his honey cake and had another bite from it. “This cake for instance, it’s delicious. I’ve had three already!”
Kendric took a slow breath, he wasn’t too late. As he relaxed he suddenly realised how hungry he was, “It looks good, where did you buy it?”
When Kendric turned around from a stall with his own cake, which was indeed deliciously sticky, sweet and delicately spiced, he scanned the growing crowd for his friend. With a sinking feeling Kendric found Marley standing in the one area of the square that he had been trained to avoid since early childhood.
Despite the now quite heavy crowd, a clearing encircled an ancient water fountain, created by the Mages before the Falling, and it was just inside this clearing that Marley was standing.
Kendric hesitated, feeling suddenly cold despite the warm sun, until he saw the familiar daring look on Marley’s face. With a resigned sigh, he forced himself to join his friend.
I'm still not sure its the right place to start, but it feels better to me
Though now I'm putting it up on critiques I start noticing there is not much action, and rather a lot of introspection.-----------------------
Something’s wrong, thought Kendric as his awareness shifted from intense concentration on the object in his hand to his surroundings. Sunlight shone across the familiar room onto walls hung with all manner of tools; Saws, hammers, chisels and many others crowding in on him. Across the room the treadle lathe stood silent and still.
He was alone; his father’s normally busy workshop was empty. Why was no one here?
Struggling to throw the last cobwebs from his mind and remember what was special about today he looked down at the cause of his problem. One hand was curled around the smooth handle of a small knife and in the other was a shaped lump of wood. He wasn’t even sure what he had carved this time until he turned the lump around and revealed an owl.
How long have I been sat alone in here carving? He didn’t care how proudly his father said that woodworking was “in his blood”, Kendric wished he could simply control when he did it. How long would it be before someone noticed the way the carving controlled him and wondered why? He had thought about it often enough himself and though he hardly dared think the word “magic” was what crept into his mind most often. But that would be impossible, and terrible.
Even if he somehow, incredibly, did have magic surely it would show itself in amazing way, huge fireworks or explosions, not through simple wood carving. Repeatedly finding yourself waking from a trance in which you had been carving blocks of wood was not “normal” though.
Where am I supposed to be?
The wind outside changed direction, and a snatch of distant music, discordant and harsh, filled the otherwise silent workshop.
The fair!
Abruptly Kendric shoved the new carving onto a workbench by his side, causing a cascade of wood chips and shavings to scatter across the planked floor as he stood. With the words of his father “Always look after your tools” echoing in his mind Kendric paused to slot the carving knife back into its place on the wall before racing across to the nearest window.
The sun was almost directly overhead. Nearly midday, if I am lucky I might just make the procession, and maybe no-one will have missed me.
*
Turning the corner Kendric slowed; suddenly there were people everywhere and the already narrow streets were made narrower still by stalls. As he pressed into the crowd he was dazzled as swirling colours, tempting smells and the general hubbub enveloped him. He swerved around a girl in a yellow dress as she dropped a penny into an organ man's pot and the loud discordant tune followed him as he wove his way towards the town square.
Here the narrow street opened out and crowds thinned. Over the heads of chatting ladies he could see the maypole, its top decorated with ivy, colourful ribbons hanging down like timid girls awaiting a dance partner.
“Where have you been all morning?”
Recognising his friend’s voice behind him, Kendric turned with a smile. Marley was tall and with his unusual black hair was easy to spot amongst the crowd unlike Kendric, who was so ordinary looking he could blend into a group of boys to the point of almost disappearing. Today Marley was looking unusually clean and neat apart from a smudge of honey and cake crumbs below his lower lip.
“Oh, have you been carving again?” Marley continued with mild annoyance looking at Kendric’s tunic, which still had curled flakes of wood stuck in the woollen fabric.
Hastily Kendric brushed his tunic clean, resorting to plucking flakes out with his fingers where they clung determinedly to the fibres. “I had no choice in it,” he muttered sourly.
“You’re father is a hard task master to make you work today!” Marley said.
Relieved that Marley had not understood his true meaning Kendric quickly changed the subject. “I haven’t missed the procession have I?”
“It’s one of the only things you haven’t missed!” Marley said as he lifted his honey cake and had another bite from it. “This cake for instance, it’s delicious. I’ve had three already!”
Kendric took a slow breath, he wasn’t too late. As he relaxed he suddenly realised how hungry he was, “It looks good, where did you buy it?”
When Kendric turned around from a stall with his own cake, which was indeed deliciously sticky, sweet and delicately spiced, he scanned the growing crowd for his friend. With a sinking feeling Kendric found Marley standing in the one area of the square that he had been trained to avoid since early childhood.
Despite the now quite heavy crowd, a clearing encircled an ancient water fountain, created by the Mages before the Falling, and it was just inside this clearing that Marley was standing.
Kendric hesitated, feeling suddenly cold despite the warm sun, until he saw the familiar daring look on Marley’s face. With a resigned sigh, he forced himself to join his friend.
