Gumshoe Paladin opening (1500)

[The Big Peat]

Aka Not my 500th Post Critique. I know DG Jones loves those sort of milestones, so this is very specifically not one of them

I'm afraid to say its a bit of a mess. I'd hoped to redraft it before asking for critique but I find myself stuck on how to redraft. In particular, what to put in the opening lines is confounding me. Do I start with the MC, the Server, the Setting...?

Thank you in advance for all feedback.

---

Everyone should have a wineshop close to them, one that’s warm, comfortable, and full of convivial company for when bored of drinking alone.

I had one that was close to me.

The centre piece of Flaithi’s charming decor was an old war axe, stuck in the wooden wall behind the bar. Most barmen like to keep a stout blunt instrument nearby for just in case. Flaithi felt the need to use an axe instead, and to keep it prominently displayed as a warning to his customers.

My fellow drinkers needed the warning. They were quite happy to settle the various disputes that arose when drinking with their knives. Flaithi was happy with that too, until they started disturbing business, at which point he intervened. Since he did that with the axe, which he kept wickedly sharp, people minded their manners - until they got drunk. And Flaithi served strong unwatered wine. They were a violent crowd, thieves and thugs, casual criminals to a man, the sort of petty scum I’d been brought up to despise. The sort of scum that, as a holy knight, I was meant to be above. I can’t say I thought like that by then though.

I tell you all this so you understand how rare it was for the room to suddenly drop silent. The nervous, waiting, scared type of silent.

The man who caused it didn’t look particularly fearsome. He was of just above average height, muscular but not stocky, and had a long, youthful looking face, made younger by being clean-shaven, with long black hair tied back. Dangerous, perhaps, but no more than most here. He was clearly important; if I couldn’t tell from the robe of black bear’s fur he wore, despite the intense heat, then the four hulking men walking behind him were a dead give away.

I couldn’t understand why everyone around me was so shook up by him, but shook up they were. They watched him like ravens eying up a eagle, wondering whether to fly from their meal or not, everyone of them tensed. Everyone but the serving girl right next to me.

She was petrified.

Flaithi liked his servers young and pretty, because that was good for business, but more important was a certain amount of guts. So for the girl to react like that meant this man was very bad news - at least for her. Bear Robes stopped in the middle of the room and looked around until he saw her, a look of quiet satisfaction appearing on his face. The girl started to edge away and he walked straight past me, his henchmen following as best they could. It should have been comic, these huge men squeezing their way through the narrow gaps between the tables with everyone trying to pretend they weren’t there. I didn’t feel like laughing. He put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing when she started to squirm, and then turned her around. Nobody said anything. She looked around imploringly. Flaithi shook his head. Around me, men looked away and relaxed slightly as they realised the eagle would be flying by them.

I staggered up to my feet in front of them.

“Pardon me. But she doesn’t want to go with you.”

There was an audible intake of breath as everyone stared at me. For a moment I felt absurdly self-conscious. Some part of my mind tried to convince me I was just drunk and this was a beyond-stupid idea. The rest of me agreed but stayed there anyway. Bear Robes looked quizzically at me with dark empty eyes then shrugged.

Two thugs thundering towards me. They were big, as tall as me and broader, wearing sleeveless tunics that showed off their tattoos, scars and slab-like muscles. My stomach lurched as I bent my knees - probably the drink - and swayed sideways away from a ham-like fist. Then I stepped in, hands blurring as instinct took over. The first collapsed heavily onto the pitch stained rushes as I span and kicked hard at his friend’s knee. He fell down, making strange hissing noises until I gave him a second kick for good luck. I shot Bear Robes a triumphant smile.

He showed no sign of emotion as he held up a very full looking pouch up and stated “This for whoever brings him down.”

sh*t, I thought, and then someone hit me in the back as the whole place boiled over. I staggered, kept my feet, ducked a wild haymaker, and then started wading through the chaos towards Bear Robes. I needed to kill him. If I did, maybe the rest of the common room would back off and not kill me. It would get the girl safe too. But mainly I needed to kill him out of sheer snarling rage. Easier said that done when a whole mob’s trying to get you; if they hadn’t impeded each other so much in their greed to get me, I wouldn’t have lasted three seconds.

It hurt, in a distant way, and then I forgot the pain as I beat a way clear to one of the tables. I jumped up, then on to the next one, kicking the nearest man into his fellows’ ways as I bellowed incoherently. I ploughed into the next mob, knocking them away from me as against the odds, I got closer and closer.His two remaining guards moved to shield him, tracking me with wild, nervous eyes. Black Robes didn’t look nervous though. He just looked amused as he watched me.

He should have been watching the girl.

With her free arm, she reached down and found the heaviest thing she could. I could see it out of the corner of my eye, watch it as I took a punch on the bicep and flung the man who did it into a nearby table. She swung her weapon as hard as she could, losing her grip on it as it smashed into his face. The lamp broke. Oil flew everywhere and the flaming wick dropped straight to the ground.

It wasn’t just the rushes that were stained with pitch. The tables and benches were too, made from timber from the shipbreakers’ yards down by the port’s edge. In a heartbeat, the flames caught, hot and wild. They caught Bear Robes’ clothes, but like a snake he slipped out of them and started beating a path out of the budding inferno.

In all of that the girl had got free and slipped into the crowd. I might have just got myself burned alive, but at least I’d saved a barmaid. It was the very sort of heroic sacrifice all young knights dream of in morbid moments. Around me the mob now fought to get out, forgetting me in favour of survival as the fire spread like pox in a garrison brothel.

“Get out of my way,” I roared at them, picking up a burning table. The pain registered, very real in my drunken haze, and I span and hurled it at the nearest wall. The table broke; the wall cracked a little. Cursing the unexpectedly competent carpenter who’d built this tavern, I picked up a table leg and started smashing through the cracks, turning them into holes. The smoke was making it difficult to see what I was doing, making me choke, but I kicked down the last planks to reveal a new doorway.

A few people had noticed what I was doing, crawling and crouching through my exit. The smart thing would have been to join them. Instead I turned back to the mob. I grabbed one man by the collar, cursed as I marched him over, waving for others to follow. Not that they could see, but I didn’t have the energy to shout and anyway, no one would have heard me. So I kept bodily pulling them over, coughing with every damn step.

“Save yourself man,” Flaithi yelled at me. I just pushed him towards the hole and kept on looking. I sank to my hands and knees to get under the smoke, saw a body laid out cold and started crawling towards them. I grabbed the first man I saw pulled him back to safety. As someone took him, I saw it was one of Bear Robes’ men. I started laughing, which turned into another coughing fit as I went back in. I didn’t know how many more I could rescue but I had to try. Even my pain tolerance couldn’t cope with this many burns though and the smoke was starting to get to my head. I could almost feel the nightmares forming. One more, I told myself, one more then get out, go home, never ever come here again. Thinking smart at last there, I thought to myself as I sank to my belly, and it was my second last thought as I started to pass out.

The very last was to wonder why someone was grabbing my ankle.

 

[December88]

Hi,

I liked this! Won't go into detail but I thought the prose was very good - easy to read and simple, but at the same time able to immerse me in the scene quite nicely. Its tight and it works.

The only real grip that I have is that your MC seems a bit too casual about the whole thing. Yes he's drunk, so that could account for it, but the ease with which he takes on bear robes' men and then, the rest of the patrons threw me off a bit. Sure, he could just be that awesome of a fighter, but detailing the brawl a bit more would, I think, better convince me of his physical prowess and skill. Right now he gets off a bit too easy.

Otherwise, like I said, I enjoyed everything about this!

 

[HareBrain]

500th post, yaaaay!

I'm guessing you hit "post" and ran, because it came out with no line breaks between paragraphs. That makes it harder to read and can be off-putting, so I've added them, since it's a 500th post (yaaay!). If you want it without breaks for some artistic reason, let me know.

Will crit later -- having just edited it, I feel too close to it to be objective.

 

[Jo Zebedee]

Personally, I would restructure this. See comments below. As you know, I have teeth.

Aka Not my 500th Post Critique. I know DG Jones loves those sort of milestones, so this is very specifically not one of them

I'm afraid to say its a bit of a mess. I'd hoped to redraft it before asking for critique but I find myself stuck on how to redraft. In particular, what to put in the opening lines is confounding me. Do I start with the MC, the Server, the Setting...?

Thank you in advance for all feedback.

---

Everyone should have a wineshop The term tripped me up - I wasn't imagining a bar from it. close to them, one that’s warm, comfortable, and full of convivial company for when bored of drinking alone.

I had one that was close to me.Not sure this line adds, it feels a little repetitive

The centre piece of Flaithi’s charming decor was an old war axe, stuck in the wooden wall behind the bar. Most barmen like to keep a stout blunt instrument nearby for just in case. Flaithi felt the need to use an axe instead, and to keep it prominently displayed as a warning to his customers.

My fellow drinkers needed the warning. They were quite happy to settle the various disputes that arose when drinking with their knives. Flaithi was happy with that too, until they started disturbing business, at which point he intervened. Since he did that with the axe, which he kept wickedly sharp, people minded their manners - until they got drunk. And Flaithi served strong unwatered wine. They were a violent crowd, thieves and thugs, casual criminals to a man, the sort of petty scum I’d been brought up to despise. The sort of scum that, as a holy knight, I was meant to be above. I can’t say I thought like that by then though.Here is the first part of the restructuring I think would help. Show this, don't tell it. Here he's in a bar, telling us what the clientele are normally like. It's crying out for you to show this - an altracation there, stepping carefully around that group etc etc. Then, we feel the silence when it hits and we're drawn into the scene.
I tell you all this so you understand how rare it was for the room to suddenly drop silent. The nervous, waiting, scared type of silent.

The man who caused it didn’t look particularly fearsome. He was of just above average height, muscular but not stocky, and had a long, youthful looking face, made younger by being clean-shaven, with long black hair tied back. this could all be snappier. The man didn't look fearsome. Average height. Muscular, but not stocky. Clean-shaven, with long hair tied back. (Although I also question if I need all that description? But you know me and description...) Dangerous, perhaps, but no more than most here. He was clearly important; if I couldn’t tell from the robe of black bear’s fur he wore, despite the intense heat, then the four hulking men walking behind him were a dead give away.Again - here we're into tell. Show him walking through the bar, show the men with him. Show us enough that we realise he's dangerous.

I couldn’t understand why everyone around me was so shook up by him, but shook up they were. Here you're telling us. They watched him like ravens eying up a eagle, wondering whether to fly from their meal or not, everyone of them tensed. But here you've showed us the same thing. Trust your reader a little more. veryone but the serving girl right next to me.
She was petrified.Show it!!!!! What does a petrified serving girl look like? Are her eyes white, is she flicking around looking to escape, has her breathing become shallow. Your character has noticed it - so how?

Flaithi liked his servers young and pretty, because that was good for business, but more important was a certain amount of guts. So for the girl to react like that meant this man was very bad news - at least for her. Bear Robes stopped in the middle of the room and looked around until he saw her, a look of quiet satisfaction appearing on his face. The girl started to edge away and he walked straight past me, his henchmen following as best they could. It should have been comicwhy? It sounds scary., these huge men squeezing their way through the narrow gaps between the tables with everyone trying to pretend they weren’t there. I didn’t feel like laughing. He put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing when she started to squirm, and then turned her around. Nobody said anything. She looked around imploringly. Flaithi shook his head. Around me, men looked away and relaxed slightly as they realised the eagle would be flying by them.

I staggered up to my feet in front of them.

“Pardon me. But she doesn’t want to go with you.”

There was an audible intake of breath as everyone stared at me. For a moment I felt absurdly self-conscious. Some part of my mind tried to convince me I was just drunk and this was a beyond-stupid idea. The rest of me agreed but stayed there anyway. Bear Robes looked quizzically at me with dark empty eyes then shrugged.It's all very casual. Isn't he scared? Show it.

Two thugs thundering towards me. They were big, as tall as me and broader, wearing sleeveless tunics that showed off their tattoos, scars and slab-like muscles. My stomach lurched as I bent my knees - probably the drink - and swayed sideways away from a ham-like fist. Then I stepped in, hands blurring as instinct took over. The first collapsed heavily onto the pitchhyphen stained rushes as I span and kicked hard at his friend’s knee. He fell downdrop down, making strange hissing noises until I gave him a second kick for good luck. I shot Bear Robes a triumphant smile.

The rule for action scenes is cut your sentences short and keep your verbs active. So, doing that, and keeping this pretty much the same it becomes:

Two thugs thundered towards me. They were as tall as me, and broader, their sleeveless tunics showing off tattoos, scars and slab-like muscles (not sure that description adds a lot...). My stomach lurched. I bent my knees - damn the drink - and swayed away from a ham-like fist. Then I stepped in, hands blurring. Instinct took over. The first collapsed heavily onto the pitch-stained rushes. I span and kicked, hard, at his friend's knees. He fell, making strange hissing noises. I gave him a second kick for good luck and shot Bear-Robes a triumphant smile.

Can you see that's more active?

He showed no sign of emotion as he held up a very full looking pouch up and statedcomma - but this would be better as an action tage. He held the pouch up. "This for..." “This for whoever brings him down.”

sh*t, I thought, and then This is pretty slow. You're in a scene, he's in danger!

sh*t. Someone hit me in the back.... Remove the I thought and the and then - they're not needed in this sort of scene. And then, ditto the above bit. Shorten this down. Keep it moving. Don't let us get to feel things are laid back.

someone hit me in the back as the whole place boiled over. I staggered, kept my feet, ducked a wild haymaker, and then started wading through the chaos towards Bear Robes. I needed to kill him. If I did, maybe the rest of the common room would back off and not kill me. It would get the girl safe too. But mainly I needed to kill him out of sheer snarling rage. Easier said that done when a whole mob’s trying to get you; if they hadn’t impeded each other so much in their greed to get me, I wouldn’t have lasted three seconds.Show it!!!!!

It hurtwhat did? Precision is good in this sort of scene, in a distant way, and then I just went back and highlighted your and thens. There are a lot and they mostly slow things down. Question if you need them. (I'm sounding like Yoda, I fear. Listen you should. Or not. ) I forgot the pain as I beat a way clear to one of the tables. I jumped up, then on to the next one, kicking the nearest man into his fellows’ ways as I bellowed incoherently. I ploughed into the next mob, knocking them away from me as against the odds, I got closer and closer.His two remaining guards moved to shield him, tracking me with wild, nervous eyes. Black Robes didn’t look nervous though. He just looked amused as he watched me.Again - show this!

He should have been watching the girl.Nice line.

With her free arm, she reached down and - could be dropped? found the heaviest thing she could. I could see it - a little bit of filtering? It could probably go out of the corner of my eye, watch it as I took a punch on the bicep and flung the man who did it into a nearby table. She swung her weapon as hard as she could, losing her grip on it as it smashed into his face. The lamp broke. Oil flew everywhere and the flaming wick dropped straight to the ground.

It wasn’t just the rushes that were stained with pitch. The tables and benches were too, made from timber from the shipbreakers’ yards down by the port’s edge. In a heartbeat, the flames caught, hot and wild. They caught Bear Robes’ clothes, but like a snake he slipped out of them and started beating a path out of the budding inferno.

In all of that the girl had got free and slipped into the crowd. I might have just got myself burned alive, but at least I’d saved a barmaid. It was the very sort of heroic sacrifice all young knights dream of in morbid moments. Around me the mob now fought to get out, forgetting me in favour of survival as the fire spread like pox in a garrison brothel.

“Get out of my way,” I roared at them, picking up a burning table. The pain registered, very real in my drunken haze, and I span and hurled it at the nearest wall. The table broke; the wall cracked a little. Cursing the unexpectedly competent carpenter who’d built this tavern, I picked up a table leg and started smashing through the cracks, turning them into holes. The smoke was making it difficult to see what I was doing, making me choke, but I kicked down the last planks to reveal a new doorway.This section here flows better. Look at the verbs you're using - all much more active.

A few people had noticed what I was doing, crawling and crouching through my exit. The smart thing would have been to join them. Instead I turned back to the mob. I grabbed one man by the collar, cursed as I marched him over, waving for others to follow. Not that they could see, but I didn’t have the energy to shout and anyway, no one would have heard me. So I kept bodily pulling them over, coughing with every damn step.

“Save yourself man,” Flaithi yelled at me. I just pushed him towards the hole and kept on looking. I sank to my hands and knees to get under the smoke, saw a body laid out cold and started crawling towards them. I grabbed the first man I saw pulled him back to safety. As someone took him, I saw it was one of Bear Robes’ men. I started laughing, which turned into another coughing fit as I went back in. I didn’t know how many more I could rescue but I had to try. Even my pain tolerance couldn’t cope with this many burns though and the smoke was starting to get to my head. I could almost feel the nightmares forming. One more, I told myself, one more then get out, go home, never ever come here again. Thinking smart at last there, I thought to myself as I sank to my belly, and it was my second last thought as I started to pass out.

The very last was to wonder why someone was grabbing my ankle.

Lots of bold, sorry - but it's mostly saying the same thing. More show, less tell and keep things active in action scenes. Good luck with it! JO

 

[VinceK]

Can't add much to Jo's comprehensive review, apart from a suggestion regarding the opening.

Everyone should have a wineshop close to them, one that’s warm, comfortable, and full of convivial company for when bored of drinking alone.
I had one that was close to me.
The centre piece of Flaithi’s charming decor was an old war axe, stuck in the wooden wall behind the bar. Most barmen like to keep a stout blunt instrument nearby for just in case. Flaithi felt the need to use an axe instead, and to keep it prominently displayed as a warning to his customers.

Everyone should have a wineshop close to them, warm, comfortable, full of convivial company. Mine had a huge bloody axe hanging up behind the bar.

 

[Wruter]

This reminded me a lot of the fantasy PI Thraxas books by (I think) Martin Scott - hopefully you count this as a good thing.

What worked best for me was the congenial, informal narrative voice - the opening line captured this and quickly established the setting.

From there I would have liked more suggestion of a conflict or a problem in the opening paragraphs as opposed to purely background passages. Even just an addition to the first paragraph of something like, 'Of course, sometimes the wrong company could get you into trouble,' or some such would create more tension.

Unless the axe in the third paragraph is actually going to be used it could easily be omitted altogether. The three sentences beginning 'They were a violent crowd..." are where it starts to get interesting, and tells us something of who the main character is.

 

[The Big Peat]

Harebrain, thank you *very* much for adding the line breaks. I've no idea why I forgot those but very bad of me.

And thank you to everyone else too. It is definitely a tell-y start, except for the bit about the character's inner thoughts, where I forget to tell you altogether Particular thanks to Jo for the line by line.

Wruter, I haven't even heard of those books. Clearly I have more reading material ahead of me

 

[HareBrain]

I added a few more breaks I missed earlier.

Everyone should have a wineshop close to them, one that’s warm, comfortable, and full of convivial company for when bored of drinking alone.

I had one that was close to me. [The placing of this on its own paragraph suggests it's a twist or reversal of the previous one, but it isn't. In fact you could omit it altogether.]

[...]

I tell you all this so you understand how rare it was for the room to suddenly drop silent. [I think the story's start in general is a bit heavy on setup and risks attention wandering. You might consider starting with "You understand how rare it was ..." and feed in the fact that it's a wine-shop etc in the next couple of paras] The nervous, waiting, scared type of silent.

Apart from that, and a few early-draft things you'll probably pick up yourself next time around, I liked it, and its voice. Possibly it went on a bit towards the end, only because I'd like to know from early on that it's going to contain something more than brawling. If you could get to the ankle-grabbing a couple of paragraphs earlier, I'd be happier. Also, I'd question the realism of the whole place bursting into flames like that. If it is in fact realistic, and furniture really was often soaked in pitch and really would catch light so quickly, then fine, though you then have the problem of ignorant readers not giving you the credence you deserve. I'm not sure what you could do about that.

 

[Gonk the Insane]

Aka Not my 500th Post Critique.

Congratulations on not making that milestone

I'm afraid to say its a bit of a mess.

I liked it and enjoyed reading it. I wouldn't say it's a mess though - I think you could improve it by sharpening the focus and stripping some extraneous bits out (which Jo covered pretty succintly).
For me though, the first few paragraphs nearly pulled me out, and it wasn't until the line about the girl being petrified that I really got properly engaged. After that, things really kicked into gear and the pacing increased as things kicked off.

In particular, what to put in the opening lines is confounding me.

Well, as a different take on it, how about starting at a different point? How about killing those first few paragraphs and opening here:

She was petrified.

It would probably mean re-writing the following section a little bit, maybe inserting a line or two from the carved-out section above to get across the essentials as you go.
I had a quick read-through first thing this morning but didn't have time to post before I left, but the line that stayed with me was that one and it felt like a more natural starting point, one that fitted with the tone of the rest of the piece. In my head it would go something like this:

She was petrified.
They were a violent crowd in Flaithi's wineshop. That was why he kept an old war axe, stuck in the wooden wall behind the bar.

and then build a little from there as it kicks orrrf. Just a suggestion, mind.

Aside from that, I think it's just a few tweaks here and there. Nice work Big Peat, I really enjoyed reading it.

 

[The Big Peat]

Hrm. Tell the truth, I'm not sure how realistic it is. It made sense to me that they'd have furniture made from former ships and that as such would be fairly flammable; I've no idea whether people actually did that in the middle ages. If I change the focus of the fire spreading to be more about spilled alcohol and lamps, would that change your opinion on the realism of it? *toddles off to do some research*

Gonk - Thanks. I had been thinking about starting with the girl; it does seem the obvious actual focus of the scene.

Anyone else have a thought on the starting point?

 

[HareBrain]

I had been thinking about starting with the girl; it does seem the obvious actual focus of the scene.

I'd be a bit wary of having the very first line "pretty girl in jeopardy" as though you expect that itself to be the hook. Personally I'd want a bit more lead-up to establish the voice first.

 

[Jo Zebedee]

I think the start is fine - it just needs to show more. I might have mentioned that.

As to the other - fire was a huge risk and precautions would have been taken against it.

 

[Phyrebrat]

Hi Peat,

I mostly liked it all. The biggest sell was the voice and I think you could go even more in that irreverent direction, but then I'm not sure on what you're going for; laughs-comedy or action-comedy with this character. In any case the title of the thread deserves a book deal on its own.

I won't comment on anything to do with grammar or word choice because from what I've seen of your writing on Chrons and on your blog you have no problems there, but a few things that occurred to me:

• About three-quarters through I was getting a bit actioned-out and I think it could be tightened up by losing some of the fightiness and details. I'm convinced though, that as a first draft, you'd get all this tightened up later.
• You use 'then' quite a lot. I think in an action scene it hampers things.
• I'm in two minds here, because I know it's consistent with the style and voice, but I thought it might be helpful (as an exercise if nothing else) to rewrite the opening with a show-not-tell bias. Thing is, I feel the telling works okay in this as it's consistent with his traditional story-telling character, so it may rob that feel.
  
• On the second read-through I was disappointed that it wasn't an actual wineshop. I had a laugh thinking how this would play out in a nouveau-riche yuppie kind of setting
• The whole thing about the axe in the wood wall is a wonderful image and I think you could mine it a bit for anecdotal showing.
• I'm assuming he's pretty invincible - a sort of fantasy Han Solo - and that the story would carry on in that vein.
• There weren't any ghosts and no demonic entities. Basically every story needs one

Congratulations on your unmilestone post.

pH

 

[The Big Peat]

That's the thing. This is the sort of cheap hellhole where the owners don't care about the precautions and neither do the lords because they figure only the poor people will die. Need to make of this clearer.

Quick question on the Then thing - totally agree that most of them are unneeded but, as a general thing, what word do people use when they find themselves repeating 'then'? 'Next'? Maybe I'm being dense but there doesn't seem to be a natural substitute. Guess I'll have to be good and stop overusing it then

And PB, if I have a ghost/demonic entity, does that make it a horror story and readable to your refined tastes?

 

[Gonk the Insane]

totally agree that most of them are unneeded but, as a general thing, what word do people use when they find themselves repeating 'then'?

Personally I didn't notice them, but then that may be because I do exactly the same thing.

I'm not sure there is a natural substitute for "then" (although I'd also love to know if there is). I'd hazard that in some situtations it's the natural word choice with no easy alternative. However, if it's appearing frequently it might be possible to either omit the word altogether or to rewrite the sentence to avoid it. I could only find it once (I seem blind to the word):

then someone hit me in the back as the whole place boiled over. I staggered, kept my feet, ducked a wild haymaker, and then started wading through the chaos towards Bear Robes.

I think you could* drop the 2nd "then" so the last clause becomes: ", and started wading through the chaos".

*Although personally I think it works just fine in that example

 

[Brian G Turner]

You've got a few minor editing mistakes, so watch out for those, ie:

Two thugs thundering towards me.

sh*t, I thought,

The opening isn't as strong as it could be. You refer to it as a "wineshop" but it's clearly a "wine bar". I'm not clear on what context you're going for either - period or modern setting? I honestly can't tell, because a "wineshop" or "wine bar" would be modern - its period name is "tavern".

You also spend a lot of time describing the setting and providing a background on the cast - all except for your main character. We know absolutely nothing about him - not even his name. Really, you want to drop something in early on both the name and something on context - no big explanations required, but something that connect both the setting and situation to your character.

Also, you've only one woman mentioned - and already she's both Decoration and Victim. This could be a huge turn-off for women readers at the very least.

Which is a shame because you're clearly showing a sense of imagination, pace, and character - just needs some key tweaks - so don't blow it all on silly errors.

2c.

 

[TonyHarmsworth]

I had the same difficulty reading until it got to the petrified girl, but then it was fine.

Regarding 'then', 'and' is a good substitute or just omit some and start a new sentence as one thing inevitably follows another.

Everyone should have a wineshop close to them, warm, comfortable, full of convivial company. Mine had a huge bloody axe hanging up behind the bar.

This is a great idea and it does sound more like a wine bar than a wine shop.

The only thing which annoyed me was the use of 'bored of' in the first sentence, unless you are trying to write from the perspective of a teenager. It is 'bored with'. Trouble is the 'of' version is becoming an epidemic even in BBC circles so it probably doesn't matter. Just annoyed me. I was recently told (on Wattpad) that my very first sentence was so bad the person stopped reading. It was "From where had it come?" I was told it should have been "Where had it come from?" despite the damned preposition rule. LOL. The sentence is now gone completely. So, we each need to judge how important grammar is to us in scene setting and whether to adhere to the rules.

Anyway. Overall left me wanting more.

 

[Dan Jones]

Hey Peater, just comming to this now, and I'm slightly inebriated, so you know what I say will be of high quality.

I liked it. The voice reminds me of Joe Abercrombie at his most insouciant, and it has a throwaway, gumshoe quality that you're clearly aiming for, so that's definitely a tick in the right box.

It rattles along at a fair old lick, though I think some of the detail in the melee scene could be stripped out so the pace is even quicker and we get an even better idea of the sharp, staccato, nonsensical rhythm of a fight, especially one as chaotic as a bar-room brawl. I get the sense he knows a little too much of what's going on around himm, and in a scene that ends up this chaotic, I'm not sure this would be the case. I'd like to read more about the sounds and stink and sights of what's going on. You acknowledge it's a bit tell-y, so perhaps you'll rectify this, and I'd like to see more through the eyes of the character what's going on here - that would make it quicker and more fun, I suspevct.

Plus, more detail about the wine. Where is it grown? Is it a frost-resistant variety? Is it bottle-conditioned for carbonation? I think we should be told.

 

[The Big Peat]

Hey Peater, just comming to this now, and I'm slightly inebriated, so you know what I say will be of high quality.

As always.

I liked it. The voice reminds me of Joe Abercrombie at his most insouciant, and it has a throwaway, gumshoe quality that you're clearly aiming for, so that's definitely a tick in the right box.

Hmm. Maybe you're a bit more than slightly inebriated...

It rattles along at a fair old lick, though I think some of the detail in the melee scene could be stripped out so the pace is even quicker and we get an even better idea of the sharp, staccato, nonsensical rhythm of a fight, especially one as chaotic as a bar-room brawl. I get the sense he knows a little too much of what's going on around himm, and in a scene that ends up this chaotic, I'm not sure this would be the case.

To an extent this is deliberate, to try and emphasise that he is a veteran and can keep track of more than most. However, since that subtle detail will go missing (unless called out) and there's a little too much going on this scene already, I think you may be right. If quite drunk.

I'd like to read more about the sounds and stink and sights of what's going on. You acknowledge it's a bit tell-y, so perhaps you'll rectify this, and I'd like to see more through the eyes of the character what's going on here - that would make it quicker and more fun, I suspevct.

I'm currently mulling this one around but I'm going to try and write a few different starts to this - some telly, some showy, some starting with the girl, some with the place, some with the narrator - and see what people think.

Plus, more detail about the wine. Where is it grown? Is it a frost-resistant variety? Is it bottle-conditioned for carbonation? I think we should be told.

Most sensible thing you've said all post tbh. It's a fairly low quality plonk grown along the nearby quite hot sea coast that in Earth terms would be best compared to cheap Monastrell - high alcohol, high tannin, very meaty and not that pleasant. So not frost resistant - indeed this currently nameless country has little need for frost resistant wines as cultural differences mean people drink mainly beer and cider in the north where the climate begins to trend towards being frosts. Glass bottles are unknown with most drinks being transported in casks and clay bottles being used if sold in smaller amount.

Not sure what type of wood the casks would be yet though, you've got me there.

 

[The Big Peat]

Right-o savvy sages of said spiffy scribing spot -

I have deliberated, cogitated and digested and now I regurgitate. I have here two alternate openings. Word count wise they take us to the "She was petrified" line, give or take. 350-ish words each.

And of course I seek your feedback.

Before I commence, one bit of feedback that I haven't really acted on is the Show > Tell. I thought long and hard and couldn't come up with a suitably satisfactory way of doing the Showing without it basically just being men the reader doesn't know being macho at each other without a good reason. Personally I dislike that sort of opening quite a lot. If anyone can think of a good way of doing it, I'm more ears than Dumbo. Yes, I know, given those biases I've possibly picked the wrong opening. In any case - the advice is not being ignored, its simply I'm not finding a way to put it into action.

---

Opening 1

Everyone should have a good tavern close to them. Somewhere warm, comfortable, and full of convivial company for when bored of drinking alone.

Flaithi’s succeeded at being close.

I’d gone in there three hours ago for a jug to take home. Now I was hunched over the crude pitch-stained table and my empty mug, being ignored by the servers. Not that I blamed them. The crowd was crammed together, elbow to elbow and nose to nose, and half of them bawling for more wine. I was too polite for that so I didn’t get served.

One more drink, I promised myself, and I’d go. I could see Flaithi hovering by the old war axe he had stuck in the wooden wall behind the bar. Most barmen like to keep a stout stick hidden for just in case. Flaithi felt the need to use an axe instead, and to keep it prominently displayed as a warning to his customers.

Soon they would be too drunk to heed it. I’d seen enough violence in my years to know that. That was the problem with the strong bitter wine he sold so cheaply. It attracted many of the meanest and stupidest thugs to be found in the Rat Quarter, which is to say in all of Skibhair, in all of Talu Bheith. It was strong and cheap enough to make me sit among them in this miserable little shack.

At least I could barely see it; the only light came from a few oil lamps and the one narrow door, the fire place unused in this scorching spring. Unfortunately my nose was not so protected. It stunk of stale wine, rotten straw mats and vomit. This place was bad for your health. My fellow drinkers didn’t care. I didn’t care, especially when someone with a jug was finally coming my way.

I held out my mug without and sticky wine flowed all over my wrist. I turned to see a woman stumbling away, mouth hanging open in shock. At first I worried she was scared of my scarred face and hulking frame - but she wasn’t looking at me.

---

Opening 2

A wise soldier once told me to expect trouble whenever the animals fell silent.

The sudden hush brought the words to mind. Animals wasn’t a kind description of my drinking companions mind, but not unfitting. The man besides me had been bragging about breaking a tanner’s fingers only a few seconds before. His friend had livid knife-scars on both cheeks. Now they looked just like crows who’ve spotted an eagle circling above them.

I looked up from my wine, curious as to the cause of the disturbance. I came to Flaithi’s tavern to ignore the world. The last thing I needed was the world coming in here to tear the place up. It was a rancid hole, with uncomfortably warped pitch-stained benches that still stunk of the sea and last night’s drunks, but it had its own sort of honesty and the cheapest strongest wine in the Rat Quarter.

There were two giant slabs of scowling manhood stood in the door, blocking the light and plunging us into shadowy gloom. Whoever had built this tavern had been too cheap for windows or more than one door. The men besides me weren’t looking at the thugs though, but at the man in front of them.

He didn’t look anything much to me, save for the thick black bear’s pelt he wore despite the day’s heat, but I’d seen kings treated with less fear. To these men mind, he was the next nearest thing. Only a chieftain of one of the great criminal clans would be able to wear a pelt that rich down here without being stabbed and robbed.

Bear Pelt slowly walked towards the bar, looking around him for something. He was a graceful fellow; he’d have wonderful footwork in a fight. He stopped in the centre of the room and stared pointedly at Flaithi. Normally my generous host always stayed within arm’s reach of the axe he kept wedged into the wall, ready for cutting short any nonsense. I’d seen him chop off someone’s hand before. Now he very carefully moved as far away from it as possible.

Something rustled behind me and I glanced down to see one of the serving girls hiding.

---

Beyond the obvious of trying to get your attention and making it clear something will happen, the two things I'm trying to do are:

1) Establish that this is a rough nasty dive, in a rough nasty part of town, and that its a complete and total fire hazard.

2) Establish that the narrator is a little amused by the place, a little appalled, but mainly apathetic about it and its dangers; I'm trying to work in a few more hints about him, but those are the main things about him and the situation.

Thank you all again.