Looking Through the Eyes of a Century (Title)

I've been craving to write this story so bad for the last year, so I finally got started. Its a story about a hundred year old man telling his life story. Here's a passage from the novel describing a battle he was in.

As we reached the other side of the bloodstained hill, I saw not only death, but also rage from the intense hand to hand combat between this enormous mass of blue and grey. I could see the wounded men lying in the field screaming for death, for they could not take the pain any longer, and I saw a dying soldier, lying beside the river of blood, reaching out for his God in the smoke filled air. The field was covered with bodies, in some cases stacked one on top of the other like playing cards. The sound of the musket and cannon fire and the blistering heat, I could stand no longer, so I sat down for a moment and reloaded my musket. We were running low on ammunition and I had only five caps left. Suddenly, the cannons and muskets ceased and the men came back. Apparently, neither side could defeat the other, and I sudden halt was ordered. A tired soldier told me to come to him. I helped him pick of bodies, some of those bodies and faces I knew as buddies from camp. I silently grieved the death of so many brave, young and old, rich and poor. That evening the sun set beyond the hills, and the bloodstained field was a dark crimson. The fighting wasn't over, for I knew the blood would continue running in the early dawn. That night, we planned the coming attack. I myself was on the left flank, one of the most dangerous positions anyone could imagine.




S Carter

this was nicely written; however I would suggest that you would post the entire part, instead of just the old man remembering part. (I think this isn't the whole thing, am i correct?)

ASC NC -

In the future, consider posting a more lengthy piece. With a single paragraph like this, it's hard to grasp your style and your character's personality. Avoid posting excerpts.

[fast forward]

The main problem I see here is the lack of attention to details. You described a short scene for us very nicely, but you got lazy, broke it off just as it was reaching some kind of climax and then gave a shopping-list, history book-esque run-down of the rest of the day. In three or four sentences. How boring. How sad. This paragraph is also a fantastic example of what not to do according to the universal "show, don't tell" rule. When you have the opprotunity to show us what happens after the battle ceases - through imagery and character introspection - don't choose the quick and easy way out of telling us instead. I want details, I want dialogue. I want to know how heavy the bodies that your MC had to carry were. I want to know how the air smelled. I want to know what the cannons sounded like. I want to know if the grass had dew on it. I want to know so many other things that you decided to skim over because they were not directly pertinent to your plot. This:

Suddenly, the cannons and muskets ceased and the men came back. Apparently, neither side could defeat the other, and I sudden halt was ordered. A tired soldier told me to come to him. I helped him pick of bodies, some of those bodies and faces I knew as buddies from camp. I silently grieved the death of so many brave, young and old, rich and poor. That evening the sun set beyond the hills, and the bloodstained field was a dark crimson. The fighting wasn't over, for I knew the blood would continue running in the early dawn. That night, we planned the coming attack. I myself was on the left flank, one of the most dangerous positions anyone could imagine.

is crap. Cut it all out and start over. I want you to extend the battle scene, add some dialogue, and stop writing things at such a fast pace. You've got all day, kid. Let it flow.

[misc]

. I could see the wounded men lying in the field screaming for death

Screaming for death? What's that supposed to mean? Poor word choice.

lying beside the river of blood

This has been used a million times and it's an exageration. Try to be more vivid and unique here.

Lastly, if you are serious about a project like this, I think that you should consider going to Samuel Garrison, a member of this site, and consulting him about the art of writing Historical Fiction. Writing HF, is like commiting yourself to a long term relationship with no end in sight. You've got to put everything you've got into not only writing it, but researching it as well.

Good luck.

-Kylan

Ah, I heard my name being called.

Kylan's suggestions and input are one-hurndred and ten precent. I agree whole heartedly. There is nothing to this story or excerpt it seems that would interest me enough to consider continuing. What is written is bland, dull and yuck! As Kylan mentioned, the story reads like a grocery list.

"OK, so, this happened, and that happened and oh look - for grins - that happened." Notice the over-usage of the word, "happened" I used? That's exactly how your story reads to me. You tell us everything but as readers, I know nothing about the atmosphere; who are these soldiers, what is their Unit, rank, what period, etc. I could go on...

For instance, you mentioned the cannons. Have you sir, ever heard a cannon go off as the Artillary begins to reload for the next wave? I have and about thirty yards or less from me. Let me tell you. If you ever dreamed of the musket being remotely loud, the cannon is a fierce, vile and absolutely terrifying. I can't imagine what a 6-Pounder sounded like. When they go off, the whole world, everything around you shakes for a brief moment. The ground, your ears, hands, the hairs on your neck; when not used to such a sound, nerves kick in. The air; it echoes for several feet and for some time. Really, the sound of the cannon is undescribable. Basically, it's so loud, if you're not used to such a sound -- and believe me I'm still adjusting -- you may flinch or wrap your palms tightly around your ears. It's that loud, far, far more fierce and thunderous than fireworks. And -- soldiers heard these sounds on a daily basis.

I'm not sure but I'm going to assume your story reflects around the War of Northern Aggression or simply put, the American Civil War. I assumed this because of the telling of littered bodies on the field.

As for your choice of using the musket, I strongly suggest you examine the weapons that were seen and used in the Civil War. The musket was used early on, in the beginning but was quickly kicked to the curb for it's lack of accuracy. Take into consideration that bayonets were used as well the officers and NCO's had their swords. Soldiers also may have sported hand guns.

I've heard of them but not done much research but research the Sharpshooters which if I remember correctly were the 19th Century version of sniping.

As for your characters, they have no feeling. They are undeveloped. I could care less if one was shot point blank in the skull. The reason for my callous nature is because all you do is tell us everything. Expand with description -- not adjectives -- which you seem to be highly fond of. Use dialogue so we may be able to interact with your characters. Understand their life's goals, why they enlisted, what exactly are they thinking. Is it fear? Is it more of ambition or some other nobility? Perhaps your main character was an officer and by his parents he was commisioned into the Infantry. If so, how did he feel being thrown to the lions so to speak? There's a lot you can do here if you stop rushing, really plan and research. Don't get lazy!

Lastly, a hundred year old man is like my cat living to be sixty. How many people do you know that have lived to be that old? It's unrealistic and especially in an era when the adverage lifespan was about seventy, assuming you are writing about the Civil War.

Historic Fiction, 'pending on the nature of the chosen subject can either make or break you. Short stories are a little easier but novels are arduous. As the writer, you must absolutely be patient and know your world. To do this, you must ask questions and totally resign yourself to researching.

Live it, love it, bask in it.

*

EDIT:

I've further included photos of myself, standing off my deck in full uniform on Halloween this year. My Unit is the 29th Reg't, Light Inf. Co (Company) during Rev. War. The 29th was the same regiment that was stationed in Boston along with the 14th. We were known as the "Vien Openers" during the fiasco with the Boston "Massacre."

As you can see, I indeed have a musket in my right shoulder or as we call it, a firelock or Brown Bess or simply the Bess. I learned this detail this year. When under Arms (trailing or carrying the musket), when the bayonet isn't affixed, the firearm is a firelock. When the bayonet is affixed, the firearm is now called an Arm. Even though it fires, the Bess has been transformed into basically a pike but I'd have to ask again to make sure I'm correct. Yes, we really do use black powder and yes, it really does fire. The difference is, it doesn't fire the lead ball.





My Unit, the Light Infantry, served under the Comm. Officer, John Enys; our battles were mostly in Canada and a few battles in the Vermont Isles of the Champlain Valley.

Ta! Question, feel free to bug me.