Circus Pirates 2

*continued from Part 1*



Circus Pirates - Part 2

I awoke hours later in the bunk. I remembered where I was and groggily swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I had been dressed in a new tunic and blanket. I found my bloomers on top of a crate. I slipped them on but they were still damp, and were cold against my bruised legs and hip where James had kicked me. My long honey blond hair had dried into its natural waves. I ran my fingers through it quickly to get the flyaways out of my face. I saw a skirt laid out over a chair for me. It was an odd-looking skirt with skinny horizontal stripes of pink and white, and calico patches sprinkled liberally about.

It was bright and sunny outside, and a circle of light shone on the floor from the single porthole in the plain bunkroom. I could hear the general clamor of the ship above me, and I smelled something glorious from the other side of the door.

After slipping on the striped skirt, I opened the cabin door to reveal the ship’s galley in front of me. A large man sat in the middle of the room with all sorts of cooking equipment, cutlery, and food surrounding him. As I walked slowly closer, I realized the man took up the entire space normally provided for about three cooks. I could not see his feet over any part of the U-shaped counter where we all dined. I found out later that day that the man, who was called Cookie, lived and slept there all day and night, never moving from the galley.

“Hello!” his deep voice greeted me as he saw me walk out of the bunkroom with a look of shock on my face. “Angie! She’s awake!” he made an effort to throw his voice over his shoulder and up the small staircase to the deck. His booming voice traveled well.

As I stood, unmoving, a large plump woman came down the stairs. “Oh!” she cried and she walked up and gave me a maternal hug. “You look so frail, my dear! Cookie, give her a meal! Come, come!” she waved her arms as him frantically.

She quickly ushered me over to one of the stools perched next to the counters. She and I sat. Cookie placed a plate in front of me. There was a potato and some grey mush. It didn’t look quite appetizing, but it smelled all right. The woman let me get a few spoonfuls of the stuff before she started talking. At least it tasted good.

“My name is Angel, but you can call me Angie. Everyone calls me Angie,” she smiled.

I looked up at her. She looked more like a man to me. She had reddish shoulder-length scraggily hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in weeks. Her face was pockmarked, probably from an early childhood disease. She was large and muscular, and pretty broad-shouldered. I swore I could see hints of facial hair along her jaw line and upper lip. Nothing at all like an angel.

“And what’s your name dearie?” she asked in a high-pitched yet gruff voice.

I quickly turned my grimace into a smile. “I’m Isabella. You can call me Iza I guess.”

“Wonderful!” she said.

I didn’t know why this was so great.

“Now dearie, can you tell us why you were out in the middle of the Irish Sea, on your own, in a rowboat?” Angie asked.

I looked at her hesitantly.

“There’s no pressure, hun. If you’re uncomfortable saying so, we understand,” she said.

I looked at Cookie. He nodded in agreement with Angie.

Angie watched me eat for a little while.

I then asked, “So, you’re a pirate?”

Angie and Cookie looked at each other and laughed with loud, boisterous hacks and coughs. I turned red and stared at my nearly empty plate sheepishly. I had apparently been wrong.

“No, no, darling,” Angie finally said. “We ain’t pirates,” she said still grinning.

“Do I look like the swashbuckling type to you?” Cookie chuckled.

I finally smiled a little. “No,” Angie said again. Then, “Well... I guess in a way we are,” Angie looked to Cookie. His wide arms flapped in a shrugging gesture. “We took over this ship… and it is stolen,” Angie continued. “But we ain’t violent.”

“We?” I didn’t know to whom she was referring.

Angie grinned.

Just then, two voices called out simultaneously. “Angie! Our Capitan needs you on deck!” Boots tromped down the stairs. Over Angie’s shoulder, I saw a man. No, two! Behind Cookie stood two midgets stacked on top of each other, one sitting on the other’s shoulders. Alone they might make it to three feet tall, but together they were nearly six.

“This is Bran and Bard, our Russian midget juggling team as well as our twin human cannonballs!” Angie said cheerfully. “Bran, Bard, this is Iza.”

“Greetings!” they both said. Then the top man said, “I am Bard,” and the bottom man said, “I am Bran.”

“And don’t memorize their names by who is on top or bottom,” Angie said. “They switch places.” And as if on cue, Bard, on top, jumped off Bran’s shoulders in a somersault, and Bard leapt onto his shoulders.

“Ta-daaaaa!” they sang it as a chord. I couldn’t help but giggle a little.

“Don’t get fooled by Bard’s name either,” Cookie said. He was turned as much as he could to see them. “Bran is the real singer of the two.” I nodded.

“ANGIE!” a loud, commanding voice called from above deck atop the stairs.

Angie stood quickly. “Come child,” she said. She took my arm and started up the stairs. I squeezed between Cookie and the Twins and up the narrow staircase after her. Bard and Bran followed after me.





EDIT: Using suggestions. 3/28/08

*Part 3 is here!*

This is good, you have some very strong characters, but I think the realism of it and the general narrative need some work. There's some lovely descriptions at the beginning and when talking of Angie but I'd like more of the ship. What does it look like? Is the wood polished, are the rooms fine? Or does it have the appearance of a pirate's ship with maps strung across the walls and many nooks and crannies to stole jewels in. How does Isabella view it?

Here's a few specific suggestions that should help you to outline where it's not quite realistic and where your grammar is a little out -

My tunic had dried on my body, as well as my bloomers. [No matter how exhausted she was, they wouldn't have let her sleep without changing. Sleeping in wet clothes leads to illness much too often and, even if they had dried her thoroughly and put her in new clothes, she should have a little cold come morning.]

My hair had dried into its natural waves. [You've got a good opportunity for description here. What colour hair? And is there a mirror? She should feel the need to make a good impression on these people and she should comb her hair carefully, look for some sort of mirror so that she might be able to see if she can arrange her hair so that it hides any bruises on her face. And then you could describe her to your reader.]

I found out later that day that the man, who was called Cookie, lived and slept there all day and night, never moving from the galley. [Maybe say 'who was referred to as Cookie' rather than called because that's much too stereotypical a name for a ship's cook and considering he was with a circus previously, it seems strange. He's more likely to have a very ordinary name of he was the cook at the circus or maybe he was the lion tamer or something?]

She looked more like a man to me. [s]He[/s] She [Don't switch between calling her he and she. It's enough to say she looked like a man. Putting he just makes it confusing.] had reddish shoulder-length scraggily hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in weeks.

Angie said. “They switch places,” she informed. [There's no need for the end tag. Just write '...Angie said. "They switch places."' The reader knows who's speaking if it's straight after a previous line of speech and it sounds strange to have two dialogue tags so close together.]

________________________
In general, the plot is advancing very well and you have some good, strong characters to work with but you need to slow down a little and remember to create atmosphere and to draw your reader in. Your reader needs to feel connected to these characters.

Feel free to pm me with questions,

Heather xx

I'm really liking where this story is going. I don't know why I never read much of your work before now. The characters are hilarious. And you have excellent dialogue.

Remember what I said before about the introduction paragraph you had before? This is the perfect chance for you to give us the history of Iza in a more natural way. You really have to be careful with exposition so it doesn't hold the story up. Whereas here, you could work it in while you're introducing us to all your crazy characters.

We're also getting into that age-old battle of show-don't-tell. I would want a lot more descriptive details in the opening paragraphs, like how she knows it's hours later, and how she is feeling. Kitty is right about the sleeping in her clothes. And if these people picked her up to help her, I highly doubt they would let her sleep in her wet clothes anyway. And I really want to know more about what the characters look like. You can really show us a lot about them and their personalities by giving us a description of their appearance.

But good work, yoyo. I look forward to part three!

Thanks again guys! I'll definitely get working on your suggestions.

~Yoyo

Hello again!

A bit of grammar stuff first:

It didn’t look quite appetizing, but it smelled all right.

....smelled alright.

Angie watched me eat for a little while. I then asked, “So, you’re a pirate?”

I think you might want to have it be, "So, you're pirates?" because you had been talking to both Angie and Cookie and it felt like Angie had been including Cookie in all of her answers.

Other than that I hadn't found anything too outstanding.

I really liked this chapter, it was cute. I think the two midgets are going to become my favorite. I like 'em already. Hehe. You've got a really good lead up to what's happening. I hope you're on the way with the next chapter.

-Maggie

Heya, hon.

Here is my critique, you know the drill.







Ta,
Cal.

I liked the part with the twins. It was funny. As to the rest, it wasn't bad. Write on.

I'm sorry i haven't read in a while! Now, on to buisiness *adjusts librarian glasses with a professional air*

like a man to me. He had reddish shoulder-length scraggily hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in weeks.

Okay, i understand Angel (Angie) looks like a man, but you need to stick with describing Angie as 'her'. not 'him'. (It's kind of insulting.)

Bran and Bard sound interesting, but they need more a more ....descriptive introduction. Angie's intro was beautifully written, so I know you can do it. *smirk* Other than that, I think this story is going to be a very interesting comedy. Good luck! XD

“As I walked slowly closer, I realized the man took up the entire space normally provided for about three cooks. I could not see his feet over any part of the U-shaped counter where we all dined.”

- The use of “we” here is odd, she has only just come to the ship, she wouldn’t be feeling like part of them yet.

“Boots tromped down the stairs. Over Angie’s shoulder, I saw a man. No, two!”

- The use of the exclamation mark here is comical, I am unsure if that is on purpose or not?

Hi!

Okay! So, this is rather interesting, and I love how you left this off, this time. Lovely suspense there. But! I think you could have increased the suspense. Make us worry with her. What does the captain want with her, why does she have to go?

Your flow here is much better than before, and goes much more smoothly in this chapter, perhaps because there were no major scene changes? Hrm. You do, however, have a problem with “telling” – there’s a lot of “I did this” “then this happened” You’re not letting the natural narrative play out, mainly because I think you’re concentrating on the basic idea, of getting it down how it should be. Now I think, considering your perfectly good base, you can start on adding some of those descriptive elements. What does the cabin look like other then the light (a good description, by the way.) And is the kitchen clean, dirty, small, large, perhaps Cookie has a tattoo of a cookie on his bicep. xD These are all details that attach the reader to the narrative itself, and allows for a more concentrated stream of consciousness feel, if you know what I mean. While we don’t want to know everything your character thinks or feels, we do want to know a whole lot. I think that you pass over this for the narrative itself. It’s okay to deviate for a line with something that distracted Iza.

Again, I like this, I’m looking forward to the next chapter.

*Hearts* Le Penguin.

I'm finally here! I promised these critiques ages ago! Anyways, not enough for a line-edit, so I did a paragraph edit!

Paragraph Edits

I awoke hours later in the bunk. I remembered where I was and groggily swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I had been dressed in a new tunic and blanket. I found my bloomers on top of a crate. I slipped them on, but they were still damp, and were cold against my bruised legs and hip where James had kicked me. My long honey blond hair had dried into its natural waves. I ran my fingers through it quickly to get the flyaways out of my face. I saw a skirt laid out over a chair for me. It was an odd-looking skirt with skinny horizontal stripes of pink and white, and calico patches sprinkled liberally about.

Good job describing, but cut down a bit. Just give us the necessary information. Try to combine some sentences, vary up the structure. Make us care; you’ve got to hook us every chapter.

After slipping on the striped skirt, I opened the cabin door to reveal the ship’s galley in front of me. A large man sat in the middle of the room with all sorts of cooking equipment, cutlery, and food surrounding him. As I walked slowly closer, I realized the man took up the entire space normally provided for about three cooks. I could not see his feet over any part of the U-shaped counter where we all dined. I found out later that day that the man, who was called Cookie, lived and slept there all day and night, never moving from the galley.

Don’t tell us this! Show it later on.

As I stood, unmoving, a large plump woman came down the stairs. “Oh!” she cried and she walked up and gave me a maternal hug. “You look so frail, my dear! Cookie, give her a meal! Come, come!” she waved her arms at[s]s[/s] him frantically.

“My name is Angel, but you can call me Angie. Everyone calls me Angie.[s],[/s]” [s]s[/s]She smiled.

I quickly turned my grimace into a smile. “I’m Isabella. You can call me Iza, I guess.”

I finally smiled a little. “No,” Angie said again. Then, “Well... I guess in a way we are.[s],[/s]” Angie looked to Cookie. His wide arms flapped in a shrugging gesture. “We took over this ship… and it is stolen,” Angie continued. “But we ain’t violent.”

Her dialogue is a little confusing here. And when you told us Iza smiled, I was waiting for Iza to speak, so you caught me off guard.

“We?” I didn’t know to whom she was referring.

We does make sense – there are at least two.

Angie grinned.

Combine this with the previous paragraph. It’s not strong enough to stand on it’s own.

Just then, two voices called out simultaneously,[s].[/s] “Angie! Our Capitan needs you on deck!” Boots tromped down the stairs. Over Angie’s shoulder, I saw a man. No, two! Behind Cookie stood two midgets stacked on top of each other, one sitting on the other’s shoulders. Alone they might make it to three feet tall, but together they were nearly six.

“Greetings!” they both said. Then the top man said, “I am Bard,” and the bottom man said, “I am Bran.”

When someone knew speaks, it gets a new paragraph.

Angie stood quickly. “Come, child,” she said. She took my arm and started up the stairs. I squeezed between Cookie and the Twins and up the narrow staircase after her. Bard and Bran followed after me.

Overall Comments

Not bad, but careful of several thing:

- Too much description! I know, it sounds contradictory, but watch how much you have. We need enough to feel like we’re there, but the beginning was overloaded with it.
- Sentence structure. Combine some, separate some, whatever you have to do. You keep having the same structure, and it gets boring.

Other than that, it’s pretty good. Looking forward to the next part!

PM me for anything.

~JFW1415

Here's my crit...

I awoke hours later in the bunk

I think you shoudl say, a bunk. The, implies that it's hers and she's already been there, and unless I'm mistaken and have forgeten something from part one, she has not been to a bunk. If she was brought there in part one, ignore this.

I had been dressed in a new tunic and blanket. I found my bloomers on top of a crate. I slipped them on but they were still damp, and were cold against my bruised legs and hip where James had kicked me. My long honey blond hair had dried into its natural waves. I ran my fingers through it quickly to get the flyaways out of my face. I saw a skirt laid out over a chair for me. It was an odd-looking skirt with skinny horizontal stripes of pink and white, and calico patches sprinkled liberally about.

I like this bit, but I think you should seperate it a bit. It's very long, and not all nessacary. Also, you say that she was dressed in a blanket. That doesn't really make sense to me.

She quickly ushered me over to one of the stools perched next to the counters. She and I sat.

I'd combine these two sentences.

Everyone calls me Angie

I don't like the repetitiveness of Angie. Maybe just, Everybody does.

Interesting. I'm trying to figure out what time period this is, because it doesn't seem like normal time to me. I want to know more about Isabella and her past. On to part three!