Quartz-Silicon Rat

[Edoc'sil]

I finally reached the minimum of 30 posts to allow me to get critiqued here, I've been waiting for this moment for a while now. Now I can post and steal all your good ideas, mwahahaha. Nah but in seriousness, I am open to any and all critiques dont pull your punches, hit me where it hurts.

I wrote this today so it might be a little rough, it's the opening for a new serial im going to try get off the ground. Hope it hits in the right places, the title is a work in progress, so any thoughts there would be appreciated. Apart from that just tell me what you liked and didn't like. This story is quite heavily based off something else, you sci-fi aficionados out there may spot it, it's fairly obvious. Anyway without further ado:

Quartz-Silicon Rat

He walked with that nonchalant swagger that only comes from the criminally unself-aware. He was aware though; this was a carefully crafted persona. The persona to walk into a bank and steal the bank itself. He passed the general population who gave his black and white chequered suit barely a second glance, just as his steel blue eyes slid right off them.

He was watching carefully, timing his steps that clicked on the white marble of the trading floor, until he was right in the place he needed to be. The very centre of the great Bank of NationalCite Corp. The bank with the biggest stock of physical currency on the whole planet. In his right hand was a shiny metal briefcase, with his plastic smile he really looked the part of the stupid smarmy businessman.

He casually flicked open the briefcase and from it tumbled twelve small spherical metal balls. They each rolled of their own volition; weaving between the legs of the unaware crowd until they were arranged in a large circle around the chequered man, encompassing the oval logo of NationalCite Corp.

Once he had given a few quick glances to assure they were in place, the man flicked another button on the briefcase. This didn’t seem to have any effect at first but if one was watching carefully, as he was, they would see that on the screens displaying the days stock trades, something very strange was happening. All of the stocks were plummeting downwards, where before there had been a mixture of reds and greens, as stocks were traded upwards and downwards. Suddenly they were dropping at an alarming rate! The people milling about on the trading floor didn’t notice at first, too engrossed in their personal communicators.

A few savvy traders keeping their eyes on the overall market rates began hysterically shouting into their machines. This caught the attention of the crowd, all at once the uproar began. People started surging towards the tellers at the far side of the room, or dashing towards video phones on the walls. The chequered man stood calmly amongst this maelstrom, looking patiently at his watch. With one final look around him, to be sure that the centre was devoid of humans. He pressed the final red button on the briefcase.

There was a fantastical explosion, black clouds flew into the sky and rubble rained down in the room. The chequered man had gone, fallen through the hole where there had once been the squeezed planet logo of NationalCite Corp.

The man dusted off his suit, left the briefcase where he was standing and walked calmly forwards. If one could listen over the screaming, and the occasional crash of rubble, you would hear the man counting his steps under his breath. He came to a supposedly important number, stopped and then bent down, as if to tie his shoe. When he straightened up, he had in his hand what looked like a small metal pen, he clicked the nub.

In front of him appeared a wall of laser force, completely shielding the corridor from further intrusion. He forced the pen-like object into the wall with a gentle push. It began reflecting the lasers back to their origins. There was another, smaller, explosion and the emitters fizzled out leaving the corridor free to walk down.

As the forcefield went down, the chequered man began taking fire. He ducked quickly, pulled on a gasmask, taken from his suit, and threw several small balls down the corridor. The offending shooters quickly dropped unconscious, victims to the invisible odourless gas that was now venting from the spheres. The man picked up his pen from the floor and started off again at the same leisurely pace.

He was basically strutting now, if he wasn’t wearing the gasmask you could almost imagine him whistling as he walked. He came up to the huge black vault door, this section of the vault was something completely physical, smart of the bankers. You can’t hack into physical doors and the sheer size and weight of it meant it wasn’t practical to use explosives, without bringing the entire building above it down.

This may have proved a problem to people of even expert skill, but not to our chequered thief. He ripped a button off his suit and stuck it on the door. He turned his face away and there was a brilliantly bright light for about sixty seconds. During that time, the bank had started to realise what was going on and there was the thundering sound of many footsteps. The man chanced a quick look backwards and pressed the nub of the pen again, there was a humming noise and a flickering of the forcefield as it started up again.

The guards bristling with weapons and armour, saw the man clearly at the end of the corridor and their two comrades slumped beside him. They ran full charge, slamming into the invisible forcefield of their own design. They began thumping on it and one got on his radio to tell the higher ups that a thief was about to breach the vault.

The button having done its work the chequered man removed it, placing it back on his suit. Then from his sleeve he removed a long plastic wire that folded out to become twice the length of his arm. He placed this wire into the hole burned through the door, and began fiddling with it in a complex pattern.

After a few seconds there was a definitive click, the thief ripped off his gas mask. Flashed a grin at the guards still thumping fruitlessly on the forcefield and swung open the giant vault door.

 

[autodidact]

Generally speaking, it's a bit passive, unclear in places, and overall It seems very rushed.

I think it's quicker to rewrite it rather than critique it, as such, so here's my attempt. I hope you don't think I'm being rude. That's not my intention.

Here we go:

He approached the bank with a swagger he knew would fool most people into thinking he was arrogant, or at least over confident. A man of naivety. A fool. But he wasn't. His was a persona carefully crafted to allow him to walk into the bank unnoticed. His objective— to steal the bank itself!

His suit was chequered, black and white. And combined with a shiny metal briefcase and a practised smile, he exuded the carefully crafted manner of a typical fat-cat business man. He’d chosen his image well. Nobody gave him a second glance. So far, so good.

He counted the sharp tap of his shoes as he crossed the white marble trading floor until he stopped precisely where he wanted to be— the centre of the trading floor within the prestigious Bank of NationalCite Corp. The bank with the biggest stock of physical currency on the whole planet.

He set down his briefcase and opened it. Out tumbled twelve one inch metal spheres. They rolled away to form a circle that surrounded him and the feature his feet had precisely chosen. The oval logo of NationalCite Corp. Nobody took any notice, their attention elsewhere.

He pushed a hidden button on his briefcase and studied the screens that displayed the day’s stock trades. One by one, each stock began to descend, then fall, then plummet, their numbers telling a tragic tale for many. But not for him. People continued to mill about on the trading floor. Then, almost as one, they switched their attention away from their personal communicators and toward the screens that bore witness to the ruin the investors were about to suffer.

The experienced traders understood almost immediately, and their manner changed from that of free-market competitors to the hysteria of panic. "Sell! Sell! Bloody sell!" came the shouts, "Cancel that last order, for God’s sake," shouted another, their trading machines bearing the brunt of their desperation. Then everybody else glanced from the screens to the traders, and the uproar began. A wave of people surged towards the tellers at the far side of the room, and another wave bore down on video phones by the walls. Within seconds everything was swamped as the crowd churned into an uproar the bank had never seen, and might never live to see again.

He stood unmoved in the eye of the storm. This was to be expected. He checked his watch, waited a few more seconds as the logo became free of the crowd, then pressed a second button on his briefcase.

A huge explosion surrounded him causing a black cloud to spread everywhere, and a hail of rubble fell from the roof. And then he was gone— through the hole where the NationalCite Corp logo once stood.

Unperturbed, he dusted off his suit, left the briefcase where it had fallen, and walked down the corridor he was now in. The noise of the chaos above grew distant as he whispered a second count for each step. He stopped at a particular number, bent down, and pulled a hidden pen-like object from his shoe. He pressed its nub.

A laser force wall appeared directly in front of him blocking his path. He touched the wall with the tip of his 'pen' and gave a gentle push, and the laser beams began to retreat. Then they were gone, and a series of muffled bangs followed, one for each wall laser, and his way was clear.

Almost immediately, bullets ricocheted past him! He ducked, dropped his pen, drew a gas mask from his suit and slipped it over his face, before pulling more spheres from his pocket and throwing them down the corridor. They split in two and gave off a gas that quickly rendered his attackers unconscious. He waited for more guards. There were none, so he picked up his pen, checked it over, and carried on.

He felt strangely relaxed, and why shouldn't he? Everything was going completely to plan. The huge black vault door now stood before him. You couldn't beat the simplicity of a basic, straight forward, heavy, steel door. It couldn't be hacked, and to blow it open would risk bringing the whole bank down on top of him. Those bankers were smart.

But not that smart. He'd done his homework. The bribes had been costly, but this was where his investment paid off. He ripped a button from his suit, stuck it on the door, and turned his back. He felt the heat of a brilliant bright light. It shone for a minute or so, but then he heard the thundering sound of many footsteps. He chanced a quick look at the door, then pressed the nub of his 'pen' and there was a distant hum. In the distance the laser wall had reformed, as he intended.

The guards were armed and well-trained but they could do nothing as they watched the intruder at work. They thumped on the laser wall, but it was pointless. The irony of being stopped by their own security measures was lost on them as they radioed a report to their superiors.

The 'pen' had done its work, so he removed it from the door and pocketed it. Then he drew a long plastic wire from his sleeve and folded it out to twice the length of his arm. He inserted the wire deep into the hole that his button had burned through the door, and began to work it into the innards of the lock, twisting, pushing, pulling.

A few seconds work and there came a definitive click, and he ripped off his gas mask, flashed a grin at the guards still thumping on the forcefield and swung open the door.

*** The End ***

The word count is similar to the original.

I followed your original structure, more or less, but I think there may be an issue with it because I wasn't able to inject the necessary tension and swiftness which I think something like this needs.

There's a Peter F Hamilton story that starts a bit like this, and I don't think he managed to convey the right feel, either. I think this is a very difficult way to start a novel, because you have to weave both background as well as character and intent into the action, so everything feels cluttered which slows everything down. I read somewhere that many agents don't like novels that start with a fight, and maybe I've just discovered for myself why that is.

Hope this helps.

 

[Jo Zebedee]

Comments in bold below. Well done for posting.

I finally reached the minimum of 30 posts to allow me to get critiqued here, I've been waiting for this moment for a while now. Now I can post and steal all your good ideas, mwahahaha. Nah but in seriousness, I am open to any and all critiques dont pull your punches, hit me where it hurts.

I wrote this today so it might be a little rough, it's the opening for a new serial im going to try get off the ground. Hope it hits in the right places, the title is a work in progress, so any thoughts there would be appreciated. Apart from that just tell me what you liked and didn't like. This story is quite heavily based off something else, you sci-fi aficionados out there may spot it can be dodgy, that - check out your copyright law , it's fairly obvious. Anyway without further ado:

Quartz-Silicon Rat

He walked with that nonchalant swagger that only comes from the criminally unself-aware. He was aware though; this was a carefully crafted persona. The persona to walk into a bank and steal the bank itself. He passed the general population who gave his black and white chequered suit barely a second glance, just as his steel blue eyes slid right off them. For me, it's all a little too knowing, and telling. It's you telling us what this character is, without actually drawing us into them or the story.

He was watching The use of was comes across as passive. Here, he watched carefully would be more active. carefully, timing his steps that clicked on the white marble of the trading floor, until he was right in the place he needed to be. The very centre of the great Bank of NationalCite Corp. The bank with the biggest stock of physical currency on the whole planet. In his right hand was a shiny metal briefcase, you need something to join these two clauses. with his plastic smile he really looked the part of the stupid smarmy businessman.

He casually flicked open the briefcase Show us some of this. At the moment, we're watching him from afar and it's all very telling. This is an easy show - the clunk from the briefcase opening, the tumbling balls. and from it tumbled twelve small spherical metal balls. They each rolled of their own volition; weaving between the legs of the unaware crowd until they were arranged in a large circle around the chequered man, encompassing in what way? the oval logo of NationalCite Corp.

Once hepresumably the first he, and not the chequered man? Later, I see they're the same person; that's not clear here. had given a few quick glances to assure they were in place, the man flicked another button on the briefcase. This didn’t seem to have any effect at first but if one was watching carefully, as he was, they would see that on the screens displaying the days stock trades, something very strange was happening. All of the stocks were plummeting downwards, where before there had been a mixture of reds and greens, as stocks were traded upwards and downwards. Suddenly they were dropping at an alarming rate! The people milling about on the trading floor didn’t notice at first Really? That seems unbelievable in a trading environment, where those boards rule everything., too engrossed in their personal communicators.

A few savvy traders These are all broad brush strokes. It might work for some, but it's losing my interest. I'm being given very little to hang my attention on. No point of view character, no idea who the other characters are, only a distant narrator who wants to tell me everything but not in a quirky way that might hold my attention. But I am a character readers - there are others who won't be a bit bothered. keeping their eyes on the overall market rates began hysterically shouting into their machines. This caught the attention of the crowd, all at once the uproar began. People started surging towards the tellers at the far side of the room, or dashing towards video phones on the walls. The chequered man stood calmly amongst this maelstrom, looking patiently at his watch. With one final look around him, to be sure that the centre was devoid of humans. He pressed the final red button on the briefcase.No, they're not the same person, then. Your pronouns need to make this all a lot clearer.

There was a fantastical explosion, black clouds flew into the sky and rubble rained down in the room. The chequered man had gone, fallen through the hole where there had once been the squeezed planet This works, though. I can visualise that. logo of NationalCite Corp.

The man dusted off his suit, left the briefcase where he was standing and walked calmly This is a good example where you could easily make the words work harder and show this - walking calmly forwards could be strolled or sauntered. The change of adjective means you can drop the clunky adverb that weakens things, and it's smoother. forwards. If one could listen over the screaming, and the occasional crash of rubble, you would hear the man counting his steps under his breath. He came to a supposedly important number, stopped and then bent down, as if to tie his shoe. When he straightened up, he had in his hand what looked like a small metal pen,comma splice he clicked the nub.

In front of him appeared a wall of laser force, completely shielding the corridor from further intrusion. He forced the pen-like object into the wall with a gentle push. It began reflecting the lasers back to their origins. There was another, smaller, explosion and the emitters fizzled out leaving the corridor free to walk down.

As the forcefield went down, the chequered man began taking fire. He ducked quickly, pulled on a gasmask, taken from his suit, and threw several small balls down the corridor. The offending shooters quickly dropped unconscious, victims to the invisible odourless gas that was now venting from the spheres.This isn't engaging me and it should be. It's all very neat, without any sense of conflict. there's no sense that he might be caught, that there's any danger. The man picked up his pen from the floor and started off again at the same leisurely pace.

He was basically strutting now Show it!!!!! , if he wasn’t wearing the gasmask you could almost imagine him whistling as he walked. He came up to the huge black vault door, this section of the vault was something completely physical, smart of the bankers. You can’t hack into physical doors and the sheer size and weight of it meant it wasn’t practical to use explosives, without bringing the entire building above it down.

This may have proved a problem to people of even expert skill, but not to our chequered thief. Of course not. And therein lies the problem. If he's so superhuman, it's boring. If you could inject some doubt into us, that might help - but only if we actually care for this smug person who we don't know. He ripped a button off his suit and stuck it on the door. He turned his face away and there was a brilliantly bright light for about sixty seconds. During that time, the bank the building, or the people? With Scifi the reader can't assume, and it could do with being clearer. If the building, that's nicely cool for a sf audience. had started to realise what was going on and there was the thundering sound of many footsteps. The man chanced a quick look backwards and pressed the nub of the pen again, there was a humming noise and a flickering of the forcefield as it started up again.

The guards bristling with weapons and armour, saw the man clearly at the end of the corridor and their two comrades slumped beside him. They ran full charge, slamming into the invisible forcefield of their own design. They began thumping on it and one got on his radio to tell the higher ups that a thief was about to breach the vault.

The button having done its work the chequered man removed it, placing it back on his suit. Then from his sleeve he removed a long plastic wire that folded out to become twice the length of his arm. He placed this wire into the hole burned through the door, and began fiddling with it in a complex pattern.

After a few seconds there was a definitive click, the thief ripped off his gas mask. Flashed a grin at the guards still thumping fruitlessly on the forcefield and swung open the giant vault door.

Okay, for me it doesn't work, sorry. There are a few things that are getting in my way:

The distant narrator. If he had some kind of quirk in his voice, I'd be more engaged but as it is it feels like a lack of storytelling ability. Now, from this comment you have two possibles: nod sagely, because you intended this to be from a distant narrator and know why you are doing it that way or not be sure what I mean. If the latter, that just means you maybe need to learn a wee bit more about the various point of view approaches, and different ways to tell a story and engage. Since most of the actual writing is neat, there should be no problem with you being able to convert it.

The lack of conflict. This is partly to do with the distance, and the narrator - we aren't seeing the man's beating heart or sweating palms, we aren't hearing his careful planning or the moments where this can all go wrong. If it feels too easy, readers get bored.

A general flatness in the tone which, again, is to do with the narration and storytelling I think.

Having said that, the scene itself is cool and if I was more engaged, I'd probably read on.

 

[The Judge]

I wrote this today so it might be a little rough

We're happy for rough pieces of work to go up if someone is just looking for help with the overall idea to see whether the concept has legs, but in that case it's helpful to know what feedback is wanted. Otherwise, we do suggest that members only put up pieces which they've spent time honing, so that extracts are as good as they can be. That way, any feedback can concentrate on matters which really need attention. Here, for instance, I noticed a good many punctuation errors, but I've no way of knowing if these are mistakes caused because this hasn't yet been edited and on revision you'd catch them all, whether they're mistakes because you don't know the rules, or whether they are deliberate stylistic choices (though in the latter event I think you need to reconsider a good many of them).

Since this is avowedly rough and I suspect you are going for a specific style, I won't nit-pick at this stage, but if you would like a pointer as to the punctuation issues, just say.

Otherwise, I've only read one of the Stainless Steel Rat books, to which I assume the title of the piece is alluding -- though I'd frankly suggest you drop that -- so I've no idea how close this might be to Harrison's work, if that's what you're intending. However, I have to say that nothing about this pulled me in, and I rather gave up after a few paragraphs and skimmed to the end. (But then I wasn't impressed with the one SSR I read, either.)

It was very cinematic, but novels aren't films, so to my mind it's lacking a great deal, particularly any sense of tension, any characterisation or hints of inner thoughts/feelings/true reactions -- even if he's supremely confident, is his pulse not racing a tiny bit? -- or, to be blunt, interest. It's all very flat and monotone, with no depth. The POV from a kind of separate narrator who is addressing the reader in such a terribly arch tone ("our chequered thief" being the worst culprit I noticed) isn't one that appeals to me generally, and here to my mind it really doesn't work.

As to the plot, the word "bank" suggests something with customers and cashiers ie a banking hall, which clearly isn't the same thing as a trading floor, so I was lost as to where this was meant to be taking place -- there's surely no way even nowadays someone off the street would get access to the latter, and you've given no sign that he's gone through any kind of security to get there, which security should undoubtedly have pounced on that briefcase.

Suspension of disbelief wasn't helped at the idea that he stands in the middle of the floor and no one notices metal balls running around -- again there's no hint of any security on the scene, and at any time in the future there would surely be not only automatic surveillance from fixed points but also small camera drones which would have picked him up as soon as he stopped walking. I can't comment on the rest of the arsenal of gadgets because it's not my forte, but again I struggle to believe in what's done and it seems on the level of a cartoon or superhero film than anything like real life, even in the far future.

Sorry I can't be more enthusiastic about it, but good luck with the proposed series.

 

[Edoc'sil]

@autodidact - Not rude! And bravo I really liked yours, now I see I'm going to have to rethink the whole thing! I definitely have a problem with the passive, not sure how I'm gonna fix that, more practice I guess! I think I was trying to give the impression that he was totally in his element and not fased by all the chaos around him, I can definitely see how it sucked the tension out though.

@Jo Zebedee - Thank you so much for the in-depth critique, I totally agree with all of those points, one question you said "He was basically strutting now Show it!!!!!" how would you do that? I feel like me saying he's strutting is me showing it, if that makes sense?

@The Judge - One of the mods graced me with a critique, I think I'm blushing! Sorry, the punctuation errors are probably a mixture of all three of these things and I'll endevour to put up something more polished next time. The audience is YA so I was going for something a bit more cinematic but as stated before I have a problem with the passive voice. Any tips for how to improve that?

The reason none of the people noticed was (and I realise now that this was not made clear) they are supposed to basically be human robots, so involved in their own lives that they pay no attention to anyone else. You got the stainless steel rat though! I read the first two books and I also wasn't taken with the writing but I liked the character and the casual approach to sci-fi which didn't really take itself too seriously (it becomes a problem later when things don't really make sense but thats another thing). I wanted to do the same thing, but better, obviously that has not been achieved... Yet!

 

[Jo Zebedee]

Not rude! And bravo I really liked yours, now I'm going to have to rethink the whole thing! I definitely have a problem with the passive, not sure how I'm gonna fix that, more practice I guess! I think I was trying to give the impression that he was totally in his element and not fased by all the chaos around him, I can definitely see how it sucked the tension out though.

I've not read any Peter F Hamilton but I'll have to check his stuff out. I won't give away who it was based on and we'll see if anyone else can guess. Hint look at the title, it's very similar to another. (albeit a niche, kinda second rate book)

The publishers of the Stainless Steel Rat books are very much active with the series - there's a new omnibus due out in a few months' time, and, I suspect, will have covered things like Fan Fiction and whether they allow it. I seriously think this is too close. I haven't read SSR but even I recognised what this was inspired by.

 

[JS Wiig]

I like the Bondesque visuals and the rolling spheres.

Overall, for a draft, not bad.

He was basically strutting now, if he wasn’t wearing the gasmask you could almost imagine him whistling as he walked. He came up to the huge black vault door, this section of the vault was something completely physical, smart of the bankers. You can’t hack into physical doors and the sheer size and weight of it meant it wasn’t practical to use explosives, without bringing the entire building above it down.

I found the switch to second person in this paragraph to be quite jarring.

 

[Edoc'sil]

The publishers of the Stainless Steel Rat books are very much active with the series - there's a new omnibus due out in a few months' time, and, I suspect, will have covered things like Fan Fiction and whether they allow it. I seriously think this is too close. I haven't read SSR but even I recognised what this was inspired by.

I'm sure they do, I wanted the opening to be very much like SSR but then go in its own direction. Also the title was meant to be tongue in cheek at this stage, it'll be changed.

 

[Edoc'sil]

I like the Bondesque visuals and the rolling spheres.

Overall, for a draft, not bad.

I found the switch to second person in this paragraph to be quite jarring.

Ok, good feedback, taken onboard.

 

[Wayne Mack]

This looks like it should be an action sequence, but for me, I did not feel the excitement as I was reading. First things I suggest cleaning up are the point of view and tense shifts. Predominately, this appears to be primarily a noir-flavored third person in past tense, but also switches to an omniscient voice and second person in places. There is also some shifts into present tense. For me, the setting was unclear. I do not picture a bank as having a trading floor, I would choose one or the other as best fits the story.

He walked with that nonchalant swagger that only comes from the criminally unself-aware.

he really looked the part of the stupid smarmy businessman.

I felt confused. Did the main character look like a criminal or a businessman?

He was watching carefully, timing his steps that clicked on the white marble of the trading floor, until he was right in the place he needed to be.

To me, this left me with several unanswered questions. What was he watching? Why was he timing his steps? What was he timing them against?

A few savvy traders keeping their eyes on the overall market rates began hysterically shouting into their machines.

This seemed to slip into present tense and into the traders' internal POV.

As an aside,

I wrote this today so it might be a little rough

I usually find that I need to make a couple of passes through my writing before I feel it is in shape to be reviewed by others. It may be helpful to do an edit or two to meet personal criteria and then repost that version.

A huge explosion surrounded him causing a black cloud to spread everywhere, and a hail of rubble fell from the roof. And then he was gone— through the hole where the NationalCite Corp logo once stood.

If the main character is gone, then he could not observe this.

If one could listen over the screaming, and the occasional crash of rubble, you would hear the man counting his steps under his breath.

if he wasn’t wearing the gasmask you could almost imagine him whistling as he walked.

You can’t hack into physical doors

This may have proved a problem to people of even expert skill, but not to our chequered thief

To me, the jumps to second person are jarring.

 

[Edoc'sil]

@Wayne Mack - Another in-depth review, I'm a lucky boy, thank you so much. I think those jumps were stylistic choices but perhaps they come off as not only jarring but stupid.

 

[The Judge]

@Jo Zebedee - Thank you so much for the in-depth critique, I totally agree with all of those points, one question you said "He was basically strutting now Show it!!!!!" how would you do that? I feel like me saying he's strutting is me showing it, if that makes sense?

I don't know what was in Jo's mind, but for myself I don't have a problem with something like "He strutted down the corridor" any more than I'd worry about "He ambled along the lane" or somesuch, but it's always possible to add something to show it clearly eg "Heels clicking, chest puffed out like a bantam, he strutted" or "Hands in pocket, whistling idly, he ambled". But what you've said isn't "He strutted" but "He was basically strutting" which means he isn't quite strutting, so there's a momentary disconnect.

The audience is YA so I was going for something a bit more cinematic

I don't read YA so anything from me take with a bushel of salt, but I'd expect a YA novel to have a main character who is the same age or only slightly older than the projected age group, so an older teenager, not a "man" save in perhaps legal age of majority terminology, if that makes sense. ie if he is 18, I'd be giving him a name and making it clear he's 18, and even if he is legally an adult I wouldn't use the term "man" in the narrative without some qualification eg "young man"

as stated before I have a problem with the passive voice. Any tips for how to improve that?

I didn't notice any passive voice in my quick read, but if there is any have a look at The Toolbox which has one or two posts on it and how to avoid it. Nor did I notice anything particularly passive about the writing -- sometimes if there is a lack of active verbs even if they're not falling into the passive voice, it can create a downbeat feeling. There is, though, a flatness of tone and lack of tension here which perhaps feels similar, and that's down to the POV you've chosen. Set your POV in the main character, inject some emotion, and that would help with both.

 

[Jo Zebedee]

okay so re the strutting - your pov character is very removed from the scene but something made him put in the very unusual ‘basically strutting’ comment - something made him think that. That’s what I’d like you to see rather than be told - readers like to join dots themselves. What made him look so self assured? The set of his shoulders? A certain jauntiness to his step? With this - and indeed most of the scene - I want to be able to see and feel it

 

[J Riff]

intro of a super-criminal. it's a bit rushed. Are you by any chance referencing the Stainless Steel Rat?

 

[autodidact]

Not rude! And bravo I really liked yours,

Thanks!

now I see I'm going to have to rethink the whole thing! I definitely have a problem with the passive, not sure how I'm gonna fix that, more practice I guess! I think I was trying to give the impression that he was totally in his element and not fased by all the chaos around him, I can definitely see how it sucked the tension out though.

Yeah, I got some impression he was comfortable with what he was doing but he also came across as a bit of a robot, which is ironic now I know the others really are robots.

Passive and active is a tricky thing. I've read articles that seem to suggest avoiding the 'passive voice' is enough to automatically make any writing active and dynamic, but I don't think it is. I think that's why a lot of authors write in first person pov. It feels more immediate. Personally, I don't like first person. I find it too restrictive. But if you want to see a good example of first person, I think the first couple of pages of John Buchan's The 39 Steps, where the author introduces the protaganist, is very instructive. Razor sharp and to the point while retaining the right feel. Also, the first Sherlock Holmes story, where Watson introduces himself.

 

[Edoc'sil]

intro of a super-criminal. it's a bit rushed. Are you by any chance referencing the Stainless Steel Rat?

That's right I was!

@autodidact - I'll give the 39 steps a look and dig out my old copy of sherlock, thanks for the tip. I often write in first person but I wanted to have a more omnipresent feel in this one. I think the story would benefit from it later on when describing security systems etc. In my next draft I've slipped back into first person though, I'll post that when it's done to see what you guys think.

I feel when I'm writing it's like I'm sat telling the story in my head, to someone sat in front of me. In this one, I wanted to have asides, like I was looking over the book with a knowing glance, extrapolating a bit, that's why it changed to 2nd person sometimes. I can see how people found it jarring though.

 

[Wayne Mack]

@autodidact Ooops! No offense. I copied from the wrong post when I grabbed your section for my comments.

 

[autodidact]

@autodidact Ooops! No offense. I copied from the wrong post when I grabbed your section for my comments.

That's OK. I thought that's probably what it was lol