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Violet - Chap. 2
Violet - Chap. 2

by KJ in Fantasy Fiction
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This thread was created on March 25, 2008
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Fairy Dust - prologue

Fairy Dust - Chapter One
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kokobeans   View This User's Portfolio
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PostPosted: Tue Mar 25, 2008 9:56 pm    Post subject: Fairy Dust - Chapter One Reply with quote

The prologue - http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic27670.html <- Due to my inability to find a way around it, reading the prologue will make this much more sensical.

Edit: this is still pretty newbish I guess, so ideas are much more needed than corrections.

Chapter one: Not like in the fairytales

<Awaiting muse for introduction>

I couldn't stop my heart from pounding when the pain hit me again, like flesh tearing from my shoulderblades. Stay calm, I repeated to myself. The worst thing to was panic - that's what Dad always told me.

Leaving supper on the bare dinner table I trudged upstairs to the bathroom, deliberately slow, where I pulled off my tee-shirt, turned my back to the mirror and twisted round.

Nothing could have prepared me for the rush of sick blood and layer of sweat that pulsed through my skin at the sight of torn flesh, blood running from the wounds mixed with a luminous blue liquid.

What’s happening to me? My chest seized up in pain and fear as something scorched my skin, the blue liquid burning it’s way through the flesh.

I was deafened by a sound that escaped my lips, a scream, more like a thousand screams woven together. Never before did I realise what people mean when they say 'drowning in pain', until I found myself unable to think, breath, or feel anything else.

I doubled over, clinging to the sink, glancing up at my own crimson face, my eyes turned to pools of black ink.

The pain intensified until I was deaf to everything except that which involuntarily squirmed through the holes now torn in the skin. All I could do was scream until coloured blotches burst before my eyes. For a brief moment I could feel both terror and pity of the girl in the mirror, I couldn’t understand who she was. That isn’t me. That scream isn’t mine. I couldn't be sure. I couldn't understand anything at all.

Eventually the pain exploded with one almighty strike like lightening to my body, the final intense moment before exhaustion takes control. A loud bang sounded in the sudden darkness...

I focused my eyes to the bathroom floor, blood and blue-liquid pooling around my palms. I was on my knees, a sweet, cool throb ran like worms beneath my skin. The absense of pain was something I learned a new appreciation for.

Clutching the side of the water basin I forced myself up to my feet.

The dark ink was fading from my eyes, my face still flushed, two blurred masses behind me. My stomach twisted with a sickening jolt as my eyes focused on them.

Wings. My wings. Small, blue, and smooth. My back was sore and my shoulders aching, whilst the wings twitched weakly.

<I'm still waiting for an idea to switch from the floor to the shower, due to the fact that normal people don't mop up after something like this XD >

Diamonds of water dripped from the shower into the bath. I pushed my thumb into the On button, letting the icy water fall over my entire body as it ran through my stained clothes and lead the blood down into the drain. Easing out my wings and soothed by the water, forgetting normality was easy, to make room for the new, beautiful shapes that now fluttered lightly beneath the cold.

Piece by piece I undressed and stood in the shower and stared across the bathroom at my reflection and slowly moving my wings. Looking at my own naked body I could see a tough, blue layer of skin that hardened like a shield across my chest, around my shoulders, a thin line that broadened at my hips and covered everything down to the top of my thigh with a new wamth that spread through my body. With the feeling of my muscles renewed stronger than ever, skin firmer and a new attire growing along my skin, my own body was foreign - and powerful.

-----

This was something quickly jotted and later edited, so I've struggled a fair bit with the sentence structure. Critiques are much appreciated.


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Last edited by kokobeans on Thu Mar 27, 2008 6:33 pm; edited 4 times in total
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PostPosted: Wed Mar 26, 2008 4:52 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I couldn't get into it. You took too long.

You need a hook and badly. Instead of having the character moan about how he was fated to some destiny on some day, why not have him describe how he discovered it in a matter-of-fact way? If he is talking about a past time, he would have had plenty of time to get over the whole angst and "woe is me" crud.

Having said that, the characters actions are unconvincing. If people have an itch to scratch, they'll look to see where they're scratching. In the case of intense pain, you would investigate the wound first, then think about calling the doctor. It's just how people work: they think of the present before the future or the past.

Quote:
I was drowning in hurt and a sound that escaped my lips - a scream of a thousand screams woven together. I doubled over, clinging to the sink, glancing up at my own crimson face, my eyes turned to pools of black ink.


I think he's spent a little too much time in the dramatic poetry section. None of these descriptions make any sense, they're just emotional scenery. How does one drown in hurt? How can screams be woven together? And if his eyes spontaneously turn into pools of black ink, then he needs a doctor now, not tomorrow morning.

If you're going to describe pain, you must describe the sensation, not the feelings so much. Use verbs, not adjectives, in order to describe sensations.

"Pain shot through up my spine and spread through my body faster than I could process. It hurt so much that began crying."

Stuff like this is what you should speak of, let emo poets write about ink wells simultaneously coming into being where eyes were before.

The story quickly becomes confusing as he sees girls in mirrors and wings and stuff.

The experience must be fairly intense and extremely painful. So painful that he mops up the floor and takes a shower? I don't think that is a likely reaction. His entire life has been normal. Now he's got wings, pain, and blood. These are not experiences that are casual to human beings. If it were me, I'd lie down and cry for mommy.

So here are the main problems.

1. No hook. Give us a reason to read further.

2. Terrible descriptions. Don't be overdramatic, just tell us what he feels and sees.

3. Character is not realistic. If he were, then I'd be able to relate to him in some way. He is not reacting to pain like normal humans would.

4. Changing tenses. I notice that you're character makes references to what he'll do later, when in fact the story is all over and the character is recounting it. It is in past tense, so keep it that way. For an example, look at how he says that he'll ask his mom to take him to the hospital.

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PostPosted: Wed Mar 26, 2008 1:10 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Erm...
I'm not really sure how to take that critique. I don't actually understand half of what you've said...
It also seems like you haven't understood half of the story either, which is my fault, so I'll do my best to take that on board.

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PostPosted: Wed Mar 26, 2008 1:35 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hey. I think you need a way better hook. I got bored and didn't even finish it. Sorry.

Quote:
The day that everything changed, that’s day that everyone remembers.

This doesn't make sense. Need the word the after that's

I guess that's it. But on the upside the title is what drew me in, so good job on that. I skimmed a little, and I noticed that you have lots of cool little details. Perhaps too many...

Anyway, keep writing.

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PostPosted: Wed Mar 26, 2008 3:23 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

You jump right into the action here. Perhaps it would be best to take it a bit slower and start the day normally, but the character feels strange, like her back is itching or something. Right now, we really don't care about the character because we haven't seen her doing anything but grow wings. We don't know how she lives. It is usually best to give the reader normal before extreme.

Does she know she's a fairy? Pretty obviously not, but she seems to be taking it extremely well. If I were to suddenly sprout wings, the last thing I would do would be calm. I would probably freak out and faint and then panic and then after a really long time, calm down to look at them and probably throw up.

Anyway, a question: how big are the fairies compared to humans? I'm assuming they're human size, considering the switch was made.

And what time period does this take place in? Is this a modern piece? I got that impression in this chapter from the tee shirt and the hospital, but in the prologue, I felt middle ages-esque or perhaps later, but not modern, consider the emphasis you put on "machine-made crib". The vast majority of cribs are made by machines nowadays, so that would not be anything particularly of interest.

Good luck with your writing.

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