To Keep No Secrets (Chapter Six added)

Again you rock! This is one of the best peices of lit I've read. The plot leaves you on the edge in suspense and the characters come to life. The dialog is so realistic you make it so clear of what is going on and paint such a graphic picture of the setting. A little riske (as we disscussed jk lol). But definetly a fantastic work of art. Although Lev's character is a little messy and un certain a first you made him out to be very protective over his wife Quote:From the other room, I thought I could hear the stupid pigs talk to my flower. Hello, mattress delivery. Hello, could you bring it in for me? What, no one to help you? No, I’m home alone. Well then, we’ll have to bring it in, won’t we Jeb? Yes sir we will! I could see the creepy smiles those pigs might have on their faces as they glared at my wife’s ass. And she had clothes on yet he is going to sell painting of her with no clothes. Amazingly catchy though can't wait for the next chapter keep it up.

I very rarely look anywhere but the fantasy section, and i'm glad i did this time. Normally i would have gotten tire of reading that much (im impatient!) long ago, but you really hooked me! There was nothing really to crit on, apart from gammar errors which i'm sure you'll catch.

Anyway, looking forward to the next part,

Kaz

Claudette wrote:I may never get another chance to look at Fleur lying in such a way.

You should take out the 'lying'.

Claudette wrote:Finally, her sturdy bridge collapsed and she rolled over on the bed, sighing.

I seriously don't like this line. I just picture a bridge falling. Perhaps you should say, "Her tense posture collapsed and she rolled over on the bed." The metaphor you wrote just doesn't work for me.

I like the whole story thus far, particularly the prologue. To be honest, I like Fleur more than I like Lev. The way you build it up slowly is good too. I really enjoy the pacing. Also, this section was my favorite section of chapter three.

Claudette wrote:I smiled at her. I could see that her abdominal muscles were tight but quivering; she strained so much for me to paint this picture. Her body struggled to hold her weight up, and I wanted to keep her in this pose for as long as I could. I flushed like a boy who had seen his first peek of skin—though every peek was as good as the first.

I simply liked the description you used and the way you eluded to Lev's desire for Fleur. Great work! ^_^

Dear Claudette:


re: Prologue

I was not hooked. This was uninteresting mumbo-jumbo to sound ominous and establish a sense of foreboding doom. I suggest you let your characters act out the Prologue instead of a direct and boring narration.


re: Chapter One

I can't agree with Sam here. Scenery and imagery are nice but not essential to a story. Given that this aims to be a historical/mystery novel, I see no problem with gross descriptions. If you abandon that and present us with flowery images and soften out the scenery, then it begins to simply be another Nabokov novel. Don't sacrifice your voice.

I apologize for selecting Sam alone to respond to here--it's not my intention to respond only to her. However, I think it's too soon for any of us to be passing judgement on your style and voice.


re: Chapter Two

Content-wise, it's much better than Chapter One, which I found slow but engaging. The first-person narration largely contributes to this feeling.

That as it were, Chapter Two doesn't have the same "feel" of Chapter One. It feels rough and sketchy, like you're still unfamiliar with your characters; albeit, you have admitted to loose editting and a general distaste for this chapter...No less, you should approach this again, and soon. Remember that your readers will have to read Chapter Two, and if you dislike it--how do you think they'll react?

It's important in the beginning to hook your readers.


re: Chapter Three

In your edits, you should be very attentive to awkwardness in your sentences. I was put-off by the first line in Chapter Three.

"I chewed the end of my paint brush in a suggestive manner and studied the bare body of my wife."

It's unwieldy and unnecessarily so. When writing, try to minimize these as much as possible without compromising your voice. If it's intentional, it isn't obvious, because the lines like this come and go freely and without basis.

It's an engaging story, and I'm interested in seeing it carried out.


All the best,
Brad

It's pretty amusing how we disagree on everything, Brad...if we critiqued the same piece, I think the author would have a spastic fit or a run-in with cardiac arrest.

Now, Claude...*has fingers poised for 911*

FOREIGN IS BETTER: It's funny how, in America, we often pay a substantial amount more for chocolate or furniture that says 'European' somewhere in the title. [Even if, as in the case of Haagen-Dazs, it is actually made in New Jersey.]

Your story seems to have an air of, "Haha! Look! My characters aren't American!" to it- which is kind of funny, because they sound like Americans. They're fairly modern, and are ever hopeful their situation will improve, even though it's kind of suckish at the moment.

So, here's your assignment. Wherever your characters are from, research that country- its mindset, in particular. Is it looking toward progress, or revelling in the good ol' days? This'll make a difference in the way your characters are developed (do they have a can-do attitude, or wherever they are currently at they are stuck?).

MY DIALOGUE IS GREAT! LET ME SHOW IT OFF...INCESSANTLY!:

Your dialogue is really good- but there isn't enough balance between it and the rest of the story. This makes things that go on very confusing, because Fleur and Lev aren't exactly the most literal speakers. They don't narrate things that are happening ("I am writing a critique for Claudette," said Sam. "Oh, is that so? It seems to be very long and rambly." Brad shook his head as he watched her type rubbish onto the screen.), so it doesn't make sense for them to be the only source of information.

But then...there is the not so good dialogue. Let's have a quick fix-up, shall we?

“What’s the matter?” I looked up at her, hoping to show concern through my actions since I knew it had not come up in my voice.

“You know I don’t like thinking about that. Felicion tried so hard to give me all the money I needed so I could reach my dream.” While she dropped eggs into a pot of boiling water, I gritted my teeth at the name of her brother. I had never liked the lad, and he had never liked me.

“I don’t like you keeping secrets” She stopped dropping eggs into the pot and looked at me with serious eyes.

“You know what I think of secretes! To not keep something secret is to leave your self bare. Even in our relationship, there should be something that is kept secret.”

“Please?” her voice whined more than her face. I knew I had to give into her, just this once.

...never mind. Can I rip this up? Pretty please? For fun?

Just to distract you from the fact that I'm completely ruining your self-esteem, I'll format it like this:

"I enjoy deflating peoples' egos," said Sam.

Things that I noticed will go here. An example will go here.

“What’s the matter?” I looked up at her, hoping to show concern through my actions since I knew it had not come up in my voice.

This is confusing, because not a whole lot of action is taken- looking up is not the same as gesticulating wildly or dancing a tango. Bring more attention to the fact that he's unsure of how he comes across; this'll add interest to the scene.

"What's the matter?" I asked. She paused, giving me a moment to reflect upon how coarsely this had come across. It sounded like more of a formality than compassion for one's wife.

“You know I don’t like thinking about that. Felicion tried so hard to give me all the money I needed so I could reach my dream.” While she dropped eggs into a pot of boiling water, I gritted my teeth at the name of her brother. I had never liked the lad, and he had never liked me.

This is a bit Disney channel, even though it would totally work in any other context with the style you've got going. However, it's sort of confusing the way it is- cleaning it up a little would lead to more insight into Fleur's character.

"You know I don't like thinking about...France." She sighed. "Felicion tried so hard to give me all the money I needed so I could reach my dream." Her eyes glittered as she stared blankly at the wall, seeming more a leading lady of the stage than a simple outlaw dropping eggs into a pot.

An added note: see how I brought drama into the mix? This justifies the lofty, albeit laughable, choice of words coming from Fleur.

“I don’t like you keeping secrets” She stopped dropping eggs into the pot and looked at me with serious eyes.

This is kind of random. How to tie it in? ...bring out the randomness!

She slammed her spoon down on the stove, making the both of us jump. "I don't like you keeping secrets," Fleur said, through gritted teeth- as though she had been reading my malevolent thoughts toward her brother.

“You know what I think of secretes! To not keep something secret is to leave your self bare. Even in our relationship, there should be something that is kept secret.”

Avoid using negatives (i.e. 'not') in prose, mainly because it'll confuse the less detail-oriented readers and they'll be confused for the rest of their lives. Also- simplify! Don't say in fifteen words what you could say in two.

And one more thing- when you've got such a profound revelation coming out into the light in such a close relationship, it should come out with a bang.

I was indignant. "You know what I think of secrets!"

She picked up the spoon again and began to stir, furiously. "Keeping a secret leaves you protected. Invulnerable." Fleur didn't reply, and I continued, my voice lowered. "Even between us...there should be a bit of unknown."

Okay, so the correction was terrible, but I think I've got a valid point. I drew out the dialogue to a pargraph, sprinkling in a little action to keep readers interested, and made sure that the sparkling revelation drew attention to itself.

SOME MORE FUN WITH CHARACTERS:

Chapter Three is a bit...Twilight Zone. Not so much in content, but in character.

Lev is already established as a bit of a sex maniac. That's his domain, certainly not Fleur's. Two sex maniacs do not make a right (or something like that).

So, what to do? Focus more on her discomfort- is the room drafty? Is it hard to have someone stare at you for several hours?

Or, is there a glimmer of good for her because it's sort of what she wanted, as a model?

THE GOOD, THE GREAT, AND THE BETTER:

This story is strangely fascinating- in the sense that you could sit and re-read it for several hours and never tire of it. There's something lilting about the style; and it's got plenty of little nuances that you can only catch after several look-throughs.

Impressive for a NaNo-esque first draft?

I think so.
___

That's what I have so far, but I think, once there's more posted, I'll come back and do some more plot-wise. You need a bit more material to look at when you critique stuff like that.

Thanks everyone. I will hack apart chapter three, and rewrite entirely (because I have a nasty hate for) Chapter two if I get the chance tomorrow while I am not doing math, cleaning, reading, writing source cards, and other things that are probably more important to do.

I really appreciate all the lovely comments I am getting! And the ones that want me to rip it apart! I can't believe I write this good...*drowns in ego*

Things to think about:

1) You're not a bad writer.

2) It doesn't make sense to me that Lev is a painter. Maybe that he poses as a painter, but he doesn't strike me as a painter. Wouldn't Fleur know in that case? And yeah, she's kind of gullible, but it still doesn't make sense to me.

3) Fleur reminds me of that one girl in Player Piano... hehe. Shoot, what is her name? Anita! Yes. She reminds me of her.

4) Grammar! Gah... follow the dialogue grammar guide, located here

5) Lev is interesting. I can't wait to see his ass getting beaten at something/anything.

So yeah. Have fun revising or whatever you do. Don't put too much pesticide on it!

Thank you Snoinkums I eat up your critique, 5 points and all. Yum Yum Yum.

I'm hoping to write Chapter Four tomorrow. If not, Hopefully I'll have done some editing.

Yeah, I've decided not to rewrite anything until I have a full first draft. People can put up with the errors if they like it enough.

I edited all three chapters for various things.

Did a lot of dialog changing to hopefully give Fleur more character.

New comments would be appreciated

HOOOOKAY. So the critique to end all critiques. Yes, I am going to tackle all three chapters--plus prologue--in one post. Suicidal? I prefer to think of it as devoted. Your devoted critiquer ever, O Mistress. And don't you dare comment on that.

Prologue: A short comment for a short section. As I mentioned to you before, I really like this... I don't think I remember seeing anything set up quite like this before, and it really establishes Lev's voice as the narrator. Only one suggestion:

I have never so much as swerved from the “right path”.

The period should be on the inside of the quotation marks. Paladin of Punctuation strikes again!

Chapter One: I like that you start the chapter out in media res; it really works well with the content. I like a lot of the beginning, actually, though it could do with some minor fleshing out. As you've said, though, you're still in NaNoMode, lol. The way you introduced his habit of using aliases was clever, too.

Fleur was a mix of sick genetics. She looked Irish (red hair, blue eyes, freckles), spoke French from birth, and her parents were American. She grew up in England (not learning English until she was seventeen) then moved to France. Not a year later, she met me.

...Bit of an infodump there. I know you're trying to establish Fleur's background and appearance, but maybe you could find a more subtle way to do it?

The following bit of conversation, between the car and the house, has some great characterization of Lev, but while you seem to have a basic grasp on him, your hold on Fleur appears more tenuous. I think you could extend this section a little more and maybe add some more description--of their actions, reactions to what they see, etc--to really take the characterization to the next level.

“Just leave the place alone, this isn’t our home it’s our hideout.”

Run-on! Replacing the comma with a semi-colon would be the easiest fix. Also, I'd add a comma between "home" and "it's."

The description of Fleur, in which Lev talked about how "soft" she was, was well done. It, along with the comment about how she seemed like a discarded doll, really gives insight into how he views her... more as a possession or something to amuse himself with than a real person, much less an equal. At the same time, though, he does seem to have something like affection--if not real love--for her, even though he often treats her poorly. Their relationship is very complicated... I like that. Keep it going thoughout the story!

Also, kudos on handling the scene at the end tastefully, while avoiding the prudish or purple-prose-ridden scenes that some resort to in an attempt to keep things PG. Well done.

Chapter Two: Your dialogue is very good in this chapter, though in a few places it feels like Lev and Fleur are slipping out of character. You're taking a page out of Brad's book there, putting the importance on the dialogue. Don't forget about everything else, though... description, whether it's of the setting, actions, or serves to give an insight into the characters' minds, is also important. Also, because Lev's the narrator the description you provide takes on yet another dimension: it shows what's important to him, what he notices in the world around him. Someone might notice how the play of light illuminates a cracked tile; another might look right past the tile and see the flowers in the windowbox.

“You know what I think of secretes!”[/quotes]

Secretes = secrets?

But you know how I feel—that secrets are kept for protect.

Protection?

“I was a painter before you knew me,” I whispered, “A friend..."

You do this a few times. Unless the "I whispered" part is interrupting a complete sentence--which in this case, it is--the punctuation after the action should be a period. Now, if it was:

"I was a painter," I whispered, "before you knew me. A friend..."

Then it would work.

Her fingers traveled over my body like bugs crawling on a corpse.

Fantastic! The imagery is perfect, and it really contributes to the reader's interpretation of Lev's feelings at the moment.

“You…you’re just as scared as mme, aren’t you?”

Me?

The part with Alexei/Pierce was well-executed on the whole, and I love the note you end it on... dramatic and suspenseful, lol. Perfect line, as well.

...Okay, I was going to do the whole thing in one sitting, but it's past 1 now, so I'm going to sleep and get back to this later.

I felt to lazy to edit, so I haven't done much yet to the previous chapters. But here's number four! I hope it pleases and teases.
----

Chapter Four
With a cigarette hanging from his lip, Alexei smiled at me as if his arrival was a surprise.

“Privyet*,” he said, blowing smoke from his nostrils. He scratched the side of his face where a shadow of facial hair was beginning to show.

“If you are going to come in, you should put out your cigarette.”

He took one long puff, then stomped it out under foot. He knew how much I hated the smell of smoke, and probably lit the cigarette solely to bother me.

“Can I come in now or are we going to stand in the door way to talk?”

He followed me in and we stood in the front room for a few moments. The room was empty, I had never thought of anything to fill it with. We both kept quiet, staring each other down and trying to find the changes in each other. I hadn’t seen him for a few years, though we had always been in contact through letters or telephone calls.

“So where is the art?” He took off his beret and pushed back his black, stringy hair. Despite the beret, he still kept his usual homeless appearance.

“In the other room. Why are you dressed so much like a Frenchman?”

“You should know—your wife is French. French women are the best fucks.”

“You are vulgar, Alexei. Not in my house.”

“But I helped you buy it, no? It should partially be my house. And so, I can be as vulgar as I want.” He smiled and made his mustache curl a little. Like me, he had been an artist, but rather than giving it up for a real job, he gave it up for women. “May I see the work?”

We walked down the hall to my study, where I had left the art work to dry. Alexei stood over the canvases and looked at them as if he were an authority of art. He tilted his head one way then held one work to the light. He made it critical to me through his actions that he was studying them with all his might.

“They look like shit. How am I supposed to sell shit?”

“You want your money back, don’t you?”

He made a moaning sound, and cursed under his breath. “Should I expect better next time?”

“Maybe. Oh, and did you bring any money?”

He laughed like my mention of it was a joke. Alexei reached into the pocket of his dirt smeared, and patched coat and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, showing that there was nothing inside but a photo of a girl too young to be sixteen, and a condom.

“Nyet*, did you really think I would?”

“We need the money!” I shouted.

“Then you shouldn’t have killed someone and you should hope this artwork of yours sells.” He laughed and put away the beat up, empty wallet. “It’s really ugly, how did you let yourself paint this?” As he paced the room with an analytical form, his boots clicked on the wood like gunshots.

“I didn’t kill anyone. You know that.” The sound of gun fire was making me nervous.
“You know I’m only trying to irritate you.”

“When can you bring the money by?”

“As soon as they sell. Can I take a 50% profit for the money you—“

Alexei’s terrible bargain was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, and my darling’s voice:

“Lev, why is there another car in the drive way? Is everything alright?”

I rushed out to greet her, or rather, tell her to avoid Alexei.

“Don’t worry it’s just my friend, here to get the paintings.”

When I came to the kitchen, she had set all of the groceries out on the table but something was there that did not belong. Among the paper bags filled with goodies, lay a bouquet of coral-colored roses.

Fleur noticed I was staring at the flowers. “Could I meet your friend?” she said, trying to distract me as she pushed the flowers behind the bags.

“No, he will be leaving soon. Some other time, I’m sure? Why don’t you put the groceries away and I’ll be back soon to help you.”

She smiled and started to unpack bags.

I walked back to my study to find that Alexei was leaning out the door with a smile on his face.

“I forgot how luscious your wife looks. I’m glad to see her again.” He smiled even wider.

“Sukin Syn*, never say that about her again.” I muttered.

“You are so sensitive about your women!” he shouted, going back to pacing about the room and staring at the art.

“She isn’t my woman, she is my wife. Now take the paintings, and go.”

“Alright.” He gathered the canvases and left the room. I followed close behind, not wanting him get a chance look at my wife again. I guided him right to the door, and showed him out.

“Pakah*, Lev and good bye beau—“ I closed the door on what I assumed was becoming a perverse comment about my wife.

Turning around, I saw Fleur was behind me.

“That was your friend?”

“Yes,” I walked to the kitchen and sat at the table. The flowers were gone. “How was the city?” I pulled some foods out of bags and set them on the table.

“Oh, fine, I made it through the trip.” She put the food I was taking out into their proper places in the kitchen.

“You bought yourself flowers, I noticed. You know we don’t have money for those kinds of things.”

“I didn’t buy them!” I was surprised that she didn’t even try to deny their existence before admitting that she hadn’t been the one to buy them.

“So you let some random pervert buy you flowers?” I walked up behind her.

“No.” Her voice was quiet. “No, it wasn’t a stranger.”

“Than who?” I whispered in her ear. I ran my fingers through her hair. She smelled like lilacs; perhaps she was the bouquet of flowers I had seen?

When she turned, I noticed that she looked like she might cry.

“It….it was,” Fleur hesitated, “Felicion.”

“Your brother!” I shouted. “But isn’t he in France with some horrible factory job?” I felt myself shaking though I wasn’t sure if it was with surprise, anger, or a combination of the two.

“No, when I told him we were moving—“

“Did you tell him why?” I leaned close to her causing her to back up into the counter. I had her cornered.

“No, of course no! Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew by now.” She paused for a moment and stared down at the floor, “When I told him we were moving, he wanted to come with me. He worries for me you know.”

Fleur shifted uncomfortably under my glare. “He lives in a town thirty miles from the city. I didn’t want to be there alone so I called him.”

“And he came to you and he bought you flowers?” I tried to lean closer, remove the space between us so I could get complete honesty from her, but there was not much space to take now.

She nodded.

I sighed. “Does he know where we live?”

Again, she shifted herself. I saw that her hands were shaking and she avoided looking right at me.

“N-no…please don’t be mad at me!” she cried. She bit her lip and finally looked up at me; she looked like a guilty child caught in the act of lying.

I hugged her and felt her body quiver in my arms.

“No, it’s just that you know what I think of Felicion. Sometimes it seems like he loves you too much.”

She pushed herself out of my arms, shaking her head in strong denial of what I had said. “No, he is my brother and he loves me the way a brother should.”

I held her again, forced her into my arms, because I knew I was hurting her.

“Where are the flowers now?” I asked.
“Lying on our bed.” She looked down at the floor, and whipped tears from her eyes.

I went to our room and picked up the flowers. When I came back to the kitchen I made sure Fleur was watching me as I tossed the bouquet into the waste basket.

“The flowers would be better if they came from me.” I looked back up at her. She was still crying, but she nodded.

“You are right. Of course they would be.”

-----

*I'd like to thank Imp for the nice words to begin with! Here are the translations.
Privyet= Hello
Nyet= no
sukin syn= son of a bitch
Pakah= Goodbye

Wow! Excellent! Although, I think her husband is too hard on her! I mean, it is her brother! And, I don't like the language! I know that it is his friends and not him, but still! Does it have to be there? And, again, I think he is too mean! After all, Felicion is his brother and law. He should be happy that he is so sweet to his sister! Just my thought. Writergirl.

This was brilliantly done Clau!!! You did have a few spelling errors here and there mostly in Chapter three, but otherwise...Bravo! Great job with this. It was a different and new idea and plot setting. Great cast of characters and I esspecially liked how mysterious your main character was. I also like his bi-polarness!!!!! I think I told you that I like bi-polar people before though, right? Anyway, excelente' I loved it Clau. I'm waiting for the next chapter... this plot keeps me going and waiting to read just like Chionophobia......so don't stop, and that's a warning. lol.

Keep at it!
-Rieda

Claudette wrote:He took one long puff, then stomped it out under foot; he knew how much I hated the smell of smoke, and probably lit the cigarette solely to bother me.

This doesn't flow very well with all of the commas scattered everywhere. You'd be better off splitting it into two sentences.

Claudette wrote:He took off his French style beret and pushed back his black hair.

No need for you to describe what style of beret Alexei is wearing. Just say it's a beret, otherwise it feels like you're trying too hard to show how European everyone is.

Claudette wrote:It was long and looked matted; he always tried looking homeless, he said it got him attention.

Separate these into two sentences. It sounds choppy the way you've written it as one line.

Claudette wrote:“In the other room. Why are you dressed so much like a French fellow?”

“You should know—your wife is French. French women fuck the best.”

Change "French fellow" to "Frenchman". And rephrase Alexei's reply. "French women are the best fucks." may work better. It really depends on you for that one. ^^

Claudette wrote:He tilted his head one way, and then held one work to the light.

If you want to keep the comma in the sentence then take out "and". Otherwise remove the comma.

Claudette wrote:Alexei reached into the pocket of his coat (another piece that made him look homeless, the coat was old and dusty) and pulled out a wallet.

The aside you've inserted about the state of his jacket bothers me and throws it off. If you want to show how battered the coat is, mention it before this or rephrase it to "Alexei reached into the pocket of his patched jacket and pulled out a wallet."

Claudette wrote:As he paced the room (still analyzing the paintings) his boots clicked on the hard wood floor like gun fire.

Something about this sentence bothers me. I can't tell if it's the aside or the simile about the sound of his footsteps.

Claudette wrote:The sound of fun fire was making me nervous.

I do believe you mean "gunfire" right?

Claudette wrote:“No, it’s just that you know what I think of Felicion. Sometimes it seems like he loves you too much.”

I like the hint of an overbearing brother in this part. Especially since it's implied that he may be rather incestuous about it. Or maybe it's just me ^_^()

Claudette wrote:“The flowers would be better if they came from me.” I looked back up at her. She was still crying, but she nodded.

“You are right. Of course they would be.” Her voice was tainted with disdain.

Finally little Fleur shows some sort of irritation with Lev! It displays how she knows how callous her lover can be towards her with or without realizing it. A nice place to end the chapter as well.

Okay, that's my critique. So I'll just shut up now and be on my merry way

LUNA

Merci I really needed that, otherwise, it would gone on forever, unmarked with the good pen of anyones edit.