Inari Writer
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Feb 11, 2017
- Messages
- 119
Hi all.
I'm writing a novel at the moment and there is a particular scene I've just started writing that I really need to get right. It's one of the oddest parts of the whole story and I need it to flow well, to be interesting and to seem somehow plausible even though it is complete and utter fantasy.
So I thought I'd submit an extract from the first draft of the scene for your consideration.
The scene takes place in a sort of underworld called 'England Underground' or 'The Land of the Buried Dead'. It is ruled over by the ghosts/spirits of dead or lost places.
The novel itself is an Urban Fantasy about an immortal fox spirit. At the time of this story she has been around for a long time and lived in many places but her Japanese origins still shine through from time to time. Which is why she refers to the spirits depicted in this scene as 'Kami'. Another name for them would be Genius Loci.
Any and all criticism is welcome but I'm particularly interested in the following things -
- Grammar and punctuation. Particularly sentence structure and whether or not I'm using commas correctly. I've taken one or two liberties with sentence length to make the narration sound more like speech but mostly I'm trying to follow grammatical rules while making the sentences flow as well as I can.
- The narrator's voice. Is she engaging? Can you see her personality shining through, (as far as is possible in this small extract)?
- The descriptions of the Kami. Are they interesting? Do they catch your imagination? Is Kami an appropriate name for them?
Extract begins under this line
The Herald was the first truly bright thing I had seen since entering England Underground. He wore an overlapping series of steel plates that had been polished to a mirror shine. His face was obscured by a silver death-mask that looked like the face of a beautiful but terribly sad youth. His hands were encased in silver-chased metal gauntlets, even his boots were metal. With no breath and no scent to give him away I couldn’t even swear that the Herald had a body underneath his armour.
He said nothing, only gestured us to follow him up the stone stairs and immediately began to clank his way up them.
We followed him.
We followed him for a long time.
Long enough that my legs began to burn from the effort and Darren began to sway a little and lean more heavily against my side.
I thought about leaving him tucked against the wall, safe and sound while I had my audience with the lords of the Buried Dead. But something might happen to him while I was gone, maybe something messy, possibly something permanent.
Best to keep him where I could see him. My boss was fond of him after all.
At last the steps ended and we emerged onto the flat top of a stone tower. It was at least four stories high and perfectly circular. I would have considered it a wonder of engineering if I’d thought that it had been made by human hands.
Actually I’d have preferred the tower if it had been made by mortals; they would have remembered to put in a guard rail or some battlements. Or at the very least put up some kind of sign to helpfully remind people that falling off a building could be bad for their health. I stepped towards the edge so that I could look out from it, but tightened my grip on Darren’s arm in case a surge of drunken bravado sent him too far forward. It was a long way down with nothing to break his fall except the ground. And this was not the soft and forgiving kind of ground.
At least the view was impressive.
The Great Court of England Underground was a vast chamber carved out of raw bedrock. The distant ceiling was as smooth as polished marble, though the slender pillars that supported it looked like stalactites which had grown down to the floor over many thousands of years. Large braziers jutted out of the pillars at irregular intervals, burning with pale ghost-fire.
The titanic figures of Kami sat or strode amongst the pillars, following their own inscrutable purposes. Each one was the spirit of a place that had died or that had changed so much that it was as good as dead. Roman forts and forgotten castles, abandoned settlements and burned out buildings.
These were not creatures of flesh or even of bone; their bodies reflected the places they had once been, cut stone and fertile earth, broad timbers and bricks of clay, hot iron and belching smoke.
I saw one figure made of glass and steel, with strips of fine fabric draped over its shoulders and a shuddering mass of clockwork housed in its transparent chest. I thought it might be the spirit of the Great Exhibition.
The Herald interrupted my thoughts by moving past us and sweeping a gleaming steel arm towards three particularly immense Kami that sat or lounged on three stone seats directly opposite us.
When the Herald spoke his voice was not muted, it was high and brassy like the tolling of a well-polished bell.
“The Law of Three is in effect so three judges will hear this case. Let their names be known.”
He pointed to each Kami in turn.
“Old Sarum.” Giant though it was this Judge radiated the kind of quiet and ascetic dignity that I identified with mountain hermits and isolated holy men. It looked something like a king and something like the bones of a long dead city; it was made of white and grey stone clothed in grassy earth, its face was wise and immobile as a statue’s and a ring of battlements jutted out of the top of its skull, like a crown. Its throne was made of the same stone as its body, which gave the disturbing impression that it was trapped in this place for all eternity. Perhaps it was.
“Bridges Fallen.” This Kami looked something like a giant human torso with arms and a head but no legs. Its arms were long expanses of shaped timber and cracked wooden planks while its central mass was mostly chunks of cut rock partially covered by a scaly mass of flagstones and cobblestones. Two metal struts stuck out of its neck in a V-shape, framing a constantly shifting face of smoke and dust. Its eyes were embers. It sat on the skeleton of a throne; a series of rocky struts that formed the outline of a giant chair.
“Coria.” Of all the assembled Judges this was only one that seemed to be enjoying itself, or even of being capable of enjoying itself. Instead of a throne it reclined on a great stone couch. It held a winter-blasted cherry tree in one stony hand. Occasionally it would lower the tree to its mouth like a bunch of grapes and bite off a few branches, displaying glinting steel teeth as it chewed the treat. Its worn and pitted body was made of packed flint and concrete, striped here and there with rows of tiles. Brightly painted mosaic tiles adorned the front of its head, forming the picture of a human man’s face. It wore the rusted remains of a great iron helmet which looked to me like it had once belonged to a Roman legionary.
I'm writing a novel at the moment and there is a particular scene I've just started writing that I really need to get right. It's one of the oddest parts of the whole story and I need it to flow well, to be interesting and to seem somehow plausible even though it is complete and utter fantasy.
So I thought I'd submit an extract from the first draft of the scene for your consideration.
The scene takes place in a sort of underworld called 'England Underground' or 'The Land of the Buried Dead'. It is ruled over by the ghosts/spirits of dead or lost places.
The novel itself is an Urban Fantasy about an immortal fox spirit. At the time of this story she has been around for a long time and lived in many places but her Japanese origins still shine through from time to time. Which is why she refers to the spirits depicted in this scene as 'Kami'. Another name for them would be Genius Loci.
Any and all criticism is welcome but I'm particularly interested in the following things -
- Grammar and punctuation. Particularly sentence structure and whether or not I'm using commas correctly. I've taken one or two liberties with sentence length to make the narration sound more like speech but mostly I'm trying to follow grammatical rules while making the sentences flow as well as I can.
- The narrator's voice. Is she engaging? Can you see her personality shining through, (as far as is possible in this small extract)?
- The descriptions of the Kami. Are they interesting? Do they catch your imagination? Is Kami an appropriate name for them?
Extract begins under this line
The Herald was the first truly bright thing I had seen since entering England Underground. He wore an overlapping series of steel plates that had been polished to a mirror shine. His face was obscured by a silver death-mask that looked like the face of a beautiful but terribly sad youth. His hands were encased in silver-chased metal gauntlets, even his boots were metal. With no breath and no scent to give him away I couldn’t even swear that the Herald had a body underneath his armour.
He said nothing, only gestured us to follow him up the stone stairs and immediately began to clank his way up them.
We followed him.
We followed him for a long time.
Long enough that my legs began to burn from the effort and Darren began to sway a little and lean more heavily against my side.
I thought about leaving him tucked against the wall, safe and sound while I had my audience with the lords of the Buried Dead. But something might happen to him while I was gone, maybe something messy, possibly something permanent.
Best to keep him where I could see him. My boss was fond of him after all.
At last the steps ended and we emerged onto the flat top of a stone tower. It was at least four stories high and perfectly circular. I would have considered it a wonder of engineering if I’d thought that it had been made by human hands.
Actually I’d have preferred the tower if it had been made by mortals; they would have remembered to put in a guard rail or some battlements. Or at the very least put up some kind of sign to helpfully remind people that falling off a building could be bad for their health. I stepped towards the edge so that I could look out from it, but tightened my grip on Darren’s arm in case a surge of drunken bravado sent him too far forward. It was a long way down with nothing to break his fall except the ground. And this was not the soft and forgiving kind of ground.
At least the view was impressive.
The Great Court of England Underground was a vast chamber carved out of raw bedrock. The distant ceiling was as smooth as polished marble, though the slender pillars that supported it looked like stalactites which had grown down to the floor over many thousands of years. Large braziers jutted out of the pillars at irregular intervals, burning with pale ghost-fire.
The titanic figures of Kami sat or strode amongst the pillars, following their own inscrutable purposes. Each one was the spirit of a place that had died or that had changed so much that it was as good as dead. Roman forts and forgotten castles, abandoned settlements and burned out buildings.
These were not creatures of flesh or even of bone; their bodies reflected the places they had once been, cut stone and fertile earth, broad timbers and bricks of clay, hot iron and belching smoke.
I saw one figure made of glass and steel, with strips of fine fabric draped over its shoulders and a shuddering mass of clockwork housed in its transparent chest. I thought it might be the spirit of the Great Exhibition.
The Herald interrupted my thoughts by moving past us and sweeping a gleaming steel arm towards three particularly immense Kami that sat or lounged on three stone seats directly opposite us.
When the Herald spoke his voice was not muted, it was high and brassy like the tolling of a well-polished bell.
“The Law of Three is in effect so three judges will hear this case. Let their names be known.”
He pointed to each Kami in turn.
“Old Sarum.” Giant though it was this Judge radiated the kind of quiet and ascetic dignity that I identified with mountain hermits and isolated holy men. It looked something like a king and something like the bones of a long dead city; it was made of white and grey stone clothed in grassy earth, its face was wise and immobile as a statue’s and a ring of battlements jutted out of the top of its skull, like a crown. Its throne was made of the same stone as its body, which gave the disturbing impression that it was trapped in this place for all eternity. Perhaps it was.
“Bridges Fallen.” This Kami looked something like a giant human torso with arms and a head but no legs. Its arms were long expanses of shaped timber and cracked wooden planks while its central mass was mostly chunks of cut rock partially covered by a scaly mass of flagstones and cobblestones. Two metal struts stuck out of its neck in a V-shape, framing a constantly shifting face of smoke and dust. Its eyes were embers. It sat on the skeleton of a throne; a series of rocky struts that formed the outline of a giant chair.
“Coria.” Of all the assembled Judges this was only one that seemed to be enjoying itself, or even of being capable of enjoying itself. Instead of a throne it reclined on a great stone couch. It held a winter-blasted cherry tree in one stony hand. Occasionally it would lower the tree to its mouth like a bunch of grapes and bite off a few branches, displaying glinting steel teeth as it chewed the treat. Its worn and pitted body was made of packed flint and concrete, striped here and there with rows of tiles. Brightly painted mosaic tiles adorned the front of its head, forming the picture of a human man’s face. It wore the rusted remains of a great iron helmet which looked to me like it had once belonged to a Roman legionary.
). You write well, some really nice descriptions and great ideas (really like the ghosts of dead places), which is all very engaging. Just quickly, without knowing what Kami specifically means in japanese (I assume) if anything, then I think it's a good name for them, no need to change.
