forum I'll critique scenes!

Started February 21, 2018 by @WriteOutofTime

tune

Either way is cool with me! If you do it on another forum post, just tag us!

Either way is good with me, too!

I'm currently working on a collection of 2-3 scenes for critique. However, they shouldn't be too long. It is actually a fanfiction, although I'm reluctant to use that word because of the connotation, that takes place in an established universe but with original plot-lines and characters.

heyo, @writelikeyourerunningoutoftime sorry to bother you again (i feel like I @ you all the time) but can you look at this quick little passage? Now that Camille has left Fenin and Sam, it's been a lot of inner dialog and I'm not sure that it's convincing or real, emotion wise.

This is a little ways into chapter two:
“Apartment 234B is in the building on the right!” Then she handed me the key and that was it. I left the office, found the building and climbed some stairs. 234B was clearly labeled. It was almost too easy compared to how the day had gone up to that point. I opened the door and locked it behind me.
The room had a twin bed in the corner, a low table and a single chair. A gas stove made up the entirety of the kitchen.
It was dingy. It was empty. But it was mine.
Throwing my bag on the ground, I collapsed onto the bed. Staring at the ceiling, my mind hit a replay button. Images flashed into focus—my mom tucking the hair behind my ear, the claws of the daemon headed straight for my throat, Fenin grimacing at his wound. The events of the day looped over and over, haunting my brain like a ghost.
I fell asleep wondering what the woman on the street had meant.

The tiny window didn’t let in much light, but happened to be so exactly situated as to throw a sliver of light directly on my face at 6:24 AM. I woke up blinking, disoriented.
I sat up, glaring around the apartment. I shouldn’t be here. I should be in Eteri, at home, cooking breakfast for my family, sharing a room with my two other sisters. A wave of self-pity rolled over me. I sniffed, letting tears gradually pool in my eyes and drip down my nose. I could just leave and go home. I imagined arriving back home and the joyous welcome that would follow. My youngest sister would hug me and tell me to never leave again. My grandma would burst into tears.Then I imagined my mom’s face. She would frown slightly, head tilted to the side—not mad or sad, but disappointed.
I squeezed my eyes tight shut, wiping the last of the warm tears away. I was being ridiculous and ungrateful. Grabbing my bag, I jumped up. Since I didn’t have a private bathroom, I’d have to use the one down the hall.
There was no one in the showers, thankfully, but I didn’t linger long. About five minutes later, I was clean and dressed in nursing scrubs. My hair dampened my shoulders, so I twisted it up and out of the way. Now I was ready to face the day.
Consulting the map, I found the Blue Cross Hospital inside the second ring. Only four roads led there so that the ring could close in times of emergency, if daemons overrun the first wall. Maybe it was a huge door, or a giant portcullis, or a drawbridge with a moat running all the way around. Knights in shining armor would stand watch and do battle with daemons. I grinned at the semi-absurd image of Central City as a Medieval castle. I would still play my role as a nurse, but in a white dress instead of scrubs. Cheered by my personal little joke, I left my dingy new apartment, practically bouncing down the stairs, and was soon back on the busy streets.

Yay i get to read more!!! Now, I don't see any glaring problems with it. A stylistic issue (one you don't necessarily have to change) is the whole portion "Maybe it was a huge door, or a giant portcullis, or a drawbridge with a moat running all the way around. Knights in shining armor would stand watch and do battle with daemons. I grinned at the semi-absurd image of Central City as a Medieval castle. I would still play my role as a nurse, but in a white dress instead of scrubs." It seemed a bit out of place and rambling. If you want to include it, consider shortening it so that the imagery is clear (absurd Medieval castle) but not too long or ambling. But really, this is just me being nitpicky because I don't have anything else to critique. It feels real. Her thoughts, the narrative, the setting –I feel like I'm reading about a living, breathing woman in a living, breathing world as real as our own. If you have more scenes you want me to critique, don't hesitate! I love reading your writing, like, a lot.

@TryToDoItWrite, Do you mind if I give a little critique as well? (Also, I love it when you post bc I'm so interested in your world!)

@LittleBear no, go ahead! more the merrier and i'll defiantly post more as i go because this is super helpful and encouraging. @writelikeyourerunningoutoftime I agree that the little metaphor/joke that she talks about rambles too much. The point was that I wanted to show how cheerful she is as a character with a disposition to optimism. I hope she doesn't come across too Mary Sue ish as a character. Her flaws are being too naive and trusting (this gets her into tons of trouble later)

She's definitely not a Mary Sue. She's too human for that. A Mary Sue would have easily destroyed the daemon that attacked, and Fenin would have fallen in love with her instantly, etc. Your character struggles, and that makes her relatable, which in turn makes her decidedly not a mary sue.

Okay but you probably read in that romance writing tag that I can't write romance for crap, but I honestly really want Fenin and Camille to be a thing, but after FOREVER and it'd be super slow burn…what do you think?

I could see them being a thing, but definitely slow burn. And don't force it. I think they have chemistry, but make sure you shipping them doesn't show too much. Let them decide. Sounds kinda creepy, I know, but characters have minds of their own.

True :)) i defiantly love a perfect romance with zero romance written in, if you get me. Lockwood and Co by Jonathan Stroud is the perfect example of this. I knew from the first page of the first book that they would be together by the end and guess what……..(okay i wont spoil it tho i really want to)

@TryToDoItWrite, man this site is going to get me into so much trouble in the real world… I really should be studying for my test tomorrow… Too late now. First off, I measure the skill of a writer by how easy their writing is to follow. I should forget that I am reading, the world should just envelope me. And I flew through this. There were only two times that I stopped to re-read something. So major kudos! The first time I stopped was to admire "It was dingy. It was empty. But it was mine." I love the use of short sentences to express genuine feeling! I always feel like the sentiments are purer when they're unencumbered. Sentence variance makes me so happy! Woo! The second time I had to stop was "Only four roads led there so that the ring could close in times of emergency, if daemons overrun the first wall." I agree with @writelikeyourerunningoutoftime that it is a little bit clunky, but I feel like with a little bit of polishing it could be a nice addition to your characterization. But this sentence is one of the things that I have to watch out for myself bc I adore world building and want to get the information out as efficiently as possible. I feel like this sentence does not fit with the inner dialogue that your character has. Generally the audience gets a look inside her head, in her inner thoughts and her actions through her eyes - but this feels as if she is directly addressing the reader to explain something and it is a little jarring (but that could also just be me). I do think that this sentence is important and deserves more bc it is vital to the landscape of your world, I feel (correct me if I'm wrong) as if this is foreshadowing. So maybe have this come up in conversation or in a briefing on orientation day or having some well meaning character give some advice (since she is the new girl?). Flesh it out! It's a great idea and I want it to have more than a little blip. I'm super excited to read what you guys have next… and I'm like 3/4 done with something I would like y'all to take a look at!

@LittleBear you're super right about the wall and foreshadowing (my other bits posted have some too and I'm so excited to write it) and I will spend time polishing. It's probably a good idea for her to hear it from someone else and I have a little scene with a nervous security guard that could work perfectly for that. Thank you so much and I do look forward to reading your stuff too!

actually, defiantly, I need to move it to an earlier point in the story, so Fenin can explain it to her, so the foreshadowing is stronger (cue the evil laughter)

EDIT:
How's this? @LittleBear @writelikeyourerunningoutoftime I moved the info to the conversation on the trolley

I was curious now. “So who is your boss? Sam told me you work in a daemon protection place? Agency?”
“I work for Henry Greyson at Greyson Agency.”
He didn’t elaborate and we plunged into silence. I looked around for anything to change the subject. The roads were mostly twisting side streets and alleys, and the buildings were so close that one practically touched it’s neighbor. But we passed one street that was wide and clear, cutting through the distorted maze towards the center of the city.
I pointed. “Where does that lead?”
He followed my line of vision then said, “That’s one of the roads leading into the second ring. They built gates so that if daemons overrun the first wall, the second will close.”
“What happens to the people in the first ring? Do they wait to close it for them?”
“No.”
“Oh.” We sank back into silence. I watched the city move past us for another ten or twenty minutes, then Fenin touched my shoulder. His hand was warm, unnaturally so. I’d have to check him for a fever later.
“Time to go.”

@TryToDoItWrite, so sorry, I just saw this! I like this so much better! The frank way that Fenris says "no" is perfect. There is so emotion to it, this is just how it is - and somehow it makes it that much more real and depressing. The daemons are such a threat that potential loss of life is normal. Great job!

Can't believe I missed this! The dialogue is so good. Brilliant work. Everything flows well and feels natural.

So, this is a work in progress for the prologue of my story. Let me know what you think, and please don't be afraid to be harsh!

Artemis stood still in front of the two gods, her bow and arrow raised and pointed at them. Her right arm was straight and rigid, fixing the bow in place. The left was bent at the elbow, and her pointer finger was curled tightly around the string. The tension hung in the air, in the way that sound hovers around a bell that had just stopped ringing. She exhaled slowly and quietly, through her mouth, not sure how to react to what had just happened.
In front of her were two gods, Asura and Mephistopheles, frozen in place. Mephistopheles was staring down at his chest, where blood bubbled from a jagged wound that was centered at the sternum and reached all the way to his collarbone and hips. His suit was burnt and smoking, revealing mangled flesh that surrounded the center of his chest. A golden staff protruded from the wound, and his hands were clenched tightly around the weapon. Asura kneeled in front of him, expressionless, his hand wrapped around the hilt of the staff. Their eyes met, and Mephistopheles smiled.
“I didn’t think you would actually be able to pull that off,” he whispered, his voice weak. Asura let out a nervous laugh, and Mephistopheles let his head fall back, his long brown locks brushing the rocky ground. Crimson red blood trickled from his mouth and dripped down, adding to the dark pools that surrounded his limp body.
“Are you impressed?” Asura whispered back, his voice low, like his words were precious secrets. His grip around the hilt of the staff tightened, knuckles turning white.
“Very. It’s not that easy to kill a God. I’ve taught you well.” Asura smiled sadly at him, golden tears escaping his slanted eyes and streaming down his face. They collected at his chin, where the moonlight reflected off of the glistening liquid. Mephistopheles frowned, and he peeled his bloodstained hand from the staff. Shakily, he brought the hand up to Asura’s face.
“It’s alright, I understand,” he assured Asura, fingertips brushing light as a feather across his chin.
They all turned when approaching footsteps were heard.

Okay, first let me say I really like this. The general vibe it gives off is really interesting. It's like this mingled feeling of defeat and victory and it's wrought with tension. I love it. Now to get critique-y: You use a lot of adjectives and adverbs, and a lot of them aren't very effective. Some of your descriptions feel excessive, as well. For example, this: "Her right arm was straight and rigid, fixing the bow in place. The left was bent at the elbow, and her pointer finger was curled tightly around the string." That information is kind of useless and bogs down the narrative. My eyes naturally skimmed over it because I was anxious to get back into the action. This too: "quickly and quietly, through her mouth." Your description of the god's wounds was also a little excessive. Sternum? Collarbone? Not that the details are innately horrible, it's just that it feels like an interruption. If I were you, I'd keep the sentence as "Mephistopheles was staring down at his chest, where blood bubbled from a jagged wound that slashed across his chest." In writing, less is more!

Other than the description issues, which is kind of stylistic so you don't have to take my advice, this looks really good. Great job!

Thank you very much! I'll take that into consideration, but I also have a question. My purpose was to get the point across that the damage to Mephistopheles was really, really bad. I don't usually describe violent things in my stories, so it's a bit new for me and I could really use some advice! How do you think I could do this?

I think his reaction to his injuries would do fine. He's a god. If you've established throughout your story that gods are hard to kill/pretty darn tough, him being in pain and trembling would tell the reader all they need to know about his injuries. Going into deep, grotesque detail would either bore the reader or disgust them, neither of which you want. At the risk of sounding cliché: show, don't tell.

@Jensen-rs & @writelikeyourerunningoutoftime, If its okay I'd like to jump in? The way to do this is by words that sound and have the weight of devastation, describe the wound not like an anatomy book but like a poem. One of my favorite words is "maw" meaning the jaws or throat of a voracious animal. So you could say something like "Mephistopheles was staring down at his chest, his blood oozed from the jagged wound, a carnivorous maw that seemed to swallowed him whole." So while this is not the best example, but it is just vague enough that you dont have to think about it too extensively. This is a good website to look at: https://lisavoisin.wordpress.com/2012/10/05/fiction-friday-8-things-writers-forget-when-writing-fight-scenes/

@LittleBear thank you! I really appreciate that. Would you mind taking a look at the revisions?

@Jensen-rs, sure where are they?

Artemis stood still in front of the two gods, her bow and arrow raised and pointed at them. Her right arm was straight and rigid, fixing the bow in place. The left was bent at the elbow, and her pointer finger was curled tightly around the string. The tension hung in the air, in the way that sound hovers around a bell that had just stopped ringing. She exhaled slowly and quietly, through her mouth, not sure how to react to what had just happened.
There was a sickening scent of metal hanging in the air, clinging to her body and invading her mouth and nose. Red mist and thick smoke drifted close to the ground, curling around her ankles and gently brushing her skin. Artemis tried not to breathe through her nose.
In front of her were two gods, Asura and Mephistopheles, frozen in place. Mephistopheles was staring down at his chest, where blood bubbled from a jagged wound that was centered at the sternum and reached all the way to his collarbone and hips. There was a slight wheeze every time he took a breath, and his skin was white as a sheet. A golden staff protruded from the wound, and his hands were clenched tightly around the weapon. Asura kneeled in front of him, expressionless, his hand wrapped around the hilt of the staff. Their eyes met, and Mephistopheles smiled.
“I didn’t think you would actually be able to pull that off,” he whispered, his voice weak. Asura let out a nervous laugh, and Mephistopheles let his head fall back, his long brown locks brushing the rocky ground. Crimson red blood trickled from his mouth and dripped down, adding to the dark pools that surrounded his limp body.
“Are you impressed?” Asura whispered back, his voice low, like his words were precious secrets. His grip around the hilt of the staff tightened, knuckles turning white.
“Very. It’s not that easy to kill a God. I’ve taught you well.” Asura smiled sadly at him, golden tears escaping his slanted eyes and streaming down his face. They collected at his chin, where the moonlight reflected off of the glistening liquid. Mephistopheles frowned, and he peeled his bloodstained hand from the staff. Shakily, he brought the hand up to Asura’s face.
“It’s alright, I understand,” he assured Asura, fingertips brushing light as a feather across his chin. Asura exhaled, then stood, towering above the dying God. He broke eye contact and turned to Artemis, who was still shocked and silent. There were tear tracks on her face as well, but her expression was stone cold.
“You should leave,” Asura said. Artemis pulled the string on her bow back even further, and clenched her teeth. He could sense her fear.
“No,” she said, sounding angry but unsure. Asura stepped forward slowly with his hands up, as if approaching a frightened cat.
“Listen, I know what you’re thinking,” he started, trying to make his tone soft and understanding.
“You can’t even begin to know what I might be thinking!” She said quickly. She shifted so that the tip of the arrow was aimed right between Asura’s eyes. He froze, looking down at his boots, attempting to generate a response.
“Okay… you’re right. I have absolutely no idea what you’re thinking,” he started, voice gentle. “But I can tell you that I’m on your side. Just let me explain a few things.”
“Alright, explain why you killed him then,” she said, nodding her head toward Mephistopheles’s dead body.

@Jensen-rs, I like the additions that you made they really ground the scene and add to the devastation! But I agree with @writelikeyourerunningoutoftime about the technique of drawing her bow, the article that I sent in my last post is a really good resource for writing fight scenes and one of the things they mention is to not get too caught up in the small details of actions. We know Artemis is a master archer, she's the goddess of the hunt! By writing about it with left and right arms and fingers I feel like I'm reading an instruction manual or with sternum and collarbone - an anatomy textbook. Also there are a few times that you switch between present and past tense and that can be pretty jarring for the reader, try to just stick to one.