Calling All Wannabe Writers

**danzibr** · 2017-03-21, 09:17 PM (ISO 8601)

Hey, what a cool thread. I've done some writing. I've never shared any of it online before (at least not publicly). First time for everything ;)

First, for a disclaimer, I write in a program which generates pdf's. Aaaaand here's the link.

**Flying Turtle** · 2017-03-22, 11:21 AM (ISO 8601)

Here's a query letter I am thinking about eventually sending out to a few agents. Any feedback you could offer would be appreciated Please note that I have stripped out any biographical information for privacy concerns and that the actual letter will contain all relevant information.

Spoiler

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Bickering, fighting, and conniving, the gods rule the universe with all the grace of spoiled children. Dozens of pantheons, as likely to destroy themselves as each other, gather followers and use them as the blunt instruments of their wars. Billions of years of conflict, fought across the heavens, have smashed and rebuilt the pantheons of old. Now that conflict has finally returned to earth, and people are starting to take notice, one teenager in particular.
While on a trip to New York City, Bradley Carson, a young sorcerer, discovers his incredible abilities. Now he is another instrument, something to be used by his celestial masters until he breaks, but with help from his friends he escapes that fate and returns home. Unfortunately, it is too late for him to slip away. Chased by a seer who wants to recruit him, a gang of spartoi who want to sacrifice him, and a crew of berserkers who’d happily do either, he must dive deeper into the true nature of the world. But as dangerous as all that may be the real threat might just be Brad’s own ambition. A hunger for power has been born in his heart and those of his friends and in time it will take them further than anyone could have imagined.
New Mythology (118,513 words), by Flying Turtle, is the first book in an epic fantasy series written in the vein of Brandon Sanderson and Eiichiro Oda. That is to say it is a fantasy set in an intricate and sprawling world and written with a scientific mindset. A fantasy world should be a puzzle, slowly introduced to the reader piece by piece and I look forward to stumping, surprising, and amazing you and my readers with every piece of a universe bursting with arcane wonders, scientific marvels, and characters too smart and ambitious for their own good.

Additionally, this is the writing sample I am planning on sending with the above query letter

Spoiler

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“Rules. Rules are what I believe in. Testable rules about the world. If this happens then this will happen. Proven beyond reasonable doubt through rigorous examination and study. In the end rules are the only thing I do believe in.
Everything else is just doubt.
The earth looks flat but it isn’t. It’s a sphere, orbiting a star, swirling through a galaxy, hurtling through a universe. But what is the universe? How did it come to be and how does it continue to be? Is it truly the sum total of existence? Or is it to just another piece? Maybe it’s just like the old story says. A flat disc, resting on the back of a turtle. If so where does that turtle stand? On another turtle? How many turtles are there? Is it nothing but turtles all the way down?!
No!
No turtles, but always more questions. Always more doubt.
Rules. Rules I believe in. Rules connected by logic. If this is true and if that is true than logic dictates that this too is true. Logic is my guide. And logic tells me that I know nothing and never will. There will always be doubt. Always more questions. So I need faith. Faith to bridge that last gap. Faith to fuel more rational thought. Faith so that I can say nothing is certain but this is what I believe and this is what I disbelieve. Because I need beliefs and I need disbeliefs. Without them, what basis do my thoughts have? How do I think? How do I learn?
Doubt to push away the lies, faith to trust in the truth, and logic to tell me which is which.
And that’s it. That’s how it works. Learning.
However, you want to think, that’s how you learn. That’s how I learned.
That’s how I became a god.”
-from Birth of A Pantheon, Transcribed by Shigure Morino

Prologue
Footsteps echoed softly as the man stepped down the stone stairs. Wrapping around a mountain peak without a single seam, nick, or crack, it was as if the stairs had simply grown from the mountain side. At their top they widened into a grand gate, the only entrance into the castle carved from the summit. Solid sandstone in one gargantuan piece, the mountain turned castle overlooked a vast expanse of golden plains. Acres of farmland spread across the plain, like patches of a quilt. The man glanced out at the view. It was impressive to be sure but more impressive was the view from the plains. A massive stain glass window of bright whites and soft blues ringed the top of peak above the castle. When the sun hit it just right, as it did now, soothing blue light bathed the land for miles.
A castle. It’s the twenty first century and they chose to rule from a castle, he mused to himself with a smirk.
Still, it was quite the impressive sight. He took a moment to take it all in. The castle was beautiful, but that wasn’t what really made him admire it. The castle had an effect on people. They looked to it when they needed a reminder, a reminder that they were watched by something greater than themselves. The man sighed. What a waste, such beauty being used to convey such an ugly sentiment.

In time it will stand for something different, something better, but there was still so much to do before that time would come. The man began walking down the stairs once more. His pace was brisk but not rushed. He didn’t want loud footsteps drawing attention his way. The stairway stretched on for a while yet, working its way around to the other side of the mountain. At his current pace it would still take him five minutes to reach the other side of the peak. A faint, near imperceptible sound behind him made him turn and when he did he frowned at what he saw. One of his guards had just stepped out on to the top of the stairs. He had hoped the entire castle would be too busy to notice him and he could escape in peace.

This may end poorly, he thought. I'll have to keep this quick and low key.
The man sprinted up the stairs before the guard even realized he was there. His fist crashed against the guard's throat, crushing it in one strike. Without hesitation the man hooked his other hand around and caught the guard on the side of his chin. The man threw a third punch but before it could connect the guard jumped back with inhuman speed, avoiding the man's strike and putting feet of distance between the two of them with a single leap. The man knew the guard’s wounds were already healing so he charged him again only to suddenly jump backwards before reaching his target. A beam of light flashed right where he had stood a moment before. It had come from his left but he knew it was the work of the guard standing in front of him.

“You were lucky to dodge that. You won't dodge any more. Come quietly and I promise-”

The guard never got to finish his promise because at that moment the man rushed him once more. Beams of light sprang into existence all around the man in the fraction of a second it took him to close the distance. They came at him dozens at a time, from all angles, slicing through the walls and stairs to reach him. Never once was the man cut.

He was within arm’s reach of the guard when a shield materialized around the guard’s arm. The guard tried to bash the man away but he slipped to the side at the last moment, the bash striking against empty air and leaving the guard exposed. The man kicked, his foot connecting with the guard’s lower most ribs underneath his still outstretched shield arm. The kick sent him stumbling to the side as the man continued his assault. Without enough time to raise his shield the*guard conjured a sword in his free hand and swung it at his foe. The man ducked underneath the swing, the sword passing harmlessly over his head. Still ducked and in too close for the shield to be effective the man drove a combo of punches into the guard's abdomen. The guard tried to wind up a vertical swing but at the last moment the man caught the guard’s sword arm at the wrist with both hands and began pushing him back towards the railing

The man could feel his aura clashing with the guard's as they grappled, the guard desperately trying to push his way past the man’s aura and save the spell he had already begun. The energies of the spell, once contained, now spiraled out of control. The man felt parts of his body grow light as others grew heavy.

Gravity manipulation, the standard method for dealing with non-sorcerers, the man thought as he got his right hand free and drove his fist into the man's face. The guard tried to draw back from the punch but to no avail. His back was to the railing, and he had no more room to retreat. The man pressed his attack but stopped at the last moment. Instead, grabbing the guard with both arms, he stepped forward with his right foot before pivoting to the left, hurling the guard down the stairs as he spun. He’d released the guard not a moment too soon because at that moment the air around the guard exploded a thousand times over, the explosions buffeting against each other in a maelstrom of fire and wind that expanded haphazardly as they blasted into one another. Electricity crackled and the air vibrated in a bizarre erratic fashion. When the smoke cleared not only was the guard gone so were the stairs where he had landed. The explosions had incinerated everything. Sorcerer’s Barbs were dangerous to everyone, especially the caster.

So much for quick and low key the man thought as he continued his way down the stairs, casually jumping over the missing section of stairs. They always turn to Barbs when they know they’re going to lose.

Despite the noise of the explosion the man met no other guards as he made his way down the staircase. When he reached the bottom he saw why. Chaos. Below him extended a ridge connecting the peak the man stood on to an even larger peak. Carved from the ridge, just as the castle was carved from the peak, was a beautiful city. Or rather it would have been beautiful had it not been in the midst of its own destruction. Explosions detonated at random across the city, some no bigger than a fist, others miles wide. The wind whipped by in impossible ways, creating swirling vortexes and pinwheels that should have ripped themselves apart under their own energy but instead ricocheted their way down streets. The ground heaved and churned, some flowing like water and some rising and falling rapidly in perfectly smooth pillars with razor sharp edges. And flying above it all was a single figure, convulsing wildly in the air. Millions of people across the city stared up at him in terrified amazement while many others took to the skies themselves in vain attempts to stop him. None of them got close before a stray wind or explosion sent them hurtling away. At this distance the figure was nothing but a vaguely human shaped silhouette but the man knew exactly who it was.

What is he thinking? The man thought angrily. I should have known he couldn't handle it so quickly. He's going to undo all our work, not to mention all the collateral damage.

Then he noticed something, despite the absolute chaos of the city, nothing seemed to be breaking. Rather than break under the strain of the heaving earth the buildings heaved along with them, the wind whipped up the flames of the explosions, driving them through the streets but never allowing them to cause any real harm. People, buildings, they were all safe.

So that's it, the man thought. He's not completely gone, not yet, he's still able to safely diffuse some of the power. It was a relief to know that his companion hadn't lost control completely but there was no telling how much longer he was going to be able to maintain even this degree of control. It was time the man ended this. He pulled a black oblong case out of his pocket and withdrew its contents. As strong as his companion was, with this he could match him every step of the way. The man felt extreme pain blossom across his body as the device from the case did its job. His back stiffened under the strain and he ground his teeth. If the vein in his forehead bulged anymore it was liable to burst. Trying to relax, the man dropped his shoulders and slowed his breathing. He didn't ignore the pain, he focused on it. He didn't try to resist it or embrace it, he merely observed it, and when he did it suddenly disappeared. In its place was a surge of power unlike anything else in this world.

“Enough” The man yelled, his voice almost inhumanly stable as it cut through the noise. At his words his aura exploded, consuming the city in an instant and sending the convulsing figure's power completely out of control for an instant before snuffing it out completely. Across the city people fell from the sky back to the city below, their flight cut short as the man’s aura silenced their magic. Among those tumbling back to the earth below was the man’s companion, no longer convulsing. The man wasn’t worried. You didn’t get to where they were if you could be killed that easily. In fact he doubted any of the figures falling from the sky would be harmed. Shame really. It would have made his life easier to have to deal with a few less of the Host’s troops.

Behind the man, explosions sprang to life all across the castle. They were wild and varied, each a different combination of light, sound, wind, and heat. More Sorcerer’s Barbs. They rapidly grew in size and in an instant consumed the entire peak in a mismatch of chaotic energy.

“What a waste.” The man muttered as he lifted his hand. Palm in front of his face, his fingers curled as the muscles in his arm grew taunt with anticipation. When the explosions reached him his eyes slid out of focus and his hand and arm blurred as he snapped them outward, diverting the fraction of the explosion bearing down on him. For the briefest moment the rest of the explosion hurtled past him. The fires roared, the electricity arced and crackled and the whole world seemed to go white with light. And then it passed. Leaving the man unharmed, it soared above the city and diffused harmlessly into the sky. With the explosion gone the man restrained his aura and returned the device to its case. The peak was gone, and the castle with it. Incinerated by those inside of it, so desperate to kill the man. The loss bothered him even if he knew it was fleeting. The Host had more than enough power to recreate the castle with ease. Still its destruction was irksome. At least the fools hadn’t harmed the city.

Something caught the corner of his eye. It was his companion, once again rising to the sky. No one flew after him this time, nor were there any explosions or convulsions. It seems the man’s intervention had worked; his companion now had total control. Still, he would be vulnerable once the casting began. To the man’s knowledge a spell of this magnitude had never been attempted. He had to get down there soon. His companion couldn’t keep all those people restrained and cast the spell at the same time. The minute he began casting every Host soldier within reach would attack.

Still he couldn’t help but take a moment to smile at the thought of what was about to happen. He ran a hand through his snow white hair as he mentally prepared himself for what was to come. Things weren’t exactly going as planned. If he had it his way the Host would have been on their side, but that was in the past and ultimately pointless. Eventually he’d get what he wanted. He wouldn’t stop until he did.

**SirKazum** · 2017-04-11, 08:24 AM (ISO 8601)

Great thread! Haven't had time to read the stories here, but I definitely will. Many of them sound rather interesting.

If anyone's up for it, my sig has links for places where I host my writing. (Fair warning: the "Worldline Collapse" site's more recent updates have a lot of political stuff that can't be discussed here.) I'm in a bit of a rut recently, but I've been meaning to get back on my feet and restart my series. Anyway, to get you started, No Legend For Us (awesome cover by our own GoatKid!) is what I've been focusing on most recently, and it's more than a bit inspired by Order of the Stick. Most other fiction I've written is in my Wattpad profile though, so of course feel free to explore

**Salasay** · 2017-04-11, 11:58 PM (ISO 8601)

Got an extremely short story here I wrote a while back as an exercise in doing fight scenes. Criticism and suggestions welcome; tear it up.

Spoiler: The Fighter's Sonata

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A thunderous roar rose from the crowd as he came into the sunlight, armor gleaming. He raised his arms and tossed back his head, drinking in the praise. Long, arrogant strides carried him to the center of the arena, where again the fighter cast his arms to the crowd, bringing forth further exaltation. With measured grace he turned, gazing upon the vast crowds before him. Finally, his eyes rested upon the Guests of Honor

The King rose to honor his entry. The fighter doffed his helmet, and stowed it at his elbow. In salute to his liege, his patron, he raised his sword. At the left hand of the king, his lovely daughter, clad in brilliant white, sat radiant and rival to the stars, though just as distant. Many a battle he’d fought, and many a battle he’d won, but only those before his love mattered to him. A smile crossed her lips as she caressed her braid. With a jaunty wink he blew a kiss, which his lady caught with a subtle blush.

Trumpets sounded the arrival of his opponent. The fighter flourished his helmet, its crimson plume and bronzen crest flashing in the sun, dropping it over his head. A deathly calm took over his mind, and his eyes grew cool. The familiar weight of helmet, greaves, manica and shield joined his body as he settled into his stance, sword and shield at the ready. His opponent emerged from the tunnel to little applause, shield up and ready. Each saluted the other, then king. A bell commenced the duel.

The fighter circled right, drawing his foe to the center of the arena. The pair circled, and circled, until, at a meter and a half apart, the fighter struck, stepping to the left and slashing at his opponent’s exposed shin. A narrow miss, as the fighter ducked to the right to avoid a strike from the other man’s shield.
Step, thrust.

The fighter drew blood.

Parry, dodge.

A swing glanced harmlessly off the fighter’s shield.

Block, riposte.

More blood.

The fighter dashed in, darted out, cut and thrust with brutal precision. Scarlet blood stained his foe’s torso in twin thin cuts, while he remained unmarked, untouched. His foe was powerless to graceful speed.

Feint, attack, now three scarlet lines.

Parry, lunge.

A quick recovery brought the other man’s sword into play, and a painful gash opened on the fighter’s tricep. Circling back out, the two men returned to a meter and a half, neither still unscathed. The crowd cheered and jeered and yelled, that first violent clash a tease, whetting the bloodthirst of the people. Ever the showman, the fighter let anticipation fester, frustration grow, tension build. He taunted his foe, pounding his shield, rattling his sword. A quick glance showed his lady fair, tight and tense, worried and proud. The fighter smiled.

Back forth, once more, the warriors clashed. The fighter once more, danced around, in then out. His burdened foe could not keep his shield to bear, and a brutal slice to the shield arm shoulder made it harder still.

Pivot, parry, thrust.

A solid strike, crippling his foe. Sword-side thigh, deep and dangerous. No more sudden lunges, and even slower response. Now the fighter fully led the dance. He could have ended his foe, a cut to the hamstring, thrust to the spine, but no. When the crowd came for him, they came for spectacle. They wanted to see him dominate, to toy and play and to flourish. They came not to see him win, but to see him fight.

Slash, recover, parry.

A subtle twist from his foe caught the fighter off balance, and a blow to the helmet sent him reeling. A blind swing and a retreating step brought the fighter out, safe from danger as he recovered his composure.

The crowd had grown quiet, anxious and taut. The time for flash was done. The time for toying was over. Properly primed, his audience was ready for the finale. The fighter smiled, his masterpiece almost complete. A quick, brutal opening, high tempo, loud. A slower, methodical bridge, deadly and purposeful, building tension with no release. Now, for the closing. Quick, methodical, and precise. Each action clear in purpose, artful in execution.

First, the shield. The fighter feinted left, pivoted, and rolled right, attacking the shield arm once more.

Snick

The muscles parted, and his opponent’s arm fell limp.

A quick disengage, and like a tiger the fighter circled. Now, for the leg.

Beat, parry, step, slash.

The other man fell to his knee, unable to stand. The fighter backed off again and paced around his crippled foe, preparing his final blow. Twenty battles fought this day, and soon twenty battles won, but only the soon thirteen before his love mattered to him at all. Though far and forbidden, she was his muse, inspiring his works of bloody art. And now, to sign his painting. In fourteen battles, the fighter’s signature had evolved, although five unfortunately had ended with the sword. His shield his weapon, the fighter down them finally. Locking eyes with his lady, the fighter raised his sword and beat his shield, three times, then closed.

The fighter sprung.

A sweep cleared the sword and readied his shield for the closing swing.

The final blow.

From the shoulder…

A fiery pain filled the fighters gut. His shield dropped. A deft pivot had brought the sword back to bear
The fighter fell to one knee as his opponent rose to match. His eyes rose to his lady, his love. He fancied he could hear her anguished cries above the crowd’s own uproar. She was standing now, tears in her eyes. With a groan, the fighter collapsed, landing on his back. With all the strength he had left, the fighter raised his head, raised his arm, and blew one last kiss to his lady. As he fell back and darkness drew across him, it found him with a smile on his lips.

**Flying Turtle** · 2017-04-12, 04:28 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by danzibr

Hey, what a cool thread. I've done some writing. I've never shared any of it online before (at least not publicly). First time for everything ;)

First, for a disclaimer, I write in a program which generates pdf's. Aaaaand here's the link.

That was all kinds of morbid. I like it.

Your prose is solid across the board. Aside from one or two hiccups it was consistently good. You also do a good job pacing everything, not wasting any time setting up a home life that would quickly become irrelevant.

There were however a few plot beats that, while certainly not plot holes, still felt a little lacking.

The first was when Lowgaud teaches Zem his first spell. You seem to be setting Zem up as something of a mage prodigy which is fine but it would hurt to have add few more details to Lowgaud's instructions. All he does is demonstrate the spell once and mention that it is uses water and darkness and that is all it takes for Zem. This is hard to swallow given that up to this point Zem has only used magic "a few times and only reflexively." It sounds like Zem has yet to even use magic intentionally at this point and yet he is able to understand that this spell is "a delicate combination of Water and Darkness"? How does he even know about the elemental nature of magic? If you had Lowgaud give just a few more details during his instruction not only could you fix this problem but you could also use it to weave in some early details about your magic system, saving yourself some exposition later. For example you could have Lowgaud give some insight about how to intentionally perform magic, as oppose to reflexively performing it. You could have him passingly mention some basic facets of magic, like it elemental nature. For example he could say something like...

If you want to use magic you have to learn to draw in the power around you. All magic revolves around the (number of elements) elements. We mages pull these elements together from our surroundings so that we can put them to good use. This spell, difficult as it is, involves a intimate combining of Darkness and Water.

Now I probably just screwed up Lowgaud's voice there but I think you can see how easy natural it would be to sneak some exposition in here.

The second plot beat that I felt was lacking was Zem's adoptive family. They just don't make much sense. They don't seem to like him and you make no mention of them having any actual relation to Zem so why did they adopt him? As I mentioned earlier, I wouldn't consider this a plot hole per say, but it is kind of weird. Maybe throw in a line or two about them being distantly related or how they adopted him for some reason other than caring about Zem.

In all I am really intrigued by your story. It's so rare to see necromancy explored deeply in a story and you really seemed to be sending Zem in a novel direction with the pleasant but still clearly disturbed Lowgaud. I think we've all seen odd mentors before but never one so outwardly affable yet still clearly dangerously psychotic. I'd be very interested to read more.

**Flying Turtle** · 2017-04-27, 11:17 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by SirKazum

Great thread! Haven't had time to read the stories here, but I definitely will. Many of them sound rather interesting.

If anyone's up for it, my sig has links for places where I host my writing. (Fair warning: the "Worldline Collapse" site's more recent updates have a lot of political stuff that can't be discussed here.) I'm in a bit of a rut recently, but I've been meaning to get back on my feet and restart my series. Anyway, to get you started, No Legend For Us (awesome cover by our own GoatKid!) is what I've been focusing on most recently, and it's more than a bit inspired by Order of the Stick. Most other fiction I've written is in my Wattpad profile though, so of course feel free to explore

I read No Legend for Us up to Chapter 7, here's what I thought.

I'll start with the prose. Your dialogue is very well done, especially in terms of voice. It's always a plus in my book when different characters have different vocal ticks and habits to distinguish their lines but you really took this idea and ran with it. It's easy to give a single character a unique vocal pattern but to give your entire main cast distinct vocal patterns that reinforce their personalities is another matter entirely. Well done. I was particularly fond of Bertrand's tree slang and use of the word sap.

Your non-dialogue prose does have a couple problems though. First being you tend to use a few too many of what I call structural words. I made this argument to another person in this forum back in the original thread but structural words are words that serve no real narrative purpose. They add nothing to the story, they exist only for sentence structure. They're there because they need to be but you never want your readers to notice them because when they do they're reminded that what there experiencing is artificial. It's not a story unfolding in their imaginations, it was written and contrived and once they remember that their immersion is shot. Let me provide some examples:

"She readied her crossbow, nocking a quarrel into it, and started creeping toward a collapsed portion of the wall."

Try instead

She readied her crossbow, nocking a quarrel, and crept towards a collapsed portion of the wall.

Shorter and to my ear smoother but no actual meaning was lost. Another example:

"A flash of light caught its attention, and it saw a knight in full armor materialize out of thin air in the middle of the stairs, descending into the crypt with thunderous steps."

Try instead

A flash of light caught its attention, as a knight in full armor materialize out of thin air above the stairs, descending into the crypt with thunderous steps.

These may sound like minor issues and in most situations they are but in faster paced actions sequences they can be frustrating speed bumps that ruin a good scene.

The other problem with your prose is how you tend to use descriptive phrases and nouns instead of names or pronouns when narrating actions. Descriptive phrases are good but not when they are describing some facet that is irrelevant to the current action of the sentence. Take for example these:

"The lady shrugged"
"'Yeah, no,' the half elf said."
"'Not much,in fact,' the girl replied"

All of these refer to the same person. Why not just use her name or a pronoun? Do we need to be reminded that she's a half elf or a lady or girl? Is that relevant at this point in time? What's more some of these are contradictory. You refer to Neelie as a girl, a woman, and a lady. You refer to Jarrod as a man, a boy, a lad, and a warrior. The result of all this was that until you gave me a hard age for Jarrod later on I was really confused as to how old these characters actually were. And just like the above point this confusion took me out of the story.

As for the meat of the story I really like the cast you've put together. We've got a good bunch of character who play well off of each other and who each have their own motivations. Unfortunately, it really feels like there are a few scenes missing and a few scenes cut short. For example Gurm and Blake join the party a little too easily. They are certainly questioned but they never really return the favor. They explain their own backgrounds but don't bother to inquire as to their would be companions backgrounds. The whole thing just happens a little too fast for my taste so that scene could probably stand to be extended a tad.

However, the biggest problem with these missing scenes is how it affects Jarrod's death. It just wasn't a very powerful death. We hardly know this character. For that matter most of the other characters hardly know him. The result being it doesn't feel like a real person has died. You could fix this by adding in a new chapter or two that take place before chapter 1. Give us some more time to get to know Jarrod. Let us get attached to him. While you're at it you could also work in Jarrod's first encounter with Kerwick and Bertrand from when they were still pretending to be spirits. They too could use a little more spotlight because as it stands they're introductions gets swallowed up pretty quickly by Blake and Gurm's introduction.

I also feel like the scene after Neelie wakes up and leaves the group should be shown. The tone she leaves the group on sets our expectations for what her relationship with the rest of the cast will be going forward. There's not much to be gained from hiding that information from the reader as we know she resents them. We just don't know what that resentment looks like. Is she cold or is she still red hot angry? Does she blame all of them or just some of them? These question don't really build suspense so much as frustration. Additionally, expanding it would give you a chance to explain what the rest of them are planning on doing. After all they did successfully destroy the scepter so what's next for our heroes?

**SirKazum** · 2017-04-28, 07:18 AM (ISO 8601)

Wow, thanks a lot for the detailed and in-depth reply! I'll have to chew on it for a while. My preliminary thoughts/questions:

1) The "structural words" thing - what I get from your examples is, shave away anything that doesn't detract from meaning/understanding to make sentences shorter and more to-the-point, especially in action scenes. Is that interpretation right?

2) The "descriptive phrases" thing - it comes from a habit (maybe a tick, dunno) to try and avoid repetition. Although I understand that names and he/she have a much higher threshold for repetition, especially in dialogue and fast-paced scenes. So, are you saying I could replace most such instances by just the character's name and he/she/it where that's clear enough? I'll see how that works out. Also, the "man/boy" etc. thing comes from an idea that Jarrod and Neelie are teenagers, and therefore some would call them "man/lady" and some would call them "boy/girl", but I can see how that might be confusing, especially if it's the same "voice" (i.e. the narration) calling them both.

3) As for the missing scenes... I think most of that is a matter of taking narrative shortcuts, getting to what I want to show right away and leaving the rest implied. I like leaving things unstated but implied, so that the reader might figure them out on their own later and have an "aha!" moment - I love it when that happens when I'm reading or watching something, so I try to replicate it in my own works. But in the examples you provided, I can see how there's not really much to figure out, and what's missing is material that would give the reader an emotional connection to the characters and plot events. Contrary to what happens in narration (point 1), I like to keep what happens "on-screen" short so as to not bore the reader, but I can see your point and how that might detract from the emotional connection. I'll have to think about it.

Although, in the case of Jarrod's death, it might be because *I* felt very close to Jarrod and Neelie and loved their interaction, so his death felt heavy enough for me... though yeah, readers may not have the same background with those characters. I'll have to think about it though, as I'm not sure that death does need to be so important, given where I intend to take this story (that Blake, Gurm, Bertrand and Kerwick are the real protagonists here, and the supposed heroes they're looking for are ephemeral and interchangeable).

As for Neelie's departure, I agree that it could be expounded upon a bit more, especially since I plan on reintroducing her later on, and her reaction to Jarrod's death is the main driving force in her future relationship to the four main characters.

And as for Blake and Gurm joining the group too easily and without question... weird, that felt perfectly natural to me, perhaps because of what I know of their nature. But I can see how the reader does not have that information, so maybe either expounding on their perspective a bit more, or calling attention to how easily they accept the crew so it's clear that it's a plot point and not an accident, would be a good thing. I'll think about that too.

Thanks again for the help!

**danzibr** · 2017-05-03, 05:08 PM (ISO 8601)