Young Writers Society

Son of Man
Bethany paused in the doorway of her home, her deep green eyes reflecting the dusky orange glow of the sky. She stared, unblinking, at a mountain of thick clouds surrounding the ball of orange flame sinking rapidly in the west. The glory of the sunset’s last rays cast their glow on her tanned face, and her hair, black as a raven’s wing, curled across her forehead in the slight evening breeze.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turning, beheld the unsmiling face of her mother, Tamar.
“Mother.” The word was restrained.
“Where have you been, Bethany? Didn’t I ask you to go to the well and bring me back some water?” Her mother’s voice was stern, unrelenting.
“Yes, Mother, you did, and I brought some back.” She paused. “It’s here.” Bethany gestured to a clay jar at her feet, leaning against the doorframe. Tamar only glanced at it long enough to see that it was full, fixed her gaze again on Bethany’s face, and said with a calm certainty, “You left this house as soon as you finished your lunch. It doesn’t take as long as that to fill a jar with water. Where have you been?”
Bethany had no choice. “I…I went to see the Rabbi, with Abigail and Ben.” Her two best friends.
Tamar’s face hardened, her eyes flashed. “I told you to stay away from the Rabbi! He’s a blasphemer!”
“Mother please, you should listen-”
“I won‘t! Why did you disobey me?” She demanded icily.
Bethany knew why. The Rabbi spoke the truth. She wanted to listen to His words, words that seemed far wiser than those of other certain religious leaders who were twice his age. Leaders who were haughty and rich, who thought only of themselves. This new Rabbi, he seemed poor, yet he had the nobility of a king. Just by looking at his face, Bethany was filled with awe. “I don’t try to purposely disobey you, Mother-”
“Then why did you go and listen to that…that-Hypocrite?” Tamar spat the word out like it was poison.
“Because I know he speaks the truth! You should listen-” Bethany tried again.
Her mother cut her short. “What? How dare you advise Me to listen to that beggar! I’ve had enough of your insolence. You dishonourable girl! You will have no meal tonight, and your father’ll learn of this impudence. Go on! Get out of my sight!” Tamar stared coldly at her daughter, eyes flashing.
Bethany ran. She fled from the room and out the door, eyes brimming. She couldn’t see, but she knew she had to get away. Away from her mother’s harsh words. What was wrong with the Rabbi? What did her mother have against him? He was only a teacher!

Or so she thought.

She found herself knocking on Abigail’s door, face pale and expressionless.
“Bethany!” Michael, Abigail’s mother, opened the door letting out the smell of freshly baked bread. “What’s the matter? Why are you out-and so late?” She spoke kindly, her brown eyes filled with concern. She was one of them, a follower of the Rabbi.
“My mother…” Bethany looked away.
Michael nodded sympathetically. “Come and have dinner with us. Abigail should be pleased to see you.” She smiled, “My husband is out at the moment, but He’ll be home soon. Come in.”
Bethany followed Michael inside, where the table was laden with fresh bread and fish. Abigail was loading food on a plate for her father, and Samuel, her baby brother, was playing with the dog. “Beth!” For a minute Abigail looked surprised, but her expression quickly changed to one of concern when she saw Bethany’s pale, tear-stained face. “You alright?”
Bethany nodded, meaning to answer, but Michael stopped any further conversation with “Shhh Abby! Let Beth rest and eat. Her mother’s angry with her.” She nodded knowingly- “The Rabbi.”
As if that said it all.
Again Bethany nodded, viewing Michael with surprise. What a sharp person to have deducted all this by merely looking at her face! “Mother is angry because I disobeyed her instruction of not listening to the Rabbi. She doesn’t see him the same way I do, and it makes me sad, but I can’t help it can I?” She wiped a single tear from her cheek. “She’ll watch me like a hawk watches a mouse! I don’t want to disobey her though, so I might stay away from the Rabbi now.” She sighed despairingly. “I wish I could live with you because then I wouldn’t be disobeying if I went to listen to Him.”
Abigail nodded and looked at her mother. Michael stooped to pick up Samuel and shook her head decisively. “Your mother may be harsh, but she loves you. It’s only because you believe what she thinks blasphemy that makes her angry, and even though you know the Rabbi speaks the truth, you’ve got to remember that your mother doesn’t, and she’s your guardian. Leaving home now is not really a possibility, Bethany. Your mother and father do need you.” Bethany nodded, knowing Michael’s wisdom was based on experience. “Maybe they’ll see sense in what the Rabbi says…some day.” She said this with a strong sense of false hope, although her eyes betrayed the sad acknowledgement of the truth. Tamar would never listen or believe anything Jesus of Nazareth said. She scorned him with an intense hate, and Bethany knew in her soul that her mother would remain that way until the day she died.
As for her father, Cassius, his position as a soldier who served under Pilate, the Roman governor also caused him to uphold a certain dislike for this new teacher. Especially because he was a Jew. Bethany wasn’t sure though, if he would stay like that forever. Her father was more pliable than her mother.
Anyway, why should she care so much just because her parents wouldn’t listen? Jesus was, after all, only a teacher. Still, Bethany couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that He was somehow different from all the teachers she’d ever known. What he spoke seemed logically sensible, if that made any sense. This was getting her nowhere though, she thought.
Just wait.
“Well, I’ll do as you say, Michael, and stay at home. But only because you said so.” She frowned. “For now”. Afterthought.
“You do well to listen to advice Beth. Remember that, all the time.” Michael’s face portrayed grave thoughtfulness.
Abigail smiled, and silence reigned as they finished setting the table.
But it was soon to be broken by a heavy footfall outside the door, approaching slowly, tiredly. Moishe, Abigail’s father, opened it and stood silhouetted against the gold-tinted evening sky. His tanned face looked work-worn. Thick black hair curled over his forehead, one lock dangling above his deep brown eyes.
Michael rushed to him and took his cloak, bidding him sit down and rest. “Aah Michael.” He looked down at her as she busily removed his dusty sandals.
“Are you tired, my husband? Abigail’ll bring you some bread and meat.” Michael spoke softly, aware that her husband seemed worried.
Moishe nodded, staring at the wall. He looked up, eyes intensely grave. “Bethany.” Her name was said as a statement.
She looked down respectfully.
“Hows your mother and father?” He spoke uncertainly.
“My mother doesn’t want to see me, because I disobeyed her. She hates the Rabbi, that teacher from Galilee.” Bethany’s voice was low, a touch of regret sounding in her words.
Moishe nodded as Abigail put a plate of food before him on the table. “You aren’t…wrong, to listen to the Rabbi. His words are wise, well beyond his years. His hair is not even grey! I saw him heal a blind man with my own eyes!” His words were filled with awe. “Do any of the other teachers perform these miraculous signs? No! The rich fools! Jesus of Nazareth is different-almost…holy.”
They looked at him as a new touch of wonderment crept into his voice.
“He seems like a king…but, they say he was born in a stable-in Bethlehem.” Moishe shook his head in disbelief and picked up the bread from his plate. At last he ate.

The opening here is the perfect way to turn a reader off. The sentences are far too long and complicated. This entire piece is suffering from being overly formal. The dialogue makes me want to laugh. It needs contractions, at least the basic ones, like don't and can't. I know what you're trying to do, but it's not working. All it does is make your characters seem fake. It doesn't matter when it's set. They don't speak half as formally, with such perfect grammar in Fiddler on the Roof or in The Ten Commandments.

Her mother’s voice was stern, unrelenting.

Yes, Mother, you did, and I have brought some back to you

Her two best friends. Two people who thought like her.

Leaders who were haughty and rich, who thought only of themselves.

This new Rabbi, he seemed poor, yet he had the nobility of a king.

- I started pickin gout sentences that were messed up, then I gave up.

Bottom line is:

You are quite a good writer. You take risks and you explained a very nice sunset. The thing is, you arent taking any risks with your dialogue.
Sometimes you use repetition well, but sometimes the grammar errors kill the effectiveness.
It is very apparant that you've read quite a lot, but unfortunately a lot of the stylistic effects, and description seems "borrowed".

I think the best thing you could do is take heed to Rei's advice, and secondly, learn to balance the pace fo the dialogue with the pace of the narrative. I like how you do a lot of explanitory feeling during dialogue ( wonderment, icily, softlyy, aware that her husband was watching.) that is super effective for dialogue, but it is lost when the people are talking like robots.

Keep the tone the same from narrative and dialogue, and, in my opinion, you are one of the best writers ive seen here yet.

P.S. I thought your sunset was wonderful, except that dusky isnt really an adjective, and clouds don't usually become mountainous.

Thanks for the advo.

Yeah, I know what you two mean. Robotic speaking is my one main problem in stories, but i'll get there.

Maybe give me some suggestions on how I should change some of the REALLY bad stuff.

I know what you meant Rince when you said it sounded borrowed.

I'll try and make the next chapter better.

Thanks for your advice because it really helps alot. =)

Surely. I'm just going to go over one of the biggest samples of dialogue, and change to how I think it should sound.

“My mother's angry. I disobeyed her when she told me not to go listen to the Rabbi. But she doesn't see him the same way I do! It makes me sad, but I can’t help it, can I?” She wiped a single tear from her cheek. “She'll watch me like a hawk watches a mouse! I don’t want to disobey her, so I might have to stay away from the Rabbi now.” She sighed despairingly. “I wish I could live with you. Then it wouldn't be wrong if I went to listen to him.”

I mostly changed things to contractions, but I did change the pace of it a bit, to make it a little more dramatic as she rasies her voice and cries a bit. You'll notice (because you wrote it of course) that what she is saying is jumping around quite a bit. She's finding it hard to stay on a topic, and just throwing out ideas, so I think it's important that it seems a little more rushed, like shes talking fast. To pull that off, I added more periods, and contractions, and got rid of some of the longer words.

Anytime, and keep it up. Tell me whatcha think.

I read it! Yay! My first story in a couple of weeks!

Er... I'm done celebrating.

Good points:

I read this all the way through. You might laugh at that, but half the stuff, I read half of it and then get totally overwhelmed by grammar mistakes.

Your description is good.

Well... the description was kind of overdone in the beginning, mind you, but we'll get there later. For now, let's look at... dialogue!

Now, dialogue is thought of as the writer's worst enemy. After all, anyone can write descriptions. All it takes is a keen eye for detail in surroundings. But dialogue is a whole lot different. Not only do you have to catch the little intricities, such as the details, but you have to absorb yourself in a character so much that the dialogue comes naturally to you.

Let me give a real life example...

I have an employer, we'll call him Ralph, and I've been observing his character for several years now, though he believes I've only been doing this for a couple of months. Anyway, the other day, he was talking about something (out of date catalogs) and I noticed his mouth moving in a "da" position. I finished his sentence with the word "dangerous." He was stunned. How could I have known what he was going to say?

It's all in knowing the characters, baby.

For me, this takes an utter obsession. Hopefully, getting good dialogue doesn't make you utterly obsessed. But still, take the time to know your characters. There are several articles in the writing articles section about developing characters. Or at least creating characters.

In addition to following those articles, there should be three basic questions you ask of your characters.

WHAT DOES MY CHARACTER WANT?

WHAT WILL S/HE DO TO GET IT?

WHAT IS STOPPING THAT CHARACTER?

For example, let's take Goldilocks as this character.

What does she want?
Well, obviously she wants to be in a comfortable place without doing anything to keep it comfortable. A princess, if you will.

What will she do to get it?
Break into the poor bears' cottage! What a wild woman...

What is stopping her?
Well, when the bears come back, let's just say she is not very comfortable anymore.

That works for me anyway. Perhaps it might help you out?

In the particular story you're doing, it is of the utmost importance that you do develop characters. After all, conversion is a very tricky subject and it takes a very talented writer, such as yourself, to write convincingly about it.

You notice that I talked about developing characters instead of dialogue. Dialogue is easy. All you have to do is put something in the quotes and then stick a "he said" after it, and BAM! It's dialogue! But having realistic dialogue comes from knowing your characters so well, that it just comes easy.

It'll become more apparant after you work on the story a little more. Just don't tell yourself that you can't do it -- you can do it. It's just really really hard.

And now.... the opening scene!

Opening scenes are important. They set the entire story up. So a line like this:

Okay… so maybe I was a little bit stupid. Instead of reading the manual, like I was supposed to do, I pushed random buttons in the calculator.

brings a completely different image than a line like this:

"Sir! Several of the generals were sniped by the humans!" I turned around and glared at the boy that had brought the
message. He was shaking mightilly his eyes were wide with terror. After all, sometimes politicians killed the messenger that
brought bad news. I had killed a couple myself.

Which is different than this:

A man walked slowly in the snow, one of his hands in one of his many coat pockets. He breathed softly, his breath coming out in glistening crystals. He wiped the little droplets of ice off his chin, and then shifted his shoulder, putting the .22 rifle to the other side. Light snow drizzled on as he looked around at the glazed trees. His boots crunched underneath him as he walked on the ice. It was the first time in months he was able to walk without his skis or snowshoes, and he was glad for it.

All three are opening lines. The first one is supposed to be a light heated comedy. The second one is a much darker sci fi drama. The third one is realistic drama. Each of them sets you up for what is about to happen. All three of them hint to the reader what the story is going to be about. If I had told you that the first line about the calculator was actually fanfiction about Lord of the Rings, you would probably be very confused.

Let's look at them a little deeper.

Okay… so maybe I was a little bit stupid. Instead of reading the manual, like I was supposed to do, I pushed random buttons in the calculator.

This line isn't very descriptive, but that's okay since it is in first person. It shows the character admitting to being rather stupid. Instead of reading something like she was supposed to, she does something else. This shows her very easily distracted and a little bit lazy. Even though you might not be sure how the calculator is involved, it shows you the character of the person and gives a hint about what is wrong.

"Sir! Several of the generals were sniped by the humans!" I turned around and glared at the boy that had brought the
message. He was shaking mightilly his eyes were wide with terror. After all, sometimes politicians killed the messenger that
brought bad news. I had killed a couple myself.

Very quickly, you can tell this is a sci fi or a fantasy. After all, what humans would refer to their adversaries as humans? This sets up readers for an interesting sci fi thriller. And then it describes the character. A politican, who is not afraid to kill even a little messenger boy. Right away, the words "bad guy" drift through your head. Which makes you think that this is a sci fi story about a tremendously bad alien. You would be right in thinking of this.

A man walked slowly in the snow, one of his hands in one of his many coat pockets. He breathed softly, his breath coming out in glistening crystals. He wiped the little droplets of ice off his chin, and then shifted his shoulder, putting the .22 rifle to the other side. Light snow drizzled on as he looked around at the glazed trees. His boots crunched underneath him as he walked on the ice. It was the first time in months he was able to walk without his skis or snowshoes, and he was glad for it.

This is closer to your line than the previous ones. Now, it seems to have a lot of description, which is what yours has. But look how the descriptions mold the character. He is in one pretty cold place, isn't he? After all, here he is in this freezing cold place, and he's glad it is warmer. He doesn't mind guns, but he's not out to kill anything -- yet. After all, it's a .22 rifle. And he's been carrying it for awhile. Perhaps he likes walks? Does he seem patient to you?

It's that kind of description that molds it.

Now, let's look at your line.

Bethany paused in the doorway of her home, her deep green eyes reflecting the dusky orange glow of the sky as she stared, unblinking, at a mountain of thick clouds surrounding the ball of orange flame sinking rapidly in the west. The glory of the sunset’s last rays cast their glow on her tanned face, and her hair, black as a raven’s wing, curled across her forehead in the slight evening breeze.

What does this first paragraph tell you?

For one, it tells me that a girl named Bethany is watching a sunset. She is tan, has black hair, and green eyes. She has a home. Where she lives, it's windy. And cloudy.

That's it.

When I first read it, I assumed it was in modern times. Then, later when I heard the talk about the rabbi, I wondered. It was only until she mentioned the rabbi's name did I get a clue that this was in biblical times.

So what can you do?

First of all, don't panic. Look at the story carefully and ask yourself, "Where can I make this better?" Then, keeping this copy here as a reference, tweak it. Fill the story with clues about where it's from. It's fun, honest. Think of it as a puzzle. Where do the words fit? Think of it as writing a secret message. How can you convey your meaning without giving away the message?

You'll have fun with it.

I hope this critique is somewhat understandable. It is rather late and I feel exhausted. If you have any questions about what I said, ask, and I'll try to answer them tomorrow, when my brain is less fried. Good night! Or... morning!

Micah, dont worry about what that 'Reichieru', I can't see anything better that SHE has done.
No I really liked and and hope your doing a sequel.

Snoink, why do you always have to write so much?! I don't have time to read it right now, but I skimmed it.

Rincewind: OK. It's ok. But, i'm not the expert. =)

Ryan! Glad ya liked it! I hope I can do a sequal, just for you.

slytherinseeker wrote:What the Hell Ryan?
There was no need to bag Reichieru like that you loser!
I haven't been here for long, but I know that this site is about writing and encouragement.
You have some good stories, but if you bag anyone else again I'll do my best to chuck you off this site you mean ugly old hag!

And you have no right to say THAT. If I see anything like that again you'll be reported.

And Ryan same goes to you, if you wish to say things like that, please say it somewhere else.

Thank you.

ANYWAY!!

Good story, Snoink has given you alot of help and there is no way I can help you further!! >.<

I don't think ryan said anything half as offensive as slytherinseeker did. But hey.

Thanks you guys.

Micah, who don't you ask the person he offended how she felt about that? Besides, Emma has a point. We shouldn't be talking about this sort of thing here. It should be done in PM's.

Thank you for stating that.

Anyway. I've edited the story a again, and used some of the advice you guys gave, so here it is.

I think it is better, although the beginning is still a bit too flowery.

It's a bit confusing because it's not until the end that you kind of get the picture of who the Rabbi is

Thats how I wanted it to be though.