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Traces of a Plot Bunny



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Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:22 am
noninjaes says...



Being the odd person that I am, over the last couple of weeks, I have written a few paragraphs from different time frames for a possible novel. From what I have worked out, there are two MCs, one primary, and one secondary. The first snippet focuses on the primary MC. The second and third focus on both, with the second snippet planning to be diverted to the secondary MC. I don't know what genre this will fit in, but most likely urban fantasy / coming of age. Opinions and comments are appreciated. Suggestions also.

~


A young woman stared out across the open plain. Desolate, sunburnt, and just about lifeless. The only thing of beauty she saw hung high in the sky; a spectacular white orb glowing in its own light, surrounded by billions of tiny twinkling stars. Its radiance shone down on the arid land, allowing the meagre population to see more than just its glory.

But the moon wasn't the only glorious thing that could be seen by the people below. Standing there, high on a rock was a traveller from a far away land; someone seeking shelter, friendship, and understanding. This woman stood out against the orange landscape, even though she saw herself as just another part of the scenery. She was the one staring out across the open plain.

Lisareas, or Lisa as she preferred to be known as slung her pack over her shoulder and knelt down to the edge. Placing her hands on the dry edge of the rock face, she began the steady descent down the cliff, probing for handholds and testing each little ledge for any deadly weakness.

~


"Why does it have to be like this?" she whispered. There was sorrow in her voice, resentment too.

Unbeknownst to her, a stealthy onlooker watched from the shadows of the leafy trees. This onlooker watched in astonishment as a small ball of dancing flames appeared on the woman's upturned palm. There she stood, defying the laws of . . . well just about everything.

Though, the onlooker had to admit that the sight was rather impressive - he felt he should kneel down to her like she was from the heavens above. This kind of thing was godly in his eyes. And as most gods are loved and worshipped, fear was also a part of their reign. This too was felt by the onlooker.

The woman looked up from her flickering creation, a single tear running down her cheek. She slowly closed her hand around the flame and watched as it disappeared, leaving no evidence of its existence behind.

~


The angel opened her pale blue eyes. Their intentions fell and electricity flowed through the air. He was speechless, just as everyone else in the dark, grimy courtyard was.
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Sat Jan 14, 2012 6:08 pm
Rosendorn says...



It's rough, I find. I'd try to fill in the blanks to see what else comes up. The world looks extremely magical, which I find needs to be handled slightly differently than a not-so-magical world. Namely, you have to think about how magic works in all levels of society.

That doesn't mean it's not interesting (quite the opposite, for me), but it does mean a bit of thinking.

Funnily enough, I don't even find it Urban Fantasy? The first few paragraphs reminded me of a world like Dune. But, that could change. It all depends on how you fill in the blanks.

I would fill in the blanks. There's not much here to critique, and I'd actually not critique it until you got farther along. There is stuff to improve, but that can all be improved once the story's taken root more.
A writer is a world trapped in a person— Victor Hugo

Ink is blood. Paper is bandages. The wounded press books to their heart to know they're not alone.
  








"The day, which was one of the first of spring, cheered even me by the loveliness of its sunshine and the balminess of the air. I felt emotions of gentleness and pleasure, that had long appeared dead, revive within me. Half surprised by the novelty of these sensations, I allowed myself to be borne away by them, and forgetting my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy."
— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein